Long, Tall Texans: Rey & Long, Tall Texans: Curtis
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Diana Palmer
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From the moment cattleman Rey Hart first sets eyes on Meredith Johns, he is mesmerized. He asks the lovely young woman to become the cook on his ranch, but convincing her to take the job is a cinch compared to breaking the enchanting spell she casts over this long, tall Texan's heart. Hunting down a missing informant, FBI Agent Curtis Russell is determined to accomplish his mission at any cost. So when he butts heads with his mother's beautiful neighbor, deputy D.A. Mary Ryan, he must resist her beauty. But can Agent Russell protect his partner-in-fighting crime when danger looms?
CHAPTER ONE
Meredith Johns glanced around her worriedly at the out-of-control Halloween partygoers in their colorful costumes. Meredith was wearing an outfit left over from college days. She made a good salary at her job, but there was no money for little luxuries like Halloween costumes. She had to budget just to be able to pay the utility bill in the house she shared with her father.
The past few months had been traumatic, and the wear was telling on her. She needed to get out of the house, Jill, one of her colleagues, had said firmlyâespecially after her most agonizing experience at home. Meredith was reluctant. Her father was only just back at their house after three days. But Jill was insistent. So sheâd put on the only costume she had, a bad choice in many ways, and walked the three blocks to her friendâs downtown apartment. She grimaced at her surroundings. What an idiot sheâd been to come to this wild party.
But it really had been a tumultuous week for Meredith and sheâd wanted to get her mind off her troubles. Her fatherâs violent behavior at the house they shared was unnerving. They were both still grieving, but her father had taken the tragedy much harder. He felt responsible. That was why a scholarly, conservative college professor had suddenly retired from his job and turned into an alcoholic. Meredith had tried everything she could think of to get him into treatment, but he refused to go on his own accord and the treatment facilities which would have taken him wouldnât unless he went voluntarily. Only a violent episode that had landed him in jail had temporarily spared her of this saddening experience. But he was out three days later and he had a new bottle of whiskey. She still had to go home after the party. Heâd warned her not to be late. Not that she ever was.
Her grey eyes were sad as she sipped her soft drink. She had no head for alcohol, and she was as out of place here as a cup of tea. Not only that, her costume was drawing unwanted attention from the men. So was her long blond hair. It had been a bad costume choice, but it was the only thing she had to wear on the spur of the moment. Going to a Halloween party in her street clothes would have made her stand out, too.
She moved away from a slightly tipsy colleague who wanted to show her around Jillâs bedroom and unobtrusively put her glass on a table. She found Jill, pleaded a headache, thanked her for a âgoodâ time and headed out the front door as fast as she could. Once on the sidewalk, she drew in a long, sweet breath of fresh air.
What a bunch of wild people! She coughed delicately, remembering the unmistakable smell of that smoke that had been thick enough to obstruct clear vision inside. Sheâd thought it would be fun to go to a party. She might even meet a man who would be willing to take her out and cope with her father. And cows might fly, she told herself. She hadnât been out on a date in months. Sheâd invited one prospective date to her home for supper. But after a good look at her father, who was mean when he drank, the prospective suitor took off. Her heart wasnât in it, anyway. Recently sheâd given up trying to attract anyone. She had her hands full already. Her grief was still fresh, too.
An odd noise attracted her attention as she started back toward her own house. She felt self-conscious in her getup, and remembering the lewd remarks sheâd drawn from a man who was normally very polite and gentlemanly, she was sorry she hadnât had a coat to wear. Her clothes were mostly old, because by the time she made the mortgage payment and took care of the bills, there wasnât much left over. Her father couldnât work and wouldnât get help, and she loved him too much to desert him. It was becoming a costly proposition.
She wrapped her arms around herself and hoped she was covering up enough skin to discourage stalkers. But her skirt was very short and tight, and she was wearing fishnet hose, very high heels, a low-cut blouse and a flaming pink feather boa. Her blond hair was loose around her shoulders and she was wearing enough makeup to do justice to a ballet recital. She winced, hoping she hadnât been noticed. Sheâd gone to the party as a burlesque dancer. Sadly she looked more like a professional hooker in her garb.
She rounded a corner and saw two shadowy figures bending over what looked like a man on the ground.
