Texas Forever

by Janet Dailey

  “No!” Erin stared at her. “He said he was there! Why would he lie when he knew it would be checked?”

  “You tell me,” Pearl said. “I called the TV station. The first news about the crime came on at one o’clock that day. If we can place Luke in Plainview at the time of that broadcast, he’s in the clear. If not, he’s in trouble.”

  Erin shook her head in disbelief. “Something’s wrong. Could the police have gone to the wrong diner?”

  “There’s only one. It’s called Sam and Edna’s and it’s not a chain. There’s a water tower behind the parking lot. The Plainview police confirmed the name and the exit number. There was no mistake.”

  “No surveillance cameras?”

  “One. But it was broken weeks ago and never fixed.”

  “Something else, then.” A black cat jumped onto Erin’s lap. She stroked it absentmindedly, her thoughts churning. A mistake had been made—but how? The answer could literally mean the difference between life and death for Luke.

  “What about the time?” she said. “Luke was there at one o’clock—maybe a few minutes before, enough time to order. By the time the police got there with his driver’s license it would have been later in the afternoon. What if the shift changed? Different servers and probably different customers . . . ?”

  “Bingo.” Pearl was smiling. “That’s just what I was thinking. That’s why I called the place before you came. The diner is open round the clock. The morning shift is from five o’clock to one.”

  “So someone could’ve seen Luke before the shift change. How do we find out?”

  Pearl rose to her feet, leaning on her cane. “Just one way, honey. I don’t drive anymore. But you do. If we go now, and maybe break a few speed limits, we should be able to make it before the shift change. Are you with me?”

  Erin dumped the black cat off her lap and stood. “We’ll need a picture,” she said.

  “No problem. I’ve got a copy of his mug shot from the jail. Just let me grab my purse and lock up.”

  * * *

  Once they hit the freeway, Erin stomped on the gas pedal. The old station wagon had been well maintained over the years, but it had never been built for speed. She pushed it as hard as she dared. Maybe this trip would turn out to be a waste of time. But the shift change was the only idea that made sense. Anything that could free Luke was worth a try.

  But over the past few days, as she’d grown older and sadder, one thing had become clear. Even if she could save Luke, she couldn’t own him. As Pearl had described him, he was like a caged lion. And there were many kinds of cages. Luke loved her in his way. But he also loved his freedom.

  The drive to Plainview took less than three hours. Pearl chatted most of the way, talking about her years as a prosecutor in Chicago. She’d had some amazing experiences, but Erin was too distracted to listen closely. Her heart drummed in her ears, blurring the sound of Pearl’s voice, as she watched for the Plainview exit sign.

  Her pulse kicked to a gallop as she swung the car onto the off-ramp. Where the road leveled off, she could see the diner on the right, and the water tower behind it. A couple of long-haul semis were parked on the far side. SAM AND EDNA’S. She could see the sign out front as she pulled into a space. The dashboard clock said 12:46.

  Erin helped Pearl out of the car. The peak lunch hour was ending as they came up the sidewalk. A man who looked like a truck driver held the door for them to go in. Erin thanked him.

  The counter, where Luke had claimed to have sat, was empty. Pearl sank onto a stool and fumbled in her red purse for the photo she’d brought.

  The waitress behind the counter, whose name badge read Marge, appeared to be about fifty, with graying hair pulled up into a bun. She looked tired, but still managed a friendly smile. “What can I get you?” she asked.

  “Nothing right now.” Pearl laid Luke’s photos, showing him face-on and in profile, on the counter. “We’re hoping someone here remembers this man. He claims to have been here about this time on Friday.”

  Marge took the photo. “Oh, heavens, yes!” she exclaimed. “How could I forget that face, and those eyes? But these are mug shots. What on earth has he done?”

  “Nothing,” Pearl said. “That’s what I’m here to prove. Can you tell me everything you remember about him?”

  “Let’s see . . . I want to get this right.”

