Daniel groaned. “Where is she right now?”
“Over in the saloon. When I told her she couldn’t have my car, she got really pissed and ran in and locked the door. I told the college kids to go back to Albuquerque. She’s mad at me, but I’m not going to let her leave. We can’t be sure where Wheeler is … even if he is being watched.” Ross looked up, his expression grim.
“Good man,” replied Sophie, “We’ll get to the bottom of this. And if I can help it, nobody is leaving Ruby Spring until the show opens.”
Ross cocked his head to the side. “About that. I have a favor to ask you two that would help set my mind at ease.”
“Sure buddy,” said Daniel, “What do you need? You’ve done so much for us; it’s the least we can do.”
Ross rubbed his forehead. “Even if you don’t want to do it?”
“What are you getting at, Ross?” Sophie asked.
“I’ve made arrangements for you and the Daniels to move down to Albuquerque temporarily. Buddy and Jack agreed to give up their apartment and come up here. Not only will they guard the theater, but you guys will be much safer. The apartment complex has a security system, and you have to admit, you’re pretty vulnerable up here … what with a newborn and Danny’s broken leg.”
Sophie frowned at Ross, but said nothing. She turned to Daniel, who opened his mouth to retort. Before he could speak, she squeezed his arm in warning.
“You’re a sweet man, Ross,” she said in a quiet voice. “We’ll do it.”
Daniel heaved himself up from the chair and opened his mouth again. “But this is my property. I can take care of it and my family.”
“Look man, no one said that you can’t. But it’s kind of a strain with your leg, isn’t it?” Ross stood to face him.
“I’ll manage,” Daniel grunted. “Thanks for the offer. But we’re staying right here.”
Ross glanced at Sophie. She rolled her eyes. “Danny, we’re going. And I know just how to get you to agree.”
Daniel snorted. “I doubt it.” He leaned over and scratched at his ankle with the spatula.
Sophie whipped it out of his hand and threw it in the sink. “Two words. Cable television.” She grinned.
He reached out a hand. “Give me my crutches, woman. I have to start packing.”
Ross chuckled and rose from the table. “Thanks, you two. It’s for the best, and it’s only temporary. Do you need help getting stuff to the car?”
Sophie grabbed him in a heartfelt hug. “Go see about your best friend, Ross. She’s the one who needs you now.”
Ross nodded and sighed. “Yeah. I may need a good bottle of something to get that job done, though. Do you have anything?”
Sophie pulled a chair over to the cabinets and stood on it. She opened a door and surveyed the contents. “Gin? How about some vodka? Oh, here’s a bottle of red wine.” She blew the dust off of it and handed it to Ross. “Good luck.”
He shook his head in despair. “Luck’s not going to help this problem, but thanks anyway.”
He left the hotel and trudged down the street to the saloon. Trying the front door again, he frowned. Still locked. He peered in a window and knocked. “Carly?”
“Go away,” she answered. Her stuffy nose made her voice sound odd.
He sighed and tried again. “Let me in, sweetie. I brought you some wine.”
“Fine,” she answered, “I’ll drink it and then break the bottle over Freddie’s head.” She hiccoughed and then began to cry.
Ross knocked on the window again. “I’d love to see that, but you have to let me in first, Carly.” He waited another minute and the knob finally turned. The old door creaked as she opened it. Carly stood before him, her eyes swollen and red. Ross cocked his head to the side and surveyed her, compassion in his eyes. “Oh, sweetie. I’m really sorry.”
She reached out and grabbed the bottle from his hand. “I know you are,” she said in a tired voice. “Now let’s get this open.”
“I forgot a cork screw.” Ross slapped a hand to his forehead and turned to go back to the hotel.
“That’s what power drills are for,” Carly replied as she walked to the bar.
“You can do that?” Ross asked.
“Sure, why not? I’ll be very careful and just pretend that it’s Freddie’s ear canal.”
Ross bit back a laugh and held the bottle while she drilled the cork. “You’re a funny woman. And multi-talented as usual, Carly,” he commented.