âHey! What do you think youâre doing there?â she yelled, making as much noise as possible. Then she started running toward them and waving her arms, yelling threats as she went.
As she expected, the surprise of her aggressive presence shocked them into retreat. They jumped up and ran away, without even looking back. The best defense, she thought with faint amusement, was always a good offense. It was a calculated bluff, but sheâd seen it work for women smaller in stature than she was.
She ran to the downed man and examined him the best she could in the dim glow of the streetlights.
Concussion, she thought, feeling his head and encountering a metallic smelling wetness. Blood. Heâd been hit on the head by his assailants, and probably robbed as well. She felt around under the jacket he was wearing and her hand touched something small and square on his belt. She pulled it out.
âAha,â she said with a triumphant grin. A man dressed as well as he was could be expected to have a cell phone. She dialed 911 and gave the operator her location and the condition of her patient, staying on the line while the dispatcher got an ambulance en route.
While she waited for it, she sat down on the pavement beside the man and held his hand.
He groaned and tried to move.
âDonât do that,â she said firmly. âYouâll be okay. You mustnât move until the EMTs get here. I havenât got anything to treat you with.â
âHeadâŠhurts.â
âI imagine it does. Youâve got a heck of a bump. Just lie still. Feel sick, sleepyâŠ?â
âSick,â he managed weakly.
âLie still.â She lifted her head to listen for the ambulance, and sure enough, a siren sounded nearby. The hospital was less than two blocks from her home, maybe four from here. Lucky for this guy, whoever he was. Head injuries could be fatal.
âMyâŠbrothers,â the man was whispering brokenly. âHartâŠRanch. Jacobsville, Texas.â
âIâll make sure theyâre contacted,â she promised.
He gripped her hand, hard, as he fought not to lose consciousness. âDonâtâŠleave me,â he ground out.
âI wonât. I promise.â
âAngel,â he whispered. He took a long, shaky breath, and went back into the oblivion heâd left so briefly. That wasnât a good sign.
The ambulance rounded the corner, and the headlights spilled out onto Meredith and her patient. She got to her feet as two EMTs, one male and one female, piled out the doors and rushed to the downed man.
âHead wound,â she told them. âPulse is slow, but steady. Heâs coherent, some nausea, his skin is cold and clammy. Blunt force trauma, probably mild concussionâŠâ
âDonât I know you?â the female EMT asked. Her face brightened. âGot you! Youâre Johns!â
âThatâs me,â Meredith said with a grin. âI must be famous!â
âSorry, not youâyour dad.â She winced at the look on Meredithâs face.
Meredith sighed. âYes, he spends a lot of time on ambulances these days.â
âWhat happened here?â the woman asked quickly, changing the subject. âDid you see anything?â
âI yelled and scared off two guys who were bending over him,â she volunteered. âI donât know if they were the ones who hit him or not. What do you think?â she added as the woman gave him a professional once-over.
âConcussion, definitely,â she agreed. âNothing broken, but heâs got a lump the size of the national debt here on his head. Weâll transport him. Coming along?â
âI guess I should,â Meredith said, waiting until they loaded him onto the gurney. He was still unconscious. âBut Iâm not exactly dressed for visiting a hospital.â
The EMT gave her a speaking glance. âShould I ask why youâre dressed like that? And does your boss know youâre moonlighting?â she added wickedly.
âJill Baxley had a Halloween party. She thought I should come.â
The other womanâs eyebrows levered up. âJillâs parties are notorious for getting out of control. Iâve never even seen you take a drink.â
âMy father drinks enough for both of us,â came the reply. âI donât drink or use drugs, and I need my head examined for going to that party. I escaped early, which is how I found this guy.â
âLucky for him,â the woman murmured as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance. âJudging by his condition, he could have died if he hadnât been found in time.â
Meredith climbed up into the back and sat down on the bench while the driver got in under the wheel and the female EMT called the hospital emergency room for orders. It was going to be a long night, Meredith thought worriedly, and her father was going to be very upset when she got home. He and her mother had been really close, but her mother had been fond of going to parties and staying out until the early morning; sometimes with other men. Recent events had made him dwell on that behavior. Her father seemed to have transferred that old contempt to her. It made her uneasy to think of arriving home in the wee hours. Anything could happen. On the other hand, how could she leave this man? She was the only person who knew who to contact for him. Sheâd promised to stay with him. She couldnât let him down.
