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A Reference to Murder

Page 22

by Kym Roberts


  “It was another PR stunt. He was setting the scene. He'd drugged Dalton at the bar; that's what made him act the way he did. Dalton's a gentleman just like his brother, he'd never act like that on his own. And then Erik put Dalton up in a cabin just to stir the suspicions a little more. I knew about the drink and learned about the cabin when I made him take me to Wyatt’s grave. But I didn’t know where Dalton was holed up.

  “I even helped Erik at the bar, but I didn't know he took Dalton's phone. I wasn't there. I think he was carrying it around so that it would ping in different areas throughout town or something. I don't know. He was the master at setting up a scam.”

  She turned off the ignition and pulled out the keys. “Stay in the car until I come around to get you.” She eased out of the vehicle backward, facing me the entire time. I thought she might flinch when she hit the gravel in bare feet, but she had no reaction at all. She never took her eyes off me as she rounded the vehicle and approached the passenger side. Her muted instructions came through my closed window. “Open the door.”

  I opened the door and was about to step out when she told me to get her shoes. Her red lace shoes. It's kind of humbling when you realize your killer is a better-dressed person than you are.

  I handed her the shoes and she put them on one at a time. I knew I had to keep her talking, look for the opportunity to take advantage of her weakness or die trying. My stomach rolled and acted like it was about to heave my last meal in her direction.

  I asked her another question that had gone unanswered. “Who threw me into Twisted Mister’s pen?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I can only guess that you ended up ticking off Pierce, and he had one of his hands toss you over.”

  “Is Pierce Brown drugging his bulls?”

  The smile that spread across her face reminded me of those Halloween masks that turned a happy expression into horror. “Is Texas called the Lone Star state?” She asked.

  I didn’t have an answer as she waved me out of the truck, but I had another question when the door closed with a thud.

  “Why Dalton? Why'd you set him up for both murders? You know how much he and Wyatt loved each other.”

  “Wyatt's body had been buried for eight years and no one found it. I never expected you and Scarlet to find the graves. I was going to dump the gun and the book in the ocean, but once the graves were exposed, I had to do something fast. That’s when Dalton called me and told me he’d lost his phone and had ordered a new one. He gave me the address to the cabin just in case there was an emergency with his parents. I knew he'd left his backpack in Scarlet's trailer and I hurried over to her trailer to get it. Dalton became my only option. That’s when I saw the reporter breaking into the trailer. When she came out empty handed, it was my opportunity to get in and grab his backpack and then take all three items up to his cabin when he was due to check out.”

  She looked at me as if her story made complete sense. She had no other option, or so she said. “It was the only way.” She waved her gun toward the path and I began walking back toward the gravesites I’d sworn to never visit again. I could think of a whole bunch of different ways to handle the situation, and none of them involved setting up Dalton…or killing me.

  We pushed through the brush and passed the spot where her heel had been. It and most of the trash were gone, and I only hoped the police lab found her DNA on it somehow and linked it back to Taylor. It would be too late for me, but at least she wouldn’t be getting away with murder.

  By the time we reached the grave sites, my heart was in my throat. Sweat was dripping down my back and down the sides of my face. My shirt was soaked clean through. I swallowed down the bile threatening to spew from my stomach with a large gulp.

  “Turn around,” she ordered. Taylor was done playing games. Done talking. My only consolation was that she didn't look much better than I must. Her beautiful dress was wet and stuck to different parts of her curves, making it bunch in all the wrong places, and her hair was frizzing.

  But the most frightening thing I saw was the teenage girl who'd followed us down the path. I didn't know how she’d gotten there, or when she’d appeared, but it could not be good for her to be in this position. The very last thing I wanted was for Aubrey to die with her camera up to her eye.

  “Taylor, you don't have to do this.” I tried to reason, but Taylor wanted no part of it. Her eyes had dulled as if acceptance of the deed she was about to commit seeped in.

  “If I don't want to go to jail, I do. I'm sorry.” She raised the gun.

  Aubrey yelled, “Stop!”

