Beyond the Shadow by Julee Baker

Author:Julee Baker [Baker, Julee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: photographer, contemporary romance, sculptor, Montana, strong female, Clean & Wholesome, dog lovers
Publisher: Prairie Night Press
Published: 2017-07-23T23:00:00+00:00

NINE

Private Lessons

“W

hat do you mean, don’t get too tricky?” John Colter gruffed into the phone at his attorney. “Who’s getting tricky? And what am I paying you for, to turn tail and run whenever there’s a problem?”

“Well, no—just meant—”

“Don’t just mean anything. I pay you good money to handle things for me, so handle it. Go find some photography expert to say those photos are real. I’ve given you plenty of resources—make certain you find the right experts.” Colter added his own brand of emphasis to the word right. “I shouldn’t have to tell you how to do your job. Whether you like it or not, I’m going with this, so make it happen . . . or I’ll find someone who will.”

Colter ended the call, disgusted. Used to be when he paid someone well to do a job, they’d get it done, no questions asked, not come sniveling back each time a minor detail got in the way.

Speaking of details, what was that meddling McDonald woman doing interfering in his business anyway? Her and that smart-aleck attitude she’d laid on him—and in front of everyone at the diner. Who did she think she was? Might as well pull her off her high-horse while he was bringing Matthews down. Matter of fact, the more he thought about it, he might be able to kill two birds with one stone.

He wouldn’t admit it to the attorney, but it looked like he’d need a new and better plan than those photos. But, at least the photos of the dog would keep Matthews stirred up for a while. All the better, when he figured out what to hit him with next, Matthews would be looking the other way.

Yeah, he needed that gold mine. Needed it bad and he would get it. Those sure-thing, Asian stocks his hot-shot broker recommended almost bankrupted him. That mine could make him well. Gold was sky-high now.

“Con-boy. Con-boy.” Even now, at forty-one, the schoolyard taunt still echoed in his brain. He was in seventh grade, when his father was sent to prison . . . eight years for tax evasion. He and his mother had to scrape for every meal, every flea-bag apartment. She worked herself to an early grave, slaving at two part-time jobs which still left them hungry enough to eat the wallpaper. He was never going back to that.

Good thing old dad made useful connections in prison. When his father got out, everything was different; and he taught his boy to nurture those connections. Too bad everything was going down the toilet because of that stupid broker’s hair-brained scheme. That’s what you get for trying to go legit. He snorted. It was a private club John Colter had always been locked out of.

Well, they weren’t going to win.

Lucky break, that old Barnes woman had shot her mouth off in the diner last fall, whining about her son, reminding him of the old Shadow mine. They had pulled plenty of gold out of that old mine, back in the day.

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