The Troubled Texan

by Phyliss Miranda

  Applying some mascara, she couldn’t help but think about the amount of self-discipline Deuce had had to enforce upon himself in order to keep his business and personal life separated, especially when under any other circumstances she would be considered a colleague.

  Quickly she dressed in work clothes and went downstairs eager to see Deuce only to find half a pot of coffee. Disappointment washed over her when she didn’t find him sitting at the table to help her welcome the morning. He must have gotten up early, although it was only six-thirty. She’d set the alarm on her phone so she could get to the depot and paint the bathroom.

  Fat-Cat was nowhere in sight.

  It didn’t take a law professor to tell her that the extensive amount of time Deuce had spent with her working at the depot had taken him away from his responsibilities as sheriff. A job he was elected to by the citizens—people who expected him to earn his paycheck, although most probably didn’t consider the fact he worked for them 24/7, not just eight hours a day.

  Rainey walked out to her Chevy listening to the cheerful song of a multitude of birds, many gathered around birdseed that had fallen from several feeders. Smiling again, she thought to herself that today was the first time in years that she’d even taken the time to appreciate the sounds of the outdoors. With a renewed excitement about life, she decided that henceforth it’d be new beginnings and all the negatives of the past would be cloaked by the contentment she felt.

  Fat-Cat crouched under a bush watching the birds feed.

  When she got into town, she noticed Deuce’s personal red F-150 Ford pickup parked outside the building housing the sheriff’s department, but the county’s club-cab he usually drove wasn’t there.

  Three hours later, Rainey finished rinsing out the paint roller and pan, setting them aside to dry. She scrutinized the walls of the bathroom and decided that her choice of Wedgwood blue for the room was perfect. While painting, she had thought of a zillion ways to decorate around the color.

  Before she grabbed some lunch, she wanted to get the hardware on the cabinets because tomorrow she would have the depot in shape to seriously begin shopping for fixtures. She couldn’t wait to see the antique glass she had ordered online. Hopefully, she could purchase some fixtures before they arrived.

  After locating a screwdriver, Rainey sat on the bathroom floor and began taking off the old hardware, preparing for new knobs and pulls.

  She sighed trying not to remember her disappointment at being unable to reach her mother to wish her a happy Mother’s Day, although she’d made two more calls after going back to the depot and working until she couldn’t put one foot in front of the other. Her final message to her mother before she went to bed had ended with, “I hope you’re having fun. Love you.”

  As she screwed on another knob she remembered one more thing she was eager to talk to Deuce about. Maybe when he was in Amarillo he’d been able to talk with Allura and hopefully she had recommended a therapist. Just making the decision to seek help, coupled with Deuce’s tenderness, she already felt better. Much of it had to do with visiting the nursing home and the time spent with Lydia. She could hardly wait to tell Deuce all about it.

  A cowbell sounded its distinctive clap as someone opened the front door to the depot. She rushed from the bathroom to the front eager to see who had come to visit.

  “Sylvie sent me over with this package that just came in.” Gideon held a medium-sized box that Rainey presumed contained some of the items she’d ordered online. “Where do you want me to put it?”

  “Any place is fine and thanks.” She moved her arm in a semicircle around the huge, bare room. “As you can see I’ve got plenty of space.”

  He joined her in laughter.

  “Where’d you get the bell over the door?” Gideon asked.

  “Deuce installed it for me so I didn’t have to set the alarm when I’m here alone,” she answered before asking if he’d like a drink.

  Once she got two cold bottles of water, they took seats at the card table. She sensed he had something on his mind because she couldn’t see him volunteering for much of anything, much less making a delivery for the post office, whether he was friends with Sylvie or not.

  “I’m glad you came by, Gideon. I needed the rest.” She twisted the cap off her water bottle.

  “I’ve been wanting to come talk with you about something but thought it’d be best if I came when there wasn’t a bunch of folks around.” He didn’t look her in the eye and his body language screamed that what he had to say wasn’t going to be good.

