“Did she tell you about us?”
He stares at the ground, his cheeks reddening.
Huh. Hopefully, he was the only one she told. The cops must have figured out who Hank was. I really need to talk to Beau about all of this. He better be back at the ranch by the time we finish up here.
“Are you guys working with the cops?”
Crap. Of course he’d ask. “Sort of. We’re kind of like private investigators. When we find evidence, and we’ve got a great success rate”—the two murder cases we’ve actually tackled—“we always turn our evidence over to the cops.”
Ted scratches his head, visibly relaxing. “I don’t know who could have wanted Hank dead. He was a great guy. A real go-getter.”
“Was there anyone that he didn’t get along with?” Russ pulls out a notebook.
“Haven’t you heard?” Ted’s eyes narrow in distrust.
“Of course, but we always like to cross-reference our names.” The lie slips easily off of my tongue. I try not to let it bother me.
“Oh yeah. that makes sense,” he says. “Edwards. Bill Edwards. He wanted the Earp role when we got the contract for Tombstone, but Hank was a better actor.”
Ah, motive. “But wait.” Something doesn’t quite make sense. “We caught the show today, and he wasn’t Wyatt Earp.”
Ted chuckles. “Nope, he was too pissed to take the understudy position. But that’s not the only reason he hated Hank.” There’s a gleam in Ted’s eye that wasn’t there before.
An icy breeze skates across my skin. Now we’re getting the good stuff. “Oh yeah? Why is that?”
“Hank wanted Bill’s girl. You probably met her. She works over at the Last Chance.”
Russ’s pen pauses over the paper.
Annette. He has to be talking about her. She’s Bill’s girl. But Bill was with Cecily. God, this is so confusing. “I didn’t know Annette was dating Bill.” Then again, I saw the possessive asshole-ish-ness when he was around her.
“They’re not, at least not anymore. They went out a few times, but then Annette broke it off. Bill’s not a giving-up kinda guy, especially when it’s something he wants.”
Or someone. “I think we need to talk to more of the actors about Hank. Do you know anyone who will talk to us?” I quickly recount our attempts, starting with Earl.
Ted grimaces. “I don’t know if you’ll have any better luck some other time. People are spooked, and we stick together. But I will put in a good word for you. Some of the stand-ins and minor actors might talk to you. Throw in some alcohol, and people tend to get loose lips.”
Awesome. I’ll pay for all the cheap whiskey at the bar if it’ll get them to talk to us.
“Just check out the Last Chance Saloon after the last show of the night on Friday. A lot of us go there to blow off steam after a busy week. It’ll be payday too, so people are generally pretty generous.”
“Thank you,” I say, squeezing Ted’s hand. “We’ll see you there.”
Chapter 13
Back at the ranch, I knock on the door to the main house, but there’s no answer. Come on, Beau. I kick a dried clump of dirt, frustrated. It’s not that late. I pull out my phone and text him, but he doesn’t respond. He’s going to have to talk to me eventually. At least, I hope he talks to me before we leave. Rocket’s sprawled out on the front porch. She raises her head and thumps her tail, but then goes back to sleep.
I stomp to the cabin, and Bear pulls on the leash, trying to sniff one of the squat barrel cacti lining the path. “You know, if you stick your nose too close to cactus, you’re going to get a nose full of spines,” I say.
“Some dogs never learn,” Beau says, a hint of laughter in his voice.
I spin around. Beau leans against one of the wooden pillars on the front porch of the cabin closest to the ranch house. Cloaked in shadows, he stands with his arms are crossed over his chest and his hat pulled low on his head.
“I knocked on the door and tried to text you, but you didn’t answer.”
Beau pushes himself away from the railing and crosses the few feet between us. “I was finishing up with the horses, and I just got done. Is something wrong?”
Yes. No. My stomach flutters, and I swallow the lump in my throat. “I... I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do about the case, given what we found when we were investigating, so I was looking for you.” Yeah, that’s a safe way to say that I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and I need help. I give him a quick recap on what we found out about Hank Gladstone.
