by Geri Foster
Kendall shook her head and looped arms with Rachel. "Yes, you did. I should've listened. I didn't learn anything except I hate those people. Wonder what my parents see in them?"
"Strange," Rachel mused, "but my mom never cared for her. I don't know why, but they barely speak."
"Maybe she's smarter than my mom."
"Could be Rachel's mother saw under her thick veneer," Lucas said.
Walking into the mysterious and prohibited Frankie's Bar sent a wave of nostalgia through Rachel's body and she shivered with wickedness. All through her teenage years, she and Kendall had anticipated the day they would be old enough to walk in and order a beer. Every kid did. It was the coolest place in town when you were a young teenager.
Unfortunately, upon entering, the place was dark and smelly. Nothing like the bars in the Westend, Dallas. And if you were expecting fancy, Frankie's wasn't the place to be. Right down to the sawdust on the floor. She didn't know of a bar that still used the stuff.
George Strait sang about Amarillo on the jukebox and the colorful neon lights above the bar flickered on and off. Lucas led them to a table in the corner and a young woman, wearing a cropped off tee shirt and a pair of short shorts, came over carrying a tray.
"Howdy, Lucas. What can I get y’all?"
Looking at the tall, shapely blonde sent a wave of jealousy through her that surprised her. Surely, she didn't think a man like him had been celibate all this time. The greeting said he was a regular, and the hungry look in the waitress' warm brown eyes made her wonder if Lucas had ever taken her up on what she clearly offered.
"Just three beers, Lola."
Lola turned a little too quickly to be happy with his reply. Clearly, she wanted him to order something else. She watched the woman retreat, her curvy ass swaying seductively. "She looks a little disappointed."
"Who?" Lucas asked, checking his phone.
"Lola."
He looked up with his brows furrowed. "Why would she be disappointed?"
She and Kendall shared a knowing look.
After Lola delivered their beers, Kendall took a long drink and said, "As I was saying, I think the Vice President and his wife are into something."
Lucas put away his phone. "They aren't the friendliest people in town, but I don't think they were involved with the bank robbery. When all this happened, Spears appeared to be the most sympathetic, and against your dad being accused of anything."
"Maybe he was covering his own butt," Kendall said. "After all, he gave him the job."
"Why does everyone keep saying that? He earned the job.” It might have been semantics but the connotation drove her nuts. “What happened to the man who was the accountant before my dad?"
Lucas took a drink of his beer, set his bottle down and paused. "I don't remember. I think he left for a job in Dallas. I'll have to ask my dad, he knew the guy."
Kendall shook her head, "I don't remember either. I just know that Mr. Burke and Nancy Wigan have been there since the bank opened. Now she doesn't have a job anymore."
"We're not in agreement about her after our conversation with her,” she said. “Lucas thinks she's innocent, but I saw a magazine on England, a place there’s no way she can afford to go to, considering she told us she can barely buy groceries."
"Oh, she's always wanted to travel. I think every time she got time off she went somewhere."
"To Europe?"
"No, no, she never had that kind of money, but on occasion Nancy went to California, or Arizona. I remember once she told me about her trip to the Grand Canyon."
"So, we learned she liked to travel," Lucas’ expression turned sour.
"You don’t really suspect her, do you Rachel? I mean she was a great clerk at the bank, but other than that, I don't think she had the ambition."
She considered that. Ambition. Her dad had a strong desire to do well for his family. He often talked about going back for a master’s in math, but kept saying he was too old. Thinking back to the evening her dad explained about him leaving the trucking company and going to work at the bank, he didn't sound all that excited, even though it paid more money.
"Lucas, do you remember when my dad got the job at the bank?"
"Yeah, he told me and my dad the day he gave his notice to Ed at the transport company."
"Did he seem happy?"
Lucas thought for a few minutes. "Not really. But he did say it paid more."