  “It’s just something that I think as a friend I should tell you.”

  Fear girded her insides. She held her breath knowing that he was about to tell her that Sylvie and Deuce were lovers, based on the tidbits Sylvie had dropped about having someone special in her life and that she wondered if he was as crazy about her as she was about him. Thinking about the day before, maybe that was why Sylvie had come up with an excuse not to come to the Mother’s Day tea. Deuce said he wouldn’t be home until late. She braced herself for the worst.

  “I wouldn’t put any more money into this place because Wilson isn’t planning on renewing your lease. He is really doing everything he can to make sure you don’t get open. Says the place is draining him and the little bit you’re paying him doesn’t even cover what he had to pay to have new water pipes put in.” He looked at her over his glasses.

  “Well, that’s kinda between him and me. I appreciate you letting me know, but we’ve got a contract and he can’t just kick me out.” She wanted to say that she’d buy the place, but that was out of the question, since Rainey Michaels barely had a background, much less a credit history. “Maybe it qualifies to be in the national or state historical register.”

  “No. He’d never go for that. He wants to get rid of it, even tearing it down if he can’t find a buyer. He thinks it’s worth a whole lot more than it is. I’ve been trying to buy it from him but he wants too much. Before you put more money into the building I thought you should know. Even if he waits out whatever agreement you have, he isn’t going to renew. He’s a hateful, nasty man who’s only lookin’ out for himself.”

  “How do you know this?” It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that her landlord wanted to break the lease agreement.

  “Just around town. He’s like that. Untrustworthy and gossips a lot. That old battleaxe who works for him is as bad as him.” He cupped his plastic bottle with the palms of his hands. “I’m doing this as a favor. If I were you, I’d just walk away and save yourself a lot of money and hard work, plus there aren’t five people in this town interested in antiques. You’ll go out of business before you get started.” He stared her straight in her eyes with a look that made her feel he was issuing a warning. “Just get out before you get hurt.”

  He laughed in a cynical fashion. “I don’t mean physically, just financially.” He tossed his full bottle of water in the trash and got up. “I’ve got to get back to the store. I don’t like to leave my business in Sylvie’s hands any longer than I have to.” He stopped and his gaze moved around the depot as if taking in every detail. “You know she’s got problems, don’t you?”

  Taking a deep breath, Rainey decided to step into uncharted territory and tested the waters a bit. “I thought you and Sylvie are . . .” She chose her next words carefully. “You know, she really admires you and I took it that you two are in a relationship.”

  Gideon shot her a dark, unnerving smile. “She thinks that. Pesters me all of the time, but she’s harmless. See, that’s what I mean. I’ve got to go.” He rushed to the door without saying good-bye, then suddenly turned back in Rainey’s direction and said, “Take my advice about Wilson and get out while you can.”

  “Do me a favor, as a friend. If you see Mr. Wilson, tell him I’m here to stay and there’s nothing he can do about it.” She hoped the tone in her voice portrayed her stubbornness on the subject.

  The thud of the bell echoed through the tomb of the ol’ depo
t. Rainey stared at the door as it closed.

  What a way to ruin an otherwise great day!

  The bell clapped again. This time Deuce walked through the threshold.

  Rainey rushed to him and threw her arms around his neck, whispering, “I’m so glad to see you.” She was afraid he could feel her heart beating out of control. “So glad.” She kissed him on the lips.

  Over his shoulder, she saw four men who all had surprised yet bemused looks on their faces. She quickly pulled away and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” Deuce kissed her lightly on the forehead. “I thought I was the one giving you a surprise but it seems it’s the other way around.” He put her at arm’s length and studied her. “Although I’m happy about the kiss, you have a strange look on your face.”