He tips his hat back, and his eyes meet mine, concerned. “Don’t you think it’s too dangerous? I mean, a man was murdered on our property. That’s a horrible thing to see. Now, I know it’s not the first time you’ve come across a murder victim, but it’s still awful.”
“Yeah, I think we’re okay.” We’re not, at least I’m not, but I’m trying not to think about that or about him, and I’m trying to funnel all of my energy into helping solve this guy’s death. “What does your dad think?”
Beau sighs. “He thinks maybe it was a drug deal gone wrong. Something to do with the gangs or the cartels. That’s always his answer, though. Nobody knows. Didn’t you say this guy worked in Tombstone?”
“Yeah, he was Wyatt Earp in the reenactment of the O.K. Corral gunfight.” I glance out over the horizon at the deepening twilight. “Do you think those lights will show up again tonight?” I hope not. I’m not really up for investigating right now.
“I don’t know,” he says. “But even if they do, I think we should stay close to home tonight. After what happened, well, I don’t want a repeat of that.” Beau brushes a tendril of my hair behind my ear. I shiver at his touch. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”
At my feet, Bear finally gets close enough to a cactus to hike his leg. Mission accomplished, he regards Beau suspiciously before wandering off in the other direction, nose to the ground.
“You know, I think he likes me.” Beau’s gaze follows my dog.
“More than he likes some people,” I say.
“Do you want to go back out to the valley tomorrow morning? See if we can find anything?”
“About the aliens, right?” I have to ask, because there’s so much going on right now, I have to make sure I know what he’s talking about.
He gives me a funny look. “Yeah, what else?”
Oh, I don’t know. Like more clues about what happened to Hank, maybe? But yeah, let’s stick with the aliens.
Behind me, the door to the cabin opens, and Jess pokes her head out. “What’s taking you so long?” she yells. “Oh...” She cackles. “Never mind.” She slams the door.
I jump away from Beau, face flaming.
“See you tomorrow?” he asks.
“Yup, see you tomorrow.” I tug my reluctant dog back to the cabin, feeling Beau’s eyes on me the entire way.
Sprawled out on the couch, Jess smirks at me. “Took you long enough,” she says. “How long has that been going on?”
“Shut up. Nothing’s going on.”
She snickers. “Right...” She turns to Russ, looking for support.
Russ holds up his hands. “Leave me out of it.”
I roll my eyes. “Maybe we should focus on the case instead of worrying about my love life.”
“Or lack thereof.” Jess smirks. “You know, maybe it’s a good thing. You haven’t had a boyfriend in, like, forever.”
“It’s none of your business,” I snap. I don’t need a boyfriend, either. The last one did enough damage.
“It is when we’re living together and have to put up with you.”
“Just leave her alone, okay?” Russ says, standing up. “She’s been through enough.” He disappears into his bedroom and slams the door behind him.
After he leaves, I let out a deep breath and sink down onto the bed next to Jess, my earlier irritation at my sister forgotten. “Is he all right?”
“I think he’s just worried about
you. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt again. After that mess with Cam, well... We were both really worried.”
I bite my lip. “You were?” I didn’t know that. I tried to keep everything hidden from my sister. She was going through enough; I didn’t want to burden her with my problems, too. And a cheating boyfriend definitely falls into that category.
She nods. “Yeah. What he did was horrible, and there’s no excuse for it, but then you disappeared for, like, weeks. No one could get ahold of you. You weren’t answering your phone, and no one knew where you were.” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I thought I was going to lose you too.”
Her pain slices deep inside me, and I pull her into my arms. “You didn’t lose me. I’m still here. I’ll always be here.”
She sniffs. “I know,” she says, her voice wobbly. “But Russ, you, and me, we’re all we have left. We’re family.”
“I know.” I rub small circles in her back.
“I’m sorry I was making fun of you.” She pulls away from me. “If you like Beau, I think you should go for it. If you get the chance for a little happiness, at least for a few days, you should take it. That doesn’t mean we’re not going to make fun of you, but that’s because we love you.”
