by Aimée Thurlo
Ben glanced at the safe’s inside shelves stacked high with ledgers and records on disk and paper. “Dad must have been forced to give up the right combination the night he—”
“Yeah, but the inner box, the one with the store’s cash and checks, is still locked tight. He didn’t get in there, and I don’t see anything missing. What the hell was he looking for?” Standing, she looked around. “He didn’t even ask for my keys.”
“You three either just laid eyes on my dad’s killer or someone who works with him. Call Detective Wells,” Ben said.
Jo nodded, looking up the number. Maybe it was time to let the detective know about the caller and his threats, too. Next time, the gun might be for real, and she couldn’t risk everyone else’s lives.
“The robber was probably watching the place, then moved in as soon as the coast was clear—no customers in the store,” Ben said. “I should have been here.”
“That would have only changed his timing. He may even have staked us out for a couple of days, looking for the best time,” Jo said, looking up as the back door opened.
“Back from lunch,” Regina said. “What’d I miss?”
* * *
While waiting for a deputy to arrive, Jo confirmed that nothing appeared to be missing except for the cash from the one register that had been opened—less than two hundred dollars. Leigh Ann and Esther confirmed that the Navajo rug display had been sorted through, and that the unlocked storage drawers had all been rifled, but nothing else was missing. He hadn’t even tried to force open the display cases, enclosed in clear Plexiglas and virtually unbreakable.
A deputy arrived—Detective Wells was on another call—took their report, the physical description they had of the robber, and left with the plastic revolver. He promised to pass his report to Detective Wells.
Jo encouraged everyone to go back to work, and their routines were reestablished quickly.
Moments later when Leigh Ann appeared at Jo’s door, she had a smile on her face. “I just found the checks. Ben must have set them down by the register when he came in. You want me to hand them out?”
“Go ahead.”
Leigh Ann seemed to hesitate, and that caught Jo’s attention. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just something I overheard earlier today, before all the excitement. I’ve been wondering if I should say anything.…”
“Does it concern the trading post?”
She nodded. “And Ben Stuart.”
“Come in and shut the door behind you,” she said. “Now what’s up?” she added, after Leigh Ann took a seat.
“I overheard Ben asking Regina if you and Tom had a thing going,” Leigh Ann said.
“A thing?” Jo took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it wasn’t working. “How did Regina react?”
“I didn’t hear what she said, but Ben walked away looking really embarrassed. You want me to tell him to get his sorry butt in here?”
“No. He and I will step outside and have a talk. I don’t want anyone else to overhear what I’ve got to say, especially any customers.”
Leigh Ann nodded once. “Go ahead, hon. I’ll hand out the paychecks while you’re busy reaming him out.”
Jo found Ben standing behind Regina, who was busy checking out a good-looking Anglo cowboy near the roping saddles.
“Ben, a word, please?”
He followed her outside through the storeroom and down the steps of the loading dock. “Where we going?”
“Why are you being such a bonehead?” she said, spinning around to face him.
“Bonehead?” His mouth twitched, but he stopped short of cracking a smile.
“Listen up. I thought we’d settled this. I was not having an affair with your father, you dumb-ass.”
He blinked, but said nothing.
“I adored your father, but not in the disgusting way you’re trying to suggest. Your dad was my friend. After my dad became bedridden, I stopped having a life. My entire day revolved around his needs, and I spiraled into a depression that nearly destroyed me. Your dad stepped in just in time. He helped me see that I didn’t have to stop living because my dad was dying, and that sometimes when we’re doing all we can do, it has to be enough. I owe him for that and all the other times he was there for me. That’s why I’m not punching you in the nose right now.”
“Oh, now I’m really scared.”
She glared at him, took a step away, then whirled and slammed her fist into his jaw.
SEVEN
She should have aimed lower. “Ow, you dirtbag!” she said, stepping back, cradling her injured hand. “You have a chin like a rock wall.”
“Are you okay? You should have just slapped my face or punched me in the gut. At least you wouldn’t have risked breaking your fingers.”
“Don’t you dare patronize me! The only reason I invited you into my trading post is out of respect for your father. You, I can do without. If you ever go behind my back again, you’re out of here. Clear?” She strode back to the loading dock.
He caught up to her on the steps and placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
His eyes held hers with an intensity that took her breath away. She turned away, glad for the pain in her hand that demanded her attention. It was a much-needed distraction. As she looked down at the redness already there, she gritted her teeth.
“Put some ice on it, sooner the better,” he said.
“No time, I need my hand. I have to make a call. There’s a patron of ours who wants a special order…” she said, then winced as she glanced down at her knuckles. Her index finger was starting to swell.
“Get some ice on that or you won’t be able to use your hand for a few days. While you do that, I’ll make the call for you. I can be one helluva salesman. Trust me.”
“Trust is in real short supply between us right now.”
“You’re right, so let me redeem myself.”
