Maybe he really was as weak as Dinah thought he was. Otherwise, he’d be able to finish his sentence and utter the worst. With a silent curse, he forced himself to say it. “Alan, if Cheyenne hadn’t come in here, I would have taken a shot of bourbon.” Shoot, he probably would’ve taken a whole lot more than that.
“But she did. And you didn’t.”
He was taken off guard by the lack of disdain in his sponsor’s voice. “Does that even count, though?” Forcing himself to admit everything, he said, “I have that bottle in my apartment. I haven’t even had the courage to pour it out yet.”
“Austin, it all counts. Staying sober isn’t rocket science. This is all about admitting you have a problem and deciding to deal with it. Day by day.” He paused. “Are you okay now?”
Surprised, he took stock of himself, looking for that familiar itch that made him want to jump out of his skin. “Yeah.”
“Then whatever you’re doing, do it some more.”
“My sister went to go get burgers. We’re going to hang out here for another hour or so.”
“That’ll do, right? So you’re going to visit with your sister and not drink for a couple of hours. Good for you.”
Austin was uncomfortable. Alan was making it sound as if he had something to celebrate instead of be upset about. “I wouldn’t say any of this was good.”
“Small victories, Austin. Remember, you’ve almost made it through another day.”
That was it? He wasn’t about to tell him he was ten kinds of loser? “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“Yep.”
“But what about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, you can work on getting through tomorrow. And if you take that bottle back out but don’t want to drink it, give me a call.”
“Or Vanessa,” he murmured, half to himself. “I’ve got another friend who said I could call…”
“That’s right. Give her a call, too.”
He hung up just as Cheyenne was walking down the sidewalk, a cardboard box with their lunches in her hands.
Though he felt kind of as though he was in the worst sort of daze, he strode to the front door and opened it for her. “This was the best idea I’ve had all day, Chey. I’m starved.”
She beamed happily. “Me, too.” Then to his surprise, she set down that box on the counter and flung her arms around his shoulders. “Oh, Austin. Things are really starting to look up. The girls are finally adjusting a little bit, I’m doing a job that I love, and you and me are getting back to how we used to be.”
“I’m happy, too, sugar,” he said, just to see Cheyenne’s eyes light up again. The amazing thing was that he actually was.
Later, after they’d eaten their burgers, finished off a whole mess of fries, and the girls were once again happily coloring, Cheyenne said, “Want to talk about what’s been bothering you?”
By now, the edge had worn off. If he brought it up again, Austin feared it would be like opening a wound, bringing back all the pain that he’d just pushed to the side. Plus, Cheyenne had enough problems; he had no desire to burden her with his garbage.
With all that in mind, he shook his head. “No, I’m good.”
Her eyes—mirror images of his own—narrowed. “But you said you’d talk about it. And I was totally ready to listen.”
She sounded as though she was missing out on a piece of candy. He chuckled. “Maybe another time, Cheyenne. I really am okay.” For now.
“All right, then.” With a weary sigh, she threw away her garbage and stretched her arms high. “Thanks for the break and for letting me celebrate with you.”
“I was glad to do it.” As a new idea came to him, he said, “You know, we can always build a jewelry case or something and showcase your stuff here. Instead of just selling a few pieces every now and then.”
“You wouldn’t mind?”
“Not at all. Matter of fact, I think it’s a great idea. After all, you already work here when I’m on the road.”
“You won’t need to ask me that twice. As soon as I get a little bit more inventory, I’ll bring some over.”
The smile she gave him made him warm over. Almost as warm as a shot of that Maker’s Mark made him.
But as she left, Austin had to admit that his sister’s smile had given him something a liquor bottle never had—his self-respect.
Chapter Ten
It took twenty-four hours to obtain the search warrant. While Dinah made all the necessary phone calls, Duke once again contacted various secondhand retailers, other police departments and the innumerable online sites they’d been keeping tabs on.
But she was on her own today. Since Duke was only part-time, he was taking the day off, helping his wife, Angie, with their horse-biscuit business. If she didn’t need him, he was even going to go help Angie man a booth at a rodeo this weekend.
All that meant Dinah had to be at the top of her game when she entered Wright’s Western Wear. Of late, everything she and Austin seemed to say to each other was laced with double meanings. She was going to need to stay sharp if she didn’t want to upset her investigation or make things worse between her and Austin.
But animosity brewed in the air the moment Austin looked up and watched her approach.
“So. You’re back. At four o’clock, no less.” His voice was flat, his expression full of disdain.
“I couldn’t seem to stay away,” she said sarcastically. Pulling out the folded sheet of paper from her pocket, which had been damn hard to get, she slapped it on the counter. “I’ve got the warrant.”
