Michaela didn’t change her mind and wound up wearing a pair of jeans— comfortable, not tight— a white T-shirt, and a caramel-colored fitted jacket with a pair of high-heeled Charles David boots— one of the few extravagant items in her closet that were the same color as the jacket. She went to her jewelry box and took out a pair of diamond ring hoops. They were another extravagance— one her ex-husband had given her. One she simply could not see fit to toss or sell on eBay, and when it came down to it, she’d been the one to pick them out. Plus, the facts were that she’d footed the bill in the long run. Therefore, technically, the expensive earrings were not from Brad at all, but a self-deserving gift from her damn self!
But the night he’d given them to her— Christmas Eve three years ago, had been so romantic, so sweet— a memory that she wished she could forget because it reminded her that somewhere in Brad was a man who she’d thought had loved her.
That was history, and to learn the reality of what her life had been at that time— nothing but a lie— had allowed her to look at herself and others in a different light. One that at this moment she wasn’t too sure she cared for. She’d become calloused, or at least it felt like it, and there was a part of her that longed for the days when life felt and seemed more simple, when she still had dreams of a family, of the kind of love only seen in the movies or written about in books.
She slid the earrings through the holes in her lobes and stood back. She kind of liked the way she looked tonight. She could actually see the resemblance to Faith Hill that others often mentioned to her, and she was pleased she’d chosen to wear her hair down in loose waves rather than drawn back in her usual ponytail.
“Mick, the car is here,” Camden yelled from the other room.
Car. Jeez. Who did this guy think he was, anyway? For goodness sakes, it wasn’t as if they were all the rage in Beverly Hills headed to The Ivy. Sure there were places in Indio that had plenty of its well-to-do class but there weren’t exactly the Lindsay Lohans and Eva Longorias of the world coming to hang out in their local digs. However, that was Camden. Find the flash and run with it. To Camden that obviously meant Kevin Tanner. Michaela would go along with it for the night, because she was determined to find answers. Answers she hoped Camden’s latest flame would supply.
EIGHTEEN
KEVIN TANNER WAITED INSIDE THE CAR AS THE driver opened the door for the women.
“Oh, my, aren’t you dressed to impress,” Camden remarked.
“Well, you know what they say, when in Rome,” Kevin replied.
Michaela bit her tongue. For a moment she felt like rolling on the ground in laughter, even after her bizarre day and the past forty-eight hours.
Kevin was somewhere between forty and fifty; hard to tell, really. There was a chance that the reason he didn’t have any creases in his forehead was because he’d been to see the plastic surgeon. He had light brown hair that he had to have blow-dried, because the only men she knew with hair as perfect as Kevin were either gay or looked like Kevin did— a wannabe Rico Sauvay. That was Michaela’s name for men who thought they had “it,” but didn’t.
This Mr. Sauvay had “dressed” for the occasion in a western-style maroon shirt with a small navy flower print and oyster-colored snap buttons, tight Wrangler jeans, and what Michaela figured had to be real alligator boots stained the same maroon as his shirt. Yep, if there ever was a cowboy pimp, she was looking right at him. He even had a gigantic silver belt buckle attached to his belt. John Wayne had to be rolling over in his grave. Tonight might actually turn out to be fun. If they did wind up going to Boots and Boogie, the real good old boys there might not welcome Kevin with open arms. In fact, it was quite possible that the contractor would be out on his painted-on Wrangler ass before the night was through.
That thought made Michaela smile. “Yes, exactly, Kevin. When in Rome.”
“I knew this was going to be fun!” Camden squealed.
Kevin shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. Probably wishing he were in his suit slacks rather than a pair of jeans that appeared to be cutting off any circulation from the waist down. Goodness, what was Camden thinking?
