Free Stranger in My House (A Murder In Texas) by Mari Manning

Maguire’s Stetson when those two locked horns. Next best thing—ask him before he cooled down. Folks didn’t always tell the truth, but their faces never lied. Especially when they were mad.
    Kirby grabbed Frankie’s purse from the bed and headed down the corridor, emerging in time to see Miss Bea stomp through the doorway to the west wing and slam the heavy doors behind her. Kirby hurried down the staircase and through the parlor to the kitchen and the back door.
    In the kitchen, Brittany was kneading a pale, misshapen ball of dough at the counter. Which reminded Kirby of another question…
    “Excuse me.”
    Brittany’s head jerked up. The dough slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor. A cloud of flour leaped up, dotting the legs of her overalls.
    Brittany bent and scooped up the dough. “What are you doing down here?”
    “I was wondering if you’d heard or seen any women besides Miss Bea in the west wing? I thought I heard someone this morning.”
    The girl snorted. “Like a girlfriend for Mr. Shaw or something?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Just Miss Bea.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “I guess I’d know if I saw something, wouldn’t I? Of course, I don’t go sneaking around where I’m not wanted.”
    A pebble of irritation lodged between Kirby’s shoulder blades. “If you do see or hear anything, can you let me know?”
    Brittany’s mouth curled into a sneer. “Why should I?”
    Kirby wanted to slap her. Why all the damned attitude? No wonder Frankie was upset. “Because I want to know.”
    “Whatever. Do your own snooping.” She turned her back on Kirby and plopped the dough on the counter.
    Kirby pulled open the back door.
    “If you’re going out to pester Seth, you should leave him alone,” Brittany said.
    “Why would I pester Seth?”
    Brittany smoothed a flaxen braid. “You think you’re so sexy, but Seth doesn’t want you.”
    What was going on here? While Seth Maguire chased Frankie’s money, had he turned his obvious charms on Brittany? “Did he tell you that?”
    Brittany faced Kirby again. “He didn’t have to. I understand him.”
    Maguire had to be at least a decade older than Brittany. Plus, he didn’t strike her as the kind of man with the patience to deal with a silly girl. “Are you sure your signals aren’t crossed?”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Like you know how he feels.”
    Kirby clamped her lips together. She was no Dr. Phil. Besides, she wasn’t much different. Scott was more than a decade older than her, too. “Mr. Maguire is a fine man. I hope you are both very happy.”
    A car with a missing muffler rumbled over the drive. “Who’s that?” Kirby glanced out the window. A rusty Ford Explorer zoomed past.
    “Manny. He usually leaves around four.”
    “He doesn’t live on the ranch?”
    “You sure are full of weird questions today, Miss Frances. You got some big surprise planned for us?”
    What did that mean? “Maybe. You expecting one?”
    “Miss Bea says you can’t be trusted.”
    She would.
    “You like him, don’t you?” Brittany asked. “’Course, you like everyone. Or at least the guys.”
    It was the truth. Frankie’s self-control was nearly nonexistent when it came to men. Although loose morals weren’t a crime unless you happened to be living under Grandy’s roof. “He seems a little young for me, don’t you think?” Kirby asked.
    “Well, duh. Why do you think Miss Bea said to stay away from him? I saw you rubbing up against him that time and grabbing him and everything. We all did.”
    That explained the horrified looks this morning. And the hazards she faced if she wanted to finish interviewing him about Charleen’s disappearance without Miss Bea, Mr. Shaw, or Maguire knowing.
    “Are you and Manny friends?”
    “Not really.” She flipped a braid over her shoulder. “But I think he likes me.”
    “Why’s that?”
    Brittany turned to the window and her gaze got dreamy. “Because I feel sorry for him.”
    “Do you think