To her surprise—and irritation—he unfolded it carefully and then proceeded to read every word. “This says you’ve got the right to inspect the property for saddles and tack.” He smiled.
Caught off guard by the flash of white teeth, she said, “I didn’t think you’d be grinning.”
“I’m thankful that you’re not about to start inspecting my underwear drawer. That’s all. It would’ve been a big problem for me.”
“I’ve seen men’s underwear, Austin.”
“Yeah, but I hardly ever wear any.”
Before she could stop herself, she fell face-first into his trap. “What?”
“I go commando, Dinah. Unless I’m on the back of a horse, I’m practically free as a bird.”
She was shocked. “Really?” And yes, that was her gaze sliding down to his hip area.
His smile widened. “Nothing comes between me and my Wranglers. So…want to check? Just to be sure you didn’t miss a thing?”
Yes, she was flushing. “You just stand here while I do my job.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Striding by him, she got a whiff of his cologne, and the scent seemed to linger in her subconscious as she walked directly to his storage room.
She was armed with pictures of the saddle and a silver-studded bridle that had been stolen from the Emersons. But the room was spotlessly clean and only held shelves lined with clothing, sporting equipment, and other odds and ends needed to run a store. There wasn’t a saddle or a bridle to be seen.
Of course, she supposed he could have gotten rid of any incriminating evidence in the time it took her to get the search warrant.
Carefully, she walked through the shop, his office, even around the counter. She attempted to not disrupt anything more than she had to. But she also took care to be as thorough as possible.
But no matter where she looked, she couldn’t find any sign of stolen tac
k. Not even the saddle she’d spied earlier. “Austin, where’s that saddle with the roses?”
“I sold it.”
“To whom?”
“Don’t remember,” he replied, his voice flat.
She couldn’t deny the burst of regret that filled her. She didn’t want him to be guilty—and she didn’t really think he was—but her job was on the line. She needed to do everything she could to show that she was researching every angle—no matter how far-fetched. For him to be dodging her questions yet again wasn’t good.
Feeling like half a fool, she held out her hand. “I need your house keys.” She doubted he had taken to hiding bridles under his bed but stranger things had happened.
As she expected, Austin was taken aback. “My apartment is not the shop.”
“But you live on the property, so technically, it counts.” She’d made sure of that.
With a grimace, he handed them to her, but those striking blue eyes of his remained cloudy and cool.
Walking up the back stairs and carefully unlocking his door, Dinah didn’t blame him. No one wanted their place to be searched for stolen merchandise.
Feeling silly, she looked under his bed and in his drawers for a silver bridle.
And in his living room for a saddle.
To her embarrassment she found herself opening up his bureau drawers, just to make sure no bridles were hidden inside. She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t looking to see if he had any boxers or briefs neatly folded inside.
She found a scant three pairs. Neatly folded.
When Dinah returned to the store, she found Austin sitting in an old wooden rocking chair, thumbing through a magazine. As she looked at him, Dinah thought he looked something like a model himself. His blue plaid shirt curved around his muscles well, and the shirt, neatly pressed as always, emphasized his dark coloring and blue eyes.
When she stood in front of him, he got to his feet.
Schooling her features, she looked him in the eye. “I’m done.”
“What’s next?”
“I’ll let you know. I’m sorry I had to intrude on your privacy like this.”
“You’re sorry?” Arms folded over his chest, he raised his brows. “And now…that’s it? You’re not going to handcuff me and take me in?” He lowered his voice to a gravelly drawl. “You’re not going to lock me up, D?”
“Don’t push me, Austin. I’m just trying to do my job.” Inwardly, she winced. Even to her ears, she sounded stressed and whiney. Not the way a sheriff ever wanted to sound.
“Just your job, huh?” With a glare, he pointed at her cruiser parked prominently in front of the store. “Believe it or not, I’m trying to do mine, too. But I’m sure folks aren’t too excited to come into a shop that the law has staked out.”
“Don’t exaggerate. I’ve hardly staked out the place, Austin.”
“You couldn’t have made it any plainer that you’re here on an official visit.” He shook his head. “What’s with you, Dinah? I’m doing my best to work with you. Why couldn’t you have simply walked over here from the sheriff’s office like you usually do?”
His question made her realize that she probably had gone a little out of her way to keep things professional. And she probably had desired to take his ego down a peg by parking her cruiser smack-dab in front.
Not that she didn’t have the right to do that, though. “Austin, don’t make this into something it isn’t. The Emersons had a saddle stolen from them. Your truck was seen in the vicinity of their ranch last night.”
“I can’t change the way things are, Dinah.” His eyes narrowed. “Used to be…neither could you.”
His voice was raspy. For a split second, she was back in high school, partying too much and laughing with him too loudly.