"My dad loved working with the owner of the freight business and Ed Forrester. I heard him talking to Mom once about how the company would be expanding soon, and he was excited because he may be moved to Operations Manager."
Lucas took a sip of beer and put the bottle down. "Then why did he take Spears’ offer to work at the bank if he thought the place he was at had a better future?"
"I don't know. But I think I need to find out."
They stood, and Lucas tossed several bills on the table. Meeting her eyes, he asked, "You want to come out to my place and I'll cook us a couple of steaks?" He nodded to Kendall, "You're welcome to come along too."
Kendall’s face crumpled. "No thanks, I have dinner planned with my folks tonight. Yippee."
"I'll pass too," she found herself saying. She knew, if she wanted to work out her feelings, she needed to stay as far away from his place as possible. "Maybe some other time."
"Hopefully before you leave?"
She hated the look of disappointment in his eyes, but she wasn’t ready to risk her heart. It had been broken before and she had promised herself, if she came to Rainwater for her grandma's birthday, she would protect it against Lucas' devilish charms no matter what. Now, the tables were beginning to turn and she needed to consider if she was willing to turn with them…give him another chance.
With that in mind, she agreed, "I think so."
Kendall shoved in her chair and looked at Lucas. "Are you coming to Grandma Mercy's birthday party Saturday?"
He shook his head, "Not invited and, if I were, there's a good chance I'd be shot."
She smiled. "Oh, you're coming. I won’t let Grandma get away with that. Besides, I doubt she'd shoot you in front of the whole town."
"Ha!" he laughed. "Little do you know."
They went to his pick-up and he drove her to get her car where it was parked in front of Gert's Diner, where he’d picked her up. Once they stopped, she rushed to open the door. She may be on the fence about him, but she was in no hurry to give him the chance to sway her to his side with his scorching kisses. She had a bad track record of giving in in this truck. As she opened her door, he called out, "I'll be by at eight tomorrow. Be ready."
"What?"
"Eight. Dallas. Remember?"
She clutched the top of her door. "Didn't I say no?"
"You did, but I want to spend time with you."
She glanced away. "I'm sure you do."
"Come on, what else do you have going on?"
She shook her head. "I could wash my hair." She taunted him.
He smiled so generously, she had to hold on to keep from crumbling to the parking lot.
"I promise not to kiss you."
"Oh, now you're disappointing me." She teased.
He made a move to get out of his vehicle, "I can remedy that in a hurry."
Laughing, she quickly jumped in her Honda. "Eight tomorrow," she called out. Starting her car she drove away, smiling.
Chapter 16
The next morning, Lucas arose from the most decent night’s sleep he’d had since Rachel arrived in Rainwater. Her being there certainly hadn’t been helping his sleep pattern, but something had changed last night. She wasn’t as closed off as she had been. As he showered, thoughts of her warm body against his had him turning up the cold water.
Dressing quickly, he left the house, determined to do what he could to win her back. It had been eight years and still no other woman captured his interest. Not even Lola who had practically laid it out on the table. He enjoyed a little entertainment occasionally, but
never in town or from the local women. He didn't want the gossip and he didn't want to keep running into ladies he had no intention of furthering the relationship with.
At Rachel's he got out and approached the house. Before he could put his foot on the porch, Grandma Mercy met him, her arms crossed, her face set in stone.
"What are you doing here?"
He gave her his brightest, most charming smile. "I'm picking up Rachel. We're running to Dallas this morning."
"I told you to stay away or get shot."
He put his hand on his thigh and squinted down at her. "I could arrest you for threatening an officer of the law."
"And I could make sure you don't get reelected."
He stepped on the porch. "Who says I'm running? Rainwater may have to find a new Sheriff. Could be someone more experienced from Dallas or Fort Worth." He looked around. "Maybe that's what this sleepy little town needs. A real gung-ho police department." He arched a brow. "One that doesn't put up with a lot of nonsense."
