More Muscle

Chapter 1

"Well, it's about time," Nick said when his sister came in the front door at six-thirty, right before it was turning very dark outside and while he was finishing his first pre-dinner whiskey. "We were just about to come looking for you!"

"Where have you been?" Victoria asked more calmly. She stood up from the settee and came to meet her daughter as Audra came into the living room.

"I just got delayed a little in town," Audra said. "I'm sorry. Heath?"

Standing by the fireplace, Heath moved toward her.

Because Audra was holding out an envelope. "The telegrapher stopped me and gave me this for you. He says you'd better read it right away."

"What's it say?" Heath asked, putting his whiskey down on the coffee table and taking the envelope.

"He wouldn't tell me," Audra said. "You know Mr. Collier. He keeps everything confidential."

Heath took the message out and read it – and grew very quiet. His deep-set eyes darkened even more. Victoria, Nick and Audra all stopped cold.

"What is it, Heath?" Victoria asked.

"Uh – I – " was all he could manage to say. He looked up at them, and wondered what else to say. The message sent him back mentally several months, to another message just like this one, only then it was brought by the man himself, that round little con man Heath believed at first. Charlie Sawyer was all Heath could see in front of him for a moment.

And for a moment he considered keeping this to himself, just as he had kept what Sawyer said to himself, but that was another time. That was a time he was still settling in here, when he still had his own doubts about whether he belonged here – when he mistakenly decided he didn't. It had caused massive disruption. And now, here it was again.

Heath looked up at them, at the people who had taken him in and loved him and accepted him as a Barkley, a son of Tom Barkley – people who had stayed with him even through Charlie Sawyer and his lies. People who shortly after that made it official –

Nick, who loved him like a partner as well as a brother. Audra, who had become the playful little sister he didn't even know he wanted until he had her.

Victoria, who became every bit a mother to him, emotionally from the very first day when she immediately believed him to be her husband's son, to now after she had officially and legally adopted him.

It couldn't play out this time like it had with Charlie Sawyer. Heath made up his mind. "This is from a fella named Bassy – John Bassy. He says – he says he believes he's my father."

Silence swept over them for about ten seconds, ten long seconds, before Nick simply said, "Oh, no, we're not going through this again. Whoever this Bassy guy is, he's a liar and you're not gonna go thinking he may be right!"

"No, no," Heath said quickly. "This isn't like it was with Charlie Sawyer. Everything's changed since then." He looked up at Victoria. "You told me I fought to get in and I was gonna have to fight to get out. I'm not interested in getting out now – whether this fella Bassy is right or not. I hope you think the same thing."

"Of course we do," Victoria said quickly.

"And we think this is another con job," Nick said.

"Nick's right," Audra said. "There's not a doubt in anyone's mind that you are our brother, legally and by blood. Not a doubt."

Heath couldn't help smiling. "I know. I feel the same way. I'm just wondering who this Bassy fella is and what his angle is. I never heard of him before."

"Where is the telegram from?" Victoria asked.

Heath looked at it. "Sacramento."

"Does it say anything else, like he's planning to come here or he wants you to go there?"

"No," Heath said. "Just says his name is John Bassy and he's my father. Says he'll be in touch but he doesn't say how. Nothing else at all."

"Jarrod might know the guy," Nick said, "or at least maybe heard of him, if he's in Sacramento."

Victoria said, "Nick, I want to wire Jarrod right away. Will you take it to town if I write it out?"

"We both will," Heath said.

Victoria reached for his hand.

Heath took her hand and smiled his soft, lopsided smile. "I won't let you down this time."

Victoria smiled. "You got that smile of yours straight from your father. And in case you have any doubts, Jarrod got it too."

XXXXXXX

Sgt. Emerson said, "I'm sorry it turned out this way, but I guarantee you this. If something turns up that gives me reason to go for Dysart – whether it's about your case of anybody else's – I'll get him in here. And I'll keep you informed."

Jarrod received the telegram from the family in San Francisco just as he arrived home from having dinner at his club. He immediately had the same "not this time" reaction Nick had, but as that feeling started to fade, a new one crept in. Jarrod read his mother's telegram again, and remembered, and thought about this telegram, and began to boil.

