“Sheriff Cowan, I’m so glad you called. I had hoped to be able to talk to you today. I know you were so upset the other night when you were called. Your mother is doing so much better. The doctor is really amazed. Not that the disease is in remission or anything like that because Alzheimer’s doesn’t take a break, but if we can keep the patients comfortable and as happy as possible, we consider it progress. She hasn’t even mentioned not being able to watch you on TV.”
“What do you attribute her improvement to?”
“I think increasing your visits to twice a day has helped. And she’s been a whole lot more content since Mother’s Day. But as you know she’s not letting go of being called Lydia Dunivan. She also talks about the nice lady who spends so much time with her. The one who brings her strawberry milk.”
Before Deuce could ask more about the new volunteer his mother liked so much, he heard voices arguing in the background of the nursing home.
“I’ve got to go, Deuce, but I wanted to let you know.”
He looked up just in time to see Rainey shutting the door of the guest bedroom.
Barely saying good-bye, Deuce returned his phone to the end table when Rainey started down the stairs. Apparently, she hadn’t heard any of his conversation.
An hour later, Deuce and Rainey lay on one of Deuce’s mother’s quilts beneath an ancient cottonwood tree that shielded them from the afternoon sun. They enjoyed the birds as they fluttered around singing their songs of late spring.
Lying on her back, Rainey tucked her arms behind her head and obliviously studied the clouds.
“I see an elephant,” she said.
“An elephant? Anyone can see an elephant in the clouds. What about that coyote over there?” He pointed toward the east.
Elephants turned to castles and melted into lions. Damn it if he wasn’t becoming painfully aware of the magnetism drawing him to Rainey . . . the love of his life.
Deuce lifted up on an elbow and watched the rise and fall of her breast. Pebble hard peaks fought the restraint of her thin yet serviceable blouse. He made no attempt to hide the fact he watched her. There was no need.
Gently, almost hesitantly, Deuce lowered himself toward her, pressed his lips against hers, then slowly covered her mouth with a soft kiss, as she’d fallen asleep.
Putting his arms behind his head, he stared up into the clouds, enjoying the quiet of the prairie. He thought about what it would have been like to live on the Slippery Elm when it was established a hundred-plus years ago. Slowly his eyes closed.
He was awakened by shrill, ear-piercing calls of two scrub jays as they staked their territory. By her color, apparently the female had a nest in the tree and wanted to make sure it wasn’t bothered. Just another woman protecting what was hers. He smiled to himself.
Rainey rolled over and slid her arms around his waist and kissed him full on the lips, then whispered, “I’m hungry, so let’s go back to the house and see what Emily left in the fridge for us today.”
“I’d rather stay here and kiss you.” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke.
She buried her face in his neck and breathed a kiss there. “But it’s nearing sunset and unless you have a flashlight, I think we’d better get back to the house.”
“You’re right.” He got up and began packing the picnic basket while Rainey folded the quilt.
Back home, Deuce had barely set the picnic basket on the kitchen cabinet when his iPhone rang. He decided whoever was calling could wait until he put the extra unopened drinks in the refrigerator. He knew it wasn’t anybody from the sheriff’s department because he’d assigned their calls with a different ring from others.
When his phone when off a second time, he rushed to retrieve it.
The caller ID pulled him immediately into his professional mode. “Sheriff Cowan,” he answered.
After ending the call, he yelled at Rainey to hurry as they had to get to town, while he unlocked his gun cabinet.
“What’s wrong?” Rainey said as she rushed down the stairs.
“There’s a fire at the depot.” He buckled his gun belt.
“How serious is it?”
“I don’t know. The fire chief didn’t say. Just said to get down there and asked if anybody was inside. I told him no.”
They rushed to Deuce’s county vehicle and ran hot, with lights flashing, as fast as he could without endangering them.
Once at the depot, they were met with the chief of the volunteer fire department and together they walked to the back of the depot where huge lights lit the area. “Glad you guys got here so fast,” the chief said.
