Country Strong--A Novel

by Linda Lael Miller

  “Oh, yes, that’s run by Susan, isn’t it? Susan Robbins. What kind of books do you like?”

  “Susan makes some recommendations. I mostly read suspense. Authors like Elmore Leonard, Lee Child, John Grisham, Linwood Barclay.”

  She told him she liked suspense, too, and listed a few of her own favorites.

  “I also like nonfiction, adventure books,” he said.

  Adventure? The farthest possible thing from his own life. Of course, that was one of the needs books filled, wasn’t it? Showing you a completely different reality...

  On impulse she invited him to dinner—which she thought would qualify as a different reality from what his evening would otherwise have been. She wanted to do this, for him and for herself, too. She immediately added that she’d pick him up and drop him off. He hesitated and a moment later, agreed.

  * * *

  CORD GOT ANOTHER unexpected message from Shallie; she was leaving Russell’s place (aka the Painted Pony Motel) and confessed that she’d been presumptuous enough to invite Russ to dinner. At Cord’s. Just like she’d done this past Monday with the Lewises. Was he willing to accommodate another guest? If not, she’d make some excuse and treat him to a meal at Bailey’s instead.

  He immediately texted back his agreement, wondering what this evening was going to be like. He’d never known Russ very well, hadn’t seen him in years; his awareness of the guy these days was based on reputation more than anything. Russ was a veritable hermit in that dump of a motel, not someone who seemed interested in being part of the community. Cord added a suggestion to his text. What if I invite Tina and Mitch, plus Eli and J.P., if they’re available? They all used to know Russ.

  Sure. And we can’t forget Carly, Shallie texted back.

  Nope, no forgetting Carly.

  Cord called Tina and Mitch. Tina answered. “That should be an...unusual evening,” she’d said when he invited them. “I can’t even recall the last time I saw Russ. Let me see if Mitch has any plans.” Half a minute later, she was back on the line. “Mitch would like to come, too. Oh, and I’d be happy to cook.” She told him she had a couple of lasagnas in the freezer—one regular and one vegetarian, both homemade. She’d also prepare a salad and some simple dessert. Cord put a bottle of Shallie’s favorite wine (he’d stocked up) and a case of beer in the fridge.

  Shallie came in with Russell soon after and made the reintroductions. “Cord, you and Russ remember each other, right?”

  “Sure.” He thrust out his hand in greeting. Russ’s shake was more than firm, it was aggressive. Trying to prove something? That aside, Cord found him remarkably similar to the guy he remembered—a little heavier, a little grayer, just as awkward. But he seemed pleased to be there, which pleased Cord, too.

  He supposed Russ wasn’t a bad guy, never had been. The two of them hadn’t been friends in the past, and given their age difference of several years, plus their circumstances, that made sense.

  Carly followed them inside a few minutes later, claiming she’d been “answering email,” but the expression on Shallie’s face, quickly hidden though it was, made him wonder what the girl had really been up to.

  “Russ,” he said. “This is Carly. Reba’s daughter.”

  Carly smiled at Russ and made a few cursory remarks; he seemed to be in shock, and Cord felt sure that was because of her unmistakable resemblance to Reba. He did manage to stammer, “I... I knew your mother. Way back.”

  She nodded abruptly and left to go pick flowers for a centerpiece, the dogs trailing behind her, while Shallie set the large and rarely used dining room table and Tina put the finishing touches on the meal. J.P. was just arriving with Trooper, and Cord noticed that he and Carly talked for a few minutes as the dogs greeted each other.

  J.P. shook hands with Russ as Cord passed drinks around. Their conversation seemed almost animated, and Russ paid constant attention to Trooper. Nothing like a dog to ease social interactions, Cord thought.

  Carly obviously understood and appreciated that—no surprise, based on what he already knew about her. Yes, he and this girl had significant things in common, whether or not they were father and daughter.

  She returned with a selection of wildflowers. He recognized buttercups, daisies and bluebells and reached into an upper cupboard for a green glass vase that had belonged to his grandmother. Carly arranged the flowers, very artfully in his opinion, then set them in the middle of the table.

  Cord announced that dinner was ready and ushered everyone into the dining room. People chose their own seats—Cord didn’t consider himself a social dictator. He did wonder how the inclusion of Russell would go. So far, everyone had been friendly, sharing anecdotes and laughing together, and Mr. Hermit seemed to fit in comfortably. Cord thought that boded well for the evening, but you never knew.

  * * *

  ELI FOUND THE evening lively and festive, fun—not a word he used very often. There was music, The GateCrashers’ latest album, played at a nonintrusive volume. He enjoyed their songs and not simply because of the social connection. This album, called The Lone Stranger, featured all their strengths. Great playing, great voices, great harmonizing, plus an element of the traditional in their lyrics as well as their sound. Eli could tell how much Carly, swaying back and forth, delighted in the music—reminding him of her participation in that Classic Country Night at Bailey’s.

