Death of a Rancher's Daughter

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Death of a Rancher's Daughter Page 12

by Susan P. Baker


  “All right, I hear you. I'm going to my office. I had a meeting that took all morning and need to address some things on my desk. Why don't you come by after you've sorted everything out? We're in the bank building across and down the street.” He pointed toward the east.

  She had trouble believing he could be so nice after she'd confessed to lying. His lips turned up at the corners, revealing one dimple. She hadn't noticed that before. Why would someone like him be unattached in a world where there were so many more women than men?”

  “Okay, Jared. But I want you to understand—”

  His palms flew up in a hands-off gesture. “Just come see the space this afternoon, that's all. You'll have plenty of time to take care of business at BJ's and go to bed early so you'll be rested for your drive home tomorrow.”

  “Now you're sounding like my mother.”

  “Whoa. I take it that's not a compliment.” He cocked his head.

  She picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. “This is awkward.”

  “Sandra, I don't know what's going on with us—if there is an us—but I told you I'd help you out. I fully intend to do that.” He pushed back. “We don't really know each other, though I'd like to get to know you. I mean aside from—well, you'll spend some time in my office when your trial starts—”

  Sandra tried not to laugh. He felt as ill at ease about their personal situation as she did. She didn't want a relationship, that was true. But she liked this guy, this blond farm-boy-type who she could tell had a story of his own. The easiest thing for her would be to do nothing, to focus on the case, the trial, doing her best for Rufina, and to let things with Jared play out over the course of the coming months. She touched the back of his hand. “I'll come by after I get my things.”

  He put his chair under the table. “We're on the third floor.” He indicated she should walk ahead of him.

  When they went out the door, he said, “See you.”

  Sandra nodded. She buttoned up her jacket against the cold and watched him head toward the crosswalk. She liked that he was so big, so tall—even without his boots. She preferred taller men. And one in good shape, not too thin, not starting to get fat, muscular—what was she thinking about that for? She laughed at herself and hurried toward her car, looking back once more. Jared, too, glanced over his shoulder as he crossed the street.

  Jared's cousin was understanding and didn't charge Sandra for an extra night. She packed her overnight bag with the few clothes she'd brought and threw them into the car. She called Ray, the attorney-friend who would cover for her when Erma couldn't or wouldn’t. He agreed to take care of the protective order hearing.

  Pleased that for once everything was going well, Sandra parked beside the bank building that held Jared's law office. The sidewalks were as busy with shoppers as they had been earlier. The displays in the store windows had been changed since the last time she'd been there. Bunnies and pastel-colored eggs were now in place. Gone were the woolen coats and warm pantsuits. Spring fashions with a country flair hung on the mannequins.

  Elation filled her as she drew in air all the way to the bottom of her lungs. The day had turned out much better than it had begun. She'd prevailed in getting what she wanted in her hearing. Holt learned things wouldn't always go his way. Judges wouldn't always favor him. And, if Sandra had anything to say about it, the jury in Rufina's case wouldn't go his way either.

  She would talk with Rufina to get to the bottom of her fears and be able to interview Kathy Lynn. She even looked forward to spending some time with BJ, to learning more about the family.

  Inside the bank building, she punched the elevator button and straightened her clothing while she waited. On a whim, she pulled out a tube of lipstick and swiped her lips. Wondering if the onions from her sandwich were still on her breath, she dug deep into her purse for anything that might alleviate the odor and found two paper-wrapped mints. Now if she only had a little spray bottle of cologne...

  When the elevator came, she pressed the button for the third floor and drew another deep breath. She was there to see the office layout. That was all. Just to see the setup and how it would work during the trial. Nothing was going to happen between Jared and her. She had almost a year before trial, and she intended to use every opportunity when she was in the Hill Country to work on the case, only the case.

  When she entered Jared's office, a familiar-looking youngish woman sitting at a gray, farmhouse-style front desk asked, “May I help you?”