* * *
He was examined by the resident on duty in the emergency room, who diagnosed concussion. Heâd been unconscious most of the way to the hospital, but heâd come out of it just once to look up at Meredith and smile, tightening his big hand around the fingers that were holding it.
His family had to be notified, and Meredith was coaxed into making the call to Jacobsville for the harassed and overworked emergency room staff.
She was given a phone and a telephone directory which also listed Jacobs County, of which Jacobsville was the county seat. She looked through it until she found a listing for Hart Ranch Properties, Inc. That had to be it.
She dialed the number and waited. A deep, drawling voice answered, âHart Ranch.â
âUh, Iâm calling for a Mr. Leo Hart,â she said, having found his driverâs license in the wallet his assailants hadnât had time to steal. âHeâs at Houston GeneralâŠâ
âWhat happened?â the voice asked impatiently. âIs he all right?â
âHe was mugged. He has a concussion,â she added. âHe canât give the staff any medical informationâŠâ
âWho are you?â
âIâm Meredith Johns. I workâŠ
âWho found him?â
âI did, actually. I called the ambulance on his cell phone. He said to call his brothers and he told me where they wereâŠâ
âItâs two oâclock in the morning!â the voice pointed out angrily.
âYes, I am aware of that,â she began. âIt only happened a little while ago. I was walking down the street when I saw him on the sidewalk. He needs his familyââ
âIâm his brother, Rey. Iâll be there in thirty minutes.â
âSir, itâs a long way to Houston from where you are. If you drive that fastâŠ!â she said at once.
âWe have an airplane. Iâll get the pilot out of bed right now. Thanks.â He added that last word as if it hurt him, and hung up.
Meredith went back to the waiting room. Ten minutes later, she was admitted to the room where the victim had been examined.
âHeâs conscious,â the attending physician told her. âIâm going to admit him overnight, just to be sure. Any luck with his family?â
âHis brother is on the way, in his own plane, apparently,â she said. âI didnât get a thing out of him. Sorry.â
âPeople get upset and they donât think,â the resident said with a weary smile. âHow about staying with him? Weâre understaffed because of that respiratory virus thatâs going around, and he shouldnât be alone.â
âIâll stay,â she said with a grin. âItâs not as if I have a hectic social life.â
The resident pursed his lips and smirked at her outfit.
âHalloween party,â she said, grimacing. âAnd next time I get invited, Iâll have a broken leg, I swear it!â
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, there was a problem. It was six feet tall, had black hair and dark eyes and it erupted into the hospital cubicle like an F-5 tornado, dressed in jeans and boots and a fringed rawhide jacket thrown carelessly over what looked like a beige silk shirt. The wide-brimmed hat slanted over those threatening eyes was a Stetson, one of the most expensive made, with its distinctive feathered logo pin on the hatband. He looked impressively rich, and excessively angry.
The man was livid when he saw his big brother, still drifting in and out of consciousness, on the examining table. He gave Meredith a scrutiny that could have peeled paint off old furniture, his eyes narrowing contemptuously on her costume.
âWell, that explains why you were on the street at two in the morning,â he snarled angrily. âWhat happened? Did you feel guilty and call for help after you tried to roll him?â he added sarcastically.
âLook here,â she began, rising.
âSave it.â He turned to the big man on the table and laid a lean, strong hand on his brotherâs broad chest. âLeo. Leo, itâs Rey! Can you hear me?â he asked in a tone that combined affection with concern.
The big manâs eyes blinked and opened. He stared blankly up at the leaner man. âRey?â
âWhat happened to you?â Rey Hart demanded gently.
Leo grinned wearily. âI was thinking about new forage grasses and wasnât paying attention to my surroundings,â he murmured drowsily. âSomething hit me in the head and I went down like a brick. Didnât see a thing.â He winced and felt clumsily in his pockets. âDamn! My walletâs gone. Soâs my cell phone.â
Meredith started to tell him that she had the phone and wallet in her purse for safekeeping, but before she could speak, Rey Hart gave her a furious, speaking glance and walked out of the cubicle like a man hunting a fight.
His brother drifted off again. Meredith stood beside him, wondering what to do. Five minutes later, Rey Hart walked back in accompanied by a tall man in a police uniform. He looked familiar, but Meredith couldnât quite place him. She knew sheâd seen him before.
