by Brenda Mott
Miranda pretended not to see him, and squeezed into a nearby seat between two truck drivers, who gave her appreciative smiles. She smiled, too, then buried her face in one of the laminated menus tucked between salt and pepper shakers. As if she didn’t have the thing memorized.
“Miranda.” Kyle stood at her elbow. “How are you doing today?”
Not so hot.
“As good as can be expected,” she said.
“Come on back here, kiddo,” Tori interrupted, rescuing her. “I’ve got something to talk to you about.”
“Sure,” Miranda said, rising from the high stool. “Nice seeing you, Kyle.” She hurried after Tori, barely giving the guy a chance to answer.
Tori took her to a booth in the far corner where she and her aunts often did paperwork, or relaxed during their breaks. It was a given that the booth was the Lambert women’s, and customers rarely sat there.
“So, what’s up?” Miranda asked, once they were seated.
“I got to thinking,” Tori murmured, keeping her voice low, “that some of the truckers who come through here are pretty rough characters. A lot of them have served jail time, or know someone who has.” She looked around as though to make sure no one was listening. “I’ve been pumping them for information, seeing if they’ve heard anything or know anything, and it paid off.” Her green eyes sparkled with satisfaction. “I found one who knows Lonnie Masterson—well, sort of.”
“You didn’t.” A chill went up Miranda’s spine.
“Not only that, this guy—Earl—has a friend who’s still in prison. The friend heard Lonnie bragging about having sex with Jo Ella Jamison. Earl thinks Lonnie’s lying about not having killed her. He also thinks Lonnie has some money stashed away from his last robbery.”
“Oh my God. Then that could mean Lonnie might’ve had the money to hire someone on the outside to kill Shannon!” Miranda raked her hands through her hair.
“Simmer down, hon. I didn’t call you over here to upset you. I just thought I should tell you before I tell Lucas.”
“Earl knows Masterson…. He could be involved.”
“I don’t think Earl would be desperate enough to…take care of someone for Lonnie. He’s really cleaned up his act.”
“Anyway, it’s all hypothetical. Lucas usually stops for coffee, but he didn’t today, which means he’ll likely come by for lunch.”
“If I see him, I’ll tell him.”
Tori shrugged. “Whatever you want to do.” She laid her hand on Miranda’s. “Just watch your back. Not only because there’s a killer out there, but because I don’t want to see you get hurt. Lucas broke your heart once, and I’m afraid he’ll do it again.”
“I appreciate that, Tori, but you don’t have to worry. Lucas and I aren’t seeing each other.”
“Okay,” her friend said, in a tone that clearly let Miranda know she didn’t believe her. “I’m dating my man with a grain of salt, believe you me. And most times a slice of lime and a shot of tequila.” She slid from the booth. “See you later.”
Miranda remained seated. Funny how easily Tori could read her, and any situation involving her. That was just it. Miranda, too, was afraid Lucas would hurt her again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHEN MIRANDA GOT HOME, she found Paige’s truck in the yard. How had it gotten there? But before she could storm inside and give her mother a butt chewing, a note taped to the mailbox caught Miranda’s eye. Thinking it was from her mom, she snatched it off. The paper was damp, so it must’ve been outside since before the sun had risen that morning. How had she missed it?
Miranda frowned, then unfolded it and read: “You’d better leave things well enough alone, or you won’t like the consequences.”
She shivered. The note was made up of letters cut from newspapers and magazines, then glued to the plain white sheet. Like something on a TV show.
Realizing she shouldn’t be handling the paper, Miranda held it gingerly by one corner and went inside the house, where she put it in an envelope. “Mom!” she called. “Where are you?”
No answer. Miranda made her way down the hall and found Paige sleeping in the guest room. The doctor had told them it would take her awhile to sleep off the sedatives he’d given her, plus he’d prescribed some Xanax to take as needed, to help relieve her stress and panic attacks.
Quietly closing the guest room door, Miranda went to the living room and dialed the sheriff’s office. Within a short while, Lucas arrived. She gave him the envelope, and with a pair of tweezers, he carefully extracted the note.
