“Tory…” His voice was soft, soothing. His fingers wrapped possessively over her arm.
“Leave me alone,” she whispered, unable to jerk away. “And tell that private investigator of yours to back off. Otherwise I’ll have the sheriff arrest him for trespassing.”
“I just want you
to be safe.”
“And I want you out of my life,” she lied, finally pulling away and jerking open the door of the pickup. With tears blurring her vision, she started the truck and drove out of the parking lot, glancing in the rearview mirror only once to notice the defeat in Trask’s shoulders.
* * *
TORY HADN’T BEEN back at the Lazy W very long before the telephone rang. She had just stepped out of the shower and considered not answering the phone, but decided she couldn’t. The call could possibly be from Keith.
Gritting her teeth against the very distinct possibility that the call was from another reporter, she answered the phone sharply.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Wilson?” the caller inquired.
Tory grimaced at the unfamiliar voice. “This is Victoria Wilson.”
“Good. Don Morris with Central Bank.”
The young loan officer! Tory braced herself for more bad news. “Yes?”
“I just wanted to let you know that the loan committee has seen fit to grant you the funds you requested.”
Tory felt as if she could fall through the floor. The last thing she expected from the bank was good news. Nervously she ran her fingers through her hair. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“No problem at all,” the loan officer said with a smile in his voice. “You can pick up the check the day after tomorrow.”
“Can you tell me something, Mr. Morris?” Tory asked cautiously. She didn’t want to press her luck, but the bank’s agreement to her loan didn’t seem quite right. She felt as if she were missing something.
“Certainly.”
“The last time I came to see you, you insisted that I didn’t have enough collateral for another loan with the bank. What happened to change your mind?”
“Pardon me?” She could almost hear the banker’s surprise.
“You haven’t had a change of policy, have you?”
“No.”
“Well?”
The young banker sighed. “Senator McFadden agreed to cosign on your note.”
Tory’s eyes widened in surprise. “What does Senator McFadden have to do with this?”
“He talked with the president of the bank and insisted that we lend you the money. The senator owns quite a chunk of stock in the bank, you know. And the president is a personal friend of his. Anyway, he insisted that he cosign your note.”
Blood money! “And you agreed to it?”
“You did want the loan, didn’t you? Ms. Wilson?”
“Yes…yes. I’ll clear things up with the senator,” she replied, her blood rising in her anger as she slammed down the phone. “Bastard,” she whispered between clenched teeth.
It occurred to her as she towel-dried her hair and pulled on her jeans that Trask might have cosigned on the note to the bank as a final way of saying goodbye to her. After all, he did appear sincere when he said he hadn’t wanted to hurt her.