“That doesn’t sound right,” she said, commiserating sweetly. “How rude.”
“Yeah. That is rude.” Jason cleared his throat. “Anyway, if you’re not seeing him, maybe we can get together. Tomorrow night?”
Sadie sighed. Well, this was a fine mess. Jason was handsome and had a great voice, but he’d tried to sleep with her and then dumped her thirteen years ago. What kind of self-respecting woman would go out with him again?
But she couldn’t refuse. Not in front of Truman. If she agreed to go out with Jason when she continually refused to accept Truman’s invitation, maybe he’d be pissed enough to leave her alone.
“I’d love to get together tomorrow night.” Sadie smiled. She’d be seen with Jason, people would quit talking about her and Truman, and Truman would finally get the idea that she was not interested. Then she’d end the date early. She was too old to fall for Jason’s slick ways. “I hear you’re some kind of artist?”
Truman calmly took a sip of his coffee. He picked up a leaflet from the table at his side. The brochure was all about the Big Bass Festival. He read it carefully, as if he didn’t already know every detail.
“Yeah,” Jason answered. “Maybe tomorrow night I can show you some of my work.”
“That would be great.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight.”
She remembered Tuesday night and the too-late realization that she should’ve taken her own car to meet Truman for dinner. “I can meet you somewhere. There’s no reason for you to go out of your way to pick me up.”
“No, I insist,” Jason said. “I have to drive right by the motel, anyway.”
“But…”
“I insist,” Jason said again.
Truman was listening closely, even though he tried to look like he couldn’t hear a word that was said. Ha. “Well, if you’re coming this way anyway… Eight it is.”
They said goodbye, and Sadie sighed as she hung up the phone. “It seems I have a date for tomorrow night,” she said, keeping her eyes on the books that were spread across the front counter. “Jason Davenport.”
“I thought you were busy,” Truman said nonchalantly as he perused the brochure.
“Change of plans.”
Truman returned the pamphlet to the table, tossed his almost-empty foam cup in the trash, and stood slowly. “Well, have fun. I’m going to grab some lunch.” As he pushed open the door, he flashed her a too-charming grin.
So much for breaking Truman’s heart.
It wasn’t fifteen minutes later that a young girl carrying a bulky knapsack walked through that same door, her eyes flitting this way and that.
“Can I help you?”
The girl was skittish. Not quite scared, but not exactly strong, either. One good “boo” would probably send her back out the door again. She didn’t look to be much older than Jennifer, and her long pale-brown hair had been pulled back into a loose ponytail. She was pretty enough, but wore no makeup. Her clothes were at least a size too big, baggy and nondescript.
“Can I help you?” Sadie asked again.
The girl looked Sadie in the eye. Maybe she wasn’t wimpy after all. Just cautious. There was something vaguely familiar about her, too, as if they’d met once, long ago.
“I’m looking for a job,” the girl said softly.
“Ever worked in a motel or a restaurant before?”
“Both.”
Sadie glanced heavenward and mouthed, “Thank you.”
“I need a place to stay, too,” the girl said quickly. “I’m new in town, and I don’t have much cash with me.”
“Room and board come with the job,” Sadie said. She’d just made that decision. “Can you start today? Now?”
Wide-eyed, the girl nodded.
Sadie smiled. “Great. What’s your name?”
“Kathy Carson.”
“I have a horrendous pink uniform upstairs with my name on it. It’s yours. We’ll take care of the paperwork later.”
The girl nodded and looked at Sadie with the saddest, greenest eyes. “Later is good for me.”
Sadie smiled at the timid girl. Kathy had the wary look of a woman who was hiding from something. Or someone. Sadie had become accustomed to seeing that look over the years. This could be the perfect job for Kathy.
Garth was a great place to hide.
It was late in the afternoon when Sadie finally caught up with her cousin. Jennifer had slept late, and then hit the occupied rooms for cleaning. She’d managed to stay out of Sadie’s way all day, and had even taken care of 104. She knew she was in big trouble, otherwise she would have run to Sadie for help.
