Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 04 - A Deadly Change of Power by Gina Cresse

son.  I squeezed him and gave him a kiss on top of his head.  “What are we going to name you?  Hoss?”
    He wagged his tail.
    I gave him a doubtful look.  “I don’t think Craig will go for it.  Not dignified enough.”
    I heard Ronnie’s voice from the kitchen.  “What?” she nearly screamed.
    I ran to see what was wrong.  She was barking into the telephone.  “That’s crazy!  No way!  It’s a lie!” she yelled.
    “What’s wrong?” I mouthed.
    She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back tears.  “You’re guy is a liar,” she blurted, then slammed the receiver down on its cradle.
    “What was that all about?” I asked.
    Her face was nearly as red as her hair.  I took her arm and led her to a chair, which she collapsed into.  “They said they’re not going to pay on my claim,” she said, sobbing.
    “What?  Why?” I asked, dumfounded.
    “They…they said I had dangerous chemicals — that I was running some sort of meth lab.  They threatened to report me to the police for manufacturing methamphetamine.”
    I gaped at her.  “Where’d they get an idea like that?”
    “They said the investigator from the fire department told them.  He said that was the cause of the explosion and the fire.  It’s all a lie — a big lie,” she insisted, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.
    I handed her a box of Kleenex.  The puppy sat at Ronnie’s feet and rested his head on her knee.  He looked genuinely concerned for her, his brown eyes almost as teary as hers.  At the moment, I couldn’t offer any more comfort than he was providing.  The doorbell rang, so I left her in the puppy’s care while I answered the door.
    The man standing on my front porch was tall — six-foot-four at least, and handsome.  Clark Gable was the first thought that flashed through my mind when I opened the door.  His dark hair was cut short on the sides and back, but the extra length on top allowed the waves to fall across his forehead.  His eyes were hazel or green — I couldn’t tell for sure.  I stood there, like the village idiot, waiting for him to recite his line — “Frankly Scarlet…”
    He smiled at me.  I think I might have blushed.
    “Is Ronnie Oakhurst here?” he asked.
    I managed to close my mouth before any bugs flew in, or anything stupid fell out of it.
    He smiled again.  “Ronnie Oakhurst?  Is she here?” he repeated.
    I shook my head as though I’d just been released from a deep trance.  “Ronnie?  Who’s asking?”
    “Tell her Jake is here.  Jake Monroe.”

Chapter Eight
     
     
    C aller ID is how Jake Monroe found Ronnie.  When she called him from our phone, Craig’s name and telephone number appeared on a display on Jake’s phone.  From there, it was a simple matter of using a reverse phone directory to get the address.
    Craig and I sat at the breakfast nook and watched through the bay window as Ronnie and Jake walk down the dock for a private talk.  Jake opened the walk-through gate for her, then took her hand and held it as they continued to stroll.
    “What do you see when you look at them?” I asked Craig.
    He studied the pair for a moment.  “I see a couple who appear to be in love.”
    “This is how I know you’re definitely the more romantic of the two of us,” I replied.
    “Why?  What do you see?” he asked.
    “I see a woman who’s invented an engine that’s free to run.  I see a man who’s in a position to put that engine in every car World Motors builds.  I see that they’re more than just acquaintances.  They’re not trying to hide it.”
    “Meaning that we’re not the only ones who know about their relationship,” Craig added.
    “If that happens — if Jake gets World Motors to tool up for Ronnie’s engine — it’ll spread like a wildfire.  It’ll be the beginning of the end for oil companies.”
    “I’d say it’s a miracle that Ronnie’s still alive,” Craig said.
    “And probably the only reason Jake hasn’t been