by Stacy Finz
“How was the lake?”
“It was good,” she said.
Her father went off to talk to Jace and she wished she could go inside and watch TV or something. It’s not that she didn’t like Sawyer. He seemed nice, even if he was old. But she kind of wanted to be alone. She thought that once they started eating she could sneak away. It wasn’t like anyone would notice her absence anyway.
“Who wants burgers, who wants fish?” Jace was at the barbecue. He had on a funny apron that said, “Mr. Good Lookin’ Is Cookin’.”
“I’ll have both,” Sawyer said.
“Anything else I can get you, your royal highness?”
Travis and Grady laughed at their dad’s joke and Ellie hid a giggle. Jace was kind of funny. The men were always poking at one another. She didn’t think they were really trying to be mean, but her mom probably would’ve thought it was disrespectful.
“Ellie, what do you want?” Jace asked.
“I’ll have a burger, please.”
“Coming right up.”
She wanted desperately to look at her phone to see if Mary Margaret had texted her, but her father didn’t like it when she was on her cell. She could tell because whenever she got on it, his face scrunched up like he’d sucked on a lemon. Her mom used to take the phone away from her if she texted at the table.
He came back to where she and Sawyer were sitting. More than likely, he’d been checking up on her with Jace, making sure she hadn’t been a brat on the fishing trip. He probably hated having to be her dad and wished she didn’t exist. Ellie suspected that the only reason he wouldn’t let her return to Boston was because he was a grown-up and had to be responsible.
Jace served her a burger. Somehow, he’d known how to make it the way she liked it. Not too pink. Pink meat made her want to gag.
“That’s our beef. We raised it here on the ranch,” Travis said. He seemed proud of it, but Ellie thought it was sad for the cows and was seriously thinking of becoming a vegan like Mary Margaret.
She took a bite of her burger and decided to become a vegan later. Her father put some salad on her plate, and when he wasn’t looking, Sawyer passed her the bag of potato chips on the table. It was sort of nice eating outside. Even though it was hot, the trees were shady and she could see the horses in the distance. Grady sat by her but got up at least a million times to run around. He was sooooo hyperactive.
Ellie finished her burger, ate a few bites of the salad, and got up to head for the house.
“Where’re you going?” her father asked.
She had to go to the bathroom and now he wanted her to announce it in front of the whole group. Great. “I need to go inside for a second.” Hopefully, he’d get a clue and not embarrass her.
“Okay.”
At least he wasn’t a complete loser, she thought as she continued to the back door. Once inside the bathroom, she snuck a look at her phone. Mary Margaret hadn’t texted her back. She put the seat down on the toilet, sat on it, and rushed off a quick text.
“Where are you? I hate it here.”
She waited for a reply but was afraid if she waited too long, her father would come looking for her.
“Have to go,” she wrote to Mary Margaret. “But I have two hundred and seventy-four dollars and forty-five cents in my suitcase. Do you think that’s enough to buy a bus ticket home?”
She put her phone away, finished doing her business, and went back outside.
* * * *
Aubrey changed out of her painting clothes and headed for town. It was time to meet Mitch face-to-face to let him know his rumormongering was unacceptable. She couldn’t afford to lose any more clients.
On the drive over, she tried to decide how to play this. If she told him she was going to rat him out—tell everyone in Dry Creek what he’d done—he’d call her bluff. She had to come up with something more creative. The problem was, she didn’t have anything better than the truth, and the truth would devastate Brett.
Once she got there, she’d have to wing it.
Mitch was probably just getting home from work. She deliberated on whether to give him time to settle in. Her ex was more agreeable after a couple of beers. Then again, he deserved nothing more than to be ambushed.
At the only stoplight in town she pulled up to a red and caught Mitch’s sister Joanne’s Ford F-150 in her rearview. As soon as the light turned green, Joanne passed Aubrey on the right-hand shoulder, rolled down her window, and stuck her middle finger in the air.
“For crying out loud,” Aubrey muttered. Even Joanne, who knew her brother could be a real douchebag, believed his lies.
