by Susan Union
The pieces were coming together and starting to make sense. Beer, tequila—Randi had no problem with those. Take ’em or leave ’em, but champagne, the good stuff, was her weakness and had been responsible for more than a few crazy nights. She held onto Pegasus and prayed this hadn’t been one of them.
Tucking the empties under her arm, she carried them to the kitchen, taking care not to let the bottles clink together. Several box-wine dead soldiers littered Mel’s counters. Box-wine and fine champagne? Doesn’t fit. Did they go to a liquor store? Her credit card? Her purse? Oh, God. This is ridiculous. I’m turning into my father. No more drinking for a while.
Hummingbirds buzzed the window; a reminder the day was proceeding and things outside Mel’s trailer needed tending to. This was Sunday, the final day of the agility trial. Last chance, but did it matter anymore? Without her mother around, and not being able to pry any concrete clues from Mel, she was losing her fire to find Gina’s killer. Let the police do their job. That’s what they got paid for.
A shadow crossed the window and fell across the front door. Hands cupped around eyes to block the glare pressed against the glass. A reflection.
Luke’s silver cuff.
He burst through the unlocked door without so much as a friendly knock. His gaze zeroed in on the sofa and Mel’s half-naked body at the same time the room exploded with fur and teeth as Mel’s dog pack came to life in a furious round of barking, leaping from their collective stupor to all four paws, hackles raised.
Mel bolted upright. “Quiet!” Her command cut the air. All seven canines fell silent and collapsed into a down-stay. “Dang dogs.” Mel lay back down with an exaggerated sigh.
Shane ambled up to Luke, tail wagging. Luke’s face softened as he rubbed behind Shane’s ears.
Randi crabbed sideways to the sofa bed and tugged at the blanket around Mel’s ankles. Hopelessly tangled. Her intentions weren’t valiant. She cared more about Luke seeing Mel’s rack than saving the woman’s modesty.
Mel snatched the blanket away. “What’re you doing?” She sat up, spied a T-shirt within reach and took her sweet time tugging it over her head. She caught Luke looking and gave him a dull-eyed stare. “Hey, no offense, but men, first thing in the morning—no matter how hot you may be—aren’t my gig.” Shaking out her hair, she strode down the hall toward her room, the half-moons of her butt cheeks twitching below the hem of the shirt as she walked. All the dogs, except Shane, followed. Mel waited patiently for them to file through before she closed the bedroom door behind her.
Luke looked like he’d just eaten a kumquat. Randi couldn’t tell if it was because she caught him checking out Mel or because he’d discovered her first thing in the morning with a beautiful, mostly naked woman. A handful of explanations sprang to mind, but she kyboshed them as soon as they formed. Anything she said would sound defensive, and why be that way unless one had something to hide?
“You didn’t answer your phone.” Luke paced, his eyes not letting go of Randi’s. “Kira told me to check the trailer parks. She said you were with Mel last night. This is the second place I’ve come looking for you.” The more words he said, the louder he got. “Do you want to know why?”
Dizzy, she slumped on the edge of the sofa bed. “I have a few ideas.”
“Your father called.”
“He did?” She sat up. “Why’d he call you and not me?”
“You didn’t answer. Guess I’m his backup. Where’s your phone?”
“My truck.” She hoped. “What’d he say?”
Luke crossed his arms and widened his stance. “He has a visitor. Her name is Lee Ann Sterling.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The seconds passed as Luke’s words sank in. “My mother’s in Colorado?” She cleared her throat, taking a moment to collect herself, mentally testing what was safe to say and what might make her burst into tears. “Is she coming back?”
“I don’t know.”
No use. Tears spilled. Relief? Anger? Hurt? Whatever the reason, she swiped them away. “I’m glad she’s alive and I’m glad she’s safe, but is it so hard to pick up the damn phone and call? I always knew she was selfish, but on this visit, especially, I tried to make an effort for us to have a normal mother-daughter relationship.” She shook her head, sick and woozy and overwhelmed with fatigue. “It doesn’t matter. She just proved how much she doesn’t care.”
