“Yes, sir,” she mumbled under her breath.
“And keep the door cracked.”
Her lips pursed, but she did leave the door cracked an inch once she was inside.
“I’ll holler if I need help,” she called out.
Which was code for “move away from the door.” “Gotcha, I’ll be over on the bed.” He strode back and sat on the edge of the mattress. “I stopped by Deadly Delights. Katie was there. Told you not to worry.”
“She’s a sweetheart,” Laura said. “That makes me feel so much better. I’ve been worrying all day about the doors being closed. I’m going to have to give her a raise.”
In the distance, he heard the doorbell ring. “Think you have company.”
“I heard,” she said.
He heard the toilet flush and then running water. A few minutes later, the door widened, and she stood in the opening. She’d removed the bandage from around her head, placed a smaller, fresh one over the wound, and her hair was brushed. He wished she’d let him help her with that.
“Not that I need the help, but I do know how to follow orders,” she said, holding out her hand as she gripped the doorframe.” She glanced down at her pajamas. “Maybe I should change.”
“No, you’re just going to be climbing back into bed. But I will get you a robe,” he said, reaching behind her to snag a silky pink robe off the hook on the back of the bathroom door.
Once he helped her put it on, he led her from the room and into the kitchen.
Bob Updike was there, holding a bouquet of flowers. He was accompanied by his warehouse girl, Edna. Dagger, Lacey, and Elaine were there, too.
Bob’s gaze went to Laura, and his expression softened. “Glad to see you’re getting around, Laura. We were worried about you.”
Edna bobbed her head. “Yes, we were worried.”
Preacher’s gaze locked on Edna’s expression. She didn’t look particularly worried. No, her gaze moved from Laura to Bob, and a tiny frown formed a vee between her eyebrows.
He was glad he’d added her to the list of folks to check out. Someone with a motive—jealousy.
“It’s so sweet of you to both to drop by,” Laura said.
Bob thrust his bouquet forward into Laura’s arms.
She smiled. “Peonies. I love them.”
Lacey stepped toward Laura. “Let me get them into water for you.”
Laura swept her hand toward the table. “Would you like to sit?”
Bob glanced around at Preacher and Dagger. “No, I…we just wanted to make sure you were recovering. And I wanted to bring you flowers…” When his voice trailed off, his cheeks reddened. He turned to gaze down at Edna. “We should go.”
Edna gave the room a crimped smile. “Looks like you have all the help you need.”
When they’d gone, Elaine was frowning. “That was a little strange.”
Preacher glanced at Lacey. “I already had Fig look into her background. She’s got misdemeanors for stalking.”
Lacey gave him a brief nod.
Preacher guided Laura to the table and helped her into a chair.
“Edna? Seriously?” Laura shook her head. “I hate this, seeing bogeymen all around me.”
Preacher agreed full heartedly, but he would leave no stone unturned.
Lacey flounced down in the seat beside her. “So, you’re looking better today. Preacher must think so too, or he would never have let you make the trip to the kitchen on your own two feet.”
Laura chuckled. “I put my foot down.”
“How’s the head?”
“There’s still an ache, but the pain meds are helping. If I don’t shake my head too much, it’s tolerable. However, now that the pain here,” she said, pointing at her bandage, “isn’t killing me, I can sure feel the bruise on my shoulder.”
Preacher frowned. She hadn’t mentioned it before. He’d known she’d been struck there, but all his worry had been about the damage to her brain.
“I made chili,” Elaine said, waving a serving spoon.
“Oh Lord, you’re spoiling me,” Laura said. “I can’t wait until you have that baby so I can return the favor.”
“Well, I’ll let you,” Elaine said.
With the exception of Laura, everyone filled their own bowls and settled around the table. Preacher filled hers and set the pico in front of her so that she could decide how much spice to add. Preacher’s eyes widened when she added several heaping spoonfuls.
Elaine chuckled. “You might want to take a little bite first to make sure you don’t burn your tongue off. I added three large jalapeños, and they made my fingers burn when I chopped them up.”
“I love heat,” Laura said. “My parents moved around a lot with the Air Force, and my father was stationed in West Texas for a couple of tours. Mom took Mexican cooking lessons through the Wives Club.”
“Is your father still in the service?” Elaine asked, sparing Preacher from having to admit to the group he didn’t have a clue.
She nodded. “This time in Germany. They’re having a blast. It will be his last assignment, and then they’ll be looking for some place to put down roots here in the States.”
“Think they’ll come to Montana?” Lacey asked.
“As long as they’ve been in Germany, neither of them minds the snow. For sure, they’ll come for a long visit.”
For several minutes, they ate in companiable silence. Preacher watched Laura for signs she might be tiring. When she began squinting at her bowl, he knew her headache was worsening. “Let’s get you back to bed.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s time for another pill anyway.”
“So bossy,” she griped.
The women grinned.
“Better get used to it,” Elaine said. She glanced at her own watch. “I have to head home. If Cage catches me here this late, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“I’ll give Laura a hand,” Lacey said, holding out her elbow for Laura to grab.
When Laura nodded, Preacher conceded gracefully. “I’ll see Elaine to her car.”
