by Various
“You don’t say.” His voice cut like dry ice.
“She still around?”
Mabel knew she was. The whole town knew. She was just fishing for more details, so she could feed the gossip mill.
“What’d you tell ’em?”
“That I never seen nobody like her in my café.”
“Thanks.”
“Bad-looking pair, if you ask me. Slick and mean. Both of them have snakes’ eyes. What’d she do—kill somebody? She’s on the run, that’s for sure. You’d better be careful.”
He thought about his dead, mutilated cattle. Xavier was after him. But who the hell was after her?
“What did they look like?”
“One’s dark, and the other is sick and pasty-faced-looking. Oh, and he wears glasses. And they both have cruel, black eyes.”
“Their eyes obviously made an impression.”
She lifted a brow. “Y’all be careful out there, you here— If I were you, I’d strap on a gun when I left the house—”
“Thanks.”
Phillip finished the last of his coffee. Then he gave her a big smile and a tip that made her smile even bigger. Not that Phillip was smiling when he climbed in his truck.
What’d she do—kill somebody?
Phillip remembered Mendoza sailing off that jungle mountain road. Phillip knew what he’d done, but what the hell had she done?
Instead of going to the feed store as he’d planned, he stepped on the gas and rushed home to make sure Celeste was okay. It didn’t take a genius to figure out those jerks had to be the reason she’d left Vegas. Phillip remembered Johnny Silver’s frightened voice. The guy had panted between every word. He was up to his eyeballs in whatever this was, too. She said she wasn’t involved with Silver, but she was.
She’d lied.
Why?
Damn it. She had to tell him what was going on—now. Today. Period.
But he never had the chance to ask her what had gone down in Vegas because when he roared up to the porch, she ran out of his house in blood-splattered clothes. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she hurled herself into his arms before he could even climb the first stair.
“A-another cow,” she gasped brokenly. “Only whoever it was chopped the cow in several pieces in the corral. I—I tripped over…over a leg before I saw…Then I slipped in a pool of blood. Oh, it’s all too awful… I—I found this—” She was holding a bloody piece of crumpled paper.
He ripped it out of her trembling hand.
“Oh, Phillip— The…the note’s like the others.”
He read it out loud. “‘You hurt my family, so now I will hurt yours.’”
Celeste shuddered against him. She was so small and petite, so defenseless, really.
Snakes’ eyes…? Mabel had said. What’d she do—kill somebody?
He pressed her closer. He didn’t care what she’d done. If anybody so much as laid a finger on one shiny, golden hair, he’d kill them as coldly and as ruthlessly as he’d run Mendoza off the road.
“Oh, Phillip, I—I thought you were never coming home. I called your cell—”
“It’s okay,” he whispered, stroking her hair as she shuddered against his chest. “Hey, hey. I was in a no-service area for a while, that’s all.”
“Does this have something to do with that El Jefe terrorist group?”
“Don’t you worry about it. I’ll handle it.”
He’d better. And fast.
“But…but… I—I’m so afraid…. I don’t like the thought of people sneaking around here doing… Why anybody… They could do anything. When I’m here alone….”
Phillip forgot all about the two sleazes in town. His only concern was for her. He had to call Wainwright and Cole Yardley, but that could wait.
“Nobody’s going to hurt you,” he said gently. “Nobody. Not ever. Because I won’t let them.
Understand?”
“But what if they come and you aren’t here?”
“I’ll be here from now on until this blows over. Juan can do most of the errands. I can write lists. He can shop. My credit’s good in town.”
“Oh, Phillip,” she breathed, hugging him closer. “It’s you I’m worried about. I called Ricky Mercado and he told me everything that happened in Mezcaya. He told me all about that man you killed and how his son is after you—”
“That bastard.”
“Ricky—”
“Oh, so now it’s Ricky—”
“He’s your friend. He doesn’t want you to die anymore than I do, and I don’t want El Jefe’s men to kill you. I couldn’t live if anything happened to you.”
“I feel the same way about you. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. That’s why I asked you to marry me.” He waited until her racking sobs subsided and she stood still against him.
“It’s going to be okay. I swear I’ll find out what’s going on.”
“And you’re going to tell the sheriff. You’re not going to act like you’re so big and tough you won’t call the law. You’re going to tell him about the cows, about all three cows.”
“I’ll call him first thing. As soon as you’re calm. Shh. Shh…” He stroked her back and her neck and then threaded his fingers into her hair.
When she quieted, he took her hand and led her inside the house. Then he picked up the phone.
“Sheriff…”
She sighed with obvious relief. But her fear didn’t go away.
He called Yardley.
Her eyes grew huge when Phillip hung up and strapped on a gun. She followed him around even when he went out to the pastures.
That night he told her to dress up, that they were going out to dinner.