As she looked into his eyes, she remembered the boy with the penetrating gaze that had always made her heart beat faster and her brain go blank. She looked away, refusing to dwell on memories. That was then; this was now. Too bad that he looked better than ever. Thinking of appearances, she looked at her hand and tried moving her fingers. Another knuckle was starting to swell and her whole hand felt stiff.
“I’ve had that same problem, slamming my hands into something—or someone. Like I said, a little ice, the sooner the better, and you’ll be as good as new. You didn’t hit me that hard.”
“Thanks. That just makes me want to try it again.”
“I’ll give you one free shot when your hand heals. How’s that?”
There was a contagious grin on his face, and she had to bite back a smile. “Next time I’ll aim for your balls.”
As they went inside, Esther glanced at her, then at her hand, but didn’t comment. Leigh Ann’s focus was instantly on Ben’s face.
“Somebody needs some ice,” Leigh Ann said without asking for an explanation.
Moments later, Leigh Ann walked inside Jo’s office carrying a plastic bag filled with ice. Ben had gone directly to his father’s old office and was already on the phone.
“You socked him in the jaw, didn’t you?” she said, then seeing Jo nod, continued. “I’ve got to teach you a few things. Before I married Kurt, I served drinks in an El Paso titty bar, and it seems like every shift some cowboy or roughneck tried to grab my ass. I had to haul off and slap my share of drunks and horny morons. Rule number one is never aim for something as hard as your fist. Slap them across the cheeks, or punch them in the package if they’re standing. You can also stomp their toes. Knees or heels are the weapons of choice.”
“I just wanted him to shut up.”
Leigh Ann chuckled. “I hear you, but sometimes it’s better to just walk away. You’re not really going to change anything. Fight the battles you can win and forget the rest.”
As Leigh Ann left, Jo continued to hold the ice bag over her hand. Minut
es ticked by, and after a while her hand began to improve. This time when she tried to flex her hands, her fingers actually cooperated. The swelling had gone down by half. Maybe it was just the cold numbing things, but either way, it helped.
Hearing a knock on her door, Jo glanced up and saw Ben.
“I spoke to Herb Matthews,” he said. “I’m not sure we can fill his order. To be honest, I’m not sure anyone could.”
She waved him to a chair. “Tell me what he needs.”
“He’s been working with some special art students—elementary school kids. Herb wants them to learn to see with their hearts and their imagination, not just try and copy what’s before them. To that end, he wants to commission a special sculpture. He wants something that shows perception, imagination, and spirit, not just a statue, ‘no matter how beautifully rendered’—and those were his precise words. Herb’s going to keep it hidden in a box so the students won’t be able to see it at all. They’ll only be able to reach inside and touch it. Then they’ll have to draw what they’re able to visualize from that limited exposure.”
Ben handed her a sheet of paper. “That’s what he’s willing to pay, but finding an artist for a job this difficult to define is going to be nearly impossible. And if Herb isn’t happy with the results—”
“That won’t happen. The trading post has dealt with him for years. Call him back and tell him we’ll accept the project. Once we confirm that fee with the artist, he’ll need to pay half up front, as usual.”
“Okay,” he answered with a shrug.
She stared at the figure Matthews had quoted Ben. Their portion of the sale would carry them nearly a month, and that would buy them vital time. Hopefully, between now and then, business would pick up.
While Ben left to make the call, Jo used another line to try to track down the one artist she knew would be ideal for the job—Melvin Littlewater. The Navajo sculptor was legally blind—the result of an accident with a drunk driver—and not easy to work with at times. Yet his creations were unique and highly sought after because they seemed to have a life of their own. What he’d lost in sight, Melvin made up for in perception and heart.
There was only one problem. She’d been trying to get hold of Melvin for days now, hoping to touch base now that she was the new owner, and hadn’t had any luck. She’d tried everything she could think of, but Melvin’s cell phone appeared to be turned off. She’d also tried the secondary numbers she’d been given, including his relatives and suppliers, but still hadn’t been able to contact him.
That usually indicated that Melvin was in one of his dark moods, which meant locating him would be all but impossible. Since his accident, he’d occasionally go into what Jo thought of as his isolation periods. Yet during those times, his work never suffered—in fact, it was just the opposite. Whatever he produced would show real artistic genius.
Ben came back in. “That money’s as good as in the bank. Matthews is already convinced that we’ll find the right artist for the job, so he’s going to hand-deliver his check by the end of the day.”
Jo invited him to look at the screen. “This is why that was so important to us,” she said, showing him the account after the payroll, and less the $203 taken by the robber.
“I’m no business major, but I’d guess there’s only enough money there to pay bills and payroll through the current quarter. Isn’t that cutting it pretty close?”
“Unless business picks up at least to last month’s level, and stays there, we won’t be able to make it through the fall. That’s why it was so difficult to let Regina work extra hours, but she’s in a tight spot and needs help. We don’t really have the money to spare, but she’s part of the trading post family.”
“Their personal lives aren’t your problem. You’re giving them a job. That should be the extent of your involvement with your employees,” Ben said.
“No. Everything is connected, and what affects one, affects all. Without honoring those connections, there’s no harmony and no one can walk in beauty.”
