Merry Christmas, Cowboy

by Janet Dailey

  “They managed it somehow. Both of them appeared in photos on your grandmother’s camera. Not that she was trying to take pictures of them. They were just in the background.”

  Brandon shrugged. “They paid. I couldn’t stop them. That was awhile ago.”

  “I know.” Paula wasn’t done. She remembered him huddled in the doorway the night she and Zach had found him. “There’s something else. Did you . . . Were they harassing you or bullying you?”

  “Sort of. Sometimes. That’s what they do. I’m not the only one they pick on. Basically, I dodged them.” He shot a sideways look at her. “That night you and Zach came upstairs? I was trying to stay away from them.”

  She and Zach had put him in harm’s way by making him go back to the door. As if the kid wasn’t mixed up enough already. She felt a pang of regret.

  “Why didn’t you tell us what was going on?”

  “You guys have enough to do. I felt like they came around because I was there.”

  “There’s probably some truth in that,” Paula said. “But you weren’t to blame.”

  “Yeah. Maybe not. I went out once I saw they were gone. I was just standing there and they drove by, acting like idiots.” He paused, remembering. “I do have a friend in that building where you found me. He wasn’t home.”

  His exhaustion was plain. Paula felt bad asking him questions.

  “Otis and those other kids followed me. You and Zach followed me. It was just weird. That’s why I was snotty to you about it.”

  It wasn’t an apology, but at least it was an explanation.

  “I didn’t take it too seriously,” she said. Brandon gave her a sullen look. “You probably think I deal drugs or something.”

  Paula shook her head. “No. I mean, they were high but you didn’t seem to be.”

  Brandon studied her as if he were about to share something. He hesitated, then said, “There has to be a reason you thought I could do something like boost a safe.”

  “I never thought you stole the safe.” Paula chose her next words carefully. “But there was something else. Before the safe got stolen, Norville came up short when the money was counted. It turned out to be no big deal—the difference was forty bucks and change.”

  “But I built the box. So, like, you thought I did that to steal?” Brandon sat up. “Some friend you are.”

  She was on the spot. “I’ll be honest. I did think that for about five seconds. We went shopping for your grandma’s Christmas present and you had all that cash. I’m a cop. I can’t help it. Come on, Brandon. Cut me some slack here. You have been in trouble.”

  He just stared at her, a dull look in his eyes.

  “Yeah. Not for anything like that.”

  “I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

  Brandon hung his head. “Like hell. But bring it on. That can’t be all.”

  “You texted Zach the night the safe was stolen. Whoever did it knew he wasn’t there. Where were you?”

  “At home. I came in after Gram went out to that dumb party. I left before the time I figured she’d come back.”

  The time frame didn’t quite fit. He’d tried to reach Zach late at night, later than that. “Was there anyone with you?”

  “No.”

  He didn’t have an alibi. But Paula felt he was telling the truth. Every cop knew that the truth never was carved in stone and details were never perfectly consistent.

  Brandon got up. “No matter what I say, you don’t really believe me. Screw this. Screw you.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that.”

  “Screw everything.” He reached the door before she could scramble to her feet. “I’m going to see Gram.”

  Chapter 21

  Zach came down the stairs in time to see Brandon slam out the door.

  “Don’t go after him,” Paula said.

  He stopped by the front table and turned to her with a look of pure exasperation. “What the hell did you think you were doing? That comment about where he got the money was totally out of line.”

  Paula was taken aback. “You were listening?”

  “Touch one key. Every room is visible from every other room.”

  Her laptop security system. He hadn’t sounded too impressed with it a week ago. Evidently he knew how to use it now and had obviously added a downloaded app to record sound. “Thanks for snooping.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Paula.”

  “Oh yes, it does,” she snapped.

  He walked toward her, fiery blue anger in his eyes. Paula stood her ground.

  “I can tell you where he got the money for Edith’s present. Brandon asked me about part-time work after school and I sent him to Jake. That kid hauled lumber and pulled nails at a construction site for two days. He worked like a dog. Jake paid him off the books in cash.”

  “So why didn’t he tell me?”

  “Because he’s underage and couldn’t get a work permit for a job like that,” Zach answered in a growl. “So he broke the goddamn law and so did Jake and I guess you could say I was an accessory.”

  “He could have asked me if he needed money. I was ready to help him pay for his grandma’s present.”

  “The kid has pride. He wanted to buy you a present too. I helped him shop for it. He swore me to secrecy.”

  Paula stepped back. “Oh.”

  “He thinks you walk on water.”

  “Could have fooled me,” she said.

  “Don’t know how you missed it. I felt the same way watching you in action. Never knew a woman who could get so much done and look so damn good doing it. However, he thought of you like a big sister.”

  She barely heard what he was saying until the last bit. Paula began to pace, rubbing her arms. “I don’t understand why he wasn’t more open.”

  “He’s fifteen. He’s male. He’s confused. He doesn’t know the difference between bad company and good friends.”

  What she had done was beginning to sink in.

  “I blew it,” she said after a while.

