The Last to Know

by Michel Prince

  The Last To Know

  Book Two Of The Long Ranch Series

  By

  Michel Prince

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the web -without permission in writing from the author.

  “The Last To Know

  Book Two

  The Long Ranch Series”

  Copyright © 2015 Michel Prince

  Cover Art

  By

  Dusk Til Dawn Designs

  * * * *

  Photo Credit

  Royal Touch Photography

  * * * *

  Edited

  By

  Leanore Elliott

  * * * *

  Book Format & Print Design

  By

  Wicked Muse Productions

  Chapter One

  “Savannah. Savannah,” Curt her boss called, but she kept her face toward the street and held up her pack of cigarettes as if they were a stop sign. “Savannah this guy wants to talk to you.”

  She turned to see the balding manager in his standard white button down short sleeve shirt and khakis. Beside him was another middle aged man in a three piece suit. Not really the Discount Mart’s usual customers, too bad he was handsome for an old dude.

  “I’m on my smoke break,” she said when they approached as she tapped her pack and removed a cigarette. “Who’s the suit?” she asked with the cigarette between her lips.

  “Gareth Cook,” the man stated extending his hand. “I’m a lawyer downtown.”

  Savannah glanced at him and flicked her lighter. “You need something Curt?” she asked.

  “Be back inside in five minutes or consider yourself fired.”

  Savannah doused the flame and took her cigarette out of her mouth. “I’m supposed to finish a cigarette in five minutes?” She looked to the lawyer. “That seem feasible?”

  “I wouldn’t know.” The man didn’t seem to understand her humor…then again, most didn’t.

  “Five minutes Savannah,” Curt called and walked back into the store.

  “You might want to light it if you’re planning on getting back in time,” The suit said.

  “I don’t smoke,” she said and placed the cigarette back into the pack. “But they give smokers twice the number of breaks. All I have to do is say I’m going to kill the next customer if I don’t get a smoke break.”

  “Smart.”

  “What’s up Gareth? Why have you traveled to the part of Dallas where people only wear a suit in a coffin?”

  “My law office was contacted by one in El Paso,” he said. “I’m sorry to bring you this news. Your father has passed.”

  Savannah turned her head to watch the street traffic again. “You know my father?” she asked absently. “Because I sure don’t.”

  “I don’t, but the law firm in El Paso did. He set up a living trust with them naming you as the beneficiary.”

  Savannah turned to Gareth as she pushed herself up off the picnic table she’d been sitting on. “Wrong girl.”

  “Savannah Georgio,” he said with certainty. “Mother’s name is Katia.”

  “I’ve never met my father, even if this guy thought he was my dad I’m not really in the mood to drive to El Paso for a big screen TV and a stack of old photo albums.”

  “Lawyers are expensive. We aren’t really on the top of America’s philanthropy list.” The lawyer reached in his pocket and pulled out his card. “We don’t track people down for TV’s. Whatever this guy had it must be a lot. I’ve been authorized to buy you a bus ticket to Tender Root, New Mexico.”

  “Tender what? What happened to El Paso?”

  “Tender Root is a bit small. I assume having a bastard living in Dallas wasn’t something he wanted getting out.”

  “Don’t you lawyers have to keep quiet?”

  “We’re not perfect.”

  “Savannah,” Curt barked from the front door of the Discount Mart.

  “My dad just died. Give me a minute.”

  “Right, like you have a father,” Curt groaned. “Clean out your locker, you’re fired.”

  Savannah turned to the lawyer and crossed her arms. “Can you give me gas money instead of a ticket?” she asked. Yanks, a bar she worked nights at, could always let her punch in early and she could get better tips. “I do have a car.”

  “I can look into it, but they really need you to get there sooner rather than later. There’s some contention over the trust.” The lawyer glanced over at the store. “Did you want me to talk to your boss?”

  “I get eight bucks an hour to listen to people complain because the off brand DVD player won’t work. Thank you, no.”

  “Then you have nothing to stay here for, might as well head to Tender Root.”

  Savannah put her prop cigarettes into her purse and sighed. “Did you miss the eight bucks an hour part of my liberation speech?” She stretched and removed the binder holding her midnight colored hair in a bun. It tumbled down her back and she used her fingers to clear away the tangles. “Unlike you, I live in the real world where you need three jobs to survive.” Taking off her blue smock, she removed the black nametag and tossed it in her purse.

  “I’m sure money is involved in the trust. Could be enough to let you quit a job or two.”

  “The type of jobs I work, don’t give time off.” Savannah dug through her purse for her keys and gave the Discount Mart a salute. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she removed the polo she was wearing to reveal a body hugging camisole with the back strategically cut out.

  “Don’t you need to clean out your locker?”

  “Locker?” She laughed. “Lockers are for people who invest themselves in jobs. I would never leave a part of me in a place like that.” Walking to her beat up caprice she heard the man trying to catch up with her.

  “Look, I don’t get paid unless you show up there.”