Luke sat on the spot on the sofa where Mel had slept. “Sometimes the people we love hurt us without knowing what they’re doing. They don’t do it on purpose.”
“How do you know?”
“Your father phoned while your mother was in the shower to tell you she’s safe. From his tone I gathered your mother was hiding out.”
That wasn’t quite what she’d meant.
Luke squared his shoulders. Back to business. “Speaking of phones, you should always have yours on you. Always. When I’m on call, you’re on call.”
She dropped her head. Felt like nothing she did turned out right. Dog hair swirled round her feet.
Luke was halfway out the door when he stopped. “Oh yeah. I almost forgot the other reason I was looking for you. We’re vaccinating Barbra’s horses this morning. Be at her ranch in half an hour. Eight o’clock. Sharp.”
****
Randi pulled in next to Luke’s truck, Barbra’s grandiose stable in the distance. After leaving Mel’s place she’d only had time for a quick rinse-off at home so she wouldn’t smell of stale beer and cigarettes. She’d fed Shane and slurped a cup of microwaved day-old coffee for a jolt of caffeine and to wash down three Advil.
As soon as she’d driven through the gates of Barbra’s property, the hair on her arms had stood up and her vision became hyper-alert. Enemy territory. She wished she hadn’t left Shane behind, but the image of Barbra coming after him with a shovel was still too fresh in her mind. Halfway here, she remembered Barbra had said she’d be off at a horse show today, assuming Luke had fixed her flat tire.
She collected her purse and checked the time. Thirteen minutes past eight. Crap. Stomach in a knot, she headed toward Barbra’s barn. The massive structure sat behind a fountain with two rearing horses flanked by rolling green lawns. When she crossed the threshold into the cool, clean confines of the stable, it was like entering an old European cathedral complete with cats. The sleek felines, grey, black or tabby, crouched and crept, pausing every few feet to twitch their tails. Hunters with a purpose who ignored everything else around them. No slobbering Labs out for a good ol’ game of fetch the tennis ball or roll in the muck here. Not in this barn. Besides, Barbra’s little pipsqueak dog might get eaten by bigger dogs. Better to stick with cats.
Luke waited in the center of the barn aisle next to a big brown horse.
Randi picked up a jog, fast enough to let him know she cared about being late, but not so fast as to startle the horse. She took the horse’s lead rope from Luke’s hand. “Sorry.”
“Let’s get started.” He turned away and bent over his vet bag.
She couldn’t see his face to know if he was angry or not. She decided to act as if he wasn’t and hope he followed her lead.
“Which horse is this?”
“Thunder.”
“This is Thunder?” She stepped back to assess the gelding’s attitude. Except for an occasional stomp of his hoof and a random swish of his tail, she hardly knew the horse was there. “He’s as calm as a carthorse.”
“Why wouldn’t he be?”
“Barbra was worried I’d give him diarrhea. She said he’s sensitive to moods and if I came in here spilling my personal problems, he’d catch the vibe and get sick.”
That got the smile she wanted. Luke passed an empty syringe under Thunder’s neck. “You told her about your mother?”
“Yes, but since I now know she ran back to my dad, Barbra doesn’t have to lose any sleep.” She stroked the horse’s nose. “Did you change her flat?”
“Flat what?”
“Tire?” Barbra
sure didn’t have anything else that was flat. “On her six-horse. She told me she was driving it to Burbank at ‘the butt crack of dawn’ this morning.”
“Oh yeah.” Luke grinned. “Wouldn’t call it a flat. Needed air, that’s all.”
Barbra was good. Damn good. Maybe Randi should sign herself up for lessons at the Barbra Dubois School of Man Training. Under her breath she said, “Peaceful without her here.”
Luke cocked an ear. “What’s that?”
“I said, nice day. Finally starting to feel like summer.”
Luke scowled. He was a hard one to fool. While he fussed with Barbra’s horse, Randi’s gaze roamed the barn. A work of art, Randi had to give Barbra that much. Although using woods like teak and mahogany to house horses was fairly ostentatious, the effect was rich and gleaming and a treat to the eyes. All the metal hardware in the barn was polished brass. Maintaining it in that state kept somebody busy, and it sure as hell wasn’t Barbra. Not with those fingernails.