Uh-oh, was Michaela doing it again? Were her reasons for not liking the partners her closest friends chose more about herself than Kevin or Summer? Then she watched as Kevin put his arm around Camden, gold rings with ruby jewels on two of his fingers and a diamond one on his pinky. Hmmm, in this case, she was pretty sure it had nothing to do with her wanting to control her friend and who she dated, but instead wanting to protect her friend, who actually didn’t look like she wanted any protecting from the lech.
It didn’t take long before they made it to the restaurant.
“I hear this place is great,” Camden said as they pulled into the parking lot. “It got five stars in the paper. The chef comes from Guadalajara so it’s not like real Mexican food.”
“Excuse me?” Michaela said. “Last time I looked at an atlas Guadalajara was still located in Mexico.”
Kevin patted Camden’s knee. “That’s why I love this woman. She says the cutest things.”
He had to be kidding. Camden looked at him with these goo-goo eyes that stirred the stomach almost to the point of retching.
“Oh, you two. You know what I mean. It’s not the typical taco and burrito menu. The food is gourmet Mexican. For example, I read that they have a dish where the pork is cooked in banana leaves. Pibil style or something like that. And, it is supposed to be the new hot spot. After we eat we can hang out at the bar and then there are two dance floors. One with pop and that rap stuff, the other a bit more down to earth with a live band. We don’t even need to go over to Boots and Boogie, because this place has it all and is supposed to be all the rage.”
“Fun,” Michaela said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
“Now, come on. We will have a good time tonight. I know there is a fun master inside of you just waiting to come out and play. It’ll be like Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood for grown-ups.”
“You’re a disturbed woman.”
“Yes, I am. But I have to tell you, it’s a blast. Try it for a night, Michaela. Let down that guard of yours and kick up your heels. You just never know what destiny has in store for you.”
“I didn’t know destiny had anything to do with tonight.”
“Destiny has everything to do with everything. Now let’s go have some of that pibil pork or whatever and a Cadillac Margarita.”
For someone who was such a maneater and who always tried to come off as a sophisticate, listening to Camden at that moment reminded her why they were friends. When it came down to it, Camden’s dinginess was endearing and laughable, and she was able to laugh at herself.
“Okay, señoritas. Let’s make it fiesta time.” Kevin laughed. Michaela stepped out of the car. He was still laughing. “Get it? Like Miller Time, only fiesta time.”
“I get it,” Michaela replied, and walked ahead of the couple while she was sure they busied themselves with a game of grab-ass.
Once seated with margaritas at the table, which Michaela planned to nurse through the dinner, she reminded herself of her mission, and talk turned to Uncle Lou.
“Hey, Michaela I am so sorry about your uncle. He was a really good man. I liked him a lot.”
Michaela had just taken a sip of her drink and nearly shot it back out as the lie poured from Kevin’s mouth. She put on her game face. “Yes he was. It’s horrible.”
“Do they have any leads at all as to who murdered him?” Kevin asked.
Camden glanced at him. What kind of look was that? A warning? What was going on between these two that concerned Michaela’s uncle? Or was she being paranoid? “No. At least they haven’t said anything to me about a lead. I don’t know. It’s a bit strange, though, how one of the detectives has been behaving toward me.”
“Really? How is that?” Kevin motioned for another round from the waiter.
Michaela hadn’t taken but two sips. “Well, he was really
nice to me right after I found my uncle.”
“He better have been,” Camden cut in.
“Then he came over that evening to question me further, and again he was gracious, understanding, and he listened without what I assumed was any judgment.”
“Is this that cute detective?” Camden asked and smacked her lips together. “Sooo divine.” Kevin shot her a nasty look. “Oh, but so not you.”
That was true. Kevin Tanner was certainly no Detective Jude Davis. Not by a long shot. No doubt, the detective had never even received a traffic fine. Kevin on the other hand . . . well, she was sure he’d dabbled in his share of dirty secrets.
“Let her finish,” Kevin said.