When they’d been growing up, Jennifer, the baby, had been strictly hands off. After all, she was just a kid, and Sadie had been told countless times that she was supposed to know better.
They were both over twenty-one, now, and all bets were off.
Sadie stepped into the room where Jennifer sat at her vanity, carefully applying her makeup. She closed the door behind her. “More plans for the evening?” she asked softly.
Jen didn’t take her eyes off her own face in the mirror. “Just dinner with friends. Porter Manly is going to fill in for Conrad, since he still hasn’t shown up.”
Sadie leaned against the closed door. “We haven’t had a chance to talk about yesterday.”
Jennifer’s smile was wide and wicked. “Man, it was wild. We laughed about that all night. You two came out of the café looking like you’d just finished doing it right there on the counter.”
Sadie had been mad enough when she’d walked into the room, but that we laughed all night hit a tender cord, and her heartbeat and her anger revved up a bit.
“Nothing happened.”
“Yeah, right,” Jennifer said, returning her attention to her reflection.
“All you had to do was call Lillian and get her over here with the key,” Sadie said, almost calm. “One phone call.”
“Why didn’t you call her yourself?”
“I didn’t know where she was. You did.”
“I don’t hear Truman complaining,” Jennifer teased.
Sadie took a deep, calming breath. “I’m going to get you, Jen. I don’t know how, or when, but I’m going to make it my mission in life to embarrass you the way you embarrassed me.”
“I didn’t unbutton your uniform,” Jennifer argued, her grin staying in place. “And I didn’t button it up crooked, either. It’s not my fault you were embarrassed. You must’ve been in quite a hurry when you buttoned up.” She put her mascara down. “Besides, I don’t embarrass the way you do. Who sucked all the fun out of you, anyway? The guy you were supposed to get married to? That was years ago…”
“Leave Spencer out of this,” Sadie said softly.
Jennifer spun around and looked Sadie up and down. “I don’t know what you’re so riled up about. Truman has the hots for you, you have the hots for him. All I did was nudge things along a bit.”
“I do not have the hots for Truman!”
“Of course you do. You have for years. Everyone knows it.”
Everyone knows it. Her worst nightmare. “I’ll have you know, I have a date tomorrow night, and it’s not with Truman.”
“Oh, yeah? With who, then?”
If Jennifer knew who Sadie was going out with, she’d probably track Jason down and do something devious to ruin the evening. She’d set something up, of that Sadie had no doubt. “None of your business.”
Jennifer waved a dismissive hand. “Okay, so I was wrong. If you don’t want Truman, maybe I’ll go after him myself.” She arched her back, checking out young breasts that were molded in a snug blue sweater.
Sadie’s heart lurched. When it came to attracting men, she didn’t hold a candle to her little cousin. She knew it, and so did Jennifer. “Fine,” she said calmly.
“Fine?” Jennifer fluffed her blond hair. “You know, I could have had Truman ages ago, but he never seemed, I don’t know, very exciting. But the way he looked at you yesterd
ay when y’all walked out of the coffee shop, like he wanted to toss you up on the hood of his patrol car and nail you then and there…it was definitely very sexy.”
“He did not look like…”
“He did,” Jen said confidently.
“I can’t speak for anyone else, but I certainly don’t have the hots for any man in Garth. If you want Truman, please be my guest.”
“Sadie,” Jen said sharply, “you can tell me you don’t want Truman all you want, you can even stand there and give me permission to have at him myself. But you can’t convince me that he doesn’t want you.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Doesn’t matter. Guys don’t moon after women who don’t want them. Not for long, anyway. They aren’t built that way. Sooner or later, probably sooner, Truman will get tired of butting his head against a stone wall. Maybe when he starts looking around for a woman who’s more agreeable than you are, I’ll be there.”
