Weston

by Dale Mayer

  “So she did know it was him then?” Weston asked to clarify Grant’s earlier story.

  He nodded. “I wanted to believe she didn’t know, but there was no way I could, when she blurted it all out.”

  “Right. Well, son, you got a pile of trouble on your hands,” the detective said.

  “You’re not kidding,” he said, “and then that stupid bitch showed up.”

  “What bitch? Your wife?”

  “No, the one who was with the loan shark. Both of them out of Vegas,” he said. “She said she could score up here too. But then something happened between her and the loan shark, and he up and left her behind.”

  “Are you talking about Angel?” Weston asked, dumbfounded.

  Grant looked over at him and frowned. “Yeah, Angel. What do you know about her?”

  “I know she’s nothing but trouble,” he said. “Any idea what she’s doing here?”

  “No. Something about a baby, but she didn’t look like she gave a shit about the kid, just that she had a deal going.”

  “Sounds like something Angel would try,” Weston said, disgusted.

  “I don’t know,” Grant said, “she was kind of unnerving.” He looked over at the sheriff. “I can’t stay here in hiding forever,” he said. “You might as well take me in.”

  “I’d like to,” he said, “but you’re the one holding the handgun.”

  “I know,” Grant said. “A lifetime locked up or eat a bullet.”

  “Don’t eat a bullet,” Weston said. “There’s always another answer.” Then another loose thread surfaced in his mind. “Was that you taking potshots at me earlier?”

  “Yeah, too bad I missed. However, I could kill two more,” he said, looking at the men before him, as if contemplating it. The detective shook his head. “And then you’ll just get hunted down, and you lose your home anyway.”

  “It’s gone already,” he said. “Apparently my bloody brother and my lovely wife mortgaged the hell out of it and took the money. Paid the loan shark, and he’s gone, but now I’ve got nothing but a massive mortgage.”

  The longer he talked, the more he stared at the gun. Weston was afraid he would do something serious about all this. That was not how Weston wanted this to end, but unfortunately he had no way to know if that was on Grant’s mind or not. He just didn’t trust him.

  “There’s always another answer,” Weston said in a calm voice. “I’m sorry that things turned out the way they did, but—”

  “Not for me,” Grant said, as he fired a single shot.

  Chapter 17

  When Weston walked up to the front door, the look on his face had Daniela racing toward him. She came to a stop about four feet away, her eyes round and her hand going to her mouth.

  He held a finger to his lips and said quietly, “I’ll go have a shower.”

  She nodded mutely, studying the bloodstains all over his shirt. She swallowed hard. “Is any of that blood yours?”

  He gave her a small grin and shook his head. “No. It’s Grant’s.”

  Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Did you have to kill him?”

  “No,” he said, “but, once we had him cornered with the truth, he ended up blowing apart his own head.”

  Her mind flashed on the image. “Well, as much as I’m glad it’s not you, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  He acknowledged her concern with a nod, followed by a shrug that only partially hid the pain. “I’ve seen it before,” he said. “Unfortunately war leaves us with images we can never get rid of.” And, with that, he took the stairs two at a time to get out of sight before Sari saw him. Daniela appreciated his concern, although, at her age, Sari probably wouldn’t understand what the blood was anyway. It was more the pain in his eyes that bothered her.

  Just as she headed back to Sari, her phone rang. It was her sister.

  “Are you sure you want to cancel?” she asked. “I was thinking about it earlier, and I’ve been pretty rough on you. Maybe if you did spend time with him alone, you would see he isn’t what you want.”

  At that, Daniela rolled her eyes. “I get that you don’t want me to have a boyfriend,” she said, “but I’m not at all sure that’s the role he would take.”

  “I didn’t say that,” her sister protested. “It’s just not been all that long.”

  “It was well over a year with a cheating, lying husband at the end, who I nursed out of duty rather than love,” she said. “Exactly how long do I have to wait before I’m happy?”