“I love you, too.” I squeeze her in a tight hug.
Bear jumps onto the bed and covers our faces with slobbery kisses.
“I love you too, buddy.”
Chapter 14
The next evening, we head back to Tombstone. “I can’t believe you guys spent an entire day on the website,” I gripe. “I was so bored.”
“Well, maybe if you’d help once in a while instead of drooling over some cowboy, it’d go faster,” Jess says, dryly.
My fingers tighten on the steering wheel. From the corner of my eye, I glance at Russ. His lips twitch.
When he notices me watching him, he says, “Hey, don’t put me into the middle of this. This is what happens when you have two active investigations at once and only one vehicle. Too bad you couldn’t go on another romantic horseback ride, eh?”
If it was possible for my cheeks to get any redder, they would burst into flames. “You know what? Just shut up.”
“Uh huh,” he says, his eyes full of mirth. “Do you want me to pick up some wine next time? Maybe you and Beau can really enjoy checking out the scene.”
I slam on the brakes and pull the van over. “Oh my God. I hate you both so much right now. Seriously, knock it off.” I mean I’m glad Russ seems to be in a better mood, but crap. This is why I don’t have a personal life.
Jess pokes her head between the seats. “One more question, mostly because Russ is too chicken to ask, and I know you won’t kick me out. Is Beau a good kisser?”
“Son of a bitch.” I groan, sinking my forehead into the steering wheel. “You know we haven’t kissed. God. It’s not even any of your business. One more word, and I’ll ship both of your asses back to Michigan.”
Jess chortles and disappears into the back seat. “No, you won’t.” She pokes her hand through the seats. “Pay up. You owe me five bucks.”
With a grumble, he hands over the cash.
“What’d you bet?”
“I told Russ you kissed Beau, but he didn’t think so,” she says smugly.
“But I didn’t!”
“Uh huh, sure. Of course you’d say that.” With a chuckle, she pockets the money.
I crank up the radio to some country station that’s a blend of English and Spanish and sing, loud and off-key, all the rest of the way into Tombstone.
Even though it’s relatively late in the day on a Friday, the streets are still bustling with activity. Mostly tourists, but a few costumed actors stroll down the streets and wait on the corners to answer questions from the general populace. Several people cluster around the Last Chance Saloon, both in costume and out. I wonder if the people who actually live in Tombstone come down here and what they think of all this theater. I guess if they didn’t like it, they could move.
Loud music from the same station we were listening to in the van blares from an old silver radio behind the bar. Clusters of people laugh raucously around tables and booths, drowning out the music as the party crescendos. Annette balances a couple tall glasses of beer on a tray as she weaves through tables to reach a couple of rowdy patrons. On her way back, she sees us and stops.
“You’re back,” she says. I can’t tell if it’s relief or annoyance in her voice. Without her smiling, it’s hard to say.
I nod. “Yeah, we wanted to stick around a little while.”
Russ elbows me in the side and points at a trio of actors hunched over a table in the back corner of the saloon. From this far away, I don’t recognize any of them, but hey, it’s better than nothing. There’s an empty booth next to them, so I follow Russ’s unspoken nod, and we take a seat.
One of the men sitting at the table, Wyatt Earp from the O.K. Corral reenactment earlier, glances at us, and his expression hardens. So much for being friendly with the locals. I ignore him and sit down. Acting like out-of-town idiots is something we’re good at.
“Do you want to get something to eat?” Jess asks, surveying the menu.
“Why not?” Russ slips a voice recorder from his pocket and turns it on. Sure, we can’t use it for our show, but some things, like murder, are bigger than that. “I’m starving,” he says as a young brunette approaches, wearing jeans and a red plaid button-up shirt. She has a cowboy hat with a matching red plaid band and a name tag that says her name is Cecily.
“Welcome to the Last Chance Saloon. What can I get y’all?” She can’t be over eighteen or nineteen, but there’s no perkiness in her voice. Her eyes are red-rimmed.
