Free The Cabin by Carla Neggers

auction, a nice contrast
    with the more contemporary pieces. Balance, she
    thought. If Tess approved, she didn’t say. She narrowed

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    71
    her blue eyes on Susanna. “You haven’t told him how
    much you’re worth, have you?”
    “Why would I? He pays attention to money even less
    than you do.”
    “Susanna, you have to tell him!”
    Susanna returned to her desk, feeling stubborn now
    that they were talking about her husband. “Why?”
    “He’s going to find out, you know. That’s what
    you’re afraid of, isn’t it? He’s a guy’s guy. He might not
    like having his wife sneaking around making millions.”
    “It’s his money, too.”
    “Uh-huh. And he’s a Texas Ranger. You’ve always
    said it’s all he’s ever wanted to do, even when he was at
    Harvard. Suppose he’ll think you’ll want him to quit?”
    Susanna frowned. “I’d never tell him what to do,
    anymore than he’d tell me.”
    “Yeah, what about all the other Texas Rangers? What
    will they think if one of their own’s suddenly worth
    eight million?”
    “Ten,” Susanna corrected.
    “Ten million? Damn, Susanna. Maybe it’s time to
    hire bodyguards—or make peace with your husband.
    Talk about armed and dangerous.”
    “Nobody knows how much I’m worth. You, my ac-
    countant and my attorney.” Susanna could feel her heart
    pounding, but she kept her tone breezy, as if none of this
    really bothered her. She knew Tess wasn’t fooled. “It’s
    not as if I’ve radically changed my lifestyle.”
    “Moving to Boston, buying a cabin in the Adiron-
    dacks. That’s not radically changing your lifestyle?”
    Susanna dropped onto her chair in front of at her

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    Carla Neggers
    computer. “I was only worth five million when I left San
    Antonio.”
    Tess swooped to her feet. “God, you’re impossible.
    If you get kidnapped and held for ransom, don’t expect
    me to come here and figure out how to fork over the
    money.” She hoisted her microfiber satchel onto her
    shoulder. “I’ve got to run. I have one more devil of a cli-
    ent meeting.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Susanna,
    please—you’ll think about what I said?”
    “Tess, you know I will—I appreciate your concern.
    Thanks for stopping by.”
    “Come up sometime. Bring the girls. I know it’s win-
    ter, but the ocean’s still beautiful.”
    After Tess left, Susanna stood at the tall, arched win-
    dows overlooking historic Old Granary Burial Ground,
    snow drifting against its thin, centuries-old tombstones.
    No radical changes in her life. Who was she kidding?
    Tess was right.
    As if to prove her point, the doorman buzzed her and
    announced Destin Wright was there to see her. Susanna
    dropped back onto her desk chair and felt an instant
    headache coming on. She’d been putting Destin off for
    days. She sighed. How could telling her husband about
    ten million dollars and a murder suspect showing up in
    their kitchen be any harder than dealing with Destin
    Wright? She said into the intercom, “Send him up.”
    He would take the old elevator, she knew, not the
    stairs, and he’d find a way to irritate her within twenty
    seconds of arriving in her office. She got up and un-
    locked the door, just so she wouldn’t have to let him in.
    He didn’t knock. He pushed open the translucent

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    73
    glass door and grinned at her. “Yo, Susanna. How’s it
    going? Was that Tess I just saw leaving the building?”
    “Yes, she stopped in for a visit—”
    “I wasn’t invited to her wedding, you know.”
    Susanna felt the blood pulse behind her eyes. “Des-
    tin, you and Tess aren’t even friends.”
    “What? We grew up together.”
    “You’re ten years older than she is.”
    “So?”
    Susanna gave up. Destin Wright had grown up on the
    next street over from her grandmother’s house, never,
    apparently, making a secret of his desire to get out of the
    neighborhood at his first opportunity. He was in his mid-
    forties and fit the stereotype of the