She drove by Reynolds Construction on the way to Mitch’s and considered breaking in again. Last time she’d forgotten a few things, including her favorite fringe jacket, which was still in the closet. She didn’t need it right now, but come fall she’d miss it. More than likely, though, Mercedes was still there. On most evenings she put in a couple of extra hours to suck up to Mitch and avoid her husband, who, on a scale from one to ten, ranked a nine in the asshole department. It wasn’t worth another run-in.
Aubrey didn’t see Mitch’s truck in the driveway when she pulled up. On rare occasions, though, he did park in the garage, probably to hide from an angry husband. Undeterred, she got out of the car and rang the bell.
Twice.
When Mitch didn’t answer, she peeked through the front window, working her way around the house. It didn’t appear that anyone was home. She continued to the back, peered inside the kitchen, and saw no sign of life there either.
Fine, she’d wait for him out by the pool. With all the lakes, creeks, and rivers in the area, she didn’t know why they needed a pool. But Mitch had insisted on it, arguing that it would make the house more marketable if they ever decided to sell. Admittedly, the pool was gorgeous; the whole backyard was. Mitch had spared no expense. Imported tile, dramatic lighting, a waterfall feature, a hot tub, brick decking, and enough exotic plants to open their own nursery. He’d also insisted on an outdoor kitchen with a four-thousand-dollar grill when they didn’t even use the range inside. With their busy lives, they’d either eaten at the coffee shop or takeout from nearby Grass Valley or Auburn.
She slipped off her sandals, walked to the pool’s edge, and dipped her foot in. The water was warm. Knowing Mitch, he heated it, even in summer. She heard a car pull up and prepared herself for a showdown. Putting her shoes back on, she headed to the front of the house, ready to let Mitch know in no uncertain terms that he’d better stop screwing with her livelihood.
But it wasn’t Mitch, it was Sally, his mother. She was rooting around in Mitch’s mailbox and glowered when she discovered she had company. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for Mitch. Do you know where he is?” Aubrey wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Sally had a tracking device on her son. She wasn’t a bad person, just overbearing and possessive.
“He’s out of town, not that it’s any of your business. You lost the privilege of knowing where my son is the second you broke his heart.”
It would be fruitless to argue with her because unlike Joanne, who knew Mitch’s foibles, Sally thought her son walked on water. “He and I have things to discuss.” Aubrey wanted to add that it wasn’t any of Sally’s business, but why bother starting up with Mitch’s mother? Aubrey and Sally had never been what you would call close, but there was no reason to antagonize the woman.
“Things to discuss.” Sally slanted an imperious brow. “Like how you stuck him with all the wedding bills?”
“Sally, you know we went halves. I lost just as much money as Mitch did.”
“You’re the one who called it off. As far as I’m concerned, you should have paid for the whole thing.”
Aubrey prayed for patience. “There’s more going on here than Mitch has led on.”
“Like the fact t
hat you ran off with Jace Dalton? Mitch didn’t have to tell me, I heard it all over town. You always did have eyes for that boy. I warned Mitch about you, and now you’ve gone and humiliated him.”
According to Sally, Aubrey had had eyes for every man in Dry Creek at one time or another. She probably thought Aubrey had the hots for Jimmy Ray too. “Stop being ridiculous; there’s nothing between Jace and me. When is Mitch coming home?”
“I have no idea.” Sally stuck her nose in the air.
Sally knew damned well when Mitch would be home. If Aubrey was laying odds in Reno, Mitch had gone on their Hawaii honeymoon trip early, the one Aubrey had paid for. And Sally knew his itinerary down to the second.
“Whatever, Sally. Just let him know I was here.”
“You can be sure I will.” Sally muttered something about Aubrey trespassing. “And tell your boyfriend Jace that if it was between him and the devil for sheriff, I’d vote for the devil.”
“I’ll be sure to let your son’s best friend know that.” Aubrey decided it was better to leave than argue any longer with Sally. She was going to believe the best of Mitch and the worst of Aubrey no matter what.