Then she recalled going to another county to get a pregnancy test. And the total, complete band of fear that had threatened to choke her insides when she’d thought about telling her parents—and her brothers—that she’d gotten knocked up.
Brad, the boy she’d been fooling around with, had said the very same thing. That it wasn’t possible to change the way things were.
At her silence, a muscle in his jaw jumped. “What? Don’t you have something to say to that?”
“No.” She hesitated, then leaned against the counter. “I know you’re mad at me, and I don’t blame you. But you have to try to see things from my side. Everyone and their brother wants me to have apprehended our thieves yesterday. I have to investigate every lead.”
He blinked, as though trying to keep up with her scatterbrained mind. Then, as if he’d made a sudden decision, said, “Just so you know, I was at church on Monday night.”
“Doing what? I didn’t know there were services on Monday evenings.”
“I wasn’t at a church service.”
“Do you mind telling me why you were there so we can finish this up? Did anyone see you? Can anyone vouch for you?”
A bark of bitter laughter erupted from his lips. “Now I need people to vouch for me at church?”
“I’m trying my best to get your name cleared.”
“Well, I’m trying my best to get you to realize that my name doesn’t need to be cleared.”
Austin Wright was going to give her an ulcer. She was sure of it. “Someone thinks they saw your truck near the Emersons’ property, Austin. All I need is the name of one person who can vouch for you. Then I could mark you off my list of suspects, and then we wouldn’t have to talk about this ever again.”
“I didn’t steal anything, Dinah.”
“Then why won’t you tell me who you were with?”
“Because I don’t choose to.”
“Why?”
“Because not everything I do is your business.”
Her mouth went dry as pure disappointment warred with aggravation. “This isn’t a joke, Austin. The robbery happened around ten o’clock. Please tell me who you were with at church.”
“I can’t, Dinah.”
“Not even to clear your name?”
Pain crept into his gaze and seemed to settle there. Settling in like an old friend. “I’m sorry, but no.”
The pressure of not doing anything was taking its toll. She had to at least look as if she had a suspect. Pete had seen his truck, and now the Johnson saddle was gone. So though it didn’t feel right, she knew she had to do something. “I’m going to take you in.”
He scowled. “You’re going to take me in for questioning? Even though you didn’t find anything here?” His voice was full of scorn. As if he was daring her to do something so foolish.
Feeling about a hundred years old, she nodded. “You have the right to remain silent,” she began. “You have the right to an attorney…”
As she continued to Mirandize him, he raised his gaze and stared straight ahead, a twitching muscle in his jaw the only sign that she was breaking his heart.
Only the very slight tremor in her voice betrayed her feelings.
When she escorted him to her cruiser, Dinah realized that they both still had a whole lot in common. They both were remarkably good liars.
Chapter Eleven
She hadn’t meant to keep Austin at the office long. But of course, the moment she’d gotten back to the office, the phone had been ringing. She placed Austin in the room set aside for questioning, along with a can of soda, and left him sitting in there, pissed off and irritable while she returned urgent messages.
Then, just as she was about to go question Austin some more, an emergency came up. There had been an accident involving a tractor trailer and two sedans on Highway 12, and they needed everyone within reach. She’d been forced to ask Duke to leave his family and go to the scene right away. Then she’d gotten another call. Things at the scene had gone from bad to worse. One of the drivers had died and another seemed high on something.
Though she was tempted to just let Austin go, she couldn’t forget the fancy footwork she’d had to go through to get the search warrant. So, she asked Deputy Clyde Beck from neighboring Lavina to sit with Austin. After he arrived, she ran off to the accident scene. And spent the next six hours helping the officers on duty collect evidence, conduct interviews, talk with the coroner and provide medical care for a mother who’d sustained a few injuries because she wasn’t wearing a seat belt. The lady just had happened to have a crying baby in a car seat, so more folks had been called to care for him.
Like so many things in law enforcement, what should have taken an hour or two had taken most of the night.
At almost three, after telling Duke thanks, she headed into Roundup and called Clyde on her cell. “Clyde, I’m so sorry. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in twenty.” Plus, she had to do something right with Austin. She’d never intended for him to stay there all night.
“Listen, why don’t you just head on home? I’ve got this.”
Though her body ached and her nerves were frayed, there was no way she could accept. “I can’t let you do that, Clyde. I’ll be there shortly.”
“You can definitely let me sit here. Remember when you helped us a couple of months ago during the county fair? You worked like a dog for forty-eight hours straight.”
“That was different.”
“Listen, Austin and I got some food from the diner, we hung out, and now he’s half-asleep on the cot in back. I’m perfectly happy napping on the couch. You get some rest and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Austin: Second Chance Cowboy Page 9