âThatâs her,â Rey told the policeman, indicating Meredith. âIâll sign anything necessary as soon as I see that my brotherâs going to be okay. But get her out of here.â
âDonât worry. Iâll handle it,â the policeman said quietly. He handcuffed Meredith with easy efficiency and pulled her out of the cubicle before she could protest.
âIâm being arrested?â she exclaimed, stunned. âBut, why? I havenât done anything!â
âYes, I know, Iâve heard it all before,â the officer told her in a bored tone when she tried to explain what had happened. âNobodyâs ever guilty. Honest to God, dressed like that, out on the streets alone after midnight, you were bound to be up to no good. What did you do with his cell phone and his wallet?â
âTheyâre in my pocketbook,â she began.
He confiscated it from her shoulder and propelled her out of the building. âYouâre going to be in a lot of trouble. You picked the wrong man to rob.â
âSee here, I didnât mug him! It was two men. I didnât see their faces, but they were bending over him as I came down the sidewalk.â
âSoliciting is a felony,â he pointed out.
âI wasnât soliciting anything! Iâd just come from a Halloween party dressed as a burlesque dancer!â she raged, furious that she was being punished for having done someone a good turn. She read his name tag. âOfficer Sanders, you have to believe me!â
He didnât say a word. He drew her with him, firmly but gently, and put her into the back seat of the police car.
âWait,â she told him before he could close the door. âYou get my wallet out of my purse and look in it. Right now,â she insisted.
He gave her an impatient look, but he did what she asked. He looked through the plastic inserts in her wallet and glanced at her with a changed expression. âI thought you looked familiar, Johns,â he murmured, using her last name, as most people she knew at work did.
âI didnât mug Mr. Hart,â she continued. âAnd I can prove where I was when he was being mugged.â She gave him her friend Jillâs address.
He gave in. He drove to Jillâs apartment, went to the door, spoke to an obviously intoxicated and amused Jill and came back to the squad car. He let Meredith out of the back of the squad car and took off the handcuffs. It was cool in the night air, and Meredith felt self-conscious and uncomfortable in her garb, even though the police officer knew the truth now.
âIâm really sorry,â he told her with a grimace as he met her grey eyes. âI didnât recognize you. All I knew was what Mr. Hart told me, and he was too upset to think straight. You have to admit, you donât look very professional tonight.â
âI do realize that. Mr. Hart cares about his brother, and he doesnât know what happened,â she pointed out. âHe walked in and saw his brother on the table and me dressed like this,â she indicated her clothing, âand his brother said his wallet and cell phone were missing. He doesnât know me from a stump. You canât blame him for thinking the worst. But those two men who hit him would have gotten his wallet if I hadnât come along, and theyâre still on the loose.â
âCan you show me where you found him?â he asked.
âOf course. It was just down the sidewalk, that way.â
She led and he followed her, with his big wide-angle flashlight sweeping the sidewalk and the grass as they walked. She pointed to an area of flattened grass. He left her on the sidewalk and gave the area a thorough scrutiny, looking for clues. He found a candy wrapper and a cigarette butt.
âI donât guess you know if Mr. Hart smokes or likes candy?â he asked.
She shook her head. âSorry. All he told me was his brothersâ names and where they lived. I donât know anything more about him.â
He stood up. âIâll ask his brother later. Wait here while I call for one of the technicians to bag this evidence,â he told her.
âOkay,â she said agreeably, drawing the feather boa closer. It was getting cold standing around briefly clad, waiting for crime scene investigators. âSomebodyâs going to love being turned out of bed to come look at a cigarette butt and a candy wrapper,â she stated with helpless amusement.
âYouâd be surprised at what excites those guys,â he chuckled. âCatching crooks isnât exactly a chore to them. Itâs high drama.â
âI hope they catch these two,â she said firmly. âNobody should have to be afraid to walk down the streets at night. Even after dark, dressed like this, alone,â she added pointedly, indicating her clothes.
âGood point,â he was fair enough to admit.
He called in his location and requested crime scene technicians. Meredith was ready to go home, but she couldnât leave until sheâd given the policeman a statement for his report. She sat in his car, with the overhead lights on, writing out what she knew of the attack on Leo Hart. It didnât take long, because she didnât know much.
