ations of musical stardom, as far as Serena knew, but he must be in search of something. Or running away from something. Why else would he be living on the road, drifting from place to place doing the occasional odd job, with no one or nothing permanent in his life?
Just as that question crossed her mind, someone knocked on the back door. At the same time, the front doorbell chimed, announcing another caller. Serena and Marjorie hesitated, looking at each other in mutual curiosity, and then Serena turned toward the kitchen door. “You let Sam in. I’ll answer the front door.”
Although she hadn’t been expecting him, Serena wasn’t particularly surprised to find Chief Dan Meadows on her doorstep. His dark scowl gave her a clue as to the purpose of his unannounced call. “I take it you aren’t popping in for lunch.”
“Tell me the rumors I heard aren’t true,” he said, ignoring her quip.
“That depends on what you heard.”
“Have you and Marjorie invited Sam Wallace to live in your guest house?”
“You might as well come in,” she said, holding the door wider and bracing herself for a lecture.
“So it is true.” Dan was shaking his head when he passed her on his way to the living room. He’d already launched into his speech by the time she closed the door behind him. “Serena, I can’t believe you’ve brought this man into your home. You don’t know anything about him, except that someone beat the crap out of him and threw him in your ditch.”
“He didn’t have a place to stay.”
“So you brought him home.” He ran a hand through his hair, almost audibly grinding his teeth. “A total stranger with no ID, no money and a story that barely holds water.”
“You have reason to believe he’s been lying to us?”
“No,” Dan admitted. “But I have no proof he’s telling the truth, either,” he added. “I can’t find anyone who saw the truck he described, nor can I find any information on Sam Wallace.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? That he doesn’t have a record, I mean.”
“Not as far as I can find out,” Dan said cautiously. “But since he’s given me nothing more than a name to work with, that’s not saying much.”
“What would you like, Chief? Fingerprints? Blood, maybe?”
The lazy drawl from behind them made Serena and Dan turn. Sam and Marjorie stood in the opposite doorway, Marjorie looking distressed, Sam nonchalant.
“We could start with blood,” Dan agreed in a mutter, not looking at all disconcerted to have been overheard.
Marjorie planted her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing, Dan Meadows. Since when is it a crime to be the victim of a robbery? You should be out trying to catch the robbers who beat up Sam, not browbeating Sam for no good reason.”
Marjorie’s remonstration accomplished what Sam’s sarcasm had not. Dan looked suddenly abashed. “I’m only saying there are parts of this guy’s story that just don’t add up. And he’s told us nothing about who he is or where he comes from. How do we know he can be trusted?”
Marjorie wasn’t appeased. “You’re saying he faked his injuries? That would certainly be news to Dr. Frank.”
“Of course he didn’t fake his injuries. It’s obvious he’s been beaten. But…”
“Exactly.” Marjorie dropped her hands with an air of finality. “Now, are you staying for lunch?”
“Well, I…”
“Serena, set another place. Dan will be joining us. But only if he’s polite to our other guest,” Marjorie added, giving Dan a stern look.
Serena couldn’t help but smile at Dan’s expression. He hadn’t come for lunch, but she wasn’t surprised that Marjorie had railroaded him into it. There was something about her mother that could turn even the most macho of males into toe-scuffing schoolboys. She had no doubt that both Sam and Dan would be on their best behavior during dinner. Marjorie was likely to send them to separate corners if they weren’t. And Serena suspected they would go.
Smiling at that image, she went to obey her mother’s instructions and set another place at the table.
Chapter Five
As Serena had predicted, Dan behaved well enough during the meal, but he didn’t let etiquette stop him from grilling Sam at every opportunity—cordially, of course. Marjorie wouldn’t have tolerated otherwise. “You said you were passing through looking for work when you accepted a ride from the men who robbed you. Where were you working before?”
Keeping his eyes on his plate, Sam cut into his tender pot roast. “Here and there. Oklahoma, most recently.”
“Yeah? Where in Oklahoma?”