  Silence. “I’m sorry,” Davida said in little more than a whisper. “You’re right, and, if you do decide to go out tonight, let me know. I would be more than happy to come over.” And she hung up.

  But, after seeing the look in Weston’s eyes and the blood on his clothes, Daniela didn’t think that going out tonight was the best idea. And considering Angel was still a problem made it a worse idea.

  Instead, since Weston hadn’t brought anything home, and Shambhala had already found Sari in the playroom, Daniela searched in her fridge, looking for something to make for dinner. They’d had restaurant food for lunch, so they probably didn’t need anything terribly heavy. She stared at the contents of her freezer, looking for inspiration, when Weston walked into the kitchen, tucking a clean shirt into his jeans.

  “Sorry I didn’t bring anything. I’d be happy to order in or go pick something up.”

  “How do you feel about pasta?” she asked, pulling out a pack of sausages.

  “Sausages and pasta?”

  She laughed. “You don’t have to say it like that. It’s really good. Trust me.”

  “If you’re up for cooking,” he said, “I’m up for eating. But it’s not how I envisioned the evening to be.”

  She waved that off. “Let’s do that another day,” she said with a smile. She stopped and studied him carefully. “How are you doing?”

  He didn’t make any pretense of trying to ignore her, but he nodded and said, “I’ll be fine. It always takes a little bit to detach from something like that.”

  She nodded and popped the sausages into the microwave to defrost, so she could slice them. Then she said, “I don’t know if you’re a hugger or not, but if you could use a hug—”

  Instantly he opened his arms. She looked at him in surprise, then stepped into the embrace. But it seemed like he was offering her as much comfort as she was giving him. When he wrapped his arms around her and tucked her in closer, she melted against him. It was just so nice to be held by somebody who cared.

  When he finally released her, he said, “Thank you.”

  She looked up at him, startled, having forgotten the reason she had offered him the hug in the first place. Then she smiled. “You’re welcome,” she said, as she kissed him gently on the cheek. Then she went back to bustling in the kitchen.

  He sat down at the island. “Can I help?”

  She thought about it a moment, then nodded and gave him several tomatoes, a cutting board and a knife. “Dice them up small please, like bite-size.”

  He went straight to work, and then she gave him some pickled artichoke hearts. His eyebrows popped up, but he kept slicing.

  Then she gave him a can of large black olives and said, “These are big, so maybe give them a chop too.” In the meantime, she had a pot of water boiling for pasta, and the sausage slices were simmering in a skillet nearby.

  He looked at it all with interest. “I’ve never had something like this. It looks interesting.”

  She shrugged. “It’s one of my favorites.” She walked to the fridge, pulled out feta cheese and gave him the big square and said, “Cut off about a one-inch slab and cut it into small cubes.”

  He did as she instructed, while she pulled out some dishes.

  She efficiently drained the corkscrew pasta, then put them into a bowl with butter, added salt and pepper and squeezed lemon juice on top. He stared at her in surprise, and she just chuckled and reassured him once more. Moving the bowl closer to the stove, she tossed i
n the cooked sausage pieces, including the fat left in the pan. Next she tossed in all of the vegetables he’d chopped, put the cheese on top and when it was all mixed up, she served dishes for the three of them.

  “If you want to grab Sari,” she said, “we can eat on the patio. I’ve got all three bowls.”

  Together they headed to the outside table. Weston snagged the high chair on the way out with his spare hand, and setting it at the table, gently plopped Sari in her chair.

  She looked at the pasta and laughed with both hands outstretched. Her bowl was plastic, and, with an inquiring eye at Daniela for approval, Weston gave Sari the whole bowl. She went for the noodles and started chewing away.

  “She does love to eat, doesn’t she?” Taking a bite from his own bowl, he stopped in surprise as the flavors melded in his mouth. “Wow.”

  “Like I said, it’s a favorite of mine,” Daniela said. “It’s supereasy and fast, but good.”