“Oh, absolutely. It seems that my talents don’t extend to holding onto a man, though.” She pulled the cork off the drill bit and threw it over her shoulder. “For luck. Yeah, right.” She grabbed the bottle from his hand and tipped it to her lips, draining a third of it.
“Carly,” Ross began cautiously, “You don’t know the whole story. There’s a reason Asher didn’t tell you.”
“I can’t think of any.” She wiped her mouth and tipped the bottle for a second pull.
“May I have a sip of that?” Ross tugged the bottle from her hands. “Don’t you think you should at least talk to him?”
“Never,” she replied matter-of-factly. “Besides, I’ll be halfway to Chicago by this time tomorrow.”
Ross sighed. “No you won’t. Think about it, sweetie. I know you, and no matter how bad a situation is — and admittedly, this is pretty bad — you don’t quit before a job is over. You can go home in a week. But for now, you’ve somehow got to pull it together, be professional, and finish this up.”
“Damn, Ross.” Carly blinked at him. “Thanks for the sympathy.”
He placed the wine bottle on the bar and put his arms around her. “Like I said, I know you. Sympathy won’t work for long. But what I will do is take you into Albuquerque and buy you something fun. And then tonight, you’ll talk to Asher. Deal?”
Carly snorted. “No deal. I’ll go with you, but I don’t want to ever set eyes on him again as long as I live.”
“That’s good enough for now, I guess,” Ross replied.
“It better be. Now give me back the wine.” Carly reached around him for the bottle, but he was quicker that her. Deftly, he grabbed it and ran out of the saloon to pour the rest onto the dusty ground.
She followed him outside and then gasped. “What are you doing?”
“I’m not taking a drunk shopping. Now wipe your eyes and comb your hair. Momma needs a new pair of shoes.” He winked at her, and she smiled in spite of herself.
“It will help a little, but only for a few minutes, Ross,” she said.
“I know that.” He kissed her cheek and held out his hand. “Let’s go, buddy.”
She sighed and allowed herself to be led toward the parking lot. “What would I do without you, Ross?”
“You’d manage just fine. You’re stronger than you think you are, Carly.”
She smiled up at him fondly, her eyes sad. “So are you, Ross.”
• • •
Ross kissed her forehead and opened the car door for her. Carly sighed and climbed in. She buckled the seat belt and leaned her head back to stare out the window as they began the drive down to Albuquerque. Although she tried to keep her mind blank, pain and anger bubbled below the surface. How could she have let this happen? After all the promises she had made to herself. And who was she kidding … she had been nothing more than a diversion. Asher was famous. And intoxicatingly handsome. And most likely rich. This Miranda was probably some kind of supermodel.
Before she could stop herself, she blurted out her thoughts. “I think it’s safe to assume that his wife looks like a model,” she said.
“Now Carly,” Ross returned, “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you talk to him before he leaves.”
“I’m not going to talk to him,” she shot back, tears welling in her eyes. “
But I have to know … somehow I have to find out about why he did this to me or I’ll never be able to forget about it. Or forgive myself.”
Ross looked at her in shock. “Why in the hell do you think you have to forgive yourself?”
“I made a promise to myself before the summer started, Ross. I wasn’t going to get caught up in some stupid crush … it’s not like I’m twenty anymore. I just wanted this summer to be different … to be something other than me, driving away from a job, completely pissed off at myself.” The tears began in earnest now, and she sobbed into her hands.
“And this summer has been awful? Every part of it?” Ross reached out and stroked her back soothingly.
“Y-y-y-essss,” she managed, “It’s sucked. And I … I … am never going to do another show or go to another art gallery or another museum ever again as long as I live. I’m going to go back to Chicago and I’m going to eat and eat until I get so fat that I have to live in a wheelchair. And I’ll let my fingernails grow into claws. And … and I’ll get a cat … then another one … and another one … until the entire apartment is full and the neighbors start complaining about the smell and call animal control and they haul me away with the cats and throw me in the loony bin.” She finished on a hiccough and squinted up at Ross. He was shaking in silent laughter, barely able to keep his eyes on the road.