“Who do you think did it?” Miranda asked.
“Could be anyone. It might be genuine, or it might be a prank. You’d be surprised at the nuts who come out of the woodwork when a crime is committed. The best thing to do is take it in to dust for prints.” He’d already had Garrett and Frank collect fingerprints from Miranda, Paige, Chet and Sam for process of elimination.
“How soon will you know anything?”
“Well, it’s not like you see on television. I can dust the note right away, but it’ll take time to run the prints.”
She nodded.
“Did you happen to stop by the diner and talk to Tori just now?”
“No, why?”
“She found something out.” Miranda told him about Earl the truck driver and his connections to Lonnie Masterson.
Lucas pursed his lips. “You two need to step back from this. Let me handle it.” He tapped her nose with his forefinger. “You’re going to get into trouble and wind up hurt.”
For a moment she stood there, staring at him. How long had it been since he’d tapped her on the nose that way, a gesture she’d once found endearing? “I’m not a child, Lucas, and neither is Tori.”
He grumbled something, then took out his notepad and scribbled in it. “Guess I’d better go over to the diner and get this firsthand from Tori.” He paused. “How’s your mother doing, by the way?”
“Glad to be out of the hospital, but she wants to go home. I practically had to sit on her to get her to agree to stay with me for a while.”
He smiled.
“Shannon’s going to be proud of you when she comes home.”
“Do you really believe that—that she’s going to come home?” He didn’t answer right away, and Miranda added, “Tell me the truth, Lucas.”
He shuffled his feet on the porch boards. “I’m not giving up. Shannon could still be out there, alive.”
Held against her will by some…
Better than being dead.
“Have they identified that woman over in Cameron County yet?”
Lucas shook his head. “Hopefully, someone will come forward soon.”
“That’s awful.” Miranda became lost in thought about the way they’d all been frantically searching for Shannon, while another woman lay in a morgue, with no one at all, apparently, looking for her.
“Seems like you’ve had Kyle out there searching most every day,” Lucas stated.
“Lucas,” Miranda said, staring at him, “I can’t believe you’re still dwelling on this.”
“On what?” he asked defensively.
“On Kyle.”
He scowled. “It’s just that I don’t trust his motive in being at your ranch, or the Rocking W, every minute of the day.”
“He’s not here every minute. Lucas, what is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m just seeing things a lot more clearly than you are.”
“Oh, and what exactly are you seeing?” She folded her arms in front of her chest.
“That Kyle is exactly the kind of man you need.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sure. He’s a single dad, looking to round out his family. His kid’s really cute, by the way. I met him the other day in the grocery store with his mom. And you—You’ve got your barrel racing students. You’re great with kids and horses. Kyle’s good with kids and dogs. Hell, you’re practically already the Brady Bunch.”
Miranda w
anted to shake him. “I’m only going to say this one more time. Kyle and I are just friends. I do not need a man in my life. I’m perfectly happy with things the way they are. But whether or not I want a man—any man—in my life is my business and my business only. You got that?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smirked. “But I think the cowgirl doth protest too much.”
“Do you want me to call my dogs?”
“Are you threatening an officer of the law? Because I could handcuff you and run you in for that.”
If she didn’t know better, Miranda would think he was trying not to smile.
“Tell your mother I hope she gets to feeling better real soon.”
With that, he tipped his cowboy hat and left Miranda standing there with her heart racing, and her mind going places it shouldn’t.
LUCAS DROVE BACK TO THE office, his mind not at all where it should be. He wished things could’ve been different. Why did he have to be the son of a man who was utterly worthless?
Back at his office, Lucas checked in with Frank and Mac, who were on duty for swing shift.
“State police got back the lab results on the DNA for that blood you found on the rocks near the Rocking W,” Frank said, “and from Shannon’s saddle.”
“And?”
“It’s Shannon’s all right,” he said solemnly.