  “It’s just . . .” She tried to think up an excuse. “There’s men at the door and I wasn’t exactly expecting—”

  “I know. They’re part of my surprise. This is my friend Bob and some of his guys. They’re delivering the fixtures from one of his stores that he’s closing.” He turned and introduced each man to Rainey.

  “Well, let’s get busy.” He turned to Rainey. “We’ve got gondolas, peg boards and hooks, and shelves. A couple of glass cabinets.” He smiled down at her. “And I hope you’ll be happy with my other surprise. Sunday I drove over to Denton and went through some of the things at the old house that were left over from Mama’s antique days. Bob and the guys brought over a bunch of glass to get you started.”

  Her heart leaped in her chest. All the misgivings she’d had about Gideon’s visit vanished and she thought she might just kiss Deuce again.

  “Then your mother is—”

  Her voice was drowned out by the racket of metal shelving hitting the concrete floor. One set whacked Bob on the head as it fell.

  “Hey, guys, be careful.” Deuce rushed over and checked on Bob first, then with his help pulled the shelving upright. “Rainey, tell the guys where you want the stuff ’cause I don’t think Bob wants to come back and move them later.” He and his old buddy laughed and Bob gave Deuce a high-five.

  Around four o’clock, Rainey and Deuce stood at the door and waved farewell to his friends, whom she now added to her list of friends, too. The thoughts of Gideon Duncan’s visit resurfaced. There was just something not right about him dropping by.

  “Deuce, I can’t thank you enough.” Once again she put her hands around his neck, locking her fingers behind.

  His arms circled her waist and he pulled her tightly against his rock-hard body.

  Their gazes locked. His eyes brimmed with tenderness and passion, as he leaned down and kissed her. A kiss that began whisper-soft and tender, but quickly became intense with yearning, sending spirals of ecstasy throughout her body.

  Rainey pulled away, but not before she pressed her lips to his, caressing his mouth more than kissing it. “Unless you want to try out that orange sleeping bag—”

  “Or a cot in one of our empty jail cells.” He planted a tantalizing kiss in the hollow of her neck. “We’d better stop because right now that sleeping bag is lookin’ pretty damn good to me.” He kissed the top of her head. “Plus, I have another surprise for you.”

  “What did I do to get so many surprises?” As much as she didn’t want to, she tugged him with both hands over to a chair so they could sit down.

  “Just being yourself and coming into my life when I really needed you.” He gave her a smile that set her heart racing. “I decided you need a surveillance system so you don’t have to set the alarm every time you’re here alone. Between the bell and a monitor or two, you’ll be able to see who comes and goes.”

  She wanted to kiss him again, but knew that if they did most likely neither would be able to stop this time.

  “I have a couple of monitors, so you can put one at the counter with the cash register and another one some place else where you can see the whole store. There are several cameras with this system and I can get more if you want them.”

  “You make me so happy.” She took his hand and kissed it. Surely that wouldn’t start something that neither wanted stopped. “Let’s get busy. If you’ll unwrap, I’ll start putting the glassware on the shelves. I can place them where they belong later. I’m so eager to see what you have here.” She unwrapped the first piece of Depression glass, a golden topaz six-inch plate. “Oh, Deuce, I hope there’s a lot of this here.” She held the piece up to the light. “These are fairly rare and the best I remember were put in oat boxes back in the thirties. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “It is and I know there’s more here, but if you stop to admire every piece, you won’t have this place open until Thanksgiving.” He chuckled and unwrapped another piece of glassware and put it on a shelf. “I’m going to my truck and get the ladder and then I’m installing the surveillance system tonight.”

  They both began working at each of their jobs. But not being within hearing distance of one another, they worked in silence until Deuce decided to take a breather.

  Wiping his forehead with his shirtsleeve, he said, “I put one monitor out of sight over at the ticket master’s cage.” He looked up at her. “Oops, I mean counter. And where do you want the other one?”

  “Maybe in the area I’ve blocked off as a workstation. I can see pretty much all of the store and it’ll help me monitor the front door, which I can’t see.”

