by Susan Union
Randi’s phone rang from where she’d set it on top of a tack trunk.
Luke nodded. “Go ahead and take it. I’ll hold the horse.”
She answered without checking to see who it was.
“Good morning.” Joe Reed’s voice. “I’m hoping we can get your mother into the station today.”
Randi drew a sharp breath.
“I just want to ask her a few questions. Nothing formal.”
“Uh…um…okay…but I’m not sure I can talk her into it. She’s been acting all skittish.”
“See what you can do. I’m telling you this as a favor. The next cop to call, or show up, may not see it that way. They may not be so friendly.”
“Oh. Got it. Can I have more time? She’s the type who likes to schedule things in advance.” Yeah, right.
Joe sighed. “I’ll give you twenty-four hours. A little over. Bring her in by tomorrow, Monday, by noon. Best I can do. I’m putting my ass on the line by stretching it out as it is.” Papers shuffled on his end. “Is there a reason why you can’t bring her in today? Other than that lame excuse you just gave me?”
“Tomorrow’s great. Thanks.” She hung up before he could change his mind.
Luke scrunched his brows. “How are you going to get your mother downtown by tomorrow when she’s in Colorado?”
“You heard that, huh?”
“Yep.”
“Guess I’ll have to work on my dad. Convince him to put her on a plane if he doesn’t want to see her in handcuffs.”
“I think if you explain the gravity of the situation, he’ll do what you ask.”
“Yeah. He’s still in love with her, no matter how much he denies it. He’ll have to be tough with her though. She never listened to him. I doubt she’ll start now.”
Randi dialed her father’s house. No answer. She left a message with specifics then did the same on his cell. “Maybe they took off to the Caymans to live happily ever after. I can see it now. My dad drunk on the beach and my mother sleeping with the guy in the next cabana over.”
“You could catch a flight to Denver this afternoon. Bring her back yourself.”
“True.” Last minute flights weren’t cheap. She could always put it on her credit card, though, and pay it off a month at a time.
Luke read her mind. “I’ll buy.”
“No. Thank you. I appreciate the offer, but I can’t let you do that.”
“An advance on your paycheck. How’s that?”
“Let me get in touch with my dad first. I’m sure he’ll call when he gets the message.”
Charlotte’s neck shot up and she perked her ears toward the barn door. Randi half-expected to see Bitsy blazing down the aisle way again. Instead, the outline of a human filled the opening, coming toward them, not in any hurry, and spoke with a trace of a drawl. “Is Randi Sterling here?”
A young man, early twenties, in Wranglers that hugged his legs but flared just enough at his boots, a long-sleeved button down, a shiny belt buckle and a cowboy hat atop a clear complexion with high cheekbones and big bright eyes came to a halt a respectful distance away. If he were a bit younger and Luke a tad older, they could have been father and son.
“Who’s asking?” Luke’s voice was gruff.
“Mel sent me. Said she might be here.”
“I’m Randi.”
The cowboy stepped forward and held out his hand. “Please to meet you, Miss.”
She shook his hand. “My pleasure.”
Luke shot her a look.
She smiled. “And you are?”
He took off his hat and smoothed a hand over his rumpled hair. “My name is Dusty Thorton. I drove in from Oklahoma City to talk to you about my aunt Gina.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Dusty’s bag landed on the bottom bunk with a whump. “What’s your boss gonna say about this?”
“About what?”
“About me crashing on your sofa—bed, whatever you call this thing.”
Dusty had asked if he could stay with her when they left Barbra’s barn. The question had caught her off guard since she assumed he’d been staying with his parents, Valerie and Andrew. “It’s a futon.”
“A what?”
“A sofa and a bed. Are you talking about Luke?”
“Who else?”
“Why would he care where you crash?”
Dusty picked up a kitchen chair one-handed, flipped it around and straddled it backward. “He doesn’t like me.” He hooked his boots on the wooden rungs, watching her.