  “Don’t blame that on me,” Zach said. His irate tone softened. “Look, he didn’t steal anything, and he will get over the fact that you thought he did for—what did you tell him?”

  “Five seconds.”

  “Yeah. And if there were other things he did do, they weren’t that bad and they’re in the past. Go chase real crooks.”

  “I don’t know how I ever got along without your good advice.”

  “It won’t kill you. You don’t know everything.”

  “No, I don’t and that’s the problem. Where were you really the other night?”

  “I told you—with Jake. You just don’t trust other people, do you, Paula?”

  “You heard what I said to Brandon. I’m a cop. Trust doesn’t come easy. Especially when the man I’m dating carries a picture of another girl in his wallet.”

  Zach reached into his pocket and withdrew the wallet. He flipped it open to reveal the snapshot. “This girl?”

  Paula cringed. She was about to feel like a fool. She knew it.

  “That’s my sister, Annie. I told you about her.”

  The ringing of Paula’s phone saved her from having to respond. She grabbed it. “I have to take this. Don’t go away.” She stepped into the front entryway. “Hello.”

  Zach turned around. He sat on the stairs, elbows resting on his knees and his big hands loosely clasped. Paula mostly listened, watching him. “You going after him?” she asked the caller.

  Zach looked up. She shook her head and mouthed, Not Brandon.

  “All right. Keep me posted.”

  Paula slung the phone into her bag and walked back to Zach. “Move over.”

  “Why?”

  “You once told me that the stairs were a good place to talk. Now more than ever,” she said.

  He scooted to the left and she took the remaining space.

  “Who was that?” Zach asked.

  “A detective. They found Otis’s car. They’re staking it out in unmarkeds and
waiting for him to show up.”

  “And then?”

  “They obtained a search warrant. But they can’t arrest him. Let’s see what happens.”

  “Nothing else to do,” Zach muttered.

  “Do you think we should try and find Brandon?”

  Zach blew out a frustrated sigh. “Lord, girl, you are not his mother. Just leave him be. He didn’t say he was hitchhiking to China. He said he was going to visit his grandmother in the hospital. You need to start believing in the people who care about you.”

  “I get the point.”

  They sat in silence for a while. “What was that you said about me walking on water?”

  “Figure of speech. Forget it. I take it back anyway.”

  Paula turned her head to admire his chiseled profile. The ruggedness came out when he set his jaw like that. Zach may have been mad at her, but he was right about a lot of things. So long as she didn’t have to admit that in so many words, she could deal with his temporary disapproval.

  “Could I get a do-over?” she asked suddenly.

  Zach gave her a wry look. “Starting from when?”

  “The kiss before last. When everything was perfect.”

  “It never was,” he said. His gaze moved over her.

  Paula met his eyes. Brown versus blue. Neither blinked.

  “It came damn close,” she said. “For four weeks, we did all right. Maybe it’s only been three. You and I agree more than we disagree. And I think we have something here. Beyond the physical.”

  “What makes you bring that up?”

  “I loved it,” she said bluntly. “So did you.”

  “Not giving up, are you?”

  Paula shook her head. “I believe you, Zach.”

  “All right, then,” he said, smiling. “Do-over it is. Let’s start right now.”

  Her phone rang again.

  “Don’t answer that damn thing,” he said.

  Paula ignored him and got up to take the call.

  “Seriously? In the trunk?” Zach heard her say.

  She stayed on the phone for a long time. He got up and went into the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of them. He slid the scrambled eggs and browned sausage onto a single platter and added a couple of Christmas cookies. When he came back out, cutlery for two in one hand and the platter in the other, she was still on the phone.

  Zach sat down on the stairs and began to eat. Paula eyed him hungrily. “Listen, gotta go,” she said. “Call you right back, okay?”

  “I’m starved,” she said to Zach.

  “More than enough for two.” He passed her the platter and took a cookie en route. “Who was that?”

  “Detective Robson. They nabbed Otis and made him open the trunk. Guess what was inside.”

  “The safe,” Zach said.

  “You’re no fun.”

  “Was the money in it?” Zach asked.

  “Otis told them he couldn’t figure out the combination. Like that would save him from a grand larceny rap.”

  “How’s that again?”

  “By his reasoning, he only stole the safe. He wasn’t able to steal the money.”

  “Yeah.” Zach reached over for another forkful of sausage. “Stupid and greedy go together. But you did good. I’m proud of you. What happens next?”

  “He stays behind bars until trial or gets sprung on the way there. Same goes for the other kid, basically.”

  “How?” Zach asked.

  “They can plea bargain, post bail, decide to become informants, get a judge to invalidate the arrest—there are lots of ways to get out of jail.”

  Zach took the empty platter when she handed it to him and set it aside. “Mmm. That was good,” Paula said.

  “Could you take yourself off the case?”

  “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Were you officially assigned to it?” Zach asked.

  “No. But I have a personal interest in the Christmas House.”

  “Think about your safety, Paula. Otis doesn’t know your face or anything about you. Walk away. Let Detective Robson get the glory.”

  “That would serve him right,” she mused.

  “I’m serious, Paula.”

  “Zach, being a cop is my job. And I love it . . . well, not as much as I used to love it.”