“I see it’s out. Where did it begin?” Deuce shot off the question to the chief.
“Right here at the back between the tracks and the building. Looks like tumbleweeds blew against the ol’ wooden freight doors and apparently something caused them to catch fire.” He sighed. “Pretty sure I smelled gasoline but it’s still too hot to really begin our investigation. Did you store anything combustible out here for any reason? Cleaning supplies even?” He addressed the last two questions to Rainey.
“No,” Rainey answered softly. “Thank you and the other firemen for putting it out so quickly.”
“Has Harold Wilson been notified?” Deuce asked.
One of the volunteer firemen stepped up to answer. “I called his cell phone and his wife answered. I didn’t talk to him directly. She relayed the message to him and I heard him with my own ears say that he was sorry that we got the fire put out because if the place burnt to the ground, it’d save him the trouble of tearing it down himself.”
“Very suspicious for a man who used to love the building more than life,” the fire chief remarked.
“Something else, sheriff. I think the fire was deliberately started.”
“What makes you think that?” Deuce asked. “Besides the smell of gasoline, which is enough in itself.”
“For one thing, when I was here a while back with my day job with the water department, all the tumbleweeds were removed so the plumbing company could lay down new lines.”
“They probably blew back in since it’s been so dry,” Rainey interjected.
Deuce’s jaw tightened and he clenched his fist, knowing what he had to say was only going to upset Rainey. “No. I was out here when I put in the new surveillance system and there were no weeds.” He took a deep breath. “And keep that under your hat. I don’t want it to be common knowledge that I installed a system or Mayor Humphries will skin me alive for not going through hoops to get a permit.” He raised an eyebrow.
The fire chief seemed to be thinking things over, and then asked, “Deuce, when have you ever known tumbleweeds to still be around in the Panhandle this late in the spring?”
“Usually they’ve blown all the way to the Rio Grande by now.”
“That’s right, except for the ones that have blown across a field and gotten all tangled together before gettin’ piled up in the corner of a fenced pasture.”
“These had to be deliberately placed here. A few could never be high enough to reach the freight doors. When we got here, the stack was still pretty high, although it’d burned down a bunch.”
“The worst damage is definitely the ol’ freight doors, so, sheriff, I’ve got to put this on the records as an arson investigation.”
“And our lead suspect is Harold Wilson,” Deuce said.
“From the things he’s been spouting around town and what he said over the phone, it looks that way to me, too,” the fire chief said.
Rainey took an audibly deep breath. “Gideon Duncan came by and said he had something to tell me as a friend. Without all the detail—”
Deuce cut her off. “I’ll need everything you can remember.”
“I know. But basically he said that Wilson wants me out of the depot because it’s costing him too much money to maintain.”
“Damn it.” Fury ran through Deuce. “You should have told me, Rainey.”
“I didn’t think it wa
s important but he did contradict himself.”
“How?” Deuce could kick himself twice again over for flaring up at her, but at the moment she wasn’t the woman he cared about and loved, but a victim.
“Gideon said that Wilson wanted this place condemned and it wasn’t worth me putting any money into. But then he said something about Wilson wanting too much money for the depot or he, Gideon, would buy it himself. I just found that strange. Why would Gideon want to buy an old building when Wilson had already told him it drained him financially? Just seemed an odd statement to me. Then he left like his tail was on fire . . . no pun intended.”
“Good question,” Deuce said.
Danny walked up and the sheriff said, “Don’t think you heard but we’ve got an arson and a suspect. Go pick up Harold Wilson for questioning.”
“Sheriff, I can’t. He broke a hip last night. I heard Jessup when he took the 9-1-1 call. It was a hit and run. Wilson was out walking his dog, but didn’t see who hit him. No witnesses. The last I heard he’s in ICU under heavy sedation.”
“If it wasn’t Wilson, then who in the hell tried to burn the place down?” Deuce said aloud, knowing that Rainey had just given him another suspect, but he didn’t want to act upon his intuition at the moment. He knew Rainey was likely thinking the same thing he was . . . someone hired by Alonzo Hunter.