“Hi, I’m Meredith.” The words are rote from my lips. She didn’t really ask who we are or what we’re doing in Tombstone, but I figure I might as well bite the bullet and tell her who we are. “We’re here with Brady Paranormal Investigations, and we’re investigating Tombstone’s spooky history.”
At the other table, Wyatt Earp stops talking, and his companions follow suit.
“I’m Cecily,” she says. “Did y’all go on the ghost tour? I heard it was great. What about the O.K. Corral or the Bird Cage Theater? I’ve heard they’re haunted, too.”
Russ and I share a glance. Jess is messing around on her phone, so she doesn’t catch what’s going on. I want to kick her under the table, but all I would get is a dirty look and her throwing something at me. This waitress, though, she has to be Hank’s Cecily. It’s a relatively unusual name, and it couldn’t be a coincidence that she’s here if it’s not him. It has to be.
“We hit the ghost tour and the O.K. Corral, and both were fantastic. We have an online TV show and were hoping to interview people who’ve had ghost encounters here. Do you know of anyone who works in Tombstone and might have seen a ghost?” Okay, I know I’m reaching, but I have to try something to break the ice.
Wyatt Earp and the other actors start talking again, apparently coming to the conclusion that we aren’t a threat.
“No,” she says, glancing quickly from side to side. “I haven’t seen any ghosts around here.”
That’s disappointing. This would be so much easier if she was already a believer. Russ takes out a business card and hands it to her.
“Will you let us know if you hear of anything?” he asks.
She nods and gulps, and for a second, I think she’s about to cry. I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t be in the best state of mind if my boyfriend died. We order drinks and a pizza—cowboy-style, whatever that is—and when Cecily returns with our drinks, I decide to carefully ask another question.
“Do you know any of the actors? We’d love to interview them for the show. It might help bring some publicity to Tombstone too.”
She quickly shakes her head. “I’m not really the person to ask. Bill Edwards would know. He’s the one in charge.”
I crane my head around the bar, but I don’t see him. “Is he here?”
Sh
e shakes her head. “No, sorry. I, uh... I wish I could help.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say. “You’ve already helped a ton.” Not really, and the disappointment claws at me, but there really isn’t anything we can do about it.
The man sitting across from Wyatt Earp whips off his hat and slams it down on the table. I jump, and my eyes widen as I recognize the ever-charming Bill Edwards. He is here. Why did Cecily lie to us? That doesn’t make any sense. Is she protecting him? If so, why?
“That’s bull,” Bill says. “We need to be out there, not getting drunk off of our asses in here.” He waves his arm, derision plain on his face.
“Quiet,” Earp insists, setting his hand on the other man’s arm.
Bill shakes him off. “No, you be quiet with your pansy-ass, wait-and-see attitude. I’m done with that.” He grabs his beer and tosses the rest back. “We got the coordinates, we got the tools. We’ve got to get out there and dig before someone else finds it. I haven’t wasted six months, more if you count getting into this shithole of a job, just to give up now.”
The other man, whom I don’t know but who is dressed the part but with blond hair instead of brown, shushes them both. “Come on, Bill. Gene’s right.”
Gene? Wyatt Earp’s real name is Gene? I file that interesting tidbit away for later. He certainly doesn’t look like a Gene. Russ snickers, and I shoot him a dirty look. Now is not the time.
“Whatever.” Bill stands up and slams his empty glass on the table. “You cowards can stay here and sit on your asses, but I’m not. I’m going out there whether you’re coming or not.” With that, he grabs the long black trench coat he was wearing and storms out of the saloon. His companions throw a few dollars on the table before following him.
A hush overtakes the bar, followed by the slow recovery of people’s conversations. Cecily brings our pizza, an apologetic smile on her face. “Sorry about all that,” she says. “Some of the guys don’t know when to stop.”
“Do you know what they were talking about?” Russ asks. He shifts slightly so the recorder is facing her, but she doesn’t see it.
A Brady Paranormal Investigations Box Set Page 39