“Hey.” Carly’s eyes narrowed in accusation. “Are you making fun of my pain?”
“No, sweetie … it’s just that you are brilliant, even when you’re at your worst.”
Carly frowned and folded her arms. “Humph.” She glanced out the window as they began the descent toward the interstate. She saw a sign for the airport and winced. Her eyes filled again.
Ross observed her in silence for a few more minutes, and then tried again. “Carly, I know I just told you a while ago, but you’re a strong woman. I’m going to take the airport exit so that you can talk to Asher. His first flight leaves in a couple of hours, and he’d be checking in about now.”
“Do it and die, Ross,” Carly gasped, “And how do you know when his flight leaves?”
“Because I talked to him.”
“Traitor,” she screeched. “Why would you do that?”
Ross sighed. “He called me, not the other way around. He knows you, sweetie. And he knows that you wouldn’t talk to him for all the money in the world right now. He wants me to bring you to him so he can do it in person.”
“Do what? Rub in the fact that he lied to me, betrayed me, and used me all summer long until he could get back with Ms. Model?” Her eyes glittered with anger.
“It’s not like that. Just trust me that he isn’t screwing you over, OK?”
Carly studied her best friend in silence. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was a mess. Two earrings were missing from the collection that usually adorned his ears, and his usually immaculate, tight black T-shirt had a big rip at the neck. Definitely not the Ross she knew. Her expression softened. “I’m sorry. And I appreciate everything you’re trying to do for me, Ross. You know I’d do the same for you,” she said.
“Then you’ll talk to him?”
“No. I simply can’t,” she whispered, “Not right now. But … I’ll try to believe you.”
Ross sighed and reached in a pocket for his phone. “Then I gotta tell him that I failed.”
Carly watched as they zoomed by the exit to the airport. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. It was too late now. And in a way, it was too late the day she met Asher. “No, don’t tell him that. Just tell him that it wasn’t meant to be … not today … not ever, I guess.”
• • •
Wheeler Barstow hooted with laughter, crushed his beer can in one fist and then threw it at the trash can in the kitchen. He missed by three feet and it rolled across the linoleum to rest next to a stack of empty pizza boxes. Still chuckling, he turned down the TV and staggered up to get another beer.
Asher Day was married. Well, it served Carly right. Now she would know just who was who. Now was the time for her to apologize and come back to him. He knew it would happen all along … it was just a matter of being patient. He belched and walked over to peer out the window. Good. Somehow Joe had gotten rid of those loser FBI agents that were watching the place.
What a pain in the ass that had been. And embarrassing. He clenched his teeth. No sooner than he had gotten to sleep the morning after the night of Carly’s birthday … there was a knock at his door. And he was in bad shape, too. Still a little drunk and cut up and bruised all to hell and back. The least Joe could have done was call and warn him that the FBI had been contacted. And that Wheeler himself was going to get hauled down to the station. But no … .Joe had gotten scared. Well, at least he was helping now. Wheeler chuckled. God help him, Joe was stupid. All Wheeler had to do was complain about needing some space, and Joe had ponied right up.
He thought of the story he had concocted for Joe to tell and chuckled again. Old Coach Bentley up at the high school should have kept his mouth shut when he had told Wheeler a couple of months ago about his pot farm thirty miles south of Albuquerque. It had been so simple to just elaborate a bit … throw in some south of the border trafficking, some heavier drugs, and pronto … get those agents off his ass and onto Bentley.
They wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, if he was lucky. Just enough time to go and get his girl. And then he’d have her in Mexico by sundown. Wheeler yawned and shuffled to the bedroom to take a nap.
• • •
Three hours later, he woke with a smile on his face. He showered and pulled on his jeans, scratched at his scruffy face and posed for the mirror. No woman could resist a man with stubble … and Carly would fall for him all over again … he just knew it. He grabbed for his gun belt and then frowned, remembering. The bastards had taken it from him. Well, it was good that he had a shotgun hidden inside his truck.