She handed it back to him. âCan I go home now?â she asked. âI live with my father and heâs going to be upset because Iâm coming home so late. I can walk. Itâs only about three blocks from here.â
He frowned. âYour father is Alan Johns, isnât he?â he asked. His expression changed. âDo you want me to go with you?â
She didnât usually flinch at facing her irate parent. She was gutsy, and she could handle herself. But tonight, sheâd been through a lot. âWould you?â she asked, uneasy because her fear was visible.
âNo problem. Get in.â
He drove her to her house and went to the door with her. The house was dark and there was no movement inside. She let out a sigh of relief. âItâs okay. If he was awake, the lights would be on. Thanks, anyway,â she said with a smile.
âIf you need us, call,â he said. âIâm afraid Iâll be in touch again about this. Rey Hart already reminded me that his brother is our state attorney general. Heâs not going to let this case go until itâs solved.â
âI donât blame him. Those guys are a menace and theyâre probably still running around looking for easy targets to rob. Take care.â
âYou, too. And Iâm sorry about the handcuffs,â he added, with the first smile sheâd seen on his lean face since her ordeal began.
She smiled back. âMy fault, for wearing a costume like this on the streets,â she admitted. âI wonât do it again. Thanks for the ride.â
* * *
Back at the hospital, Rey Hart sat by his brotherâs bedside until dawn, in the private room heâd obtained for him. He was worried. Leo was the hardiest one of the lot, and the most cautious as a rule. He was the prankster, always playing jokes, cheering them up in bad times. Now, he lay still and quiet and Rey realized how much his sibling meant to him.
It infuriated him that that woman had thought nothing of robbing his brother while he was sick and weak and helpless. He wondered what sheâd hit him with. She wasnât a big woman. Odd, that sheâd been able to reach as high as Leoâs head with some blunt object. He recalled with distaste the way sheâd been dressed. He was no prude, but in his early twenties heâd had a fling with a woman he later found out was a private call girl. Heâd been infatuated with her, and thought she loved him. When he learned her profession and that sheâd recognized him at once and knew how wealthy he was, it had soured him on women. Like his married brothers had been, and Leo still was, he was wary of females. If he could find a man who could bake biscuits, he told himself, heâd never let even an old woman into the house ever again.
He recalled their latest acquisition with sorrow. He and Leo had found a retired pastry chef whoâd moved in with themâthe last of the Hart bachelorsâto bake their beloved biscuits. Sheâd become ill and theyâd rushed to the drugstore to get her prescriptions, along with candy and chocolates and a bundle of flowers. But her condition had worsened and sheâd told them, sadly, that the job was just too much in her frail state of health. She had to quit. It was going to be hard to replace her. There werenât a lot of people who wanted to live on an isolated ranch and bake biscuits at all hours of the day and night. Even want ads with offers of a princely salary hadnât attracted anyone just yet. It was depressing; like having Leo lying there under white sheets, so still and quiet in that faded striped hospital gown.
Rey dozed for a few hours in the deep night, used to sleeping in all sorts of odd positions and places. Cattle ranchers could sleep in the saddle when they had to, he thought amusedly, especially when calving was underway or there was a storm or they were cutting out and branding calves and doing inventory of the various herds.
But he came awake quickly when Sanders, the police officer whoâd arrested that woman last night, came into the room with a murmured apology.
âIâm just going off shift,â Officer Sanders told Rey. âI thought Iâd stop by and tell you that weâve gone over the scene of the attack and we have some trace evidence. The detectives will start looking for other witnesses this morning. Weâll get the people responsible for the attack on your brother.â
Rey frowned. âGet âthemâ?â he queried. âYouâve already got her. You arrested her!â
Officer Sanders averted his eyes. âHad to turn her loose,â he said uneasily. âShe had an alibi, which was confirmed. She gave me a statement and I took her home.â
Rey stood up, unfolding his intimidating length, and glared at the officer. âYou let her go,â he said coldly. âWhereâs my brotherâs cell phone?â he added as an afterthought.
The policeman grimaced. âIn her purse, along with his wallet,â he said apologetically. âI forgot to ask her for them when I left. Tell you what, Iâll swing by her house and get them on my way homeâŠâ
âIâll go with you,â he said curtly. âI still think sheâs guilty. Sheâs probably in cahoots with the guys who attacked Leo. And she could have paid someone to lie and give her an alibi.â
âSheâs not that sort of woman,â the policeman began.