Michaela noted the agitation in his voice. She had him right where she wanted him. She was tossing out the bait. “Yes, it is the same detective. Anyway, earlier today I was working one of the horses and he came by. But he was no longer Mr. Congenial. He’d obviously done his share of interviewing and someone on his list apparently made a suggestion that I was unhappy my ex left me, and I could have blamed my uncle for it.”
Kevin took a long pull from his drink. “That’s ridiculous!” Camden exclaimed.
“That’s what I told him. He made some further insinuations about it until I asked him to leave. I was pretty uncomfortable with the direction in which things were going.”
“No doubt,” Kevin said. “You don’t think someone is setting you up to take the fall? I mean, God knows you would have never harmed your uncle.”
“That’s a good question, Kev. What do you think? I do suppose it’s entirely possible. I heard or read somewhere that the first twenty-four hours of a murder investigation are the ones that yield the most important facts. So, maybe someone decided to divert the detective’s attention by exaggerating my circumstances and embellishing quite a bit.”
Kevin nodded. “That’s too bad. It could be that. But I am sure the police will find out who did this and justice will be served for Lou.”
Michaela took a sip from her margarita as the waiter set down their food. She wasn’t terribly hungry. The talk had dulled any hunger she might have felt earlier. It still felt wrong to take pleasure in anything, even simple pleasures like good food. Setting her drink down and thanking the waiter, she turned back to Kevin. “I didn’t realize you knew my uncle so well. I was under the impression that the two of you had a rather tense relationship. Isn’t it true that you’d recently made an attempt to purchase his property and even after he told you no, you remained persistent? Apparently you don’t like to take no for an answer.”
Camden set her fork down, her mouth full of pork pibil. She did not appear especially happy. She glared at Michaela, who attempted to smile sweetly. Camden’s eyes narrowed, making her look like a Cheshire cat who’d just shoved a canary in her mouth only to discover that she’d really bitten into a snake. Oh yeah, she was pissed off, but Michaela knew she’d get over it, especially if she didn’t have anything to do with killing her uncle, which she hoped was true. But this Kevin jerk, she had a feeling in her gut, was responsible in some way for her uncle Lou’s murder.
Kevin let out a halfhearted laugh. “Don’t be silly. That is crazy talk.”
“Is it?” Michaela asked.
“Of course. I had nothing but respect for your uncle. Sure, I would have loved to acquire his land. After all, he owned some prime property. A resort hotel and golf course would be great and do a lot to help boost the local economy. But I understood Lou’s position. He’d owned that land for years and loved it. I don’t think he needed it all, but that was not my business.”
“No, it wasn’t, but you still persisted, didn’t you? And, now that my uncle is gone, it might be easier for you to buy property from a grieving widow.”
“Michaela, that is enough,” Camden said. “Kevin is a businessman. He wouldn’t harm anyone. Please stop. We came out to have a good time. Okay?”
Kevin shook his head. “No. It’s okay. I understand. I do. You’re sad and probably feel miserable, and I can’t blame you for lashing out. You’ve been through hell. I’m sorry if I ever made Lou uncomfortable, or you for that matter. He was a good man. I’m sorry for your loss. I did respect him, and I don’t take no easily. I wish I had. Please accept my apologies.”
Michaela studied him. He did seem sincere. Strange. Really strange turn of events. How to handle this one? “Then you don’t plan on pressuring his wife Cynthia to see if she has an interest in selling to you?”
He shook his head. “Uh, no. I’ve come across some other property that will work as well, if not better.”
Oh yes, he had, hadn’t he? Suddenly that act of sincerity he’d expressed became just that—an act. “You have, haven’t you? The old dairy farm, right behind my place.”
Kevin didn’t reply right away. He took another drink. Camden looked at him. “That’s correct. I did acquire that piece of property recently.”
“I can’t wait to have condos or a golf course right behind my property.”
“Maybe you won’t have to. I’m willing to make you a very nice offer for your place and that way any condos I might build behind your land won’t offend you.”
Michaela pressed her back into the booth. How did Camden not see this guy’s transparency? “You want to purchase my property?” she asked, amused.