  He sat on one side of Russ, with Cord on the other, and they continued their conversation, which included general gossip about the town, complaints and news about local politics and, finally, made its way to Reba. At that point, Cord asked for silence and raised his glass. “To Reba, who in so many ways brought us all together as friends.” Everyone echoed, “To Reba.”

  The idea of bringing them together as friends was a nice one, Eli thought, but her presence had initially divided what was already a close friendship. The toast should have gone To Reba, who drove us apart as enemies and then—No, never mind. That wasn’t exactly celebratory or completely fair. All three of them, he, Cord and J.P., had played their own roles in what had happened.

  He saw that Carly had tears running down her cheeks at the homage to her mother. Shallie and Tina, on either side of Carly, hugged her.

  He was thankful that they offered her comfort. He wished he could do or say something, too...

  He tried to catch her eye, smiling at her, hoping to establish more of a connection. It took Carly a moment to respond with a shy smile of her own. He immediately felt better. He appreciated the way she obviously fit into Cord’s household and that she had good and growing relationships with Shallie and Tina. Both women were so accepting of her, so loving.

  He helped himself to more lasagna of the surprisingly tasty vegetarian kind, and began to discuss their current crime situation with Cord, first doing Russell the courtesy of laying out the background for him.

  After listening for a while, Russ piped up. “Have you figured out a motive yet? Isn’t that where you should start?” Adding sheepishly that this was what detective heroes in his favorite suspense fiction and TV series usually did. He half apologized, saying that Eli, as a law enforcement professional, “obviously” knew what he was doing and that he—

  “Thanks.” Eli cut him off. “Yeah, we’re trying to come up with a motive based on the evidence we’ve found, such as it is. Any thoughts?”

  Russ looked more confident now and seemed more than willing to hold forth. “Okay,” he began. “As someone hearing this for the first time, I’d say it sounds as though the perp—” Eli could tell how much he enjoyed saying that “—as though the perp is choosing random targets. As though he doesn’t have a grudge against individual ranchers and farmers as much as against the entire town. Someone who hates this community. Or...it could also be someone with no purpose. Nothing valid to do.”

  “I can see both points,” Eli said, thinking briefly but not seriously that the “no purpose
” remark could apply to Russ himself. “But I lean more toward the first one. Or some combination. My guess is an angry young man.” He paused. “Sorry, don’t mean to be sexist, just being real. Some kid who’s resentful and maybe feels trapped and is taking it out on ranchers and farmers. And their animals...”

  “You told us about this before, but I didn’t realize how bad it is!” Carly, who’d been listening quietly, as everyone at the table was, burst out. “Sounds like a total loser! An asshole.”

  “Hell, yes,” J.P. agreed, and Eli chimed in, adding, “That would certainly fit.”

  “And anyone who doesn’t respect animals,” Carly said, “anyone who could do this for whatever screwed-up reason, really pisses me off. Something has to be done. And the rest of us are counting on you to do it.”

  “Hear, hear!” Glasses were lifted again.

  “And, J.P., that reminds me,” Cord said—obviously not wanting to go in the Eric direction. “Are you willing to take part in one of the patrols?”

  “Definitely!” He nodded at Mitch, sitting beside him. “We were talking about that earlier. So, Amos is organizing everyone?”

  “Yep. He’ll give you a call.”

  “Uh,” Russ murmured just as people were standing up to leave the table. “I’d like to help with the patrols. Can you ask him to call me, too?”

  “You bet!” Eli said, satisfied with the evening from start to finish.

  * * *

  THE NIGHT HAD gone well and ended well, Shallie reflected as she drove Russ back to the motel. He sat quietly beside her for about half the ride, then thanked her for inviting him, asking her to thank Cord, too. “This is the best time I’ve had in ages. I hope we can get together again soon.”

  “We will,” she promised. “Plus I’ll keep you posted on anything I learn about Christine. We’ll make sure you meet Eddie, too.”

  “After you and I talked, I decided to start looking for Bethanne. I’ll try to get in touch with her husband.”

  “I’m glad.” Shallie was even more conscious of the fact that Russ was a decent guy, and smart. She regretted their complete loss of touch—and regretted some of her previous assumptions about him. His apparent self-involvement was more about his isolation and a fundamental loneliness; his lack of social comfort came from an understandable and lifelong shyness.

  “Do you have anything to work with?” she asked. “Any more information?”

  “No more than we already discussed. But I do have time.”

  “I’m glad you’re using it—some of it, anyway—for this.”

  “Thanks.” He paused. “Nice guys, Cord, Eli, J.P. I remember them, sort of. We weren’t friends, but I liked spending time with them tonight. And believe it or not, I’m kind of excited about joining those patrols.” He laughed briefly. “Never thought I’d become pals with the sheriff.”

  “Hey, no reason why not. That would be a useful connection for a businessman, in case someone tries to break in or rob you or something like that.”