  “You’re not kidding,” he said. “I could eat this anytime.” As it was, he inhaled his bowl, then went back inside and brought the big bowl back out with him and had seconds.

  Minutes later, as he pushed away his empty bowl, he said, “You know something? As much as I would have liked to have taken you out for dinner, this was delicious.”

  She smiled at him, pleased with the compliment. “Good,” she said. “Sometimes a home-cooked meal hits the spot.”

  “And sometimes going out is fun and a much-deserved break from cooking,” he said.

  She nodded. “So, do you want to tell me what happened today?”

  “Hard to even know where to start,” he said, “but I must because some of it involves Angel.”

  At that, Daniela’s stomach twisted. She pushed away her dishes, grabbed his hand and said, “Tell me, please.”

  He cupped both of her hands and then gently rubbed them. Sari was happily chewing away on her pasta beside them, and Shambhala had quietly taken up residence below her for any food that fell off Sari’s high chair. He half suspected Sari was deliberately dropping some for her. But nothing was in their dinner the dog couldn’t eat and having Sari happily distracted right now wasn’t a bad thing. He explained what had happened throughout the day, and then, when he told her about the loan shark coming up from Vegas, Daniela gasped in surprise.

  “Would they do that?”

  “If there’s money to be had, sure. Apparently Grant and his wife had pooled a little money, and the twin brother, Gregory, knew about it. He came up here but changed his plans at some point and decided to leave Grant holding the bag with the loan shark, while he took off with Ginger.”

  She winced at that. “Wow, after they took all the money, I suppose?” she said caustically.

  He nodded. “Ultimately the loan shark got paid and left. Grant’s brother and his wife are dead, and Grant was sitting there, trying to figure out how to rebuild his life now that the homestead is mortgaged to the hilt. He finally did admit to having killed both of them and tried to hide it by staging the accident. He pushed the truck over the edge with them in it, and, after it didn’t blow up and burn on its own, he went down and torched it.”

  Her jaw dropped open.

  Weston nodded. “It’s always surprising to see the extent people will go to in order to get what they want.”

  “Yeah. And Angel? How did she fit into your busy day?” she asked, bewildered.

  “Get this. Apparently she owed the loan shark something too, though I don’t quite understand all that yet. Grant didn’t have the details but said she’d arrived with the loan shark and made reference to an opportunity for a payout here. Something to do with a baby.”

  Instinctively she turned and looked at Sari; then her horrified gaze flipped back at him.

  He nodded. “I just don’t know exactly what that means yet.”

  “She wouldn’t kidnap Sari, would she?”

  “I hope not,” he said grimly. “The bottom line is, we’re not letting her have Sari.”

  “But, if she did, what would she do with her?”

  Weston had some really ugly ideas about that because he’d seen the ugly side of people too much in his life, but he didn’t want to say anything to Daniela.

  “She would sell her, wouldn’t she?” Daniela said, clearly outraged.

  “Until we find her, we don’t know. The detective had to bring the forensic team out to Grant’s place, and Kruger’s put out an APB for Angel. We could hope she’s disappeared, but we checked the airlines, and there’s no sign of her having left.”

  Weston watched as Daniela sagged in place. “Dear God,” she said. “How can we possibly be surrounded by so many horrible people?”

  “Not everybody is like your husband,” he said, “and not everybody is like Angel.”

  “What about Grant, Gregory and Ginger?” she asked sarcastically.

  “And what about all the other people around here, like the two mothers you spent time with today? Like the waitress at the restaurant? Like your sister? Like the detective who’s helping us?”

  She calmed down and mustered up a smile. “No, you’re right. But it’s all really sad, isn’t it?” She got up, grabbed the dishes from the table and said, “I’ll put on some coffee.”

  “Do you have tea?” he asked hopefully.

  She stopped, turned to look at him and said, “Do you like tea?”

  “I love tea,” he said. “I drink coffee all morning, but I do like tea in the evening.”