“What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion. You’ll feel braver somewhere else won’t you?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
Again he took her to dinner and dancing at the Lone Star Country Club. Again she dressed in her flashy red dress. Only tonight they ate in the club’s formal dining room, which was decorated in blue and white, and they had a candlelit corner all to themselves. They held hands. They danced again and again, putting on quite a show for the other diners. When their first course arrived, they returned to their table and talked just like an old married couple who were easy and sure of one another, but beneath their conversation, the atmosphere between them sizzled with excitement. Not to mention fear.
After dessert, which was some sort of cream topped with luscious raspberries that melted in his mouth, he blew out their candles. He slid a hand in his suit pocket and laid a small velvet box in front of her. When she gasped, his big brown hand nudged it toward her.
“Open it, darling.”
“Darling? I think I can guess what it is.” Her voice was so soft and wistful, he had to lean forward to hear her.
Gingerly she flipped the lid a couple of times before he grabbed it and opened it for her. An enormous solitaire sparkled against black velvet, and she cupped her mouth and cried, “Oh!”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s huge. Too huge.”
“I thought you liked flash. So, do you? Do you like it?” He took the sparkling gem out of the box and slid it onto her finger.
She flexed her hand. The gem shot fire.
“I—I can’t believe this—” she began, fighting tears. “Nobody ever gave me…” Then she strangled on her words and the rest of her sentence was an incoherent jumble.
He looked at her, only at her, his heart pounding painfully against his ribs while he waited, his dread mushrooming when she lowered her eyes and couldn’t seem to meet his gaze.
Her lips tightened. Then she began to bite them as if in confusion. Then very slowly she slid his ring off and gently laid it in his palm. Her fingers were shaking convulsively and tears were rolling down her white cheeks.
“Why not?” he rasped.
“I—I don’t know, Phillip. It’s too much…too soon. I
mean…marriage…forever…you…me…Missi
on Creek…and children, too… Those cows…”
“We’ll solve that mystery.”
“But—”
“Where do you see this relationship going?” he demanded, changing the subject.
“I…I… Why can’t we just be?”
“I’d like to be able to count on…our future. Wouldn’t you?”
“You want to plot the rest of our lives all out like a war or something?”
“No. Not like a war. War is hell. What are you running from, Celeste?”
“Nothing. Nobody.”
“Is it just me, then? Me that you don’t really want?”
“Oh, Phillip, how can you even think such—”
“Or does it have something to do with the two guys that are asking questions about you?
What do they have on you?”
“Two guys?” She pushed her chair back and would have raced away in a blind panic if he hadn’t grabbed her wrist. “Who? What guys?”
“A couple of men have been asking about you in town. I would have mentioned them earlier, but we had to deal with the dead cow. Who are they?”
Again she struggled to push her chair back, but his grip on her wrist tightened. “Not so fast.
There’s something else I’m curious about.”
“Let me go, Phillip.”
With his other hand he pulled an envelope out of the inside of his jacket and read the Nashville address out loud. “There’s a tape inside. You’re sending stuff to a producer, Greg Furman, aren’t you? Why couldn’t you tell me?”
“Where did you get that?”
“You still want to be a star, don’t you?”
“Oh? I—I left that in the truck, didn’t I?” Her hands closed around the envelope, and she stared at him with those big, luminous eyes that undid him. “I love you, Phillip. You have to believe me.”
“Then why can’t we have a simple conversation? Why can’t you confide in me?”
“I didn’t think you’d understand.”
“You don’t give me a chance to.”
“You’re so big and tough. A Marine.”
“A retired Marine, Celeste.” He paused. “I’m a human being.”
“Your life is precise and… Me, I—I feel…so torn. My life was a mess when I came here.
Sending the tapes…”
“So there were more of them?”
“I write him letters, beg him to let me audition. I send him songs, too.”
“I see. You can’t wait to get out of here.”
“No. My musical ability drives me. It’s not totally rational. Sending those tapes was something I had to do. I didn’t think you’d want me to.”
“Life isn’t always ‘either or’ you know.”
“It has been for me.”
“For me, too, then…because you think it is. When were you going to tell me about the tapes?”
“Oh…oh… I—I don’t know. Oh, why does everything have to get so complicated? Why are you asking all these questions?”
“Were you just going to walk out on me again?”
“Phillip, I…”
“Don’t say any more.” He slid the ring and the little velvet box into his pocket. “You’ve said way more than enough.”
“But—”
“Let’s just go home and put this evening behind us.”
“But we haven’t settled anything—”
“That’s up to you—”
He waited. Oh, God, how he hoped she’d say more. When she didn’t, he let go of her wrist, and she stood. He slid his hand to the back of her waist and escorted her out of the elegant blue-and-white room and then through the grand lobby lit with ornate chandeliers. Only when they were outside in the dark beneath a full moon and a starless sky and there was no one to see their livid pain, could they relax a little.
“What are we going to do?” she whispered later when he was driving them home in the truck.
“This is your game. We’re playing by your rules. You tell me.”
“But I can’t. I don’t know.”
“Then neither the hell do I.”
She asked him if he wanted her to leave the next morning and he said no.
Over the next few days Wainwright and Yardley made zero progress on their investigation.