“How do you know? You two just met.” Randi opened the refrigerator, hoping to conjure something up for the lunch she’d promised Dusty. Wasn’t much to choose from. He probably wouldn’t go for a mustard and pickle sandwich. Then again, guys his age ate anything.
“I saw the way he was eyeballing me.” Dusty shrugged off his earth-colored Carhartt windbreaker. His T-shirt strained at his shoulders. The boy looked like he either spent every waking moment at the gym or working the fields. Andrew, or Valerie, one of them, had said Dusty ran the family’s nightclub. The girls had to be falling all over each other to get to him. He seemed at ease with himself, comfortable in his own skin. A very attractive trait to add to his physique.
Randi envied that. She still squirmed in her skin. She unwrapped the bread, always a good place to start where lunch was concerned, and shuffled through the slices, checking for green spots. “Luke does that to everybody. You’re not the exception.”
“Don’t think so. I work in a club, remember? I know when a guy’s getting his rooster feathers up. Seen it a million times. When you offered I could stay at your place, the temperature in the barn went up a good ten degrees.” Dusty chuckled. “That poor fancy horse you was holdin’ practically broke into a lather, standing there doin’ nothin’.”
She flushed, facing the window above the sink, watching the hummingbirds dive into the bougainvillea. “That’s ridiculous. You’re Gina’s nephew. It practically makes us family. Besides, I’m old enough to be your—” She turned to assess him. No teenage acne, but not a weathered line on his face, either. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two.”
“I’m old enough to be your older sister.”
Dusty slapped his thighs. “Whatever you say, Sis. What’s for lunch? I haven’t eaten since Temecula.”
“Temecula’s not that far. Forty-five minutes with no traffic.”
“Still, I’m starving. My stomach’s eating itself.”
“What?”
“Just kidding. I am hungry, though.”
She flipped through the remaining slices of bread and found four pieces without green spots. Pay dirt. Now all she had to find was something to fill them. “Don’t worry about Luke. It’s not like we’re together or anything.” Saying it out loud left her with a day-after-Christmas feeling, especially with the hug he’d given her still freshly electric in her skin cells. “You probably just remind him of when he was your age.” She opened the freezer. “Now he complains about his back, his knees…”
“He’s not that old. Mid-thirties, I’m guessing?”
“Thirty-six.” Aha, half a package of lunchmeat from Costco, frozen so it wouldn’t go bad. She flipped it over. Age and variety unknown.
“Got some Indian in him.”
Removing the Ziploc, she shut the freezer. “You’re observant.”
“Like I said, comes with the job.”
“Luke is half Zuni. His mother’s side.” She banged the lump of mystery meat against the counter. Frost fell off the bag.
“Speaking of mothers, you’re probably wondering why I don’t want to stay with mine.”
“It crossed my mind. I figured you had a good reason.”
“My parents don’t know I’m here, and I don’t plan on telling them.”
“How come?”
He hesitated. “They…uh…they don’t like me taking time off from the business.”
“The nightclub?”
“Yeah.” His eyes
shifted to the floor. “The club.”
“That is what you mean, isn’t it?”
“Sure. Of course. What else?” Dusty became extremely interested in the wood grain on her desk as he rubbed his nose on the palm of his hand.
Same gesture his Aunt Gina used when she was lying.
He rocked the chair, leaning back on two legs. Randi curtailed the urge to scold him. She could speak her mind around Dusty and was comfortable around him, but she wasn’t ready to start nagging—yet.
Shane chose that moment to wander over to Dusty and shove his nose under his hand.
Randi laughed. “He likes you. Usually takes him longer than that to warm up to strange men.”
Dusty slipped his hand into his pocket. He fed Shane something crunchy. “I don’t go anywhere without dog treats.”
“You just made a friend for life. Does your family have other ventures?”
“Like what?”
“Come on.” She smiled, thought about what Mel had said and went for it. “Whatever it is, your secret’s safe with me.” Not exactly true. Not if it had something to do with Gina’s murder.