Preacher walked her out to her car. “Let Cage know we have everything locked up tight.”
“I will.” She paused before sliding into the car. “You saw that, too, didn’t you? The way Edna looked at Laura…?”
“Yeah, something’s not right with that woman. Stalking charges, a restraining order. Sure, they were a few years ago, but I still don’t like her being anywhere near Laura.”
“Are she and Bob dating?”
Preacher shook his head. “I don’t know, but I also don’t think he notices her. He seems kind of fixated on Laura.”
“Well, if she drops food by, toss it. Women like poison, and she does work in a hardware store with plenty of access to rat poison.”
Preacher frowned.
Elaine shook her head. “No, she didn’t go anywhere near anything she could have laced poison in. Besides, we’re probably worried about nothing. I can’t imagine a woman beating another with a pipe.”
When Preacher went back inside, he waited in the living room with Dagger, who was playing a game on his console. “Never took you for a gamer.”
“I never get the chance, but since we’re here and mostly sitting on our asses, I thought, why not? I’ll take care of the outside perimeter checks. Lacey will get some shuteye. I’ll keep it turned way down, so don’t worry about the noise.”
“I’m not worried. I just really appreciate you being here. I owe you.”
“Yeah, you do,” Dagger said, giving him a quick grin. “I’m sure we’ll be on a hunt someday, and there will be something gross, like a slog through a pig pen or a mountain of horse manure, chasing some A-hole.”
Preacher grimaced. “I know—I’ll be ‘it’.”
“Yeah, and don’t you think for a minute I’ll forget.”
“Did you just say he owes you?” Lacey said, reaching across the back of the couch to slap Dagger’s shoulder.
“He did. But he’s right,” Preacher said.
“I owe all of you.”
Lacey shrugged. “I can think of a couple of ways you could pay us back.”
Preacher narrowed his eyes. “Does it have anything to do with your TV show?”
Lacey smiled. “Maybe. The fans love seeing our hunter friends in action.”
As Dagger began laughing, Preacher rolled his eyes. “Jesus.”
Chapter 12
After Lacey and Dagger darted out to meet Ethan Palmer at his office at closing, Preacher performed a perimeter check then decided to do some housekeeping, thinking Laura might start to stress if she thought her home was getting trashed by the hunters.
He ran a quick vacuum and mopped all the tiled floors. Then he dug around in her pantry for wood polish and dusted every surface in the living room and kitchen. After tackling the guest bathroom, he checked on Laura.
Her eyes opened when he pushed open the door. “I’m bored.”
“And that’s okay. The doctor said you have to rest your head. No TV, no reading. He probably wouldn’t like knowing you’ve been entertaining guests.”
She snorted. “Me sitting in my pajamas at the table isn’t entertaining guests.” Her expression lost its spark of humor. “I heard you mentioning something about Edna.”
He walked to the bed and sat beside her. “She’s had some problems in the past with obsession. Stalker charges. Apparently, she haunted her ex-boyfriend to the point a judge had to issue a restraining order.”
“I’ve never heard anything about that.”
“It was a few years ago. Likely it all died down.”
“She’s been working for Bob for years. Surely, he didn’t hire her unless he felt comfortable having her around.”
Preacher reached out and cupped the uninjured side of her head. He rubbed his thumb over her temple. “We’re checking everyone we can think of. You aren’t to worry. Rest that brain.”
She turned her head and kissed his hand. “I’d like you to rub something other than my head.”
A smile tugged at his mouth. “And I’d love to do a lot more than rub something, but…”
She squinched her nose. “It’s so not fair.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, palming his dick because it was beginning to perk up.
“Will you lie down with me for a little while?”
“Only if you promise to try to sleep.”
She grimaced. “I promise.”
Preacher walked around to the other side of the bed and removed his shoes. Then he climbed onto the bed beside her.
She turned and rested against him.
When she drew a breath, he tapped her nose. “No talking. It requires thinking.”
“Ugh. You know that’s impossible.”
“It’s not impossible if you actually close your eyes and sleep.”
“Such a bossy man,” she muttered.
“Only when I need to be.”
“Or I want you to be…” she said, her tone sly now.
Preacher groaned. “Laura, you’re killing me.”
“How do you think I feel?”
“You have a headache. Great excuse.”
“But I’d love to think about something else.”
“Well, then think about this…”
Preacher started telling her about his life in Missouri, before he’d joined the Army. About his mom who’d died from cancer and the father who’d drank himself to death. Then he talked about joining the Army, “because it was the only thing I could think to do to get the hell away from my dad’s legacy.”
“I’m so sorry, Dylan.”
He smiled. “Now, that’s the first time you’ve called me by that name.”
She let out small, soft laugh. “That’s because Preacher fits. I tend to call out to God when you’re inside me.”
He chuckled. “Quiet. I’m getting to the really boring parts about all the schooling the Army gave me to make me into a warrior…”
When he’d finished telling her about jump school, he glanced down at her. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing deeply. After gently slipping out from under her, he left the room.
Preacher took the time alone to pack away his things in the guest room/office. Then he sat down and began to make calls to the folks on the list Fig had given him.
