I stripped off my filthy clothes before I stepped out of the foyer. The clock on the DVD player flashed 12:00, indicating the power had gone off here, too. Still wearing only my bra and panties, I plucked up the receiver and dialed.
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Martinez’s greeting was: “Jesus Christ, Julie, where the fuck have you been for the last two days?”
In hell. “Aw. I missed you, too, sweetie pie.”
“Not funny.”
“Yeah, well, the past two days haven’t been a fucking yuk-fest for me either, pal. I got snowed in at the ranch with Daddy-O. So before you continue to bellow, let me say that the reason you didn’t hear from me was because my cell phone died. Oh, and lucky for me, the electricity was off in the whole damn county so the phones at the house didn’t work either. And I was fresh out of carrier pigeons to get a message to you.”
“Still not laughing, blondie.”
“Guess what? I’ve used up all my ‘meanwhile, back at the ranch’ jokes anyway.”
I think I heard him snarl.
“I’m exhausted, and I can’t stomach the thought of fighting with you, Martinez, so back off.”
“You done?”
“Yes.”
I waited, expecting he’d say something profane, but the pause lingered longer than usual.
“Look. I’m sorry you were worried.”
His anger pulsed over the phone line; I swear the receiver throbbed in my hand even after I’d apologized, which was a rare occurrence for me.
“Fine. Be an ass. I just wanted to let you know I wasn’t dead and lying in a goddamn river bottom someplace.” I hung up and stumbled to the shower. 127
I lingered under the spray until not a drop of hot water remained. I couldn’t get warm even snuggled in my super-duper thick terry-cloth robe. Wearing a towel wrapped turban-style around my head, I exited the bathroom and cranked the heater to the highest setting. When I rounded the corner to the kitchen, the front door opened.
Martinez stomped inside. He wore sunglasses and a heavy scowl. “Where’s the shovel?”
“In the back of my truck.” I started to tell him not to bother, but he’d do it anyway. The man had a weird obsession with shoveling, which made zero sense since he employed minions to do that sort of menial shit for him everywhere else he hung his leather coat. Why would he want do it here?
Who knew? He probably wouldn’t be straight with me if I asked him, so I didn’t bother.
I popped four Excedrin and returned to the bathroom to comb my wet hair. Still shivering in my robe, I was digging in the bottom dresser drawer for my fleece pajamas when I sensed him behind me. Mostly, I sensed him ogling my ass.
“I already told you, I don’t want to fight with you.”
“You think that’s why I’m here?”
“Maybe.”
“Why would you think I’d want that?”
I slowly straightened, glad he couldn’t see how much the simple movement hurt me. “Because after we yell and scream, clothes start flying and we’re 128
rolling around naked. Then I forget what the hell we were fighting about.”
“You dangle hot makeup sex in front of me and I might just pick a fight.” He gently turned me around. His eyes searched my face and I winced when his palm pressed too hard into my hip.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a sore spot.”
“Sore from what?”
“Forget it, okay?”
“No. Let me see.”
I sidestepped him and he stopped my retreat by latching onto my ribs. “Ow. Shit. Fuck. That hurts. Let go.”
“Then stand still.”
“Just—”
Martinez untied my robe, pushing it off my shoulders. His hands froze midair as he caught a glimpse of my various body traumas. Then his eyes narrowed and he assessed my injuries, starting with my swollen and chapped lips, and then the scratch trailing from my chin down my neck. His attention slowly drifted down my body to the bruises scattered around my rib cage like purple polka dots. He followed the pinkish scuff marks on my belly, which were parallel to the huge, angry red welt on my hip bone. And finally, his hard gaze gauged every cut and bruise on my thighs and shins.
He lowered his hands by his sides, clenching them 129
into tight fists. He didn’t speak. He didn’t look me in the eye. His breath came hard and fast–angry, like a bull fighting in the bucking chute.
“What did he do to you?”
Martinez’s menacing tone still had the power to scare the crap out of me. Chills broke out across my exposed skin. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Answer the fucking question. What did he do to you?”
“Nothing. It’s not his fault—”
Lightning fast, Tony’s thumb pressed against my lips as his hand snaked around my neck to keep my jaw from moving. His black eyes burned inches from mine. “Did you think you could hide this from me?”
“No. Let go. You’re hurting my mouth.”
Immediately, he dropped his hand but continued to stare at my distended lip. “That son of a bitch hit you in the face?”
“My dad didn’t do this. You know I’d never let him smack me around. Ever. Things got hectic when we were at the cattle shelter during the blizzard and a couple of cows stomped the shit out of me. That’s all, okay?”
“Cows? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No.” I sighed. “Will you let me explain?”
“Start. Now.”
I shrugged back into my robe and perched on the end of the bed while Martinez paced. The details tumbled out in a jumbled mess, as if the past forty130
eight hours happened to someone else.
“Now you know why I’m beat and beat up.”
“I cannot believe the shit you get into.”