“Why are you asking?”
“The way you rubbed your nose just now. Gina used to do that.”
“Makes sense. Family members can have the same speech patterns or gestures.”
“She did it when she was lying.”
“When did you catch her in a lie?”
“She covered for my mom a lot when I was little. Nothing major. She’d say my mother made the cookies for my class when she bought them at the store, then she’d rub her nose like you just did.”
“At least it was for a good reason. You think I’m lying?” He didn’t seem angry, only curious.
“I wouldn’t come right out and say that. I don’t know you that well, but I have the feeling you’re not telling me all that needs to be told.”
Dusty leaned forward. The front chair legs hit the floor. “I never should have said nothin’ about it.”
Damn it. He wants to talk. I know it! Give him a little more time. “Hell of a drive from Oklahoma City. Don’t tell me you did it straight through?” Twenty-two-year-old guys weren’t the type to stop and give their hard-earned money to the Best Western, no matter how tired they were.
“Nah, I’ve got a friend in Albuquerque.” His mouth twisted in a shy smile.
“A girl?”
“Yeah. Then I came through Phoenix and jumped on the 10 to the 15. Easy.”
“Regardless, must be something real important for you to drive all that way.”
Dusty fed Shane another biscuit.
She shoved the lump of lunchmeat back inside the freezer. “You ever been to In-N-Out?”
Dusty perked right up, grinning like he thought whatever it was might be rated X. “What’s that?”
“It’s a burger joint. I’m taking you there. You’ll love it.”
Dusty stood and shoved his hands into the back pockets of his Wranglers. Same way Luke did. “No offense, but I don’t see how California beef can beat Oklahoma’s.”
“Get in the truck. You’re about to find out.”
Dusty grabbed his jacket. Randi collected her keys. Shane beat them to the door. He always got excited about car rides, especially when food might be involved, and he’d heard the words In-N-Out enough to know what they meant. His tail flapped even harder than usual and he stared at the front door like he could see right through it. She kneed him gently out of the way and twisted the knob. Luke stood with his fist in the air in preparation to knock.
“Hi,” she said. “What’s up?”
He didn’t look happy. Luke peered over her shoulder. “Dusty, grab your bag.”
“Okay.” He shrugged. “Why?”
“There’s no reason for you to stay here. I have plenty of bedrooms. You can take your pick, and I’ve got a fridge full of more food than you can stuff down those hollow legs of yours.”
“Whatever.” Dusty collected his bag and slung the strap over his shoulder, giving Randi an I-told-you-so smirk. “Lead the way, boss.”
Randi smiled at her boots. “We were just heading over to In-N-Out. Want to come?”
Luke rarely made time for lunch. He preferred to work right through it.
“Sure. We can hit the drive-thru on the way to the fairgrounds.”
Too funny. Silly actually, but his jealousy, or whatever this was, made her feel better than she had all morning, and her hangover was almost gone. “Why the fairgrounds? Did you find something?”
“I checked the trial schedule. Copeland and Zoom are doing an exhibition finale. I think we should check it out.”
“Okay, but Dusty’s parents think he’s holding down the fort in Oklahoma.”
Luke hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “You hiding something, kid?”
Dusty traced his fingers along his cowboy hat and plopped it on his head. “Let’s just say they wouldn’t be happy to see me.”
“I get it.” Luke smiled. “I was your age once.”
Now it was Randi’s turn to give Dusty the I-told-you-so stare.
Luke crossed his arms. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb in that hat. This is a dog agility trial, not a rodeo. I’ll give you one of my baseball caps to wear and you can borrow Randi’s ridiculously big sunglasses. Those two should disguise you pretty good.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “What sunglasses?”
“The pair you have shoved in the back of your kitchen drawer. The ones you swiped from Elton John.”
“What? Hey? How do you—?”
