Desperado: Deep in the Heart, Book 2

by Tina Leonard

  He heard Hera’s voice instructing Sloan in the background. “She says she knows you’ve got Stormy’s business card. Maybe you better give us the number where she can be reached, so we can ask her. That might simplify matters.” Sloan was silent for a moment, while Hera’s voice raged in the background. “’Course, Hera says she ain’t particular as to who calls her to find out if he’s there. She says maybe you oughta call Stormy, Cody.”

  Something tingled inside him, making his stomach tighten and pitch with excitement that didn’t feel good. “No can do, friend. I didn’t even keep the card,” he lied, staring at it as it lay in two pieces on top of the trash where he’d tossed it. “Truthfully, I think Hera better search elsewhere for Tate. Stormy’s engaged to be married and would show that loser—I mean, her prospective bridegroom—to the door.”

  “I thought you said you had a bone to pick with her,” Sloan said in a low voice.

  “I did, but I decided it was in everybody’s best interest not to.”

  “Did you chicken out?”

  “Hell, no,” Cody retorted. “Just think I oughta stay out of the woman’s life when she’s hooking up with another man.”

  “Well.” Sloan didn’t reply for a moment. “Once the ‘I do’s’ are said, you’re a casualty. Just a reader of the ‘Advice to the Lovelorn’ column.”

  “Guess so.” Cody wasn’t going to get drawn into that. “Tell Hera if I see Wrong-Way, I’ll rope him for her.”

  Sloan conveyed the message, but the phone line couldn’t disguise the crack of the front door as it slammed shut.

  “She’s pretty put out with Tate,” Sloan said.

  “I don’t know what she sees in that skinny, handlebar-mustached vaquero.” If he were Hera, he’d be looking in more profitable fields. He didn’t think Tate was ever going to do more than give lip service to his intentions. If she found him to drag him to the altar, Cody thought it’d be a miracle.

  “You don’t think he went to California?”

  “Naw. He’s hiding out. Going to lie low until Hera gets over wanting to marry him.”

  “He’d better never show his face around here again. Hera won’t take well to being scorned. She’ll flatten him.”

  It didn’t feel good to be scorned. Even though Stormy hadn’t really scorned him, Cody could sympathize with Hera’s feelings. What the hell did Stormy see in that old dude in a suit who’d been with her? His insides ran tight and prickly as barbed wire. “I don’t care what happens to Tate. I’ve gotta go.”

  “Be seeing ya,” Sloan said cheerfully. “I’m gonna hang around here for a while. Ain’t got anything pressing on my mind like you do, such as whether some sidewinder’s gotten the guts up to visit the woman I love.”

  “’Course, since you’re still celebrating your divorce, you don’t really give a damn who’s sleeping with the woman you love,” Cody snarled, goaded. He threw the phone down and exhaled a few choice curse words. He cared. He really did. He hurt so much he ached in places he hadn’t hurt before. But a man could only go where he was wanted. If Tate had gone to California, he would only succeed in making a fool of himself. Cody wasn’t about to do the same.

  Throwing himself into a recliner on a wave of self-righteous pity, Cody tried to get his mind on his work. Absently, he wondered how his mother was doing. She certainly hadn’t bothered to send a shout his way. He’d heard from her once, a casual, brief call that set a record for world’s shortest conversation between two people who loved each other.

  And Tate had gone missing. How could a man his age jump from irresponsible action to gutless action and wake up to look at himself in the mirror every morning?

  Sighing, he got up and roamed through the house once aimlessly. It was too quiet, too empty. Ma had been right. When had it gotten so damn depressing around here? When had his life gotten so out of whack?

  Since Stormy hit my porch. He hated to admit that to himself. Sometime he’d become an empty, dried-out husk. “No wonder Ma bailed out on me.” The realization pained him deeply. Fortunately, he still had Mary. Maybe he’d call over to Annie’s and invite himself to dinner so he could see the only person left alive who cared about him at all.