  She smiled. “I don’t think I know another man who drinks tea.”

  “I spent some time in England and became quite a convert,” he said.

  She nodded. “Tea it is then.” As she walked by, she bent down to kiss Sari on the cheek. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I think the dog is getting fed better than Sari is tonight.” Laughing, she headed into the kitchen.

  He wasn’t sure if she would go cry while she did the dishes, but he figured she needed something to do with her hands. He shuffled closer to Sari, only to see Shambhala resting her chin on Sari’s footrest Even as he watched, Sari reached down, picked up a piece of sausage and dropped it over the edge. Shambhala eagerly caught it midair.

  He sighed. “Sari, doggy doesn’t need more food.”

  She beamed at him. “Doggy, doggy.” Then she picked up a whole handful of pasta and threw it on the floor.

  He groaned, grabbed her bowl and, using her fork, tried to pop a few more bites into her mouth, but she wasn’t having anything to do with it. He studied the bowl, then checked on the dog, her good eye giving him the most soulful look, staring back up at him.

  “How am I supposed to know how much she ate if you’ll clean up all the leftovers?” he asked the dog. But no answers were to be had from Shambhala.

  When Daniela came back out, he said, “How do you know when Sari’s eaten enough?”

  She smiled and said, “If she hasn’t, she’ll want more later.” She looked at the bowl and shrugged. “It’s really hard to tell with Shambhala in the picture, isn’t it?”

  “That’s what I was just trying to explain to them,” he said, chuckling.

  Daniela lifted the high chair tray up over Sari’s head and scooped her up from the seat. “Regardless of who got what,” she said, “it’s obvious she’s wearing a good portion of it as well.”

  But Sari was so happy and delighted to be feeding the doggy that, as soon as they moved away, she started screaming. Daniela wouldn’t listen though and took her straight inside.

  Weston looked down at Shambhala. “What will we do, girl?”

  Shambhala just looked at him as if to say, It’s an easy solution, idiot.

  Weston wasn’t sure he was ready for it, but then again he wasn’t sure he had any choice either. Somehow this little girl and her mother had gotten inside his heart and had made a home for themselves right there. Not to mention Shambhala’s entry into his life …

  He turned to Shambhala again. “Did you open the door for them?” he gently scolded. Shamb
hala’s tail wagged like crazy with joy at his tone. He softly stroked her silky ears. “It’s been a tough life, girl, but the rest of your years should be pretty easy.”

  “No, I don’t think so,” said a harsh voice from beside him. He turned to see Angel standing on the patio, holding a handgun against Daniela’s head. Daniela, who held Sari in her arms, staring at him in terror.

  “Well, hello, Angel,” he said as he stood, pushing back his chair.

  Shambhala looked from one to the other, not understanding. He stepped in front of the dog and gave her a hand signal to lie down. Then he put her on alert to watch.

  He walked to Daniela and picked up Sari right out of her arms without Angel having a chance to say anything, then put her back in the high chair. As he walked past, he told Shambhala to guard. Shambhala sat up, her attention directly at Sari’s side. He stepped over to Daniela, put an arm around her shoulder and tucked her up close, then took a step directly in front of the gun, so the barrel pressed against his chest. “Half the city is looking for you.”

  She stared at him, the gun now at an awkward angle because he’d stepped so close.

  “What are you doing?” she cried out.

  “What do you think I’m doing?” He reached up with a sudden move and snatched the gun from her hand. “Don’t you ever bring a weapon near my family again,” he snapped.

  She shook her head and looked completely dumbfounded, her gaze going from Daniela to Weston and then over to Sari. “I don’t know what little game you’re playing at,” she snarled, “but I don’t have time for this shit.”

  “Why is that?” Weston said.

  “Because I have to go, and I have to go now, and Sari is going with me.”

  “How will you make us do that?” he asked curiously. “I have your weapon, so you tell me how that’ll work out for you.”