“Well, I guess we figured that.” Lucas sighed. “Thanks for letting me know, Frank.” He went to his desk and looked over the report, anyway. The state police had sent in strands from Shannon’s hairbrush for a mitochondrial DNA test, and Lucas had pulled some strings, with a guy at the lab who owed him a favor, to put a rush on it. He’d needed to know for sure.
Lucas truly was beginning to think that Shannon was dead. Still, he wasn’t about to give up. If there was even the smallest possibility that she could be alive, he’d bring her home.
And if she wasn’t…well, he’d bring her home, anyway.
BY TUESDAY, PAIGE FELT much better rested—and even had her appetite back. She insisted on driving home to the Rocking W in her own truck, which Chet and Sam had initially—against their will—driven out to Miranda’s ranch, she’d later learned. Working the riding stable would keep her mother’s mind busy as well as her hands.
To keep herself from feeling lonely the first night Paige was gone, Miranda called Tori to see if she could get away and go to the Silver Spur. Her friend had been working the diner that day, and assured Miranda she’d be off by six. By eight o’clock, the two of them walked into the place wearing their cowgirl best, which for Tori included a sparkly, silver Western shirt, big hoop earrings and white cowboy boots. Even on a weeknight, the honky-tonk was jumping.
“Are you sure you’re not tired of this place?” Miranda asked, thinking—not for the first time—how dull her wardrobe was compared to her friend’s. “We can go someplace else.”
“Nah. This is close to home,” Tori said. “Besides, it’s nice to be on this side of the bar for once. So, do you want to sit at a table?”
“The bar. That way we’ll likely see and talk to more people.”
“Okay.” Tori slid onto a bar stool, and Tina, her boss, walked over to serve them.
“What’ll it be, dolls?” Blond and curvy, Tina was living proof that size twelve wasn’t fat. She had a husky voice and thick, curly hair, and a way of winking at you that made you believe she was your best friend in the world. Tonight she wore her hair pulled into a twist at the back of her head, and hoop earrings like Tori’s. Her long nails were painted copper, and she wore a frilly blouse, unbuttoned far enough to reveal ample cleavage.
“You can get me a kiss,” one of the cowboys at the bar said, making smooching noises at Tina.
“Simmer down, cowboy,” Tori said, elbowing him out of the way as she got comfortable on her stool. “Give me a Coors Light, Tina.” She looked at Miranda. “Make that two.”
“Coming right up. And you—” she pointed at the young cowboy “—mind your manners. I reserve the right not to serve drunks and fools.”
“Aah, you’re no fun.” The cowboy teetered on his stool, but managed not to fall off.
Miranda chuckled.
“So,” Tori said, once the two of them had their beers. “Where do you want to start?”
“How about that cute drunk sitting next to you?”
Tori cast a discreet glance in his direction. “You’ve got to be kidding. I know that guy—he’s a regular. But he’s three sheets to the wind.”
“Exactly. There’s nobody looser lipped than a drunk.”
Tori raised an eyebrow. “I suppose you’ve got a point there.” She swiveled her stool around, and Miranda slid off of hers, leaving her purse to hold her spot.
Beer in hand, she stepped up next to Tori’s seat, beside the cowboy. “You look familiar,” she said. “I know I’ve seen you in here before.”
He drew back, looking her up and down. “Well, hello, pretty lady. Yeah, I come in here now and then. Ain’t that right, Tori?”
“You bet, Jack. Now, then and whatever’s in between.”
He laughed and held out his hand. “Name’s Jack McQuaid, darlin’.” He took Miranda’s hand, turned it over and planted a kiss on her knuckles. “What’s yours, gorgeous?”
He looked barely old enough to drink. “Sally,” Miranda said, causing Tori to choke.
“Well, Sally,” Jack said, tipping his cowboy hat to the back of his head. “You must be tired, because you’ve been running through my mind all night long.”
Oh, brother! “Is that right?” Miranda asked. “Well, maybe you can help me out with something.”
“Anything you ask…it’s yours. Including me.” He spread both arms wide, and nearly fell off the stool this time. On the other side of him, a cowboy Miranda recognized guffawed.