  Swiftly, he rang Annie’s number. “Hey, Annie,” he said, feeling immensely better now that he had a voice on the phone that was familiar and friendly. “Got enough for an extra mouth tonight?”

  “Sure, Cody. If you don’t mind me trying one more time to convince you to take Mary to California.”

  He’d forgotten about that. “I’m sure I can fend you off if the cooking’s good. What time is dinner?”

  “In twenty,” she told him, “so you’d best hurry if you want it hot.”

  “I’ll be there.” Hanging up, he stopped in front of the hall mirror to run a careless hand over his hair before slapping on his hat. He grabbed his truck keys and strode out the door, hurrying to his truck.

  In the house, the phone rang and rang before the answering machine clicked on. There was shuffling in the background, then the caller’s phone slammed down before anyone could speak.

  Twenty minutes later, Cody arrived at Annie’s house, hungry and ready to slide into the comfort zone of family. “Where’s Mary?” he asked, after shaking Zach’s hand and kissing Annie on the cheek.

  Annie turned to him. “Is she not with you?” She glanced past him to his truck.

  “No.” He shook his head. “If I’d known she was still at the set, I could have picked her up on the way.”

  “She should have been finished hours ago. She said she was going to walk up to your house and drag you over here for dinner.” Annie frowned and Zach looked up from where he was going over papers. “Didn’t she call you?”

  “No.” Cody rubbed his chin, thinking. “And I’ve been home a bit today. There was no message, either.”

  “That’s strange.” Worry leapt into Annie’s eyes.

  “I’ll drive over and get her,” Zach offered, standing.

  “No.” Cody held up his hand. “I’ll run back out. You two sit down and eat some dinner. We’ll be back before the beans can cool off.” He tried to sound calm, but his heart was jumping in his chest. Why hadn’t he thought to check at the set? He’d been so full of misery and self-pity ever since he’d seen Stormy with her elderly fiancé that he’d quit thinking right.

  “I’ve got a number for the set director I can call,” Annie said, digging through some papers. She punched some numbers into the phone, her eyes holding Zach’s in maternal worry. Cody envied the connection they shared, a soul-uniting that didn’t require words for reinforcement. “No one’s answering.”

  “Never mind. It’ll only take me twenty minutes to run over there.” He reached for his hat and went to the door.

  “She said the filming would only take an hour to wrap up, then she’d walk to your house,” Annie said, her voice disbelieving, as if she couldn’t accept that it had been five hours since she’d spoken to her daughter.

  “Maybe there’s a cast party, or she got hung up talking to some friends. I’ve got my cell phone if she calls you.” He didn’t waste any more words, heading to his truck, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. Mary didn’t have many friends. She’d been known to take off before.

  He had refused to take her to California. His niece was well-acquainted with the location of the bus station. “Surely to God,” he muttered under his breath as he fired the truck engine to life. Surely the lure of La-La Land and its starry glitter hadn’t proven irresistible to the child he loved more than his own life. The image of Mary alone on a cross-country bus filled him with sickening dread.

  When he reached the set ten minutes later, breaking a sound barrier for speed, he found it closed up and empty. Even Pick and Curvy had vacated their keg stools. He drove up to his house, in case Mary had let herself in. No one was there, and there was no message on the recorder.

  His stomach clenched in a tight fist of apprehension, Cody decided to check with the codgers. The
y sat on their wooden bench outside the post office, keenly watching the comings and goings of the townsfolk.

  “What’s happening, Pick? Curvy?” he asked, using nonchalance to cover his fear.

  “Nothing. Slow today,” Curvy replied.

  “Seen Mary?”

  “Nope.” Pick stuck a toothpick in his mouth in a side space where a tooth was missing. “She finished up early this morning with her part, then the set closed up after that. We’ve been sitting here since then.”

  “I see.” He slid a glance toward the bus station. It loomed large and ugly with its gray colors and the smell of exhaust. He thought he might throw up if Mary had left town—and she might have. It’d be best if he checked the outgoing schedules to see if any buses had been heading west. Casually, he said, “Guess I’ll mosey on.”