“I was thinking about what you said, that anyone could have come onto your property and put those burrs under Oro’s pad. Did you ask Manuel if he saw anybody?”
“Yep. He said no.”
Thunder’s head shot up at the scamper of little paws coming at them across the thick rubber mats. A flash of white and brown, a tailed curled over its back. Barbra’s dog. Bitsy.
The thing dashed between Thunder’s hooves, but by the time the big gelding cocked a hind leg, Bitsy was long gone, running out the door at the opposite end and making a beeline for a mound of wood shavings fifty yards beyond the barn, hot on the trail of an invisible critter.
“Barbra didn’t take Bitsy to Burbank with her?” Strange she would leave the little dog. Horse people always took their dogs to shows. With the plethora of hawks and owls in Rancho del Zorro, it was a wonder Bitsy hadn’t already been scooped up by sharp talons and carried back to the nest to feed the baby raptors.
Luke opened his mouth to answer, but Barbra’s voice bounced off the barn’s high-beamed ceiling in response.
“There you are, honey buns!” Barbra trotted down the aisle, but instead of going after Bitsy, she went straight for Thunder’s head, dotting his muzzle with exaggerated kisses and sound effects. When she lifted her head and wrapped her fingers around the gelding’s halter, tiny horsehairs clung to her freshly lacquered lips.
“How’s my Thunder doing?” Her eyes skimmed past Randi like she wasn’t there.
The whites of the horse’s eyes showed.
Luke answered before Randi had a chance. “Perfect.”
“Good. I can’t have him getting stressed and off his feed. I’ve got deep-pocket buyers flying in from Florida next week. I’m hoping they’ll take him off my hands and leave me with a pile of cash.”
Randi forced a smile. So much for Barbra’s “precious baby.” “Did you decide to skip the show?” Give someone else a chance?
Barbra tossed her head. “If Thunder doesn’t eat his dinner, we’ll know something’s wrong.”
Randi was standing two feet away, yet to Barbra she didn’t seem to exist. What the hell? Further proof Barbra had been the one to get her bucked off Oro. Maybe Barbra actually felt guilty over what she’d done, and that was why she refused to look at her.
Luke spoke over Thunder’s topline. “You’re still going, right?”
“Going where?” Barbra’s face was blank.
Luke raised his eyebrows. “To the show.”
“Oh, yeah. Of course. I’m on my way. Turns out my classes are all late afternoon. The horses are loaded and waiting, but I saw your truck so I popped in to say hi.”
Luke put a hand on Thunder’s neck. “Well, good luck. Though it’s not like you need it.”
Randi looked at the ceiling. Oh for God’s sake. Did he really have to say that? Barbra had minimal talent for riding and training horses, so she bought her way to the top. “Bitsy’s out by the sawdust pile if you’re looking for her.”
Barbra lowered her eyelids and still refused to make eye contact. “I hope you left that brute of yours at home where he belongs.”
Randi imagined grabbing a hunk of Barbra’s thick black mane and giving it a tug.
Luke waved his hand in dismissal. “Shane’s a big teddy bear.”
Barbra made like she was leaving then twirled and struck a pose, tugging at her sweater so the lowered V-neck exposed her ample cleavage. She licked her lips then got busy plucking the horsehairs off. “Guess I better hit the road before all the good prizes are gone.”
Randi shifted her hold on Thunder’s lead rope. The horse closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. She rubbed his neck. Nervous, my ass. The only time he showed any sign of anxiety was when Barbra kissed all over his face. Randi picked up a comb from a nearby tack trunk and started working on Thunder’s mane.
“Take it easy with that brush,” Barbra said over her shoulder, “he’s very sensitive.”
She kept combing until Barbra was out of sight. “For God’s sake, Luke. Like I’ve never been around a horse before?”
“She doesn’t mean it in a bad way.”
“Really? How does she mean it?” Randi’s voice shook. She hated when it did that.
“Come here.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
She came round Thunder’s head and ducked beneath the crosstie rope. “Yes?”
“You look like you could use a hug.”