  Sandra glanced around the carpeted reception area and tapped her lips. “Looking for Jared. Is he in?” The walls bore framed country scenes. Though the colors in the furniture were subdued, bordering rustic and charming, the style was not outdated.

  “He said you might be looking for him. He's a big tease, and I thought he was kidding.”

  Sandra gripped the strap of her bag which hung over her left shoulder. “I'm sorry. If we've met, I don't remember.”

  The woman nodded. “I'm his sister. Remember you helped me with my divorce?”

  “Oh, yes.” Sandra shook the young woman's hand. “I didn't recognize you.”

  “Well, of course you didn't.” She flapped her fingers at Sandra. “I look a lot better than I did even a few weeks ago. I was stressed back then. I don't work here. I'm just subbing for the regular receptionist who is out having a baby. I thought the least I could do would be to work for my brother when he needed someone after he represented me for free. Except for the part of it you did, I mean.”

  Sandra stood in front of the receptionist's desk while the woman talked. “I'm embarrassed I don't even remember your name.”

  “Laura. Was Laura Keller. Now Laura Longley.”

  “That's enough talking her ear off,” Jared interrupted from the long hallway.

  Sandra's body responded to the sound of his voice, growing twitchy outside and jittery inside. “How are you, Mr. Longley?” As if she hadn't seen him an hour earlier.

  Jared looked her up and down, his eyes stopping a couple of times. “To what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Salinsky?” As if he hadn't invited her there.

  Sandra looked him up and down in return, her eyes stopping a couple of times as well. “Remember I said the next time I was in town I'd look over that office space you offered? Are you busy now?”

  He hesitated like he was going to say something, then his lips parted in a grin. “No, a little paperwork to do. But it can wait.”

  “And the library, too. I'd love to see your library. I'm assuming you have a board table—a table we can spread our stuff out on if there's not enough room in your spare office?”

  His eyes became a dark, shiny green. “Sure do. Laura, don't disturb us if I receive any calls.”

  Laura appeared to be studying the top of the computer keyboard. “Glad to see you again, Miss Salinsky.” She turned to a document resting to her left and thumbed the space bar.

  “You too, Laura.” Sandra walked toward Jared. “How many offices do you have in this complex?”

  “Head down that hallway.” He touched her back in a light prod. “Several. I only have one associate right now. He's in a meeting with a surveyor.”

  Sandra rubbed at the goosebumps his touch raised on her skin, glad she wore long sleeves and a coat. She let him escort her past the first office on the left.

  “That's his. This next one on the right is mine.” His desk sat in front of large windows with a panoramic view into the distance. “Super view, right?”

  “Super,” Sandra said, mimicking him. She wasn't sure she was capable of saying much more. For someone who didn't want a relationship, she sure felt drawn to the man.

  “The one right next to it is the empty one. The one you can use.” He took her to a room about half the size of his office, which held a desk, executive chair, two chairs opposite, and a wide bookcase with files stacked on most of the shelves. “Laura can take those files out. But looking at it, I see what you're getting at. Not much room in this small office for
people to spread out. I'm sure you'll need more space. Across the hall is the library.”

  He opened a door to a stereotypical attorney's law library, crowded with lawyer paraphernalia. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with tan and black and various other colored law books, some of which looked like they dated back to at least the previous century, if not the one before. A commercial-sized copier sat at one end. A long, wide conference table stood in the middle with ten chairs surrounding it. An empty water pitcher, plastic cups, and the tray on which they sat were centered on the table. “We do depositions in here. Plenty of room for everyone.”

  Sandra's eyes roamed from Jared to the table and back to Jared. She might regret her actions later, but she doubled back to the door and closed it, locking it behind her. Her jacket fell to the floor and moments later, their clothes graced the backs of the chairs. The table was hard on her back, but she didn't care. There was a lot more room to spread out than on the carpet.

  Chapter Fourteen

  BJ looked like hell. Her hair was stringy. The shirt and jeans she wore looked like they hadn’t been changed in days. She hugged Sandra like she was some kind of long-lost relative. “So happy you came. Let me show you to your room.” BJ didn’t smell good either. She needed a bath in the worst way.