  “Looking for yer niece again?” Curvy demanded, his eyes lit by the first excitement he’d had all day.

  “Yeah.” Cody nodded curtly, not wanting to start any gossip about Mary running off again.

  “She ain’t been over there,” Curvy told him, jerking his head toward the bus station. “We’d have seen her.”

  Relief filled Cody for an instant, before Where the hell could she have gotten to? ran through his mind.

  “Thanks.” He reached under his hat to scratch at his head. “If you see her, tell her supper’s waiting. I want her to call my cell phone.” Patting his pocket, he reassured himself he still had it. Damn it! Where could the scamp have headed off to?

  “Want us to help you look for her?” Pick asked.

  “Nah. She’s probably gone over to a friend’s. Just let me know if you see her.” He backed up with a brief wave and jogged toward his truck. Mary, where are you?

  In a trailer on a rarely used area of Cody’s land, Mary watched Sam with terrified eyes. Why had she believed him when he’d told her how grown-up she was? He’d appeared to treat her like an adult just so she would trust him—and she had. Mary’s fearful gaze roamed over the disgusting things Sam had in the trailer. Ropes, which looked like good lasso rope. Lots of gloves. Of course, he was a stand-in stuntman for the film project, and supposedly a regular cowboy the rest of the time—or at least he’d said. Now she didn’t know what to believe.

  What she did know was that she was hungry. She was thirsty, and tired, and he wouldn’t let her leave the trailer. He just sat there staring at her with empty jet eyes. Every time she said her folks would be worried about her, he just shook his head. Mary knew Sam wasn’t afraid that they’d find her. Everybody on the set had gone into town to celebrate wrapping up the project and do some last shopping for souvenirs before they started packing up. It could be days before anyone thought to look back here for her.

  What was he going to do to her? Mary watched, paralyzed, as Sam got to his feet and walked toward her. He slowly ran his hands through her long dark hair and she closed her eyes, wishing with all her might that Uncle Cody would come busting through the door to rescue her. Please, Uncle Cody! Hurry!

  Perplexed, Cody tapped his fingers on the counter in his kitchen. Knowing she would have called if she’d heard from Mary, nevertheless, he rang the house. “Any word?” he demanded when Annie answered.

  “No! Cody, I’m really uneasy about his. I have the strangest feeling that something’s wrong.”

  Annie panicking wouldn’t be good for the baby she carried inside her. “Let Zach and me do the worrying,” he instructed gruffly. “I’ll find her.”

  “Should you call Sloan?”

  “I may go ahead and do that. I’ll call you shortly.” He hung up and called the sheriff to alert him to the situation.

  “You don’t really think she’s gone to California, do you?” Sloan asked.

  “No,” he said slowly, “she hadn’t been to the bus station.” She’d hitchhiked over to see Stormy at the hotel once, though, and he couldn’t put that out of his mind. “Most likely Mary didn’t have enough money on her to buy a ticket to California.”

  “There’s that,” Sloan agreed. “Don’t think she’d be at a friend’s house without calling her mom.”

  “No. Not these days.”

  “Well, some of the cast are in town. I’ll go check around and see if anybody’s seen her.”

  “Thanks.” Cody hung up, unable to put off the one notion that bothered him more than anything. One way or the other, she might have decided to get to California on her own. Racked by indecision, he pulled the two pieces of white paper from the top of the trash and stared at them. There was no way around it. He was going to have to call Stormy; his mind wouldn’t rest until he did.

  Resolutely, he dialed, his heart thundering as he waited.

  “Hello?”

  His insides went to jelly at the sound of her voice.

  “Stormy? It’s Cody.”

  “Cody!”

  “Got a minute?” He hated to think that he’d interrupted anything she and her elderly fiancé might be up to.

  “Yes, I do. Is everything all right?”

  “It’s fine.” No, it wasn’t. “Lost track of Mary, though.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. Why are you calling me?”

  He thought Stormy’s voice was a bit cool, somewhat remote. Pressing his palm against the side of the counter so hard it hurt, he tried not to think about how good it was to hear her voice on the other end of the line. He had really wanted to talk to her. “I don’t know. A hunch. You got her all excited with that flighty idea of going to California.”