Rey cut him off angrily. âI donât want to hear another word about her! Letâs go,â he said, grabbing his hat, with a last, worried glance at his sleeping brother. He wondered how the policeman could make such a statement about a woman heâd just met, but he didnât really care. He wanted her in jail.
* * *
He drove his rental car, with the off-duty policeman beside him, to Meredithâs home, following the directions Officer Sanders gave him. It was in a run-down neighborhood, and the house was in poor condition. It only intensified Reyâs suspicions about her. She was obviously poor. What better way to get money than to rob somebody?
He went to the door, accompanied by the policeman, and knocked. Hard.
He had to do it three times, each with more force and impatience, before someone answered the door.
Meredith Johns was disheveled and white-faced. She was clutching a bulky washcloth to her face and wearing a robe over the clothes sheâd had on the night before.
âWhat do you want now?â she asked huskily, her voice slurred and jerky.
âBeen drinking, have you?â Rey Hart asked in a blistering tone.
She flinched.
Officer Sanders knew what was going on. He read the situation immediately. He stepped past Rey, grim and silent, grimacing when he saw Meredithâs face. He went by her and into the living room and began looking around.
âHard night, I gather? It must be a continual risk, in your profession,â Rey said insinuatingly, with a speaking glance at her dress in the opening of the old, worn robe. âDo your marks make a habit of beating you up?â he added with cold contempt.
She didnât answer him. It was hard to talk and her face hurt.
Officer Sanders had gone into the bedroom. He came back two minutes later with a tall, disheveled but oddly dignified-looking man in handcuffs. The man, whoâd been quiet before, was now cursing furiously, accusing Meredith of everything from prostitution to murder in a voice that rose until he was yelling. Rey Hart looked at him with obvious surprise. His eyes went to Meredith Johns, who was stiff as a poker and wincing every time the man yelled at her. The policeman picked up the telephone and called for a squad car.
âPlease, donât,â Meredith pleaded, still clutching the ice-filled cloth to her face. âHeâs only just got outâŠâ
âHe isnât staying. This time, heâs going to be in jail for longer than three days,â the officer said firmly. âYou get to the hospital and let one of the residents look at you, Miss Johns. How bad is it? Come on, show me,â he demanded, moving closer.
Rey stood by, silent and confused, watching as Meredith winced and moved the bulky cloth away from her face. His breath was audible when he saw the swelling and the growing purple and violet discoloration around her eye, cheek and jaw.
âGod Almighty,â Rey said harshly. âWhat did he hit you with?â
âHis fist,â the policeman replied coldly. âAnd it isnât the first time. You have to face facts, Miss Johns,â he told her. âHe isnât the man he used to be. When he drinks, he doesnât know what heâs doing. Heâll kill you one night when heâs like this, and he wonât even remember doing it!â
âI wonât press charges,â she said miserably. âHow can I? Heâs my father! Heâs the only family I have left in the worldâŠ.â
The policeman looked at her with compassion. âYou donât have to press charges,â he told her. âIâll provide them myself. Youâd better phone your boss and tell him you wonât be in for a few weeks. Heâll have kittens if you walk into the office looking like that.â
âI suppose he would.â Tears ran down her pale cheeks, all the more eloquent for being silent. She looked at her raging, cursing father and sadness claimed her features. âHe wasnât like this before, honest he wasnât,â she told them. âHe was a kind, loving, caring man.â
âNot anymore,â Officer Sanders replied grimly. âGet to the hospital and have your face seen about, Miss Johns. Iâll take your father outside until the unit comesâŠâ
âNo,â she groaned. âPlease, spare us that! I canât bear to have the whole neighborhood watching, hearing himâŠlike that, again!â
He hesitated. âOkay. Iâll watch for them out the window. The unit can drop you by the hospital, since itâs going there firstâŠ.â
âIâll take her,â Rey said at once, without wondering why he should do such an about-face. He didnât trust the woman, or even totally believe her story. But she did look so pitiful. He couldnât bear to leave her in that condition to get to the hospital. Besides, whatever her motives, she had gotten help for Leo. He could have died if he hadnât been cared for.
âButâŠâ she began.
âIf,â he added coldly, âyou change clothes first. I am not being seen in public with you in that rig!â