  “Do you mind if I record your statement?” Pearl fished a small, old-style cassette recorder out of her purse. “If what you say can be verified, you’ll be saving a man’s life.”

  “Really? Uh . . . sure.” Marge suddenly looked self-conscious.

  “It’s all right,” Pearl said. “Just say what you remember. I’ll help if you get stuck.” She switched on the machine.

  Marge cleared her throat. “Like I said, he came in just before I got off shift. It was coming up on one o’clock. He sat down at the counter. Handsome man, I remember. The other girls were stealing looks at him, too, sort of giggling. I gave him a menu. He pushed it away. Said to just give him a cup of coffee and a slice of that apple pie in the case behind the counter.”

  “So you did?” Pearl prompted as Erin listened, barely breathing.

  “I did,” Marge said. “I turned away to get his order. When I put the pie and coffee on the counter, he was watching TV. The one o’clock news had just come on. I wasn’t paying attention to it myself. But all of a sudden he put down his cup and stood up. I asked him if everything was all right, but it was like he didn’t hear me. He just took a bill out of his wallet, dropped it on the counter, and walked out. Hardly took two bites of that pie. But here’s the strange part. When I picked up that bill, I saw that it was fifty dollars! Fifty dollars! My stars! I don’t think he even looked at it. That’s why I remember him, even apart from his bein’ such a feast for the eye.”

  Pearl switched off the machine. “Thanks,” she said.

  “Did I do all right?” Marge asked.

  “You did perfect, honey,” Pearl said. “You don’t happen to have that bill, do you?”

  “Why, I just might. When I first found it, I thought sure he’d realize his mistake and come back, or at least call. So I put it in an envelope and stuck it under the tray in the cash register. If nobody’s moved it, it should still be there.” She opened the cash drawer and lifted the tray. “Here it is!”

  Erin had cash in her shoulder bag. She found two twenty-dollar bills and a ten. “Here,” she said, thrusting the cash at Marge. “Keep it for yourself. I know that’s what Luke would want.”

  “Wait,” Pearl said. “I want a picture of you, Marge, with that bill. Then we’ll take it.”

  Pearl snapped a couple of pictures with her phone. Then she took the bill, zipped it into a plastic evidence bag from her purse, and tucked it away.

  “I hope you’ll let me know what happened to that poor man.” Marge picked up her purse, which was stashed below the counter.

  “I promise to let you know,” Erin said. “When this is over, he might even want to come back here and thank you in person.”

  “Well, now, that was time well spent,” Pearl said as Erin helped her into the car. “If nothing else goes wrong, when I present this evidence to the sheriff, we should have your Mr. Maddox cleared and out of jail by morning, if not sooner.”

  Erin slipped into the driver’s seat, started the car, and pulled onto the southbound freeway. “It sounds like wonderful news. But after all the awful things that have happened lately, I know better than to celebrate too soon. Can they get Luke’s fingerprints, or maybe DNA, off that bill?”

  “Not easily, and probably not anytime soon, especially since the bill’s an old one that’s been handled a lot. But just having it will back up Marge’s account. That should be plenty for a solid alibi. Luke couldn’t have killed your father and shown up at that diner in Plainview an hour later. Don’t worry, dear. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  “Yes. Thank you so much, Pearl,” Erin said. But she knew that even w
ith Luke free, everything was far from all right. She would still be dealing with the drought and the bank loan. And the most troubling question of all remained to be answered.

  Who had murdered her father?

  * * *

  “You can go, Maddox.” The sheriff shook his head as he unlocked Luke’s cell. “Your alibi checked out yesterday when a waitress at that diner recognized your photo. The court’s dropped all charges.” He tossed Luke a plastic bag with his clothes and boots inside. “Put these on and toss that jumpsuit in the laundry bin on your way out. The clerk up front will have your wallet, your keys, your phone, and your gun.”

  Groggy and red-eyed after a sleepless night, Luke shoved the hated orange jumpsuit down off his body. Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he was about to wake up to the real nightmare that he was still a prisoner, caged in this damned cell, charged with a murder he hadn’t committed.