Grandma Mercy thought about that for a few minutes before she stepped aside and let him enter a place he hadn't been welcomed into in years. Memories from long ago flooded his mind, reminiscence of laughter, stolen kisses. A quick glance out the sliding glass door at the dock brought back that magical night like it was yesterday…and the conversation he had with Rachel about it.
"I guess I need to start carrying cans of soup in my purse like Hope. Seems the only way to make people listen anymore."
"Peaches," he said, turning back to Grandma Mercy and shaking off his reverie.
She turned from the coffee pot and stared at him. "I'm clean out of peaches."
"No, Grandma Hope carries two cans of peaches in her purse," he corrected.
She looked shocked. "Lord Almighty, it's a miracle she hasn't killed someone. They weigh sixteen ounces a piece, soup's a lot lighter."
"I reminded her of that yesterday when she attacked the President of the bank. When I passed by the bank today, I didn't see Burke’s Cadillac parked out back."
"Well, now," she straightened, "she can beat him to death with an anvil for all I care. He deserves everything he gets."
"Not according to the law. That purse could be classified as a weapon. I won't be a bit surprised if Burke doesn't show up at my office today to file a complaint."
"Let him," she spat. "He pushes his weight around too much. ‘Bout time he gets a little competition."
Lucas hadn’t heard that before. Could another bank be coming to Rainwater? "What have you done, Miss Mercy?"
She averted her gaze, guilt written all over her wrinkled face. "Nothing that concerns you, young man."
"If you stir up any more trouble—"
"What trouble?" Rachel called behind him, as she made her way down the hall to the kitchen. She glanced between him and her grandma suspiciously. "I expected you to wait in your pick-up."
"I'm on official business, I'm driving the squad car."
"So, why aren't you in it?"
"Because he wants to get me all riled up, that's why."
Rachel scowled and tilted her head, obviously not thrilled to see him in her grandma’s house.
"You invited me to her birthday party. Or did you forget that?"
"You did what?" Grandma Mercy’s face clouded up.
"My goodness, what's going on so early this morning?" Rachel's mom entered the kitchen eating area. She stepped over to him and he kissed her on the cheek. There had never been hard feelings between them. “Were you polite enough to offer Lucas a cup of coffee?"
“No," Grandma Mercy snapped. "And I don't intend to."
Mrs. Snyder took down a mug. "That's rude, Mama. And you know his parents," she handed him a mug of steaming coffee. He took a sip, smiling at the elderly woman over the rim.
Rachel grabbed a Diet Coke out of the refrigerator and said, "Ready to go?"
"Go where?" her mom asked.
"They're heading off to Dallas," Grandma Mercy snarled and rolled her eyes. "For God only knows what."
"Grandma, we're adults, stop acting like we're eloping."
"Eloping?" her mom asked with a big smile. "What brought that up? Are you two back together?"
"They were smooching in his pick-up the other night."
Her mom pulled Rachel into an embrace. "How wonderful. At last." She gripped her hands together and nearly cried.
Rachel stepped back, glaring at her grandma. "We're not together. And you shouldn't be peeking out the windows. Like I said, we're adults now, not a couple of teenagers, so stop it."
That said, she marched out the front door. He held up the mug and Mrs. Snyder motioned for him to take it with him as he followed Rachel out the door.
"You better behave yourself, young man. I don't give a damn how old you are or how big that badge is on your chest," Grandma Mercy warned him.
Shaking his head, he could just hear Mrs. Snyder groan in the distance.
Outside, he opened the car door for Rachel then went around and slid onto the driver's seat. He looked at her and smiled. "Well, good morning. What a lively debate so early."
"Had you waited in the car, all of that could have been avoided."
"What fun would that be?" He took a sip of coffee than put it in the cup holder in the console. "Damn, your grandma gets mad so easily."
"You tend to do that to people," she smiled at him, saccharine sweet.
He put his arm across the back of the seat and moved close enough that their noses almost touched. "Not always. Seeing that dock brought back a lot of memories."