  “If it's the same as last time, I think I can find it.”

  BJ snatched the overnight bag from Sandra's shoulder and headed toward the back of the house.

  “Alrighty,” BJ said, dropping Sandra's bag on the bed. “Here you go. Can I fix you something to eat? Want a drink? I've got most anything you'd like.”

  Sandra set her purse down on the night table and stepped out of her shoes. A drink would be wonderful, something strong, but she would pass. “A cup of decaf? I appreciate you putting me up.”

  “Nonsense. If you had told me you were going to be here last night, you could have stayed then, too.”

  “I arrived rather late.” She took off her jacket. “Go ahead, and I'll join you in a few minutes. By the way, what time will Kathy Lynn be here?”

  BJ stopped in the doorway. “Uh, she won't.”

  “I don't suppose she was the one who passed me on the way in. Does she drive a ruby red Mustang?” She had suspected Kathy Lynn wasn't going to be there in the first place and had been surprised when a young blonde woman raced past her going in the other direction. “What happened?”

  BJ's leathered face whitened. “I stupidly told Rex when he called that you'd be here, and Kathy Lynn was coming for dinner. She showed up, but when I told her Rex would be here, she didn't stay five-minutes.”

  What was it between Kathy Lynn and Rex? Sandra would like to get to the bottom of that eventually. “I'm going to have to talk to her sooner or later. Good thing there's a year to prepare for trial.” She didn't want to go to Kerrville to see Kathy Lynn, so she'd been glad to hear they'd be able to meet that night. Still, there was plenty of time.

  “Sorry. But even so, Rufina is still locked in her house. She's the one I'm hoping you can help with right now.”

  “Okay. I'll be in there in a few minutes. I want to talk to you before I see Rufina.” She rubbed her feet. They were complaining from wearing high heels all day. Well, most of the day. She pushed thoughts of Jared out of her head. She pulled on a pair of flats and used the restroom. Her cell pinged. A quick look told her Erma had called five times. Sandra had ignored the pings when she'd been with Jared. She tapped in her mother's number.

  “Goddamn, about time,” Erma said when she picked up. “Where the hell are you? Patricia said you called and said you were going to be gone another night.”

  “I’m at BJ's now.” Sandra explained she needed to talk to Rufina. “And I wanted to talk to Kathy Lynn, but she didn't want to talk to me.” She pushed the door closed and sat on the bed.

  “What do you mean? What happened?”

  Erma's breath sounded labored. Sandra hoped Erma had just climbed the stairs and not that she’d started smoking or vaping or whatever addiction she was into now. “I think Rex has intimidated Kathy Lynn into not talking to us. Something's going on there. I can't help feeling it has to do with Katy Jo's being shot.”

  “You think he did it?” Erma's voice rose an octave. “He's a little worm, but I can't believe he'd deliberately kill his sister.”

  “From everything you've always told me about the girls, if someone needed killing, Kathy Lynn would be dead, not Katy Jo, but I haven't a clue who the shooter would be.”

  “Yeah. Katy Jo was the sweetest baby, always content in her carrier, cooing like a little dove. Kathy Lynn was colicky and gave BJ fits. And nothing changed in all those years....”

  Sandra let her eyes wander while Erma recited the oft spoken refrain Sandra had heard since they'd decided to take the case. The room decor still hadn't changed from the holidays. Maybe BJ didn't have the energy to do it.

  Erma coughed into the phone. “Katy Jo grew up to be the sweetest and most helpful young woman to her mother. But Kathy Lynn…what a bitch.”

  “Well, I've got to interview her sometime, but there's plenty of time. Hey, I need to go. BJ's waiting for me in the kitchen.” She started out the door.

  “So you don't even want me to tell you why I called you so many times?”

  “Because you love me and miss me, Mommy Dearest?”

  “No, that's not the reason.”