  He couldn’t just be free to go. He didn’t have that kind of luck. But before the dream ended, he was going to get as far away from this place as he could.

  Everything was here—shirt, jeans, boots, even the belt they’d taken right away so he wouldn’t hang himself with it. He needed a shave and a shower, but it wasn’t going to happen here. Raking his hair out of his eyes, he tossed the jumpsuit and, with an armed deputy watching, strode up to the window to collect his other possessions. Too bad his rig was at the Rimrock. Otherwise he could just take it and go—get the hell out of Erin’s life. He loved her to the depths of his restless soul. But he was no good for her. He’d already caused her far more pain than she deserved.

  The truth had come to him in the dead of a dark night. Erin was young and bright, with a promising future. She needed to be free to meet the right man and make the right choices. He was older and had already seen too much of the dark side of life. Even if he didn’t end up in prison, he needed to be man enough to walk away before he ruined her life.

  Now, from the shadows of the hallway, he could see her. She was standing in a shaft of morning sunlight that fell through the high window of the jail’s reception area. Dressed in jeans and an old denim jacket with the sleeves cut out, she looked like an angel, her golden hair framing her face like a halo.

  As he walked into the light, she saw him. A little cry escaped her lips. She flung herself toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Despite his best intentions, Luke couldn’t have kept her back if he’d wanted to. He held her close, letting her kisses flood him with the joy of being with her and being free.

  As their embrace broke, he realized they weren’t alone. Several people, all strangers, were seated in the row of chairs that lined the wall. The ones he could see looked as if they were trying not to smile.

  “Erin, we’ve got an audience,” he murmured.

  “I know.” She was beaming with happiness. “We don’t have to hide anymore, Luke. I don’t care if the whole world knows I love you!”

  He stifled a groan. Leaving this passionate, vulnerable woman was going to be the most painful thing he’d ever done. But right now his gear and his rig were all back at the ranch, and she was his ride. He would find a way later.

  “Let’s go,” he said, guiding her toward the door. “We can talk on the way.”

  “Fine. I’ll drive.” She let him open the car door for her and waited while he went around to the other side. He could tell her on the way home that he was leaving, and explain the reasons why if she’d let him. Then there’d be nothing to do at the ranch except maybe clean up, collect his things, and go. Erin would be angry and hurt, but someday she’d be grateful that he’d left.

  As he settled into the passenger seat, she handed him a sealed envelope. “This arrived for you yesterday,” she said. “I brought it because I thought it might be important.”

  Luke turned the envelope over. It bore the name and return address of the care facility where his grandmother was staying. Had he forgotten to send them the monthly check? He could’ve sworn he’d mailed it on the first of the month, before all the craziness at the Rimrock.

  While Erin drove, he ran his thumb under the sealed flap of the envelope and drew out the single-page letter, unfolded it, and read the terse, typewritten message.

  Dear Mr. Maddox:

  We regret to inform you that your grandmother, Mrs. Edith Webster, passed away peacefully on August 13 of this year. An attempt was made to notify you by phone, but since we were unable to reach you, in accordance with her wishes, her earthly remains were cremated two days later. . . .

  There was more, including a statement of how much he owed them for the remainder of her care and the cremation service. He would read it in more detail later, send a check, and ask them to save the ashes for him.

  “Bad news?” Erin asked as he slipped the letter back into the envelope.

  “My grandmother. She died last week.” Surprisingly, he choked on the words. “She meant a lot to me. I’d planned to go back to Oklahoma and see her after I finished the work at the Rimrock. Now it’s too late. . . .” His eyes blurred with tears. “Damn,” he muttered.

  “I’m so sorry.” She reached over the console and squeezed his hand. “I know how it feels. I’ll always regret that the last words I said to my father were angry ones. Now I can never take them back and tell him how much I loved him.”

  Luke didn’t answer. His throat felt as if a fist had closed around it.