Jarrod Barkley could be as relentless as any Barkley, and as tenacious as any bulldog with a bone when something crept into that spot in the back of his mind that sent out alert signals – signals that usually turned out to be worth the alert. When Jarrod got the wire, when the surprise of it wore off, the first alarm that went off carried with it Sgt. Jason Emerson's words from nearly a year earlier. Sgt. Emerson from the Sacramento police, the man Jarrod turned to for help when Jed Dysart, that oily self-important thug of a politician who hired men to steal Jarrod's files and then filed a complaint with the Bar. Jarrod had represented Dysart years ago on an assault charge and he'd gotten off but Jarrod turned him down when he came back looking for representation just a year ago.

Dysart never tolerated being turned down. The attempt to get Jarrod disbarred had led to Jarrod and his brothers all being assaulted, but it didn't work. The problem was that Jarrod was never able to connect Dysart to the theft of his files. That left Dysart free to try something else. Jarrod had been wary for all these months, watching in case some problem presented to him had Dysart written all over it.

Jarrod read his mother's wire again. Come home immediately. Another man from Sacramento claiming Heath as his son.

Charlie Sawyer had come and gone and was dead. His con to try to claim Heath as his own had not worked, but it sure had disrupted the Barkley family, and now here it was happening again. Maybe this time, having gone through Sawyer, the family wouldn't be so disrupted, but it was bad enough for his mother to wire him in San Francisco, so Jarrod prepared to go to Stockton right away.

But none of that explained the alert signals going off in his head that were screaming that Jed Dysart had something to do with this. Maybe it was just that this man claiming Heath, whoever he was, was from Sacramento, but even though it made no sense that Dysart would have something to do with it, Jarrod couldn't stop thinking that he did.

Jarrod checked his watch and knew if he hurried, he'd have time to wire the family he was coming and catch the overnight train. His calendar here was clear for the next two weeks and he was planning to go back to Stockton anyway in a day or two. Now it was more important to leave tonight.

XXXXX

The train arrived in Stockton at about five in the morning, just as the sun was coming up. The livery wasn't open, but the stableman was already there, preparing for the day. Jarrod was able to rent a mount to get to the ranch on, and he came in the front door just in time to hear the family completing breakfast in the dining room.

He went in before anyone had gotten up from the table. He decided on the way home that he was going to disguise his concern about everything, to see how the family was reacting before he would approach the subject of John Bassy. Jarrod casually headed for the sideboard and what was left of the food on it, saying, "Good morning, everyone. Did you leave anything for me?"

He didn't frown, he didn't smile, he didn't even look at them yet.

Silas, who was just beginning to clear the serving platters from the sideboard, said, "Let me get you some fresh coffee and eggs, Mr. Jarrod. I'll warm up some of this steak, too."

"Don't worry about the steak, Silas," Jarrod, picked up a plate and put the last of the steak onto it. "Cold beef is fine with me, if you rustle me up some scrambled eggs and a couple slices of toast."

Silas said, "Sure thing, Mr. Jarrod. Welcome home," and he headed for the kitchen.

"We didn't expect you this fast," Victoria said.

Jarrod picked up some silverware and took his regular place at the foot of the table. "That wire you sent me sounded like you needed all hands on deck," he said, and then he finally looked up, at Heath. "How are you doing, Heath?"

"If you're asking me do I believe this guy claiming to be my father," Heath said, "well, he's gonna have to come up with something other than his say-so."

"And even if he does, you're a part of this family and no other," Jarrod said flatly. "Remember, you're legally entwined now too. Try to get out, and I'll sue you."

Jarrod said that without smiling and began to cut up his steak, but there was a flip in his voice that made it sound like a good-hearted taunt.

But Heath said, "You'd do it, wouldn't you?

Jarrod looked straight at him and said, "I know I won't have to. I might have your signature on some paper, but we all have your heart. You're where you belong. The only place you're going is with me – wherever we have to go to confront this fella who says he's your father. How about somebody filling me in on the details?"