Free Promise Her by Mitzi Pool Bridges

before he turned into a city lawyer. Just looking at him made her weak in the knees.
    Though she’d vowed to keep her options open, Douglas was in her heart. Maybe forever.
    He caught sight of her, then headed her way.
    “Thought you were busy,” he said with a frown.
    “Thought you wanted to interview some of the folks,” she countered.
    “I do.”
    She didn’t miss his scowl, but doubted it was because of George. “So, where do you want to start?
    The crowd parted, allowing her to see a couple walking across the hall toward the arena. Harold and a blonde. The same woman she’d seen him with the night the cops took her in. The creep. His wife wasn’t cold and he was screwing around already.
    She grabbed Douglas’ arm, pointed discreetly in their direction. “That’s the second time I’ve seen them together. I’d like to know who she is.”
    “Let’s find out.”
    Deep in conversation, the couple didn’t see Douglas as he plowed his way toward them, Lisa in his wake.
    “Mr. Wheatley,” he said extending a hand. “My name is Douglas Callahan, attorney. Sorry to hear about your wife.”
    “Thanks,” Wheatley said without slowing his pace. “It’s been a shock. But I have my own lawyer.”
    “That’s not why I’m here.”
    The blonde turned away, as if she didn’t want to see or talk to anyone.
    When Harold saw Lisa his face closed in anger. “Are you herattorney? If so, we have nothing to talk about.”
    Lisa bristled and stepped forward. Douglas restrained her with a gentle hand on her arm.
    “How dare you tell everyone I hurt my wife?” Wheatley turned on her. “I’ve a good mind to pull your credentials so you can’t compete.”
    “That wouldn’t look good,” Douglas said.
    “Not good for her, you mean?”
    “Not good for you.”
    “Then I suggest you tell your client to stop spreading lies. The longer this chatter goes on, the more upset I get.”
    “I’ll do that,” Douglas said.
    Lisa supposed a loud offense was his way of deflecting guilt. If so, it was working. Curious onlookers were hanging on his every word.
    “I had nothing to do with my wife’s death,” Harold said, his eyes clouded with tears. He glanced at the blonde as if to see if she were still there.
    Lisa followed his gaze. Though the blonde’s back was turned, something about her was familiar. Lisa tried to get a better look, but the woman didn’t turn around.
    “Trust me, Harold. I had no reason to hurt Tempest.”
    “Other than latching onto her to take advantage of her wealth and influence?”
    Lisa lunged forward. Douglas grabbed her arm and held tight.
    “Sounds more like what folks are saying about you,” she growled.
    Harold’s face turned crimson. “Watch it, Ms Kane. You’re treading on very thin ice. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have business to tend to.”
    Lisa turned on her heel and headed back to her seat.
    Douglas fell in behind her.
    They wove their way through the denim-clad crowd until Douglas steered them to a semi-quiet spot.
    “That went well,” Lisa griped. “Harold is a prick. And who is that bimbo with him and his wife isn’t even in her grave?” She pulled out her cell phone, dialed. “Patty, would you e-mail me the pictures you took at the rodeo the other night?”
    She listened a minute. “I’ll call you when I get home. We can discuss it then. And thanks.” As usual, Patty had a problem she wanted to discuss. It would have to wait.
    Shutting off the phone, Lisa looked at Douglas. “I snapped several pictures of the blonde. I’ll see how they came out.” She hoped against hope the pictures were clear enough so Bernie could identify the mystery woman.
    Looking at her watch, she realized she’d been gone too long. She didn’t want George to think she’d run out on him. He was a nice guy even if he wasn’t Mr. Right. “I’ve got to get back,” she said.
    Douglas nodded. “I’ll see if I can learn anything out here before I head home. You might want to keep