She shoved him away, playfully. "Behave."
"Or what?"
"I won't go," she jutted her chin in the air.
“Stubborn,” he smirked, settling on his side of the cruiser. He wanted to spend the day with her no matter what it took to pull it off.
They hit Main Street on their way to the freeway when the Mayor pulled up beside him, stopped in the middle of the street, got out, and came up to the side of the vehicle.
"Sheriff, you must do something." He leaned down closer, noticed Rachel and said hi.
"What's wrong?"
"Grandma Hope. President Burke came to my house before breakfast this morning. He has a bruise on the side of his head the size of a cantaloupe." He put his fingers together to form a small ball as an example. "He said she plain out attacked him."
"I was there. I told her to stop."
"She nearly killed him."
"We all know she just gets overly excited. It's best if you just leave her alone."
"I won't allow her to go around swinging that purse at people."
"You going to tell her?"
Mayor Tate jumped back like Lucas had struck him. He pressed his hands to his chest. "Me?" he shouted. "Why in God's name would I do that? She's liable to hit me as well." He pointed to Lucas. "You do it. That's what you get paid to do."
"To keep an eighty-five-year old woman in line?"
"I can tell you right now, she was just as mean and ornery at twenty-five. Now make her stop."
"I'll look into it when I get back from Dallas."
"Why are you going to Dallas?"
"I'm meeting with the FBI."
"Is something wrong?" He leaned down again and looked at Rachel. "It's not over the bank embezzlement, is it? I don't want you stirring up nothing, you hear?"
"I'll be back this afternoon," he said, then checked his rearview mirror. "We better go, we're blocking traffic."
* * *
"Why doesn't anyone want you checking into what happened at the bank?" Rachel asked, once they were moving again.
"No one wants to relive that. You must know how difficult it was for everyone, to have one of the town's favorite citizens arrested and convicted. Lots of heartburn over it still."
"Who was on my dad's side? Very few that I remember."
He glanced at her. "Most of the town, actually, the Reverend especially. We thought he might bring down the wrath of God on all the jurors. O
n the courthouse steps, he called the President of the bank a liar."
"I didn't see any of that. I only saw the pain inflicted on my family. The way people looked at us? I thought it would kill Grandma. She considers Dad her own son."
"It was really a tough time. No one knew what to say to you. That’s probably why they tended to stay away. Nothing like it since."
She leaned back her head and took a deep breath, considering his words. "You might be right. Though there were some really nasty people, that’s for sure.”
“Yeah, there were,” he agreed, sadly.
After a moment of silence, she cleared her throat, and admitted, “I laid awake almost all night, last night."
He chuckled. "Join the club."
"No, I mean, I kept thinking about what Nancy said. If the money wasn't in the bank, how did my dad end up in prison?"
"As I understand it, most of the evidence was on paper with an account in your dad's name in the Cayman Islands."
"Is that money still there?"
He looked at her briefly, "I don't know."
"Because you do know that my dad can't get to it, right?"
"Of course, I know that. I'm just trying to figure out how we find out the truth."
"Maybe the FBI?"
He pulled onto the freeway that would take them to Dallas. Traffic was light, and the motorists fast. Usually people slowed down when they saw a cop car. Not in Texas. Wild and reckless was the only speed they knew.
"I'll check with them, but again, don't get your hopes up." He was quiet for a while, thinking. "I don't know if it will pan out or anything, but during the trial there was this FBI guy, Billy Baldwin. He was a young kid like me. Right out of the academy. We talked quite a bit. Maybe I can get him to help. He’ll be my escort today."
"Do you think he has some answers we're looking for?"
"I don't know, but he might be able to unlock a few doors for us. The Feds keep things close to the chest. This guy just might understand our situation."
She took a sip from her can of diet drink. "Given the opportunity, what exactly would we ask for?"
"I don't know, but give me an inch and I'll take the whole ruler."