“Literally. You should’ve seen me when I got home. No. Scratch that. I’m glad you didn’t see me. I was covered in cow shit and birth gunk and woodchips.” And hate. I tugged the robe more tightly, grateful it at least covered the physical scars—old and new. Nothing I could do about the emotional scars, but they weren’t readily visible. I glanced down at my chapped hands and ragged nails. Why was I always such a mess around him? Why didn’t he care?
My stomach trembled when Martinez knelt on
the floor in front of me. “You still mad?”
“No. I never was mad.” He set the side of his face on my thigh and lightly stroked the backs of my calves with his rough fingertips. “I was worried something else had happened.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you later.” He sat up. “First I need to take a closer look at you to make sure you’re all right.”
“Tony, I’m fine.”
“I’m not.” He smoothed his palm down the side of my head and twined my wet hair in his fingers. I was surprised his hand shook. “Julie. Let me do this.”
Why was he fussing over me? From guilt because we’d had a fight the last time we’d been together?
No. He’s doing it because he cares about you.
“Do it quickly, because I’m cold.”
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Martinez stood. “Hang tight.” He disappeared for a minute and returned with a bottle of peppermint schnapps. “This’ll warm you up.”
I swallowed two mouthfuls. The minty sweetness heated me from the inside out. Three more big gulps and I was completely relaxed, my limbs pliant, my head pleasantly muzzy.
His initial examination was very clinical. Testing my ribs for fractures, making sure the scratches weren’t infected, checking bruises for abnormal swelling. His second inspection was personal. Intensely personal. Every bruise, every cut, even the smallest mark received a tender caress and the healing touch of his warm mouth, until no part of my body had been left untended.
Those soft kisses and gentle strokes drugged me more thoroughly than the schnapps, soothing me with the lover’s care and concern that no other man in my life ever bothered with. Tony’s attention w
as so much sweeter because it was so unexpected.
I made a sleepy protest when he tucked me between my flannel sheets. Alone.
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
“You’ll stay?”
“Yeah. I’ll stay.”
“All night?”
“If that’s what you want, blondie.”
“That’s what I always want. Thank you for …”
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Everything seemed too broad, too telling, and I was too wiped out to come up with something raunchy that’d make him crawl in bed with me and forego all thoughts of sleep. “Thank you for being nice.”
“You’re welcome.”
The next morning I woke to the tempting smells of bacon and eggs and coffee. Martinez had prepared a feast and he watched me to make sure I ate every bite. Finally, he said, “I called Wells yesterday afternoon to let him know where you’d been.”
“Why?”
“He knew I’d been trying to track you down.”
I reheated my coffee and his. “Wow. You must’ve been desperate to contact him.”
“Smartass.”
“Bet he didn’t even know I was MIA, did he?”
“No. That first night of the blizzard some chick answered the phone. Thought I’d dialed the wrong number. So I called again. Evidently she’d gotten snowed in with him.” He dumped five sugar cubes in his mug. “Is she the new client?”
“I imagine. What’d Kev say when you talked to him yesterday?”
“Not much. He was on his way back from the airport. 133
Said to tell you not to come in today if you don’t feel up to it.”
I smiled at Martinez over the rim of my cup. “I feel up to a lot of things this morning.”
His I’d-like-to-have-you-for-breakfast bad-boy grin made my skin sizzle. “Oh, yeah? You admitting you missed me?”
“Mmm hmm. You wanna feel me up?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
His cell phone rang. It never occurred to him not to answer it. He said about two words and then, “On my way.” After draining his coffee, he stood to rinse his cup. He kissed the top of my head. “Hold that thought, blondie.”
I didn’t feel that great—then again, I lived on cigarettes, tequila, and coffee and was used to feeling lousy every damn day. Better to go to work than sit at home. On the drive into Rapid City I was stunned by the variances in the amount of snowfall. In some spots the fields were barely covered. The frigid temperatures lingered, the only snowmelt was courtesy of salt on the roads, and it hadn’t done much good. Piles of plowed snow lined the interstate, but it was nothing like the drifts at the ranch. Bear Butte County had been hit the worst, which wasn’t unusual.
Kevin’s Jeep was in the leased parking lot. I climbed the stairs. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee teased my senses when I opened the office door. Before I could boldly announce myself in case Kevin 134
and Amery were polishing the conference table again, Kevin appeared holding an HS Precision mug.
“Hey, Jules. How you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been a kicking post for a herd of cattle, thanks for asking.”
“Martinez didn’t go into much detail the last time he called.”
“The last time? How many times did he call you?”
“The first night? Four. Total? Seven.”
Whoa. I unwrapped my scarf and let my eyes drift to the conference room.
“Amery’s not here. She’s in Vegas.”
Thank God. “Doing what?”
“Travel agents’ conference. She was supposed to leave the day of the storm, but the Rapid City airport closed and she wasn’t able to get a flight out until yesterday morning.”
“How bad was it here?”
“They advised no travel due to the whiteout conditions. Amery swung by my place and ended up snowed in with me.”
“Lucky you.”
“Were you really stuck at the ranch, alone, with Doug?”
“Yeah. It sucked in more ways than I can get into. And I’d like nothing better than to pretend it never happened.” I detoured to the conference room and poured a cup of coffee. “What’s on the agenda today?”