Luke held up his hand. “Don’t jump to conclusions. I wasn’t snooping. Remember a couple of weeks ago when you wanted me to help you measure for new blinds? You told me I could find the tape measure in the top drawer. I found everything but, including those funny-looking glasses.”
“I got them at a going away party when I left Colorado. They were a present, and they’re not funny looking. How can you say that when you wear those mirrored things like you’re a CHP?”
“Hey, you two, quit squabbling.” Dusty went to the drawer and helped himself to the glasses. “You sound like an old married couple.” The lenses covered half his face. He grinned. “These are great. Let’s go.”
****
Randi and Shane and Luke and Dusty carried their lunch bags toward the distant grandstands under a blustery sky. The cloud cover was solid, bringing with it cold gusts off the ocean and just enough moisture to make everything damp. Randi zipped her windbreaker as they walked.
Dusty copied her. “I thought San Diego was hot.” He looked around the fairgrounds. “Speaking of hot, where’re all the beach babes I always hear about?”
Luke smirked. “Come back in August. You won’t be disappointed.”
“Deal.”
Randi’s belly warmed at their banter. They’d finished marking their territory and the lines had been drawn, such as they were. Time to get down to the business of finding out who killed Gina and why. Dusty’s arrival had pulled her out of her funk. He had to know something of value, a clue as to why Gina was killed, otherwise why leave OKC and risk the wrath of the parents who gave him the nightclub job in the first place?
People bustled around, folding up wire dog crates, shaking out mats, collecting their possessions and packing them away for the journey home or the highway to the next trial. Watching them gave Randi the jitters. Tonight or tomorrow Gina’s killer could be long gone if they weren’t already, driving into the proverbial sunset, leaving her mother hanging in the wind if she didn’t show up downtown.
Halfway to the grandstand Randi handed the sack with her burger and fries to Luke, pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed her father’s townhome in Colorado. To her surprise, he answered. She slowed her walk, ducking under the shelter of an empty pop-up tent, pulling Shane with her and waving Luke on. She pointed to the phone and when Luke acknowledged he understood, she turned her attention back to her father, skipping pleasantries. �
��I know about Mom. Luke told me.”
“Randi? What’s going on?” Her father’s voice was thick with sleep as he fumbled for something. The distinctive click of a lighter was followed by a sharp inhale.
“Did I wake you?” It was twenty after twelve in California—an hour past that in Colorado. “No. No, of course not.”
His voice sounded dry and crusty. Left too long in the sun, and she could almost smell his breath over the phone—like something had crawled down his throat, drowned and was decaying in the puddle of whiskey in his belly. Luke had been right. Logically, she couldn’t blame her mother. Emotionally, she still did.
Frustrated, she tugged at her ponytail. Calling her father out on his drinking could backfire. He’d be embarrassed and would likely hang up. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Where is she? I need you to put her on a plane as soon as possible.”
“What’s the rush? Are you okay?”
He was always contrite after a night of drinking. She hated it. Both the during and the after. “I’m fine. The cops want to talk to her. If she isn’t here at noon tomorrow, they’re going to get suspicious.” She paused to let it sink in. “It’ll look real bad for her if they know she’s run off.”
“Suspicious of what?” He cleared the junk in his throat. “What do you mean, it’ll look bad?”
Great. What now? Tell him about her mother’s one-night stand? That because of her indiscretion, the police were working up the motive that she was mentally unstable and killed Gina to get her paws on Gina’s fiancé? Her dad had been hurt enough already to last a lifetime. Randi didn’t need to pile it on. “Wrong choice of words. That’s not what I meant.” Pinpricks of guilt for lying to her father, even for his own protection, dotted their way up her spine. “They need to question everyone who was close to Gina. Routine stuff.” She paused. “Mom told you what happened, didn’t she?”
“Damn shame. I always liked that girl.” He blew out a puff of smoke. The sound of the ashtray clinking against the table as he mashed out his cigarette was a familiar one. How many bad habits did one man need?