“Jack, you’re too drunk to sit up straight, much less do anything else.” He shook hands with Miranda. “It’s good to see you in here, Miranda.” His family owned the local feed store. “I’m sure sorry to hear about your sister.”
“Thanks, Darren. Listen, that’s what I was going to ask Jack about. We think Shannon’s disappearance has something to do with Lonnie Masterson, that guy who murdered Jo Ella Jamison. Do you know anything about him? Did you hear or see anything the night Jo Ella was murdered?”
“Ah, hell,” Jack said, teetering upright on his stool once more. He grasped the edge of the bar for balance. “That no-good SOB. They ought to throw away the key, you ask me.”
“You know him?” Miranda felt her hopes rising.
“No.” Jack shook his head. “But anyone who would rape and kill a woman…well, let’s put it this way. I’d like to have five minutes alone with him. Wouldn’t have to worry about no trial.” He took a healthy swig from his longneck for emphasis.
“How about you, Darren?” Tori asked. “You were here that night, weren’t you? Did you see anything?”
“Yeah, I was here. But all I saw was Jo Ella dancing with that feller. And your sister, she danced with him, too,” Darren added.
Miranda shivered.
“I told all this to Sheriff Blaylock,” Darren said. “Isn’t he still investigating?”
“He is,” Miranda said, “but Tori and I thought we’d just double-check with some of the folks who hang out here. Maybe see if Lucas missed anything.”
“Aah…Lucas.” Darren smiled. “So, you’re still on a first name basis with the sheriff. I was only sixteen when he left you standing at the altar, but I still remember thinking what a fool he was. I would have thought you wouldn’t even be speaking to him anymore.”
Miranda groped for a reply, but Tori saved her the trouble.
“Lucas, Sheriff Blaylock…what’s the difference, Darren? What we need to know is if you saw anything that night. How about you, Jack?”
“Aah, don’t ask him.” Darren waved his hand dismissively. “His brain’s been pickled.”
“Screw you, buddy,” Jack said with a grin. “I did see something. I’m pre
tty sure I told the sheriff, but I’d had a few when he came around…No, I must’ve told him.”
Miranda’s pulse picked up speed. “What’s that?”
“I saw Shannon leave the bar just after Jo Ella went out with that Masterson fella. Another guy started to go outside, too. But then he just looked out at the parking lot and ducked back inside.”
Miranda exchanged a surprised glance with Tori. “Who was the other guy?” Tori asked.
“Don’t know. I’d never seen him in here before.”
“What did he look like?” Miranda pressed.
Jack shrugged. “Not as good as you,” he said, his gaze a bit unfocused. “I don’t know. Just some fella in a ball cap. Blue jeans. That’s about all I remember. The only reason I remember that much is because he bumped into me as I was going to the men’s room…Yeah, I’m sure I told Blaylock.”
“So, he was going out the side exit,” Tori said, again looking at Miranda. No one had known what door Jo Ella had used that night. Only that Shannon had gone outside and seen her struggling with Lonnie Masterson.
“That’s right,” Jack said, looking triumphant. “Only he came back in, like I said.”
“You couldn’t have told the sheriff,” Tori said, “or we’d know this already.”
“Told the sheriff what?”
Miranda jumped as Lucas tapped her on the shoulder. He held her purse up. “Do you always leave your stuff lying around where anyone can grab it?”
She snatched it from him. “How did you…? Never mind.”
“What were you talking about?” Lucas’s gaze pierced Jack’s.
“Aah, um, nothing, Sheriff Blaylock,” Jack stammered. “I was just saying as how I saw this one fella the night Jo Ella Jamison disappeared, but he didn’t do nothing.”
“No? Then why are you talking about him?”
“They asked me if I’d seen anything interesting that night.” He gestured defensively at Tori and Miranda.
“So, did you?”
“Nah. Like I said, I just seen that one fella start to go out to the parking lot after Shannon Ward left. I only noticed it because I was going to the men’s room.”