  “And you thought I was hiding her out here?” Stormy’s voice had turned to ice.

  “Not hiding her. Thought you mighta heard from her.”

  “No. I haven’t. Better check closer to home.”

  “I have. The set’s closed up and she’s not in town, that Pick and Curvy have seen. And they see about everything.”

  “I can’t help you, Cody,” Stormy said, her voice reluctant and strangely aloof, “but I can tell you that Mary isn’t on her way out here. I wouldn’t encourage her to leave home, anyway, and would call her mother immediately. For that matter, I’d bring her back on an airplane myself. But what makes me mad is that you think Mary would do something so thoughtless, Cody.”

  He straightened, taking his palm away from the counter. He didn’t need the pain to keep him from focusing on Stormy now; she’d just sent a barb out that had his complete attention. “What do you mean? She’s run to you before.”

  “But she’s changed, Cody! I’m sorry you haven’t noticed. Mary isn’t the depressed, withdrawn little girl I met when I first came to Desperado. She’s happy, effervescent, shining with hope and discovery of talent that’s all hers. That’s why I invited her out to California. Not to get under your skin,” she said sarcastically, “but to give her a chance to succeed. She’s quite special on the screen, not that you probably ever had time—or interest—to find out for yourself.”

  “I went around when I could.” He felt very defensive about this.

  “Fine. And what did you notice, when you could?” she demanded.

  “That she seemed to be having fun.”

  “Okay. Did that clue you in to anything? Like maybe, Mary being happy was a far cry from how she was a couple of months ago?”

  “No,” he said slowly, hearing the anger in Stormy’s voice more than anything.

  “Of course you didn’t! To you, it was child’s play, Mary amusing herself. You were tolerant while she had her fun, weren’t you, Cody? Did you ever stop to think that she might really have a natural talent for acting?”

  “No.” He was reluctant to admit it. Sounding like an ass wasn’t pleasant, and that was what Stormy was painting him to look like.

  Stormy sighed heavily. “Look. You didn’t take me seriously when you met me. Basically, you thought I was a flighty woman with a squirrelly occupation you didn’t deem important, or worthwhile, because it wasn’t what you were used to. You did the same thing to Mary, overlooking the shine that came over that child because s
he’d finally found something that made her feel good about herself, gave her something to work for.”

  He hung his head, trying to see this new angle. “Maybe.”

  “Okay.” She sighed again, this time as if she were drawing in patience. “Mary isn’t here, Cody, because she wouldn’t have run away again. She’s not unhappy. The last time I saw her, I had tears in my eyes for how much she’d changed. Grown up. I’m so proud of her. You need to be, too.”

  Rubbing underneath his chin, he said, “I am. You’re right. She was going in a direction with this acting thing I wasn’t comfortable with. I didn’t pay it much attention.” Actually, he’d paid Mary’s newfound excitement damn little attention, waiting it out until the set closed up shop and moved off his land. He’d been counting the days until the project was finished. Obviously, he should have been paying attention to a lot of other things. “So. Got any suggestions as to where she’s off to?”

  “Without being there, no. You didn’t have any fights or arguments?”

  “No. I mean, I wouldn’t bring her to California, but I think…we didn’t fight about it. I just said no.”

  “I see.” Silence on the line seemed to reveal Stormy’s feelings of what she would likely call his pigheadedness. “Then I would call the sheriff and his deputies and every other soul in the town to look for her because if she’s been gone long enough for you to phone me thinking she was coming this way, then something’s wrong.”

  Cold fear snaked into his stomach. “You really think so?”

  “I damn well think you’d better get off this phone and start hunting for her right there in your own backyard!” she shouted impatiently, uncharacteristic for Stormy. “Do you always need a neon sign, Cody, to tell you when you’re wrong?”

  His concentration had shattered. Stormy had convinced him beyond words that he’d been on the wrong track. “I’ll call you when I find her.”