Grabbing his car keys, Wheeler eased through the front door and looked up and down the street. Nobody but a couple of kids playing ball. Good. He got in his truck and left for Ruby Spring. Four miles onto the interstate, the light traffic became congested. He sighed as he slowed down to a crawl, and then a stop. Damn, it must be a wreck. Straining his neck, he peered around the car in front of him, but couldn’t see anything … it must be too far ahead.
Cursing, Wheeler veered onto the shoulder and drove ahead, ignoring the honking behind him. He cursed again when he saw the eighteen-wheeler jack-knifed across two lanes of traffic. Well, he didn’t have time to wait for the accident to be cleared. He’d just have to take a back road. With a reckless maneuver, he drove down the embankment to the service road below and turned into an apartment complex.
Pulling into an empty space, he let out an irritated sigh and reached for the county map stuck up in the visor. He should know the roads like the back of his hand, but lately, he’d been so drunk that he couldn’t remember his own name half the time. Wheeler rolled down the window to let some fresh air in and flipped the map open. He was tracing the route with a finger when he heard a familiar female voice whining across the parking lot.
“Do we need anything else, Danny? How many diapers do we have left?”
His head snapped up and he looked over at a tall, blonde woman standing in the doorway of one of the apartments. It was Sophie Day. What the hell was she doing here? For that matter, what the hell were she and her husband doing here? Had they moved into town again? Wheeler frowned and hunched into his seat to listen.
“We have plenty of diapers. Just go, woman … you’re interrupting my precious TV viewing time.”
“Danny Day, you can watch TV all night long. I have to go get groceries for at least two weeks … well, at least until they lock up Wheeler Barstow and we can move back up home. Pay attention.”
“Soph, they may never lock him up. And I am paying attention. I said
… we don’t need any diapers.”
“Fine!”
“Fine.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I get finished at the store.”
“That’s what I assumed.”
“Don’t start with the sarcasm, Mister. It’s been a long day already.”
“Then don’t start with the nagging, Missy … it’s not helping.”
“Oooooh, you drive me nuts. I’m glad I’m going to the store. I need to escape for a little while.”
“You’ll be missed.”
“Danny, that wasn’t funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny … I meant it sincerely. Now come here and give your studly husband a kiss.”
Wheeler winced as he listened to the soft laughter and kissing. Disgusting. That man didn’t know how to handle a woman. But the Days were the least of his concerns right now. He had to get out of here without them seeing him. But how? Maybe he could just lie down on the floorboards for a few minutes until she left. That was probably the best idea. He turned off the engine, heaved himself to the floor and waited until her car was gone. After another few seconds, he sat up again and sighed. What a meddling woman. He was half-tempted to barge right in and tell Danny Day to quit being such a sissy, but what would that accomplish?
Nothing, other than seeing the look on his face. Wheeler chuckled. Danny Day would piss his pants if Wheeler walked into his little ‘safe’ house. It was almost worth it. Hell, it was early. Wheeler licked his lips and climbed out of the truck. It would be fun to get the baby riled up, too. Then Danny would be left humiliated with a crying brat on his hands. Grinning, he stopped in front of the apartment door. The brat was already crying. Perfect.
Suddenly, his head snapped up. The brat! That was it. There was one sure way to get Carly to come to him, and it would be easy. Take the baby. His eyes glinted with determination as he reached for the doorknob.
Chapter Eighteen
Stifling his laughter, Wheeler turned the front door knob and walked quietly into the room. He stood for a minute and observed father and son. What a ridiculous pair. That long-legged idiot asleep on the couch, foot resting on the baby’s cradle. The little bundle of drool was asleep too, his mouth open just like his dad’s. Well, it was time for wakey-wakey. Stealthily, he took one of Daniel’s crutches and reached with it to turn the television volume up as loud as it would go.
Heart to Heart Page 113