Sadie shook her head. “There’s something wrong with you.”
“You think so?”
Something Sadie didn’t care to examine hurt. A sharp pang shot through her chest. Something low in her body rumbled. She recognized the reaction for what it was. Fear.
“Truman has been right under your nose for years, and you don’t find him attractive until you think I do. That’s sick.”
“So you do want him.”
“I didn’t say that.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes as she stood. “You know what your problem is, Sadie?”
“No, but I feel quite certain you’re going to tell me.”
“You think too much.” Jennifer grabbed her purse off the bed and walked toward the door Sadie blocked.
“That’s not a criticism I’m going to take seriously, coming from a woman who doesn’t think at all,” Sadie countered.
“I think,” Jennifer said, apparently not at all insulted. “But I also feel. These days you dissect every little thing until it doesn’t have any heart left.” She stopped before Sadie and posed, arms crossed, chin lifted. “Okay,” she said in a lowered voice. “Maybe I don’t have the hots for Truman, maybe I don’t want to be there to cushion the blow when he realizes you really don’t want to have anything to do with him. But he’s a nice guy, and I do like him.” She shook her head. “I just don’t want you to dissect the heart out of him. He deserves better than that.”
Sadie stepped aside and let her cousin open the door. She’d come to her cousin’s room thinking of revenge, and instead of feeling righteous and justified, she felt chastened and deflated.
“Truman knows exactly how I feel.”
“Please,” Jennifer scoffed as she headed for the stairs. “You don’t know how you feel.”
Sadie hadn’t had anyone to really talk to in so long, she’d forgotten what it was like. She worked with guys who didn’t exactly go around talking about their feelings. She trusted them to watch her back, and they trusted her. But she didn’t know if Lucky was Santana’s real name or a nickname, or if Dante had ever been married, or if Murphy had a serious side. Cal never talked about whether or not he and his new wife planned to have children any time soon, or even how Livvie liked the new house.
She’d been living with superficial conversations instead of heartfelt confessions. Here she was, marking time, just waiting for her chance to get out of Garth all over again. And there was no one she could talk to.
God, she sounded like such a girl.
“I’m not going to be here very long,” she said to Jennifer’s back. “It wouldn’t make any sense for me to get involved with Truman or anyone else, no matter how I feel.” Her heart thudded. “No sense at all.”
At the top of the stairs, Jennifer stopped and spun around to face Sadie. “Want a little advice?”
“From you?” Sadie tried to sound sufficiently cold, but a small tremor in her voice gave her away.
“Have some fun, for once in your life. Have a fling with Truman, if that’s what you both want.” For a split second, Jen looked more like a woman than a spoiled little girl. “Don’t dissect it. Don’t analyze it. Don’t worry about what’s going to happen tomorrow or next week or next year. Just cut loose and let your life unfold, instead of trying so damn hard to plan every detail. Sadie, you’re working so hard at looking ahead that you’re missing right now. All we have is right now.”
With that, Jennifer bounded down the stairs.
Sadie sagged against the wall. When Jennifer started making sense, the world really had gone mad.
Chapter 6
Sadie chewed on whether or not she should tell Evans that she suspected Rhea Powell had been sleeping with Hearn. She finally decided against it. She had no proof, other than a woman’s intuition. If Evans was smart he’d find out on his own. Rhea wasn’t a very good liar. She’d probably give herself away, sooner rather than later. Any attempt by Sadie to get more involved than she should be would only set off Evans’ radar. Best to lay low, for now.
Sadie didn’t work murder cases; that wasn’t her job. She had searched for and found missing children, rescued kidnapped kids like Danny, and even tailed terrorists, on one occasion. Now and then they were hired to retrieve things, not people, but the jobs remained much the same. Along with other Benning agents she’d been to Mexico and other points south, as well as an island in the Caribbean. There had been that one really wild trip to Europe.
She was involved in the action, not investigation. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t think.