“Always a pleasure seeing you.” Aubrey got in her car and drove away.
Instead of going to Dry Creek Ranch, she went to Auburn to hit a drive-through. She hadn’t eaten since Cash had fixed them turkey sandwiches and was starved.
Cash. Now there was an enigma. He wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Originally, Aubrey had concluded that he was a curmudgeon with a drinking problem. But alcohol didn’t appear to be an issue. For good measure, she’d inhaled him while they’d worked on Ellie’s walls. Just soap and the clean outdoors, which smelled distractingly good.
He did have complications, however, starting with his daughter. Besides that, Aubrey had a sneaking suspicion leaving the FBI hadn’t been his idea. Even if he had quit, Aubrey sensed it wasn’t an amicable parting. She’d wanted to ask him about it but had gotten the distinct impression the topic was off the table. She was actually surprised he had shared as much as he had about Ellie’s mother. Cash didn’t exactly seem like an open book. He did, however, have a fantastic cover; she’d give him that. He was even better-looking than Jace, who was hard to beat. Objectively speaking, Sawyer was probably the most handsome of the three cousins, but too pretty for her taste. Cash had that rough-around-the-edges appearance. Rugged, chiseled, and square-jawed.
Aubrey got her food, parked under a shady tree, and ate. Her mother texted and Aubrey ignored it, knowing it would be all about Mitch and what a good “provider” he was and how Aubrey should take him back. Aubrey had had her fill of Mothers for Mitch today.
She threw away her wrappers in the garbage and headed for home. Maybe she’d take a dip in the creek and catch up on invoicing. So far, nothing had come of her new Houzz profile and she could use a few checks to tide her over. Her savings wouldn’t cover her forever. If she didn’t hear anything in a few days, she’d check in with her friend about the Vegas developer.
No one appeared to be around at Cash’s cabin, she noted as she drove up their shared driveway. Now, while she had relative privacy, would be a good time to take that swim. She rushed into the house, changed into a bathing suit, and waded waist deep into the water. Unlike Mitch’s pool, it was cold, making her teeth chatter. She stood there, waiting to get used to the frigid temperature, before dunking her head in. The creek was full, and in spots she couldn’t touch her toes to the bottom without the water going over her head.
When they were kids, they used to float in inner tubes they got from the Gas Stop in Dry Creek. The owner would sell the old tubes to them for a buck and they’d spend the bulk of the summer hanging out at the creek, tubing and swimming.
She was floating on her back, looking up at the sun, when she heard a truck engine. Cash’s SUV. Two doors slammed, and she heard the squeak of the cabin’s screen door swinging. She submerged her head again and when she came up with a splash, Cash was standing at the edge of the footbridge.
“How’s the water?” he called to her.
“Cold but refreshing.” She wondered if he wanted to join her, but before she could invite him in, he turned away and headed inside his cabin without saying a word.
Either he was back to being moody or not feeling particularly friendly this evening. Confounded, Aubrey went back to floating.
Chapter 7
Cash wished he could’ve joined Aubrey in the creek or at least seen more of her in the bikini she had on. But it was time for him to have a talk with Ellie. She’d been moping around ever since they got to Jace’s and had avoided him throughout dinner. If they were going to coexist, they needed to come to an understanding.
First, though, he wanted to explain that he hadn’t abandoned her twelve years ago, despite what she might think.
He went inside the cabin, the scent of fresh paint still thick in the air. It was better than the musty odor that had clung to the place like mildew.
“Hey, Ellie.” He tapped on her bedroom door.
“I’m going to bed.”
It was only a little past seven, but he supposed she was still operating on East Coast time. “I thought we could have a talk.”
“I’m too tired,” Ellie said, and he rolled his eyes because she was probably on that damned smartphone of hers.
The cell was one of many things they had to talk about. He didn’t mind if she was communicating with her friends in Boston, but there had to be rules and boundaries. Cyberspace could be a dangerous place for a twelve-year-old.