  “Done.” He stepped forward and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I think they hold about ten days of recording. Then you’ll have to save it or the device will begin recording on top of the old footage.”

  Other than taking a short break to eat hamburgers and fries that Deuce had picked up from Pumpkin’s Café, they worked all evening, late into the night. He finished the surveillance system and she stocked the shelves.

  He came up from behind her and put his hands around her waist and pulled her into him. She enjoyed the feel of his strong arms around her . . . something she’d become accustomed to.

  Spying the box Gideon had brought by, she pulled away and said, “I forgot about the delivery Gideon made earlier today for Sylvie.” She rushed to the package that was turned upside down. “I’m sure it’s some pieces that I ordered online.”

  “Do you need help?” Deuce asked.

  “I’ve got it. It’s not as heavy as I thought it’d be.” She took it over to the table. Ripping the tape from the bottom, she pulled back the cardboard. Her back became ramrod straight and she wasn’t sure she could get enough breath to call out to Deuce, as she spied the familiar turquoise-and-gray paisley printed Prada handbag exactly like the one she’d tossed behind the trash receptacle a few blocks away from her offices in Los Angeles.

  She steadied herself on the edges of the table and leaned forward until her lightheadedness began to subside. Had she gone mad? Had she ordered the same handbag and forgotten about it? Not in a million years.

  In a voice as weak and unsteady as her legs, she managed to call for Deuce.

  “What’s wrong?” He grabbed her and looked down at the package. “Isn’t it what you ordered?”

  Tears welled in her eyes and she swallowed hard before she looked up at him. “Turn the box over and see where it was mailed from.”

  He did as she requested. She didn’t have to look at the mailing label. She could tell by Deuce’s face, along with the way the muscle in his jaw quivered, her suspicions were right.

  With an odd yet gentle tone, he said, “San Quentin.”

  She closed her eyes and in a broken whisper said, “Look inside of the purse and see if there’s a red ink stain about the size of a dime on the bottom lining.”

  “Let me get some gloves. Are they still in the workbox?”

  She nodded, opened her eyes and stared at the mailing label. Just like the death threats . . . San Quentin, CA, 94964.

  When Deuce finished examining the purse, he looked up at her. She didn’t need words to know he’d found the ink spot.

  “Who would
send a purse from San Quentin?” Deuce bellowed, probably not realizing how loudly his voice resonated through the air.

  “A very sick, deranged murderer,” Rainey managed to whisper. “Someone who has made it his mission to try to make me become as mad as he is.” She leaned into Deuce, who had her tucked into his side. “Someone doing a favor for Alonzo Hunter.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tuesday morning, Deuce sat at the kitchen table and thought back over the prior evening. He hated like hell having to leave Rainey’s car parked at the depot, but she was too upset to drive out to the ranch.

  Without asking her for more information, it was obvious that the purse held a huge significance, not just the fact that it had come from Hunter.

  What did it mean to her? All the way to the ranch, he wanted so badly to ask her about the purse, but there was no doubt in his mind that it somehow had to do with her planned disappearance from LA. Her tone had chilled his blood when she said, Someone doing a favor for Alonzo Hunter.

  They drove home in total silence. He asked no questions and she offered no explanation. He knew she’d talk about it when she was ready. He’d found himself trusting her, although he wished the same could be said of her. He’d been holding back personal matters, plus the arrival of the second letter. And he hoped when she learned the truth, it wouldn’t ruin what they had found with each other.

  When they reached the ranch, he asked if she wanted to talk and told her he had a bottle of wine waiting in the kitchen. She had thanked him and said she needed a hot bath and to go to bed. She’d kissed him lightly on the cheek and said good night.

  He’d drunk two bottles of beer and had gone upstairs to take his shower and crawl into bed with hopes he could pull her to him and provide her some comfort.

  When he opened the door to his bedroom, to his surprise, Rainey wasn’t there.