Luke’s arms circled hers, squeezing her shoulders, hands firm, yet gentle, on her back. The side of her face was smashed against his chest. She closed her eyes and took long, slow breaths. Luke smelled like horses and sweet hay. The scent that never failed to calm her, to bring her home. Her muscles went slack and there was nowhere else to go. He held her up as the tears flowed. She lost track of time, and when there was nothing left, she reluctantly pushed away from him. “I cried all over your shirt.”
“If that’s the worst thing I get on my clothes today, I’ll consider myself lucky.”
“Thanks. I’ll wash it for you.”
He grinned. “That’s okay. I might never see it again.”
She laughed and moved stiffly back to her post on the other side of Thunder.
Luke, who didn’t look tense at all, put his hands in his pockets. “Have you called your mother?”
“No.”
“You should.”
“I’m done trying. She ignored all my calls and messages and she had no business running back to my dad. He flirts with falling off the wagon on a daily basis, and my mother’s the perfect candidate to give him a push.”
“Doesn’t work that way. Hand me the strep syringe. Your mother’s not responsible for his sobriety.”
Randi passed him the syringe. He was right, damn it. But still… She twined her fingers through Thunder’s mane, watching Luke over the horse’s haunches.
“And you can never be done trying.”
She’d hit a sore spot. She wasn’t sure how long it had been since his mother died of cancer. He didn’t talk about her much.
Luke gave Thunder a friendly slap on the shoulder. “Okay. This one’s all done. You can put him away and get Charlotte. She’s the black mare at the end of the row.”
Randi led Thunder back to his stall and returned with the mare. Luke adjusted the brim of his baseball cap. A Padres logo today. She couldn’t help wonder if Barbra keep as close an eye on Luke’s headwear as she did?
Luke bent down to get something from his vet bag. “What’s the status on Gina?”
“A bunch of loose ends. Not much to tell.”
“Try me.”
“I hardly know where to start.”
“How about with Mel?”
She rubbed the back of her neck. The Advil and the coffee had helped a little, but if she moved her head too fast in any one direction, it still hurt. “I learned I’m not twenty-two anymore. I can’t go out drinking all night. Not without regretting it the next day.”
“I could have
told you that.”
“Yeah, well…” She took a swig from her water bottle. “Mel thinks Gina was keeping something important from her. She also claims she didn’t throw the rock—excuse me, the rose quartz—at Andrew’s window. It’s a love stone, she says, not something she would give Gina’s family. The only love there is lost.”
Luke rubbed circles in the black mare’s haunches to distract her before he stuck her with a needle. The man had skills. Charlotte would have paid more attention to a horsefly than the syringe. “And we still don’t know how Gina died? Right? What kind of poison it was?”
“Joe says testing for toxins is a time-consuming process of elimination. Remember Heaven’s Gate?”
Luke raised his eyebrows. “How could I forget? All those helicopters hovering like buzzards for days. Black shrouds, eunuchs, the Hale-Bopp comet.”
“Remember what they used for their suicide cocktail?”
“Some sort of pudding. No, wait. Applesauce.” He cocked his head. “It was applesauce, vodka and Phenobarbital.”
“Copeland told me his Tervuren is epileptic. Isn’t Phenobarb used to control seizures?”
“Can be. Definitely.”
“It’s a long shot, but we don’t have much else to go on.”
“Be discreet around that guy. What else you got?”
“There’s Mel’s stolen safe. According to her, they didn’t take anything out of her sister’s house except the safe. Not your typical robbery, but the safe did contain an unopened letter from Gina.”
“You’re right. That doesn’t tell us much. What’s Mel’s story?”
“I think she’s just young and confused. You know, how when you’re in your twenties you think you know exactly what you want from life and exactly how to get it?”
“You still are. In your twenties, that is.”
“Not for long.”
Luke’s hazel eyes sparked. “Do you know what you want?”
She smiled, letting him know she was on to him. He sounded like Dainsworth, but when Luke said it, she didn’t take offense. “We’re talking about Mel, remember? To answer your question, after spending the night on her sofa, I think she’s just lonely and trying to find herself.”