Frank’s cousin hadn’t seen him since the family reunion last summer and had no idea where he might be. Two more cousins parroted the story. His former wife said the same. As did his best friend since high school. Almost like someone had coached them as to what to say when anyone came nosing around.
He called the sister whose property would be forfeited should they not catch him in time. After she’d cursed her relatives, she admitted she’d lost touch with him even before he’d called from jail, pleading for her help to get him out. She’d regretted the good deed ever since, because he’d ghosted her that very day. When she’d called to invite him to her home for dinner for a chance to catch up and see how she might help him, the phone number he’d given her was no longer in service.
Preacher made notes of the conversations then pulled out a map and plotted the home addresses for everyone he’d contacted. Like Fig had said before, they were all located in either Bozeman or Pine Creek. And Pine Creek was very near the sister’s vacation home…
Preacher wondered if it was really that easy.
He texted Fig.
Anyone check Linda Cameron’s vacation home?
No
Then a moment later, Shit. I’ll ping Cage
Feeling like he’d accomplished something for the day, he closed the folder and sat looking out the window. Lacey and Dagger pulled up a few minutes later. He let them in then stood back. Lacey was carrying a large duffel bag.
“You planning to move in?”
“A girl never knows what she might need on hand. Plus, I thought if Laura felt up to it, I might give her a mani or a pedi. A little pampering might lift her spirits.”
Dagger followed her inside and mouthed, Don’t ask.
Three different texting chimes sounded.
Dagger held up his phone. “Cage, Marti, and Hardman are heading back to Pine Creek. Cage says you may have figured out where Ludlow’s hiding out.”
“Way to go, team!” Lacey said and raised her hand for a high five.
Feeling a little foolish because she’d sounded like a cheerleader, he raised his hand and gave her palm a light smack. “So, how’d it go with Ethan Palmer?” he asked, trailing them inside the house.
Lacey sat on the couch. “It’s interesting. The same anonymous shell company that bought the store next to Deadly Delights bid on it.”
“Anonymous?”
“Yeah,” she said, with a nod. “I gave the information to Fig to track down who owns it. She said it should be a snap.”
Dagger sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Swear to God, I never get tired of watching you drilling for information.” He glanced at Preacher. “She’s relentless, but the idiots nearly trip over themselves to give her every little bit they can.”
Preacher grinned. He’d seen her in action. “So, we have this shell company plus Edna as possibles.”
“We’re making progress,” Lacey said. “You know how it works. As we dig, we cross off folks until we see who’s still left standing.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. He wasn’t good with frustration and inaction. Both made him wish for a fight—a head to smash, bones to break. Sighing, he pushed to his feet. “There’s plenty of chili left. Help yourself. Fig said she’d stop by later to eat. She’s bringing cookies.”
“Chocolate chip?” Lacey said hopefully.
Dagger’s eyebrows rose. “Oatmeal?”
“Oreos.”
They both smiled.
“I love twisting off the tops,” Lacey said.
“I love dunking them in milk,” Dagger said.
He left them while they began to argue about the “correct” way to eat the cookies. He went outside and sat atop the porch steps.
The sky was darkening just as Fig pulled into the driveway, leaving the end of her truck in the street because of all the vehicles filling the space.
Fig climbed out. “I have something. Just printed it all off,” she said, holding up a manilla folder in one hand and a grocery bag in the other.
Preacher stood and went to the door, opening it for her. “Go straight back to the kitchen. There’s a table there, and I’ll get you a bowl of Elaine’s chili.” Yeah, he wanted her to blurt out what she’d found, but again, he wanted everyone there to hear it so the information didn’t have to be repeated. He signaled to Dagger and Lacey to follow him inside to the kitchen.
After getting her a bowl and placing the condiments in front of her, he took the chair beside her. Dagger and Lacey sat on the opposite side.
Fig dished cheese on her chili but skipped the pico. Waving her spoon, she glanced sideways at Preacher. “This afternoon, I did a deep dive into Bob’s hardware store. Guess what I found?”
He gave her a glare. He didn’t have the patience to play the twenty questions game.
She bugged her eyes. “Okay, so, a few years ago, he got deep into debt and sold the hardware store.
Preacher’s eyebrows shot upward. “He doesn’t own it?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Guess who does?” She winked before he had a chance to grumble. “Edna Posick. After he sold it to her, she qualified for some women-owned business low-interest loans the government offered and brought them back into the black.”
She shoveled in a bite of chili and moaned. “Damn, this is good.”
Preacher wished he’d held off feeding her until after she’d told them everything.
Still chewing, she flipped open the folder she’d laid on the table and pointed at a copy of incorporation documents. “That shell company, Dead Horse Limited, is owned by…” She glanced at Preacher.
“Edna,” he said.
“Nope.” She looked as smug as the cat who’d swallowed the canary. “Bob.”
“They’re in on it together,” he said softly.
“Looks like,” Fig said. “We for sure have motive.”
“Did you tell the sheriff?”
She nodded. “He was a little huffy. I think he’s ready to ream the detective he put on this. Anyone could have found this—”
Preacher (Montana Bounty Hunters: Dead Horse, MT Book 2) Page 10