Whoever was trying to get Rainey out of the depot would try something again.
But the next time they’d have to deal with Donovan Cowan, the Deuce, as his daddy always called him, swearing he’d won him in a card game with four deuces.
Chapter Nineteen
Hours turned into days, days into weeks without any suspects being arrested for trying to torch the depot. Rainey had as many questions as an inquisitive kindergartner. Not just who had sent the letters but the culprit responsible for the purse. Then add the fire at the depot, which if it hadn’t been noticed by Winnie’s husband walking his dog, could have destroyed the historic building. Who was trying to run Rainey out of town?
As much as she didn’t want to consider the idea, could it be someone hired by Hunter?
Rainey folded clothes with the help of Fat-Cat, who seemed to think the thick bath towels, separated from the regular laundry and thrown in a big wicker basket, were just the answer to a warm place for the tomcat to curl up for a nap.
She was still amazed that Deuce hadn’t asked her to drop the whole idea of opening an antiques store, but she hoped that meant he realized she didn’t accept being dictated to very well. Another thing she couldn’t believe was that it’d been nearly two weeks since the fire.
With Deuce at her side, she wasn’t terrified at every turn. She continued to spend her mornings preparing for the depot’s grand opening, which meant trips every Friday and Saturday to Amarillo’s garage and estate sales. Sometimes she’d stop at a house she’d discovered on one of her trips that was similar to the one in Denton where she’d grown up. She tried to think about the good times but her thoughts never lasted very long. It’d been nearly a month since her multitude of calls on Mother’s Day and she had not received a return call from either her mother or father. No doubt she had disappointed both of them to the point that their relationship might never be repaired.
“Move, Fat-Cat,” she told the ol’ tom as she gently lifted him from the wicker basket. “I’ve got to get finished so I can go visit Lydia.”
She felt happy inside thinking about getting to see Lydia Dunivan, who was always waiting for her in the recreation area shredding Kleenex. Rainey could see Lydia’s pleasant smile as she tried to look behind Rainey’s back to find the Dairy Queen strawberry shake Rainey always brought her. So far Rainey hadn’t missed a day going to the nursing home, even those when she felt anxious because she could depend on Lydia to cheer her up. A funny feeling came over Rainey that she was the one who was supposed to cheer up Lydia, but instead it was the other way around.
Rainey folded another towel. She had told Deuce the night before, as he was falling asleep on his feet after a long and likely stressful day, just how much better she was feeling since seeking treatment from the therapist Allura recommended. In the same way Rainey had felt a sense of relief when Deuce brought up the possibility she was experiencing PTSD. It made her feel better sharing it with a professional who was honest with her, telling her that the symptoms wouldn’t go away overnight but she could learn techniques to help her deal with the disorder. She was trying to work on facing and feeling her memories and emotions so she could move on with her life and be happy again.
No doubt the case Deuce was working on was a humdinger. It seemed to have consumed him as he stayed at the sheriff’s department later than he had since she’d arrived in town and came home exhausted. Most evenings he didn’t come upstairs until long after she had gone to bed; but every morning she woke up in his arms feeling his comfort surrounding her.
Neither of them had taken much time for themselves, or for each other for that matter, but they tried to catch lunch at Pumpkin’s Café or Winnie’s together as many days as possible. Most evenings she warmed up the meal Emily prepared for them and ate alone. Occasionally, he’d make it home in time to share a meal.
Deuce laughed one night when he told her that he thought his foreman had put on weight because of Emily’s cooking.
Eagerly putting away the folded clothes, Rainey looked at the clock. She had to hurry. Deuce had said he’d be home early for “Date Night.” They finally had an evening together. She almost laughed out loud at his statement, “Don’t cook. I’ll bring dinner.” As if she could cook!