“You’re a small business owner now. Maybe it’s time for you to shift your priorities and focus on the bottom line. If you can’t stay in business, nobody will have a job, not even you.”
“I’m Navajo, and I’d like this business to reflect the values I’ve been taught.”
“How would my dad have handled this situation?”
“First of all, he wasn’t Navajo. I also can’t speak for him, but I can tell you this. Your father had his own set of values and never put profits ahead of people. He treated everyone fairly and lived in harmony … until this past month, that is. Something had been bothering him.”
“What do you think the problem was?”
“I really don’t know,” she answered. Technically, she wasn’t lying. She still had no idea what Tom’s killer was after. “Your father and I worked together, but to him, any conversation that dealt with feelings was just ‘girl talk.’”
Ben laughed. “That was him, all right.”
“I miss him,” she said softly.
“Yeah, me, too.”
Neither said anything for several long moments, silently mourning the man who’d been such a huge part of their lives. Jo looked around the room, then sighed. “All that’s happened since your father’s death leads me to believe that he was killed because of this trading post—either the place itself or something inside here. I have no idea what it could be, but it’s possible everyone who works here may be in danger,” she said. “First it was the burglars in that green pickup, then today another robber confronted us in broad daylight. This time we got off lucky. Next time, his gun could be real and the stakes higher.”
“My father may not have confided in you, but you might know more than you realize. The way I see it, nobody alive knows more about this place than you do.”
“Maybe so, but I still haven’t come up with any answers,” Jo said.
“Could be that the robber found what he wanted and has no reason to come back,” Ben said.
“I hope it’s true, but we can’t afford to assume that.” Her stomach growled loudly, and she reached for the candy bar at the corner of her desk.
“Is that all you’re having for lunch?”
“Yeah. This’ll give me fast energy. I need to make some calls and get some paperwork done.”
“Sounds to me like you could use a good dinner and maybe a dependable bodyguard to share some downtime with,” he said. “How about I take you out this evening for a decent meal? I’m good at guarding and eating.”
“Dinner … I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? You have to eat, and it’s not like we don’t have a lot to talk about. Besides, I’m tall, strong, and handsome. Well, taller and stronger than I was. The handsome part, well, that’s nothing new.”
“Since when did you become so humble?”
“I’m twice as good-looking as I say. That’s humble. So how about it?”
“Okay,” she said, laughing. “As long as it’s not a date.”
“It’s dinner. You can call that whatever you want.”
“Afterwards, I’ll have to come back here. I need to work late tonight.”
“No problem, just keep the doors locked tight.”
As her phone rang again and she answered, Ben slipped out of her office. She spent the next twenty minutes calling various places and leaving messages for Melvin, but so far, no one had seen him.
Frustrated, she began pacing. She wasn’t at all sure what to do next. They’d already accepted the commission, or soon would. She had to find Melvin. They needed the money, and Melvin’s skills made him the perfect choice. She’d go to his home, but unfortunately, she had no idea where he lived.
Leigh Ann came in holding a cold soft drink and placed it on her desk. “You look worried. Is there anything I can do?”
“I’ve been trying to track down Melvin,” she said, filling her in. “At first, I was just going to ask him if he had any new sculptures we could
buy and put up for sale, but now I have a special job for him. The problem is I can’t seem to make contact.”
“I may be able to help. Melvin and I … have a special connection.”
“I had no idea you two were involved.”
“No, it’s nothing like that,” Leigh Ann said quickly. “He and I understand each other, that’s all. Have you noticed that he gets gruffy when anyone else tries to help him through the store? Yet if I’m here, he’ll ask for my hand and let me lead the way.” She smiled. “He makes me feel beautiful in all the ways that really count.” She gave Jo a hesitant smile. “I don’t think he means anything by it, but I’d like to believe he and I are more than just business acquaintances.”
“Then how about locating him for me? Tell him about the special order, and see if he’s willing to take it on,” Jo said, giving her the notes she’d taken and the details. “I’m between a rock and a hard place right now, Leigh Ann. We need some positive cash flow for a change. I could really use your help.”
“I’ll get started on this, then,” Leigh Ann said.
Jo worked hard for the rest of the day. Unfortunately, sales remained unspeakably slow. By the time the trading post closed for the day, she was worn out, but her work was far from done.
“Where do you want me to pick you up for dinner?” Ben asked as she checked the front door locks one more time. The rest of the staff had already left, and only the storeroom lights were on.
“Why don’t we keep it simple, Ben? The sandwiches in the cooler are fresh, and we can grab a couple of Cokes and eat in the break room.”
“No, I think we should both get away from here for a bit,” he said. “Let me take you to the Steak-Out. It’s not fancy, just a family place, but the food’s great—according to Del, your stockroom guy.”
“Sounds good.” Jo accompanied him out the back, then double-locked the door and checked the knob. The outside security lights would be coming on soon, since the sun had already set. She looked anxiously down the road, wondering if they should have a gate put in and keep it closed after hours.