  “I’m not saying quit. Just this one case. I want those punks out of your life and Brandon’s and Edith’s, and I don’t want them around the Christmas House ever again. You didn’t make this arrest, Paula. Walk away from it.”

  “But—”

  “Just let those two sing carols with the Orange Jumpsuit Choir and forget about Otis’s case at least. Please. Christmas is coming. I want to spend every minute of it with you.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t look so scared,” he said irritably. “Figure of speech.”

  Paula smiled. “Don’t take it back.”

  Chapter 22

  Brandon entered the hospital and signed in at the lobby desk for a visitor’s pass. He passed the gift shop. That was taken care of. He had the one he’d chosen in his pocket.

  He waited for the elevators with some other people, getting on when they did and watching the numbers change as the car went up. He got off at Cardiac Care and followed the wall signs to her room.

  Just outside, Brandon paused. A young nurse looked up at him from the monitor at her station.

  “Is Mrs. Clayborne in there?” he asked. “I’m her grandson.”

  “Yes. You must be Brandon. She told me you were coming. She wanted to get herself fixed up first. She’s ready and waiting. Go on in.”

  Brandon smiled at her. He stepped forward and knocked at the door, which was ajar.

  “Gram?”

  His grandmother was sitting up in a reclining bed, her hair in a semblance of a style and makeup on. The hospital gown concealed the wires to some degree, but the thin tube in her nose made him pause.

  “Yes, honey. Don’t mind how I look. Come here. Oh, my word. You are a sight for sore eyes. Where the hell have you been? Why didn’t you call? Would you like some of this juice? You must be thirsty. I don’t know what to do with you sometimes, Brandon Clayborne. You worry me half to death.”

  The torrent of words subsided when he leaned over and put his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

  Edith made the most of the hug. She let go of him eventually. “Reach me a tissue from the box,” she said in a watery voice.

  Brandon gave her a handful. She blew her nose on one and wiped at her running eye makeup with another.

  “You don’t know and you never will know how good it is to see you,” she began. “Don’t you ever stay away from home that long again. Or I will open up a can of whoop-ass and you won’t sit down until you’re my age.”

  “I came back sometimes,” he said, sitting on the bed beside her.

  “I thought you did. I noticed that some of the mess in your room got moved around now and then.”

  “You should be a detective, Gram.”

  “Let’s leave that to Paula. So are you coming home for Christmas? And staying home?”

  “Yeah. When do you get out?”

  “Just in time.”

  Brandon nodded. “I want to give you an early present. You have to open it right now.”

  Edith brightened. “Now you’re talking.”

  Brandon looked at her curiously. “What are you on, Gram?”

  “Supplemental oxygen. It does a body good.”

  He shook his head in a silent laugh and reached into his pocket for his present. “Here you go. With all my love.”

  “Oh, my. What pretty wrapping paper.”

  “Please. Don’t save it, Gram.”

  “But it’s my favorite color. Now what could be in this little box?”

  She lifted out the turtle pendant set in silver and let it swing on the chain. “Oh, Brandon! It’s wonderful! Is it hand carved?”

  “Yeah. Native American. I picked it out myself.” He
grinned with pride. “Put it on.”

  “But then I can’t see it,” she protested.

  “I want you to wear it, Gram. It’s a symbol of long life and . . . something else. I forget what the lady said.” Brandon thought. “Patience. That was it.”

  “Lord grant me both,” Edith said. She clasped her hands and looked mischievously at her grandson. “And send down a double helping of the second thing.”

  “Aw, Gram.” Brandon hugged her again. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

  Chapter 23

  Paula and Zach had driven out to the truck stop to take care of some unfinished business. The snowy landscape outside made the no-frills interior seem even more cozy.

  “You sure the food here is good?” she said, looking at the menu. The prices were rock bottom. “Everything is fried. Even the pie is fried.”

  “My dad is a skinny guy. He eats here all the time.”

  They were meeting Tyrell Bennett midway between Denver and Velde to pick up a bale of hay for a Nativity scene, the final theme room of the Christmas House.

  The cook, a heavyset man in a permanently stained apron, trudged out from the kitchen.

  “Heard you were here,” he boomed at Zach. “So you’re Tyrell’s younger boy.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The cook put a hand on his chin and looked thoughtfully at Zach. “You don’t resemble him.”

  Zach shrugged good-humoredly. “My dad is one of a kind.”

  Paula smiled at the chunky cook. She couldn’t think of anything to add to the conversation.

  “Now who’s this young lady?” the cook asked.

  “This is Paula. She’s a Denver police officer.”

  “Oh, she’s the one that kid in the kitchen mentioned. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Officer. You didn’t tell me her last name,” he said accusingly to Zach.

  “That could be changing.”

  “Shut up,” she muttered, blushing.

  “So how is Brandon doing in the kitchen?” Zach asked.

  “He’s a natural with a peeler. We’re moving him up from apples and carrots to onions soon’s he learns to handle a knife. We had him on dishwashing for awhile. He didn’t do too good.”

  Paula smiled to herself. She could have told the cook that.