“If tranquility had a name it’d be Deuce Cowan,” she whispered to herself as she stripped down and showered. After putting on one of her best outfits, she added gold hoop earrings. She had just sprayed herself lightly with perfume when she heard the door open downstairs.
Rushing down the stairs she launched herself into Deuce’s arms. He kissed her like he hadn’t seen her in a month. Breaking loose, she asked, “What did you bring for dinner? It smells so good.”
“Winnie’s barbeque with all the fixin’s.” He handed her the bag and kissed her again. “Let me lock up my gun and change clothes. Then I’ll come in and prepare dinner.”
“Oh, no, you don’t.” She laughed as she hid the sack behind her back. “It’s my turn to cook. Take your time and I’ll have supper on the table in no time.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him with a hunger that sent the pit of her stomach into a wild swirl. “I know you’re hungry.”
“I’m hungry okay, but it isn’t Winnie’s barbeque that I’m wantin’ right now.” He put his arms around her waist, almost knocking the sack out of her hand, and pulled her up to meet his lips. He moved his mouth over hers leaving her with a burning desire, an aching need for another kiss. He obliged.
Setting her down on her feet he said, “Now go fix dinner.”
As she turned, he patted her on the fanny and she heard his hearty laugh fade into his study.
An hour later, they sat on the sofa with two glasses of wine. She leaned against Deuce enjoying every second with him.
“I’m so glad you planned a special night for us.” She nibbled on his earlobe.
“I am, too.” He set down his wineglass and turned to her. “I think we’ve become close enough that I can ask you a very personal question and if you don’t want to answer, all you have to say is well, nothing. I’ll understand.”
“There’s nothing I won’t share with you, Deuce.” She also set down her glass and looked him squarely in the eyes. “I know at first I kept secrets from you, but I thought I had to for my own safety. But now there isn’t any question I won’t answer.” She deliberately shot him an open, friendly smile. “I love you that much.”
“And I love you, too.” He laid his hand on her knee. “Why didn’t you go to your parents when you felt you were in danger? Why devise such an elaborate scheme when, with the political power your father has, he could see that you were protected?”
“Don’t give me the runaround, Rainey.” His dark eyebrows slanted in a frown. “They weren’t out of town all that long. And what I can remember from growing up together is nothing was good enough for their little girl.”
“That was the way it probably looked to others, but my father is a judgmental, overbearing politician. He wanted me to be the perfect child and when I wasn’t, then I was just a big disappointment to him. His first was that he wanted a son to follow in his footsteps and when I was born, he pretty much rejected me, leaving me to get what love I got from my mother, only if it didn’t interfere with one of her social gatherings or a game of tennis at the country club.”
“I’m sorry I asked.” He squeezed her knee and kissed her temple. “But that does explain why he didn’t even bother to tell you that I called to ask you to the homecoming dance. He truly didn’t think I was good enough for his little girl.”
Rainey found herself staring at the picture over the fireplace, while the memories flooded back to her. She’d never spoken of her life as a child and it felt good to tell the person she cared about more than anyone in the world.
“He treated me like a hole-in-one at the golf course. I was little more than a coveted achievement he could brag about when I excelled and make an excuse for me when I didn’t meet his expectations. The trial was one of those times.” She took a deep breath, feeling free for the first time in her life when it came to discussing her upbringing. “He called me every day, sometimes twice during preparation for the trial to see if I was following his advice. When I didn’t, I’d lie to him and tell him I was. You’d think as a judge he knew that I had a boss who was pulling the political strings and a slew of co-counsels to work with. Being lead counsel didn’t make me the lord of all of the prosecutors. Plus, Judith was up for reelection and had to play politics.”
She suddenly felt ill-equipped to continue telling Deuce about her family life, yet at the same time she felt a need to tell all of it so she continued. “You have no idea the humiliation I felt when I was forced to take the death penalty off the table. None of my co-counsels wanted it either, but we knew if we didn’t that there was a good chance Hunter would get off because of his mental state. To protect the citizens, we wanted him under lock and key and that’s what we got.”
The Troubled Texan Page 19