  Her fingers tightened around his hand. “I never want to have that regret again. That’s why I’ll never let you go without telling you I love you—even if I can’t hold on to you, even if you’re planning to leave me for good. Your last memory of me will be telling you that I love you.”

  She was ripping him apart inside. “Erin—”

  “No, listen.” Her eyes were on the road, her expression a sad smile. “I’m a big girl, Luke. I know you’re a man who has to be free. You never promised me you would stay, not even when we were making love. If I wake up some morning and find you gone, I’ll understand, and the memories I keep will be the good ones. There’s only one thing I’ll ever ask of you—and I’m asking now.”

  Luke waited in silence, sensing that what she said would be the key to everything.

  “Just this,” she said. “If you go—or when you go—I want you to promise me that you’ll never come back.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  DINNER THAT EVENING WAS A SMALL CELEBRATION. CARMEN HAD made her specialty—chicken enchiladas and chiles rellenos with refried black beans. Erin had invited Sky, his wife, Lauren, and Luke to join her and Rose for the meal. There was also a place set for Carmen, who would eat with them once the food was served and take some leftovers home to her husband.

  Luke couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, that he’d eaten a meal with cloth napkins and matching china. Sitting quietly while the conversation buzzed around him, he let his gaze linger on each person at the table—Sky, lean, dark, and chiseled, smiling at his stunning, auburn-haired wife; Rose, a wise, graying elf; and Erin, at the head of the table where her father would have sat, sadness lingering in her soft blue eyes. This was the Rimrock family now. And for tonight, at least, he was part of it. For how long? he wondered. Would he go back to being hired help tomorrow? Would he settle into place as Erin’s lover, or would he simply load his gear and leave?

  Erin’s words in the car had thrown him. He’d expected her to make womanly demands on his freedom and pout if he resisted. Instead, with surprising strength, she had left the door wide open. He could stay or he could go. But his decision would be final.

  The longer he waited, the more painful that decision became. He loved Erin and wanted to do what was best for her. His better judgment was telling him to leave before he got in any deeper. But his heart was whispering a very different message. He wanted her, in his arms and in his bed. But was he willing to settle for being her nighttime man? If not, he had some hard choices to make.

  The conversation at the table had turned to the subject of finding Will’s killer. Now that
Luke had been cleared, the sheriff’s investigation would be back to square one.

  “My father would want me to put the past aside and move on,” Erin said. “But how can I? I can’t sleep at night, knowing the person who committed that awful crime is still out there.”

  “What about that woman, Marie?” Rose asked. “She’s already wanted for the murder of that poor young deputy. Isn’t it possible that she shot Will, too?”

  “I’ve thought about that,” Sky said. “But Marie had nothing against Will and nothing to gain by shooting him. And the way he was killed, in broad daylight, that isn’t her style.”

  “That’s pretty much what Abner told Beau,” Erin said. “Roy was killed in a break-in, most likely a robbery. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But my father’s murder was planned. It had to be personal.”

  “Another thing that argues against Marie,” Sky said. “That tractor tire was big and heavy. She couldn’t have moved it without help, or at least access to a truck. Whoever set up that ambush would’ve had a way to get the tire onto the road.”

  “And they’d have known that my father would be coming back that way,” Erin added.

  “Plenty of people would’ve seen Will in town,” Rose said. “The folks at the bank, the ones in the Blue Coyote, and anybody who saw him in passing could have figured out that he’d be going home later.”

  “But they wouldn’t have known he was in town until they saw him.” Erin had put down her fork, her meal forgotten. “The person who ambushed and shot my dad had to plan ahead. Whoever it was would’ve needed to know where Dad was going and when he planned to be back, so they could be ready.”

  “Ay, Dios mío!” Carmen’s fork clattered onto the table. Her face had gone pale. “I forgot until just now. That day, as Mister Will was leaving in his truck, the office phone rang. By the time I got in there to answer it, he’d driven away.”