Kevin nodded. “I’m willing to pay you full market value for it, and it’s my understanding that you could use the cash.”
Michaela shot Camden a dirty look. Was Camden telling this jerk that Michaela was having financial problems? Camden tried to smile, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Excuse me?” Michaela raised a brow. “I’m fine, and I’m not interested in selling.”
“Fair enough. Can’t hurt to ask,” Kevin replied.
Michaela knew that this was far from over. Her gut nagged her. Kevin was like a fox that would lie in wait. She’d been married to one, and she’d learned to recognize the traits. What really disturbed her was that she couldn’t help wondering if this guy hadn’t been using Camden all along to get to her.
“It never hurts to ask. And, you did, and she said, ‘No,’ so, let’s see if we can’t lighten the subject around here. Please,” Camden said, fidgeting nervously with her hands.
“Sure,” Michaela said. For the remainder of their dinner, she tried to stay as involved as she could about topics as simple as the weather to as complicated as politics in the Middle East, but her mind kept wandering back to Kevin Tanner’s proposition and the fact that the man had a horse on his newly acquired property hours ago. She wanted to question him further and see if he could answer her question as to where the horse had disappeared to, but decided for now to wait for another opening. She also couldn’t forget the conversation she’d overheard between Camden and Kevin just the night before. Were they two simply fantastic liars with a huge secret to hide?
As they finished dinner and moved over to the bar and club, Michaela had a thought. “So, Kevin, have you ever ridden or owned a horse before?”
He nodded. “Sure. My first wife owned Arabians. Pretty horses to look at, but gawd, what a pain in the ass. High strung.”
“Maybe. I’m not completely convinced. Sure they can be a bit more squirrelly than some of the other breeds, but I was out at the Scottsdale Arabian Show a few years ago to watch the stock horses and I was impressed. They’re beautiful and agile. I actually wouldn’t mind having one of my own. So, you don’t have a horse now?”
“No. I like to look at them, but riding is not for me.”
“Huh. Did you know that there’s a horse been taking up house in your old dairy barn?”
“What?”
Camden shifted in the booth. “Yeah. My stud, Rocky, got loose today and he charged right over to your place. He apparently found himself a girlfriend. There was a mare there. In a stall, flirting with him.”
Kevin shook his head. “That’s impossible. I was over there two days ago and there was nothing there
. Nothing but a bunch of cobwebs and rotted wood. I don’t know if you’re playing a game with me, but it’s making you look a bit foolish.”
“Me? Playing a game? Tell him, Camden: There was a mare there earlier today and then when I went back, she was gone.” Camden didn’t say anything. “Camden, are you going to back me up on this?”
“Technically, I didn’t see a horse. You told me there was a horse there.”
“I don’t believe this.” Michaela stood and put her hands on her hips. “Someone is playing games here, but it isn’t me.” She started to leave.
Camden caught up to her as Michaela walked toward the bar. “I’m sorry, hon, but I didn’t see a horse.” Michaela kept walking. “I think you’re tired and angry and—”
“And what? You think I’m losing it? That I didn’t see a horse in Kevin’s barn?”
“No. That’s not what I’m saying.”
Michaela stopped and faced her. “Really? Then, why didn’t you defend me back there?”
“I’m sorry. I’ll go tell him right now that I believe you. I do believe you.”
“You can tell him whatever you want, but I know what I saw and I also think Kevin Tanner is hiding something. And, I think he’s making a fool of you.”
Camden looked like she’d been punched. “What?”
“I think the man is playing you to get to me so he can buy me out.”
“I don’t . . . think that’s true.” Camden stuttered on her words. “I think he . . . really likes me. Men do like me.”
“Yes they do. They certainly do. But not always for the right reasons. I think that men tend to play you, Camden.” Michaela walked away from her friend, leaving Camden stunned and hurt— her own stomach sank as despair blanketed her heart.
NINETEEN
Saddled With Trouble Page 12