  Shock caused a spark of life to return to Taylor's eyes as she swung the gun around toward the young girl standing behind her.

  “No!” I charged Taylor and smashed down on her forearm with everything I had, striking the arm that held the gun the way Mateo had taught me. The weapon discharged with a loud explosion close to my ears before it flew out of her hand and skittered across the ground. She swung at me with her left, but I blocked it with my right and grabbed her. We spun and twisted, tripping across the rocky dirt, each of us trying to get the upper hand when suddenly, Taylor fell backward—taking me with her. She landed on her back, knocking the air from her lungs with a less than feminine grunt and me on top of her.

  My ribs screamed, but I knew I couldn't just lie there. My opportunity had arisen, and it was time to take advantage of the chance I was given. I reared back with my right arm and punched her in the face. Pain vibrated through my hand, up my arm, and through my body. I looked at her, huffing and puffing for everything I was worth, and realized I'd knocked her out cold—with just one punch.

  It was only then that I realized where we were. We were six feet under—in Wyatt's grave.

  I pushed myself to my feet and saw a camera recording my face. “Get me out of here!” I yelled and two strong arms lifted me up from behind.

  “It's okay, Charli. I'm here.”

  I turned and looked up into Mateo’s milk chocolate eyes. Nothing ever looked so delicious.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Sometimes nosy teenagers are a blessing. Like when you're being driven to a remote area by a crazed maniac and a teenager sees you pass The Cowboy Ranch. Aubrey knew something was up and if she hadn't followed, Mateo would have arrived after I'd been shot and fallen backward in a pre-dug grave.

  Not only had she saved my life, but she'd recorded everything, which cleared me of having to wait to give my statement. I was able to get a ride home in a police car immediately so I could take a shower. There were some things I could not tolerate. Lying in a grave was one of them.

  Daddy, along with Scarlet, Joellen, and Mary, were at The Barn when I arrived. Apparently, my call had gotten through to Scarlet after all and Taylor just hadn't noticed the time stamp of the call. She and Mateo had listened until Mateo grabbed her phone and hopped in his patrol car. Mary had also received a call from Aubrey, and Mary put her daughter on a three-way call with Mateo when the girl refused to stop following us.

  Mary had been pacing and cussing up a storm for the past hour about her flighty girl who was going to end up dead on the side of the road if she wasn't careful. I kind of agreed, but then again, I wouldn't be standing in The Barn refusing hugs if it hadn't been for Aubrey.

  Scarlet helped me get my clothes off and threw them in the washer for me as I stood under the hottest stream of water I could tolerate. When I was dried and dressed in a jean skirt and a T-shirt that read, Book ’em, Dano, I walked out with my hair in a towel. Scarlet had me sit at the bar in the kitchen, with a pillow underneath me on the stool, since I'd forgotten my donut in Taylor's truck. She cleaned out the wound on my right arm and a few new scratches I'd received from Taylor. Then she went about fixing my curls and applied my makeup.

  I might have questioned all the special treatment, but I was still in a daze from my morning excursion through crazy land. It was a good excuse to never date again; I like my sanity.

&n
bsp; “Are you ready?”

  “Ready for what?” I asked.

  “For the closing ceremonies.”

  I immediately began to whine. “Oh, Scarlet, I don’t want to go to that. Really, you can go on without me.”

  But Scarlet was having none of it. She needed me there and somehow she even got my daddy to guilt me into going to represent the store like I’d planned. I allowed Scarlet to put my cowgirl boots on my feet and then I was herded out to her car. We drove to The Ranch with Scarlet filling me in on everything that had happened while I was in the shower. I mostly nodded my head; it was all I had to give.

  Scarlet drove her teeny two-seater BMW down the sidewalk at The Ranch and parked next to the door.

  “Are you kidding me? Someone's going to give you a ticket,” I told her.

  “Itll be worth it.”

  I wasn’t sure I agreed, but it was her ticket. I was just along for the ride.