People didn’t get killed for no reason. Well, with the exception of the occasional victim of a serial killer, of course, but in this instance that was an unlikely scenario. Drugs, love, sex, money. That’s why people got murdered. Had Hearn been involved with drugs? Not that she’d been able to uncover, but that didn’t mean anything. Love? She almost snorted. Men like Hearn didn’t love anyone but themselves. Sex. Obviously he’d been fooling around on poor Mrs. Hearn. Had he been cheating on Rhea as well? Too soon to know.
Money. Hearn had been knee-deep in money, his own and the bank’s. Who knows what else he might’ve been knee-deep in?
Sadie had tried to see Hearn’s widow yesterday afternoon, between Truman’s visit to her and her talk with Jennifer, but the woman had been in seclusion. Mourning or celebrating? It was impossible to know. All Lillian would say about Evelyn Hearn was the woman was very sweet. That “very sweet” was followed by a pursing of the lips, as if Lillian was physically stopping more information from coming out of her mouth. After a while Sadie stopped pressing.
She was beginning to get worried about Conrad. He still hadn’t shown up, and while he had always been undependable, she didn’t think it was like him to be gone for three full days without anyone being able to find him. There was no apparent connection between Hearn and Conrad Hudson, and in truth they had never run in the same social circles.
Worst case, the killer knew Conrad had seen him or her, and the Yellow Rose Motel’s part-time night-desk clerk was dead, too.
At least the employee situation was under control. Kathy wasn’t only experienced, she was good. That morning there had been no spilled coffee, and she’d very quickly learned to banter with the customers. Lillian loved her. Sadie loved her, primarily because with Kathy on the payroll she didn’t have to worry about serving Truman coffee or grits or anything else.
Porter Manley had agreed to take on the night-shift position full time, at least for now. Sadie didn’t get the same warm, fuzzy feeling from Manley that she got from Kathy. Not that there was anything outright wrong with him. He showed up for work clean, he kept the office neat, and when he made himself something to eat he always cleaned up his own mess.
But he never said much. Porter was one of those silent types who kept to himself.
It was Friday morning and Sadie’s turn to watch the front desk. So when Kathy stopped by the office to grab a cup of coffee before beginning to clean the occupied rooms, Sadie was glad of the chance to talk.
“Sorry you walked through that door, yet?
” Sadie asked with a smile.
Kathy returned the smile, almost reluctantly. “No. I don’t mind working hard. I’d just as soon stay busy.”
“I am going to hire someone else,” Sadie promised. “Things will settle down around here, soon enough.”
The girl sipped at her coffee, then nodded agreeably.
It was a tough life to live on the run. Who was Kathy hiding from? Husband, boyfriend, father? Sadie had to give Kathy credit for taking her life into her own hands. She hadn’t been one to sit at home and take whatever the man she was running from dished out. There was some pride in that decision; and more than a little strength. Kathy, timid as she appeared to be, was a survivor. Still, it was a hard life for one so young.
Sadie leaned on the front desk. “You and Jennifer must be about the same age.” Close enough, anyway. “When you have some free time, maybe she can show you around town. Granted, there’s not much to show.”
Kathy shook her head. “I don’t go out.”
It made Sadie angry to think of what someone must’ve done to Kathy to make her live this way.
“I can show you a few moves if you like,” she said. “Nothing fancy, but every woman needs to be able to defend herself.”
Kathy’s head snapped up, and she was outwardly alarmed.
Yeah, some man had done his best to ruin her. “A little karate, some plain old street tricks…”
“No thanks,” Kathy said quickly. “I, uh, I get along okay. The coffee was good,” she added quickly, “but I need to get to work.”
Head down, the new girl did just that. She slipped out the door and headed for the small room where the cleaning supplies were stored.
It was a shame that Kathy had allowed one bad apple to ruin her life. A woman shouldn’t let a single bad experience, no matter how bad, stop her from living.
Truly, Madly, Dangerously Page 9