  “So you want me to guess?”

  “That goddamned court coordinator called the office this afternoon. The Kerrville court coordinator. If we want it, we can have a trial setting in March. Otherwise, we’ll keep the one she gave us for next year. How do you like them apples?”

  Sandra stopped dead in the hall. Her blood ran hot. She'd never had high blood pressure, but this murder case might trigger it. Another reason to quit practicing criminal law and switch to civil. Civil was only about money. “Son of a bitch. I wonder what prompted the change of heart.”

  “Said they had a cancellation. Somebody decided to plead out. Said she knew it wasn't much notice. Take it or leave it.”

  “This doesn't pass the smell test. I think Holt is fucking with us.”

  “And I'm not enjoying it one bit. It'll be almost impossible to be ready in a month.”

  Sandra’s mind raced with all that would need doing if they took the earlier setting. BJ entered the hall with a mug in her hand. Sandra held up one finger to stall her for a minute. They were being jerked around by Holt and God knows who else, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t deal with it. She was sure Rufina would be agreeable. For a client, the sooner matters were resolved, the better. They’d take the setting.

  Erma coughed again. “I suppose we can wait until the setting we already have rolls around. Remember, delay can be the defense lawyer's best friend.”

  “Not in this case. Call back and tell her we'll take it. Rufina can't stay locked in her house forever.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Rufina won't come out of her house. She thinks she's safer inside than out. That was why I initially agreed to spend the night. I need to talk to her and find out what's going on with her.”

  “Shit. Okay, we'll talk more about that when you're home. You'd better haul ass back here as fast as possible. If we're going to take that earlier setting, we've got a trial to prepare for.”

  “Then hasta mañana, Mamacita.” Sandra clicked off and turned her phone to silent.

  “Was that Erma?” BJ handed the steaming mug to Sandra. The scent of coffee dominated the air. “I fixed us a snack. What's going on with her?” She wiped her hands on a dishtowel tucked into her waistband. BJ wore the same fake grin she often pasted on her face, but her red, puffy eyes told a different story. She was barely holding herself together.

  Sandra followed her back to the kitchen and slid onto a bar stool. All the food on the counter left little room for her elbows. BJ or one of her employees had set out a spread of olives, green and black, and hummus and crackers and cheese and so
me stuff Sandra didn't recognize, together with bottles of fizzy water. If this was a snack, she couldn't wait for dinner. She took a sip of coffee and a bite out of a chunk of cheese on a cracker. She'd like nothing more than to take the mug to the sofa and put her feet up. But she had a lot of questions for BJ, and she'd better get started, so there would be time for Rufina before Rex showed up.

  “Why don't you first tell me what's up with you, BJ? Why are you always wearing that fake grin?” Tears burst from BJ's eyes. She pulled the dishtowel from her waist and covered her face.

  Though she wasn't the sentimental type, something about seeing that big woman cry tweaked Sandra's heart. BJ stood in her jeans and snapped down western shirt and boots, all toughness drained out of her, and bawled her eyes out. Sandra wasn't equipped to handle emotional people—at least not the sad stuff. After all, with Erma the emotions were aggressive, blasts of curse words together with lots of demonstrative gestures—except when performing for a jury. Sandra had seen plenty of acting there. She slid off the stool and went to BJ and rubbed her back. “Would you like a glass of water?”

  BJ wrapped her arms around Sandra, almost squashing the stuffing out of her. Sandra continued to pat BJ's back, hoping the episode wouldn't last very long, so she could breathe something other than BJ’s body odor. Too, she was tired and wanted to talk to Rufina, then eat dinner and go to bed early. As soon as she thought that, she felt another twinge—a twinge of guilt. After all the money BJ had paid them, the least Sandra could do was provide a shoulder. She tightened her arms around BJ and murmured, “You're okay. Everything will be okay.” That sounded right.

  After several minutes, BJ raised her head. Her blotchy face was swollen, her bangs smashed against her forehead. “I'm s-so s-sorry.”

 

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