  I grabbed the throw pillow Id been reduced to using and we went into the arena. Jessie and Daisy were standing at the ticket window. Jessie was smooching on Daisy’s neck and looked up as we approached. Scarlet winked and I elbowed her, regretting the move almost as soon as I did it.

  “That’s her husband,” I told Scarlet.

  Daisy grinned. “Darned tootin’.”

  We walked on through the gate and down to the seats Taylor had roped off for Scarlet. It was kind of ironic how well shed taken care of Scarlet while hanging Dalton out to dry for her crimes. Sly wasn’t in his seat, as he’d taken an early flight home to be with his wife and babies. I couldn't wait to meet them next year.

  Dalton was down in the arena with a bunch of the other riders standing around, shooting the breeze. He’d already received his belt buckle and his trophy along with a large cardboard check that’d apparently already been donated to The Ranch in his brother’s name. Most of the crowd had made their way out of the arena, except for the locals and a few stragglers seeking autographs. We’d barely gotten semi-comfortable in our seats when the lights dimmed and the crowd hushed. I could make out a small stage being moved out into the middle of the arena and then something was placed on top of it.

  Cade’s voice came over the intercom. I couldn’t see him in the arena, but he was here—somewhere. "Ladies and Gentleman, we want to thank you for joining us at the twenty-second annual Cowboy Ranch Invitational. The residents at The Ranch and all the cowboys and cowgirls who receive treatment here, appreciate all your support. You have truly made a difference in their lives. Thank you to our sponsors and stock contractors who donated their time and bulls to make this event possible. Thank you to our hundreds of volunteers, as we could not pull off this event without you. We appreciate the hospitality of the local businesses and the donations they made to the cause.

  “But there’s one volunteer we want to give a special thank you. She’s been gone from Hazel Rock for over a decade….”

  I looked at Scarlet. She was grinning from ear-to-ear. “Oh Scarlet, please tell me he’s not doing this.”

  Scarlet winked and a spotlight hit me in the face. I squinted against the lights and put my hand up to block it from completely blinding me. Scarlet pulled my hand down.

  “I’d like you to meet Charli Rae Warren. To the locals she’s known as Princess, to people who come and shop in our town, she’s known as The Book Barn Princess.”

  Jessie yelled from behind me. “I thought that was the armadillo’s name!”

  A laugh filled the arena and my face heated.

  “Well, we are blessed with two barn princesses here in Hazel Rock, and probably quite a few more in the crowd. But Charli came back to us a couple months ago and when she heard that the Invitational was still going strong, she organized the local businesses in our town to donate one day of sales to the cause. Ten businesses signed up and created more revenue than we ever dreamed possible. So, we just want to welcome our princess back home properly. Charli, if you could come down center stage.”

  “Scarlet, I’m gonna kill you,” I whispered as she helped me stand up. I walked over to gate where they'd put steps leading down into the arena. A rodeo clown met me and helped me down onto the soft dirt floor, and we walked over to the stage as a spotlight followed our progress.

  As we approached I saw the most beautiful throne sitting in the middle of the stage that I had ever seen, and I knew exactly who’d made it. The six-foot tall chair back was framed in hand-carved dark antique walnut in the shape of a six-prong crown. The arms were also hand-carved animal paws that curved around toward the matching legs. The plush fabric on the back and on the seat, had been removed and replace with something even more gorgeous—pink and white book bindings. And dangling off to one side of the arm was my pink donut.

  I looked around for my father but couldn’t find him anywhere. The clown put my donut in place, and I sat on the throne as some of my favorite country songs began to play.

  “Our hats are off to you, Princess!”

  Three clowns began to dance to the music. Their faces were painted, and their hair was dyed. Their clothes were baggy and their shoes were tied. Not one had on a pair of cowboy boots. The crowd was clapping and whooping with the beat of the music.

  The first one I recognized was Cade. Taller than the rest he came up and plopped his hat on my head and kissed my hand. The man had the moves of a Casanova; the women in the crowd whooped it up like they were watching one of those male strip shows.