  “What’s the finder’s fee?” she asked.

  The lawyer screwed his face and clucked his tongue.

  “That high huh?”

  “Let’s just say you weren’t exactly hard to find and I round up my billable hours.”

  “Gareth, you’re a man after my own heart. Give me half and I’ll wander to Tender Root.”

  “I’ll get you gas money, a fourth now and a fourth when you show up in Tender Root.”

  “You actually put a modicum of trust in me. That rarely happens.” Savannah had been curious about this man who called himself dad, a few days drive wouldn’t be too bad, if her car could make it. “All I have to do is check in with the lawyer in El Paso?”

  “Yep, you might not even have to go to Tender Root, but I think you’ll need to stay there for a day or two.”

  Looking at her backseat already set up as a bed for those nights when she only had a few hours between jobs, she sighed. “Give me the money.”

  * * * *

  “How’s my boy getting on?” Darla asked as she brought Clayton Long his burger basket and set Sunshine Parker’s down at the empty seat.

  “Why not ask him?” Clay asked. “He’ll be back from the bathroom in a minute.”

  “You and I both know he wouldn’t want to stress out his mama.”

  “Sunny is great. Walt and Tina love having him there. Uncle Henry j
ust loves knowing he’s sleeping by himself.”

  Sunshine Parker had recently taken up with Clay’s cousin Melody, which wouldn’t have been a problem if he’d been forthright with his intentions. He’d taken the coward’s way about it, but the Long clan can be a bit intimidating, so he wasn’t about to chastise the man.

  “I’m so happy he found someone as good as Melody to be with. She’s got a strong streak that I know will put him in his place, mixed with a lady that is always so elegant.”

  “I guess so,” Clay said as he squirted ketchup in the corner of his basket for the fries. “To me, she’s still Smelly Mellie.”

  “You boys,” Darla chided while smacking Clay’s arm.

  “How’s Race doing?” Clay asked. It had been almost five months since Darla’s husband had been fired from the Long Ranch. Since Clay hadn’t had a day in his twenty four years where the man hadn’t been on the ranch he missed him, even if he was a drunken son of a bitch.

  “Fine for now. That whole Federated Gas thing isn’t setting to well with the workers.”

  “It shouldn’t,” Sunny snapped as he took his seat at the table. “Those ass… bastards almost killed Mel.”

  “Now, how do you know that man had anything to do with it?”

  “Because I’m not a fool.”

  “Are you calling me one?”

  “No mama, I’d never do that.” Sunny took the top bun off his burger and squirted ketchup and mustard on it. “I just find it convenient that my father works for the people poisoning the town’s water supply and killing off the ranches.”

  “He just started there, he didn’t know what had been done in the past. And they are cleaning up the damage.”

  “Only because they got caught,” Sunny snarled. “Which is one more thing than that damn Julio got.”

  Julio was the man who’d almost killed Melody and did succeed in killing Conrad Winston his boss. Since the murder, Julio had been on the run and Conrad’s ranch was in limbo. Although, his brother and sister came back to help manage it, they were just place holders. At least that’s what Teddy, Conrad’s sister had told him.

  “Your father had nothing to do with that,” Darla said with a hint of pride that exemplified all that was wrong in Sunny’s life. If it hadn’t been for the Long’s, who knows what kind of asshole he would’ve grown up to be.

  “Last I knew, the cooks on the Death Star didn’t plan on blowing up planets, but you have to choose who you work for in life.”

  “Bringing out your inner geek,” Clay teased. “Does Mel know about this side of you?”

  “Who do you think made me watch a Star Wars marathon last weekend?”

  “That girl needs to heal…and quick.” Clay took a bite of his burger and a flash of light entered the Hard Root. He turned to see the outline of a very nice figure as the sun surrounded a woman he was sure couldn’t be from the area. He knew most of the eligible women in Tender Root and this figure did not belong…well, it belonged…and was long overdue to walk in here.

  When the door closed and lighting in the windowless bar took over, he was able to make out the alabaster goddess in the doorway. With thick bow lips and midnight colored hair cascading down to past her shoulders he couldn’t help but gape. Not the most attractive way to stare. He put down his burger and watched as she walked to the bar.

  Placing one foot on the rung around the base of the bar, she leaned on the brass bar that wrapped around the top.

  Darla had the privilege of speaking to the stranger and Clay tried to come up with a reason to approach the bar.

  “I’m out of ketchup,” Sunny said as he tossed the almost full bottle onto the table next to them. “Why don’t you see if my mom has more?”

  “This is why you will always be one of the Longs,” Clay said slapping Sunny’s knee and putting on his cowboy hat to make an official approach to the woman.

  She was wearing a set of Chuck’s, cut off shorts that let a bit of her ass peek out and a tank top. On her fingers, he noticed a set of rings, but not on any important fingers. Her purse was big and bulky, almost to the point of being a backpack in his mind. She’d plopped it on the bar top.