“Not much. I’m surprised you came in.”
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I headed to my office for a cigarette to make my morning ritual complete. When I spun my chair around after firing up my computer, I was surprised Kevin sat across from my desk, looking … uneasy. “What?”
“I want to apologize.”
“For?”
“For letting Amery say what she said to you. She didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. You’re a damn good investigator. You found out more than I would have if I hadn’t been so goddamn busy thinking with my dick.”
“You’re admitting the little head led the big head astray? What’s next? You gonna take Kim up on her offer to teach you how to knit and start spewing Dr. Phil?”
“Fuck off.” He pointed his finger at me. “This is why it’s hard to be nice to you. Because you don’t know how to act. Or how to graciously accept an apology.”
My thoughts backtracked to Martinez’s ministrations last night. Talk about nice. Maybe I was only gracious to those who deserved it. I smoked, waiting for Kevin to get to the point.
“Anyway, while we were snowed in, Amery and I spent a lot of time talking about her grandfather. She didn’t want to hear it, but in the end she realized you were right.”
I sucked back a neener neener smart retort with a lungful of smoke.
“She told me when she returns from Vegas her priority will be to get him moved into the acute care unit 136
at Prairie Gardens.”
“Any idea on how she plans to do that? Management wasn’t too keen on helping Amery before, which was why she hired us.”
“She mentioned hiring a lawyer. Or at least contacting AARP to see if they can recommend an elderly rights advocate.”
“Smart move, allying with a qualified professional who’s better suited to deal with Vernon’s problems. She shouldn’t try to buck the system on her own.”
Kevin gave me a strange look.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just been a while since you agreed with me on anything.”
“Where’s the fun in that, partner?” I stared back at him with equal curiosity.
“What?”
“So this … thing between you and sweet young thang. What happens now?”
“What do you mean?”
“I assume we’re done working for her.”
He fidgeted, an unusual “tell” for him. “Yeah. So?”
“So why didn’t you jet off to Sin City with her?
It’s not like we have pressing cases. I can’t believe she didn’t ask you.”
“She did.”
“Why didn’t you go?”
Kevin’s sharp green eyes cut through the crap and right to the truth. “Because you were missing. 137
Martinez isn’t the only person who cares about you, Jules.”
A heavy pause hung like a slab of rotten meat.
“As far as what happens when Amery returns? I don’t know. I like her. She’s … different from Lilly.”
“Duh. Because she’s about twenty years Lilly’s junior.”
“Ha ha. If I recall, your former boy toy Kell was the same age as Amery.”
“True.” I ground out my cigarette. “Don’t know what it is, but Amery seems younger.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew her. In some ways, she’s old beyond her years.”
I so didn’t want to know if he was alluding to her sexual experience or his perceived age of her soul. Kevin’s cell phone jangled. He frowned at the caller ID before he answered, “Hello,” brusquely. The corners of his mouth turned up in a soft smile. “Hey. No, I’m sorry I didn’t recognize the number. I forgot you didn’t have your cell. How’s Vegas?”
I didn’t pretend I wasn’t eavesdropping. If he wanted a private
conversation he could skip out of my office.
“Slow down. I didn’t catch that.” His eyebrows drew together. “When? Why didn’t they get in touch with you before you left? Oh. Right.” Pause. “Amery, come on, doll, slow down. I can’t understand you.”
Doll? Eww. Then again, could be worse. At least he wasn’t calling her sugar tits.
“They’re sure?” His gaze snapped back to mine. 138
“No problem. Don’t worry; we’ll check it out. Yes, I promise. The minute I know anything. I can reach you at this number? Good.” Pause. “I know. It’ll be okay. Try not to think about it. I’ll be in touch.”
Kevin clicked his phone shut and stared at me—
through me, really—but didn’t offer a clue to the cryptic conversation.
“What’s going on?”
“Amery’s boss here in Rapid called the hotel in Las Vegas a couple of hours ago. She left an emergency message. Seems Prairie Gardens has been unable to reach Amery.”
“Why not?”
He scratched his jaw with the edge of the antennae.
“The day the blizzard hit she left her cell phone at the office. Then she spent the next day snowed in with me. She went straight from my house, to hers, to the airport, so they couldn’t reach her at home and the travel agency has been closed until today.”
“What’s so urgent?”
“Vernon Sloane is missing.”
“For how long?”
“That’s the thing. No one knows. They’re thinking since the day of the snowstorm. Since the day you saw him.”
A queasy feeling sloshed the coffee around in my stomach. “Did they talk to Luella? She was scheduled for a home visit with him later that morning.”
“No one has seen her either.” Kevin quit twirling 139
his cell phone and dropped it inside his suit jacket pocket as he stood.
“So what is the staff at Prairie Gardens doing to find him?”
“According to Amery, nothing.”
“Nothing? Then why the hell did they call her?”
“She doesn’t know. Whenever she calls back to get more information, they just put her on hold. She’s going crazy and asked if I’d—if we’d—go check it out.” He looked at me. Pleadingly.
Say no.
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