Zeph Undercover by Jenny Andersen Page B

picture.”
    Mentrine looked satisfied, and the riders went off to clean up before dinner.
    Later that evening, Zeph leaned back in his chair and considered the company. Mentrine sure knew how to throw a stag dinner. Butter-tender steaks, twice-baked potatoes, and a soufflé that would have Emeril begging for the recipe, followed by brandy and cigars. Zeph had met the two biggest builders—besides Mentrine—in the area, and both of them had been more than happy to talk about malls and office buildings they’d be happy to construct for him. Fueled by a constant stream of alcohol before and during dinner, and some excellent brandy afterward, they’d even joked about undercutting each other’s bids.
    “I thought Mayor Hunnewill was coming,” Zeph said over the second brandy. Everyone laughed, and he looked at Mentrine to see what was so funny.
    “Clark doesn’t do this kind of investment,” Mentrine said. “He saves his energies for politics.”
    Something for Zeph to check out as soon as he got back to Stone’s Crossing. He wasn’t taking any chances on doing it while he was still on Mentrine’s home turf.
    “I’ve been visiting in Stone’s Crossing,” Zeph said. “Not much going on in a place like that, but there used to be a builder there. Maybe he made a bid for some bigger jobs. Blanton, I mean.”
    “Never heard of him,” said Crandall.
    Anderville shook his head. “Lots of wanna-be’s in this business.” He shrugged. “Guess he’s not anyone important.”
    “Derek Blanton,” Mentrine said. “I knew him. Slightly. Came to a bad end, I heard.”
    Too uninterested to be true? Zeph made a mental note to look for any link between Mentrine and Blanton. And to ask Frank to run financials on the other two men. Also, he needed to identify the man in the picture with Mentrine.
    When—if—he proved one of them guilty, he’d be back on track with Allie.

Chapter 5
    He didn’t get back to Stone’s Crossing until the middle of the next day. The need to make peace with Allie lent urgency to each mile. He should have gotten her flowers. No, he shouldn’t. Yes. No. He hated waffling like this. Generally, he knew how to soothe irritated women, but Allie wouldn’t go for the usual flowers/apology/fancy evening. She was—different. He ignored the thought that tried to form.
    When he reached the clinic, the waiting room overflowed with dogs and cats and little furry things he couldn’t identify. One kid clutched a cardboard box like the contents might escape. It might hold anything. He backed away and headed for the rear entrance, much better than getting involved in that melee. In the kitchen, he smacked into Allie.
    “Thank goodness,” she said. “Can you get out to the desk and answer the phone for me? Take messages unless it’s an emergency.”
    “Yes, but—”
    “The answering machine’s not working.”
    “But—”
    She rushed into one of the examination rooms without waiting for an answer.
    Two minutes ago, he thought he’d do anything to stay out of that room full of animals. Now, all he could think was, God, could it be this easy? Probably not, but helping couldn’t hurt his chances with Allie. He headed for the front of the clinic.
    Three hours later, the waiting room had emptied and he pushed away from the desk and stood, stretching the kinks out of his back.
    Allie came into the room, drying her hands. “Thank you.” After an awkward pause, she added, “It was nice of you to help after the way I acted yesterday. I apologize.”
    “Don’t worry about it. The situation has to be hard for you.”
    She nodded.
    “Does it help that I don’t think your father’s guilty?”
    “Then why—? Never mind. I understand about evidence that can stand up in court. It’s just that I know Dad would never—don’t raise your eyebrow at me like that.”
    “How many times do I have to say I don’t think he’s guilty? And you’re right. I have to have hard facts. It’s all about