  When another clown jumped up and tossed Cade’s hat to the wind, Cade danced off and there was my daddy in front of me dancing to “Wild One” by Faith Hill. It brought back memories of dancing on his boot tips when I was a little girl, and I wanted to dance with him so badly I could hardly stand it. Then he bowed out and the next clown came up.

  The last one had more sass and salsa, but his hair threw me off—a thick, straight line was shaved on the left side of his head. I didn’t know anyone with that bold of a haircut. I stared at his face as he moved to a rock beat that I thought I’d remembered hearing from a certain marked vehicle. It was only when I got a look at his rich chocolate eyes that I recognized Mateo.

  And I laughed until I thought my tears were from the pain in my ribs, and not my emotions getting the best of me.

  Mateo joined my other two clowns, clapping and dancing and acting goofier than I'd ever seen the three of them act in public before. They began pulling spectators from the crowd and soon the entire arena was full of people dancing and having a good time. Granted, I wanted to be with them, but I had to admit that it was refreshing to be the one to sit back and be entertained.

  Scarlet came by with Dalton on her arm, and I could tell it was the beginning of something great—if they could survive his traveling schedule. Dalton yelled, “Thank you, Princess!” And that was that. There was no way anyone in Hazel Rock, Texas was ever going to call me Charli again.

  A little later I sat on the back patio at The Barn and Daddy brought out two bowls of sliced peaches and Blue Bell vanilla ice cream and a third bowl just for Princess—the armadillo who trailed after him. I took my bowl and set Princess’s down on the ground between our chairs, her dessert of blue berries and blackberries would have been tempting if I didn’t have something better. Princess began snuffling with her snout and clanking her hard shell against the stoneware bowl as we listened to the frogs and the crickets while enjoying summertime in Hazel Rock.

  “What’s going to happen to Pierce Brown and the Starlight Corral?”

  “Mateo already has one suspect in custody. The vet tech turned himself in this evening and gave up the name of the guy who tossed you over the rail. Animal Control took the tech’s statement about drugging the animals and will be serving a search warrant on Starlight Corral in the morning. I imagine the bulls will be confiscated. The Championship Bull Rider’s Association has also been notified to take away his permits. Pierce has got his hands full with the legal troubles.”

  “Good. Those bulls don
’t deserve that. I imagine we won’t see much of Mateo anytime soon.”

  Dad smiled. “Nope, that boy will be putting in some hours on this cluster.”

  “What happened to his hair?” I asked.

  My dad nearly choked on a peach as he chuckled. “When you dialed Scarlet’s phone, she put it on speaker so she could finish cutting his hair. But Mateo recognized you were in trouble before Scarlet did and as she was bringing the razor back, he jumped out of that chair.”

  “Holy crap! That was an accident?”

  “All he cared about was getting to you in time.” My dad had a certain sparkle in his eye.

  I let that sink in for a bit before I answered. “I’m sure Mateo is the type of man who would do that if anyone was in trouble.”

  Daddy shook his head with a smile. “Maybe so, Princess. I’m just glad you’re home safe.”

  “Me too, Daddy. Me too.”

  Then I thought of my mom dropping that sign on his head. “Why do you think Mom dropped Eve’s Gate on Mateo’s head?” I asked.

  “Your mom had terrible aim, Princess. I think she was trying to hit Taylor.”

  We both started to laugh, then looked at each other…and licked our ice cream bowl clean as we thought about my mom.

  If you enjoyed A REFERENCE TO MURDER be sure not to miss the first book in Kym Roberts’s Book Barn Mystery series!

  When kindergarten teacher Charli Rae Warren hightailed it out of Hazel Rock, Texas, as a teen, she vowed to leave her hometown in the dust. A decade later, she’s braving the frontier of big hair and bigger gossip once again . . . But this time, she’s saddled with murder!

  Charli agrees to sell off the family bookstore, housed in a barn, and settle her estranged dad’s debt—if only so she can ride into the sunset and cut ties with Hazel Rock forever. But the trip is extended when Charli finds her realtor dead in the store, strangled by a bedazzled belt. And with daddy suspiciously MIA, father and daughter are topping the most wanted list . . .

 

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