The Secrets of Rosa Lee by Jodi Thomas

dealership.
    She raised an eyebrow in interest as she shoved her briefcase under the desk. If he needed a car, he would have been waylaid by one of the salesmen before he could make it to her office.
    Finally, with everything in order, she faced him. “May I help you?”
    His smile seemed calculated. Not too wide, not too innocent. “I certainly hope so, Miss Whitman. I’m Talon Graham. My friends call me Tal.” He waited as if expecting her to recognize the name.
    Lora had seen his type before. In fact, she’d married one of the tribe. Handsome, well-mannered, high-maintenance, used to getting his way. The kind of man who wanted a blonde on his arm. Trouble was, she’d been that blonde once before and no longer wanted the role.
    Since he obviously knew her name, she asked again. “How may I help you, Mr. Graham?”
    He stood. “I’m in oil exploration by profession, but I’m here as president of this year’s Rodeo Association. I’d like you to help me make next year’s rodeo the best Clifton Creek has ever seen.”
    â€œThe rodeo’s nine months away. We don’t need to plan advertising yet.” She wanted to add that, hopefully, she wouldn’t be in town nine months from now, but with what her father paid her, it was a possibility. Also, men in oil exploration weren’t known to stay long in one place.
    â€œI know, but it may take some time.” He winked. “First I plan to organize a huge fund-raiser to improve what Clifton Creek laughingly calls a rodeo grounds. Second, I’d like to get to know everyone in town, or at least anyone who will help.” He stood, towering over her. “Your daddy told me yesterday that you wouldn’t mind introducing me around. As an outsider, I’ll need to move in the right circles fast.” He glanced down, seeming almost shy. Almost. “He said you would be at my disposal whenever needed.”
    Lora swore she felt smoke coming out of her ears. She could almost hear her father telling this man that his poor daughter had nothing to do with her life and would be happy to take him around. After all, divorced women don’t have an easy time getting back on the horse.
    Talon had the nerve to grin when he added, “So, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other over the next few months?”
    She’d have to kill Daddy, she thought. “I’ll talk withmy father,” she managed to say as she glanced through her glass walls.
    He’d finally gone too far, pimping her out to a rodeo. And because Isadore would be impossible to live with as a widow, Lora would have to murder her, too. Maybe she could get a deal when buying double caskets and plots. She saw it all now, the church packed, the funeral procession long and loaded with the newest models on the lot. The coffins would be matching champagne white. Too bad the funeral home didn’t have Casket Cash.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    T he afternoon rain drove Billy Hatcher’s roofing crew inside. Most of the guys called it a day. Sam Davis and Billy drove over to do cleanup on the window replacement job at the Altman house.
    The sky hung low, bringing the shadows of twilight early. Billy heard more than one person say the rain might freeze after sundown. If so, there would be no work tomorrow until the sun warmed everything up. He didn’t care. Unlike the others, he had plenty to keep himself busy. Roofing was seasonal work anyway, but it paid well. He figured he had enough put away to last three months in an apartment when bad weather hit. A few inside carpentry jobs should carry him through till spring. If his plan worked, he wouldn’t have to move back in with his father and whatever old lady he had playing house with him now.
    But until it got too cold, he’d sleep out, sometimes in the country, sometimes in his car. Lora Whitman would have been surprised to learn more than just his car parked behind the Altman house