“Why don’t you take a nap and then we’ll talk?” Cash decided it was a good compromise. The kid wanted him to cave, but he wasn’t going to do it. He had twenty-four years on Ellie; he could out stubborn her.
She didn’t respond, which didn’t surprise him. In an hour they’d have their discussion. Cash decided to spend the next sixty minutes tidying up. Priming Ellie’s walls—or perhaps seeing Aubrey’s cabin—had motivated him to organize. Tomorrow, he planned to work on the shed and get his old case files out of the house. Then he’d go to work on the leaky toilet.
In the meantime, the bathroom could use a cleaning. On a hook behind the door, he found the sweater Ellie was so attached to. It was stretched and stained and smelled like a combination of fish and barbecue. He stuck it in the washer with a load of dirty laundry, even though he should’ve thrown the damned thing out and bought her a new one.
A car pulled up while he was in the kitchen, hunting up scouring powder. It was a little late for a visitor, at least by country standards. Cash went out to the front porch and found a familiar Ford sedan parked in his driveway.
Calvin Sullivan, known as Sully to everyone at the Bureau, alighted from the car and flipped up his aviators. “So this is Dry Creek Ranch?”
“This is it,” Cash said, surprised his former colleague had made the trip.
“I expected something a little more, uh, ranchy.” Sully looked up at the cabin, then turned slightly and stared off into the fields. “Where are the cows?”
“It’s past their bedtime.” Cash brushed away a few fallen leaves from a lawn chair and offered Sully a seat. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” His gut told him this wasn’t a welfare check or even a social call. Sully was wearing a suit and his wing-tips were freshly shined. A G-man to the core. Even though they’d been good friends in the Bureau, there was no question in Cash’s mind where Sully’s loyalties lay.
“Can’t I just say hi to an old friend?”
Cash cocked a brow. “You always were a bullshit artist, Sully. Hang on while I get us a couple of drinks.” He fetched two beers from the fridge, popped the caps, considered glassware and just as quickly rejected the idea before returning to the porch. “How’s Candy? Bet she misses me.” He handed Sully one of the bottles.
“She’s pissed at you.” Sully took a long drag of his beer a
nd wiped his mouth with his hand. “She liked it when you had my back.”
Like you had mine? Ah, hell, it wasn’t Sully’s fault Cash got fired. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own. “Send her and the kids my love. We all caught up now?”
“Stop being an asshat, Dalton.” Sully glanced out over Dry Creek Ranch and lingered on the creek. “You can fish from the porch.”
“And I do. And on evenings like this, I watch the sunset,” Cash said, taking a pull on his drink. It tasted good, like a hot summer night. “It’s something out here.”
Sully rose, walked to the edge of the porch, rested his elbows on the railing, and stared out over the western horizon. “I see what you mean.” The sky was streaked in bloodred, purple, and blue. In an hour, the sun would dip below the mountains, leaving shadows across the range, and then the stars would start to fill the sky. Hundreds of them. “You know you could come back if you truly wanted to.”
That’s right, all Cash had to do was adjust his attitude. Wasn’t that what his boss had said in that thick Texas drawl of his right before he told Cash to pack his desk and use all his vacation time? With 365 days accrued on the books, Cash took the words for what they were: a verbal pink slip.
Sully sat down again. “We’re not superheroes, Dalton. Sometimes the bad guys get one over on us. Live with it.”
That was the problem: Cash couldn’t. Not when innocent lives were taken because they’d made an epically bad call. He clasped his hands behind his head, leaned back in his lawn chair, and watched the colors of the sunset grow more vivid.
“Sully,” he finally said, “I know you didn’t drive all the way from San Francisco to tell me I could have my job back.” Other than a sympathy card when Grandpa Dalton died, Cash hadn’t heard from Sully since turning in his badge.
“I came for the fresh air.” Sully took a deep breath and slowly let the air out of his lungs. “A guy could get used to this.” He returned his gaze to the fields where Grandpa Dalton used to run his cattle. “How much does a place like this go for?”