“That would be suicide, Tory. Our best bet is to convince him that his letter was nothing more than a phony—”
A loud rap on the door announced Trask’s arrival. Keith let out a long breath of air. “Okay, Sis, you’re on.”
Tory’s lips twisted cynically. “If you’re looking for an Oscar-winning performance, you’re going to be disappointed.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith asked warily.
“Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar’?” Without further explanation, she walked down the short corridor, ignored the round of swearing she heard in the kitchen and opened the front door.
Trask was about to knock again. His fist was lifted to his shoulder and his jaw was set angrily. At the sight of Tory, her gray-green eyes sparkling with a private joke, he was forced to smile and his angular features softened irresistibly. When Senator McFadden decided to turn on the charm, the effect was devastating to Tory’s senses, even though she knew she couldn’t trust him.
“I thought maybe you were trying to give me a not-so-subtle hint,” Trask said.
Tory shook her head and laughed. “Not me, senator. I’m not afraid to speak my mind and tell you you’re not welcome.”
“I already knew that.”
“But you’re back.” She leaned against the door, not bothering to invite him inside, and studied the male contours of his face. Yes, sir, the senator was definitely a handsome man, she thought. Five years hadn’t done him any harm—if anything, the added maturity was a plus to his appearance.
“I hoped that maybe you’d reconsidered your position and thought about what I had to say.”
“Oh, I’ve thought about it a lot,” Tory replied. “No one around here will let me forget it.”
“And what have you decided?” Cobalt-blue eyes searched her face, as if seeing it for the first time. Tory’s heart nearly missed a beat.
“Why don’t you come inside and we’ll talk about it?” Tory stepped away from the door allowing him to pass. Keith and Rex were already in the den and when Trask walked through the archway, the tension in the room was nearly visible.
“It takes a lot of guts for you to come back here,” Keith said. He walked over to the bar and poured himself a stiff drink.
“I said I would,” Trask responded. A confident grin contrasted with the fierce intensity of his gaze.
“But I can’t believe that you honestly expect Tory or anyone at the Lazy W to help you on…this wild-goose chase of yours.”
“I just want to look into it.”
“Why?” Keith demanded, replacing the bottle and lifting the full glass to his lips.
Trask crossed his arms over his chest. “I want to know the truth about my brother’s death.”
Keith shook his head. “So all of a sudden the testimony at the trial wasn’t enough. The scandal wasn’t enough. Sending an innocent man to jail wasn’t enough. You want more.”
“Only the truth.”
Keith’s jaw jutted forward. “It’s a little too late, don’t ya think, McFadden? You should have been more interested in the truth before taking that witness stand and testifying against Calvin Wilson.”
“If your father would have told his side of the story, maybe I wouldn’t be here right now.”
“Too late for second-guessing, McFadden,” Keith said, his voice slightly uneven. “The man’s dead.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Rex shifted restlessly and pushed his Stetson over his eyes. “I’ve got to get home,” he said. “Belinda will be looking for me.” He headed toward the door and paused near the outer hallway. “I’ll see ya in the morning.”
“Good night, Rex,” Tory said just as the sound of the front door slamming shut rattled through the building.
“I think maybe you should leave, too,” Keith said, taking a drink of his Scotch and leaning insolently against the rocks of the fireplace. He glared angrily at Trask and didn’t bother to hide his contempt. “We’re not interested in hearing what you have to say. You said plenty five years ago.”
“I didn’t perjure myself, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“I’m not insinuating anything, McFadden. I believe in telling it straight out.”