  “…that’s how you get there,” Darla said. “You want some food before you head out there? It’s quite a drive.”

  “I could used something.” The woman dug through her purse and found a few dollars.

  “How about I get your lunch?” Clay offered. “You seem new in town.”

  “I’m not Scarlett O’Hara, I tend to run from kindness when it comes from strangers.”

  “My bad,” Clay said and turned his attention to Darla. “I need more ketchup.”

  “I just filled the ketchup bottles.”

  “Things happen.” Clay took the bottle from the bar and headed back to the table.

  “Shot down that quick?” Sunny laughed. “You need to work on your approach.”

  “Well, she hasn’t been in love with me since she was five,” Clay snipped at his friend.

  “It was closer to nine, can’t help it that women fall in love with me at first sight.”

  “If that’s true, why don’t you see if you can get her number?”

  “I’m not suicidal.”

  “Chicken?”

  “This is a set up. I go over there, work my cowboy charm and she starts drooling, next thing you know I wake up with Melody standing over me ready to clip my manhood.” Sunny popped a few fries in his mouth. “I’ll pass.”

  “She only has one good arm right now,” Clay argued as he stretched out his long legs. “I’m sure she couldn’t do much with just the left hand.”

  “You’d be surprised.” Sunny raised his eyebrow.

  Clay decided he didn’t want to get that into his cousin’s sex life.

  “Excuse me,” the new woman in town said. “Darla said you weren’t some creepy sex fiend.”

  “When did I lose that reputation?” he asked Sunny.

  Sunny then covered his lips to hide the laugh.

  “I crafted that persona over the last few years.”

  The woman’s lip quirked up and he tried to not pat himself on the back for breaking the ice queen’s demeanor. He hadn’t had to be so reserved with a girl since college…and college sucked.

  “I’m Savannah, by the way.”

  “Clay,” he said extending his hand after he wiped it clean. “This is Sunshine.”

  “What are you two, strippers?” Savannah asked as she ran her eyes up and down Clay’s body.

  “Only for the right woman,” he purred.

  She seemed to listen as she absently played with the hat he’d been wearing. “Well, I need to get going.”

  “So soon? You didn’t even get lunch.”

  “I’m good. Thanks again for the offer.”

  “You heading out of town?” he asked as she started to walk away.

  “I guess so, but I’ll be around for a few days. Maybe one day, I’ll take you up on the offer.”

  “Where can I find you?”

  “The Winston’s ranch. I don’t know if it has another name.”

  “You from the EPA?” he asked.

  “No, I’m Conrad’s daughter.”

  * * * *

  Savannah sat in her car with the windows down as she made out the map Darla had drawn for her on an old menu. If she got stuck in the town for a few weeks, maybe she could pick up some shifts at the Hard Root. It’s not like she wasn’t used to having a job for only a short time. And if the patrons at night were half as hot as the two guys she’d talked to today, she was sure she could work some big tips with little trouble.

  “Your car will never get there if you don’t start it,” Clay said as he leaned on the top of her car and ducked his head down.

  At least six two with a wide frame he was the sexiest piece of chocolate she’d seen in awhile. His short goatee let her know he did take care of himself, although she couldn’t understand how in this heat he could be wearing jeans, cowboy boots and a long sleeve
shirt. Even with the sleeves rolled up.

  “I’m just making sure I’m reading the directions right.”

  “Darn, I was hoping you were waiting on me.”

  “You do have a big opinion of yourself. Which stage did Freud leave you in? Oral?”

  “Don’t you wish,” he goaded back. “If you want, you could follow me.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I live on the same road as Conrad…or did before Julio killed him. I’m sorry about your loss.”

  “I never knew the man, now I’m stuck cleaning up an estate. I probably should’ve just said fuck it, but I guess I at least wanted to check it out before I did.”

  “What did Freud say about daddy issues?”

  “Aren’t you the comedian?”

  “I do make women smile.”

  “By walking away?”

  “Fine, be a bitch, it’ll get you far in life.” Clay pushed away from the top of her car and started walking toward the pickup truck that Sunny was sitting in.

  Damn, he had a nice walk. “You said I could follow you?” she called.

  He turned. “Just to my ranch, the rest is on you.”

  “I’ll take it,” she said a bit relieved since Darla had circled Clay’s ranch on the map and it was a straight shot from his to her—Dad seemed like such a strange word for a man she’d never met before, but he was that, now wasn’t he. As she drove following the cowboy’s pick-up she found herself flashing back to her meeting in El Paso.

  “I came,” she said as she looked at the man sitting across from her. He was in a three piece suit only his vest was leather and he wore a bolo instead of a tie. She was surprised when this was the office she’d been directed to since the Dallas one was downtown and full of suits pretending to be Wall Street on the prairie. A strip mall next to a dry cleaner wasn’t her first thought. “Where’s the rest of my money?”

  “Money?” Dean Curry asked as he started to shuffle papers. “I don’t think you understand what’s happened with your father.”