The two sleazes from Vegas didn’t turn up, either. So, Phillip and Celeste drifted, and drifting was hard for Phillip who was a natural leader who wanted to command not only battles but his life, as well. All he wanted was for her to talk to him and to answer a few simple questions.
But she wasn’t used to sharing confidences. Maybe she didn’t believe that doing so could bring two people closer. Phillip didn’t know, and he didn’t ask her. They slept together, but his proposal and his questions had erected an invisible barrier, so sex wasn’t as spontaneous or as hot as it had been before.
Now it was sweet and sad and desperate, and yet if it was all he could have of her, he’d settle for the crumbs he could get. He was that pathetic. They were drifting apart, and it was killing him. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it but hope that if he waited, somehow, some way, he’d get a break.
And then he did.
Only it wasn’t the lucky break, he’d prayed for. It was a disaster that sent their lives spinning out of control in a horrible new direction.
Chapter 8
Later that particular Saturday night after she’d driven off from the Saddlebag in his truck, and left him alone at the bar and he was drowning his sorrows in a bottle, in lots of bottles, all different kinds of bottles, Phillip would relearn one of life’s dirtier little tricks. No matter how sudden the catastrophic blow falls, the aftermath is slow and deadly, the better to prolong the victim’s agony.
Not that he had the slightest premonition of what was to come as he led Celeste up the steps of the plain-looking, wooden building that was the local bar. He simply felt edgy and unable to face another evening in the house alone watching television while she avoided him, content to read by herself in the kitchen while so many issues in their relationship were unresolved.
Didn’t she care about him at all? Maybe she could float through life like a leaf going down a stream, but he needed roots. He needed answers, and he was nearly out of patience.
Feeling close to some dangerous, fatal edge, he shoved the door to the open bar and said in a grim, low tone, “Welcome to The Saddlebag.”
As usual she was wearing lots of makeup and that flashy red number that didn’t leave a lot to the imagination.
“You come here often?” she whispered, her voice a little shaky even though she was still trying to pretend that everything was all right between them.
“Before you came home I used to hang out here a lot. I shot pool, drank…dated…. And not nice church girls.”
Celeste swallowed and wouldn’t meet his eyes.
The inside of the bar was dark and cozy. A large bar ran along the far wall and there were about fifteen tables scattered in the middle of the room. In the rear, men were playing pool and shooting darts while their dates watched. A redhead in a tight black mini was yanking at the knob of the lone pinball machine and then pounding the machine and shouting when her balls didn’t go where she wanted them to.
The walls were packed with Texas memorabilia. Maybe to avoid his gaze, Celeste was studying the old photographs of early ranchers, cow skulls, antlers, wagon wheels and branding irons with way more interest than they warranted. Somebody had filled a shelf with old beer bottles. She busied herself reading the labels.
Jake Hornung, a local cowboy, set down his pool cue and came over to them, studying her, too. “Long time, no see, Westin.”
Westin tipped his Stetson. Nodding, he took Celeste by the elbow and kept walking.
“Nice dress. Real nice…. Hey, I know you.” Hornung was practically drooling as he spoke to Celeste. “If you ain’t Stella Lamour I ain’t Jake Robert Hornung. A buddy said you sang at the Lone Star Country Club the other night, but I didn’t b
elieve him. Hey, I bought your album.”
“You’re the only man in America who did.”
“How come you didn’t do any more albums? I made copies for all my buddies. Hey,” he shouted to his friends at the pool table. “Guys, Karla, this here is Stella Lamour, the country-western star.”
A girl in a pink T-shirt that showed too much belly and tight jeans walked up to them and put her arm around Jake. “Stella… You’re good, really good.”
“I never met a star before,” Hornung said. “Will you autograph—”
Celeste took a deep breath. She looked a little uncertain, but her admirers kept smiling at her and fawning over her every remark. Soon she became a little giddy and in the end when she had to sign about ten napkins, she couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
A childhood memory came back to Phillip. One night his mother had put him to bed early and told him not to come out of his room because she was having a big party. Famous people were coming. She’d babbled off a few names.
When she’d turned off the light, he’d had a nightmare that he was falling out of an airplane and had awakened right before he’d hit the ground. Screaming for her, he’d run through the house.
She’d been out in the garden laughing with friends near thick banks of azaleas. As thin as a rail, she was exquisite in red, with a low neck that showed off too many glittering jewels.
He’d yelled, “Mommy.” Her smile had frozen. She’d nodded to his stepfather, who’d clamped a hand on his shoulder and ushered him back to his scary bedroom. His stepfather had been huge, and Phillip had been more terrified of him than of the demons hiding in his dark room.
“If you leave your room again, you know what will happen.”
“I want Mommy.”
“She’s with important people.”
“When will she ever want me?”
The next week they’d sent him to military school.
“Let’s find a table, Celeste…or should I say Stella,” Phillip muttered a little grumpily.
“Sorry about that,” she murmured.
He led her away from the excited group, selecting a table as far from the pool tables and her fans as possible. A waitress came and he ordered them drinks and made up his mind to forget about the little incident.