  “I wouldn’t need to be friends with him in that case. I could just call 911.”

  “True...”

  “I’m interested in getting to know all of them—and getting to know you better.”

  “Thank you. Me, too.”

  She dropped him off at the dark and dreary motel. He gave her a rather clumsy hug, then clambered out, her headlights providing him with a reasonably well-lit path to the office door.

  Back at Cord’s place, she saw him and Eli still talking. They told her J.P. had gone home and Carly had left with Tina and Mitch. They asked her to join them and she did, accepting a glass of wine. Eli let her know that he appreciated Russell’s unexpected willingness to get involved with one of the patrols. “I hope I made that obvious.”

  Cord nodded.

  “Is there anything new he was able to add to the Christine Fletcher situation?” Eli asked next.

  “Nothing yet. Oh—I forgot to tell you both. Russ and I talked about Christine’s husband earlier today. We assume he was her husband and my father, although my birth certificate just says ‘Father Unknown.’” She grinned wryly. “Something else Carly and I have in common.”

  “We should learn more on Friday night when Eddie’s here.”

  She and Cord walked him out to his car, then Cord suggested he and Shallie go for a ramble with the dogs.

  “I hope he can find himself more of a life,” Shallie said. “But this evening was a good start.”

  They returned to the ranch house, said good-night at the foot of the stairs, dogs hanging around them. When Cord reached for her, she moved into his arms. His kiss was everything she’d longed for, everything she’d learned to expect from him. “I’m falling for you,” he whispered.

  She wanted to respond that she’d fallen for him a long time ago and that she’d had to put it aside, had to escape. Because he hadn’t fallen for her back then, but for Reba... Things were changing, though. She felt more and more sure of it. Her life had taken a different direction, away from him and from this town. But she was back—back where, twenty years ago, she’d hoped to be.

  * * *

  CORD, NOT SLEEPY at all, went downstairs to sit on the porch with a final beer; the dogs, of course, joined him.

  This was a night of reckoning, he told himself. He knew he was falling in love with Shallie. He’d told her the truth about that. He just wasn’t sure what would happen next.

  They’d make love soon. Very soon. He was convinced of that. He decided he should just enjoy the building excitement, the anticipation. Or try to, despite his frustration. It wasn’t as though he could draw on past relationships for guidance. Reba? Hardly. Jenna? That marriage was a disastrous mistake and it didn’t bother him not to have stayed in touch. He still felt used by her.

  He’d certainly had some examples of loving relationships in his immediate life, like his grandparents and Mitch and Tina. Bill and Mimi were more than grandparents, they were the parents he’d never had. As he’d intimated to Shallie, his own mother was nothing to him. Yeah, he could understand that after her husband’s death, she might’ve given up, lost her mind, grown completely irresponsible—but didn’t she have him to live for?

  He had no idea where she was or what she’d done with her life and had never really cared, partly because his grandparents had written her off. About all he knew right now was that her name was Julie. There were no photographs of her in the house, not even a wedding picture of her and Toby.

  As Shallie had said, his situation wasn’t all that different from hers.

  It occurred to him, for the first time, that he, like Shallie, could engage Eddie’s services. Maybe he should try to learn more, find out where Julie was, who she’d become. No question, Shallie’s determination to track down her own mother inspired him. And he felt encouraged by Carly’s example in searching for her dad. Besides, whatever he learned about Julie, it wasn’t as though he’d have to act on it.

  And while he was considering the subject of missing parents... He could turn out to be Carly’s dad—and the truth was, he hoped he would. Having her nearby, staying with Tina and Mitch, had given him an opportunity to know her and, more than that, to like her. At some point soon, he, Eli and J.P would have to pursue DNA testing. More than ever, he’d begun to crave that particular truth.

  He felt he’d made two decisions that could be important to his life. He’d talk to Eddie about finding Julie, and he’d pursue the father issue. There was one more decision, but it wasn’t strictly his. It was time he pursued a future with Shallie.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE SUNLIGHT WAS coming through narrow slits in the blinds as Carly woke up. She stretched, rotated her shoulders, flexed her hands and feet. Grabbing her cell from the small bedside table, she checked the time—only 6:48. She’d get up and sit outside for a while, do some serious thinking. Pulling on a pair of jeans an
d one of Susan’s T-shirts (this one read “So many books, so little time”), she tiptoed to the kitchen, but she didn’t need to worry about waking Tina and Mitch. They were already sitting there, drinking coffee and eating toast when they greeted her, and she told them she’d really enjoyed dinner at Cord’s the evening before.

  It was true. She’d loved seeing everyone, including Russ. He seemed nice enough but kind of an odd guy. When she’d first met him last night, he said he used to know Reba, but she’d learned from Shallie that he’d not only known her, he’d lived with her because Reba had ended up at that awful motel owned by his parents. Carly hadn’t felt she could ask Russ for a lot of detail just then, sensing that it wouldn’t have been appropriate.

  But there had to be more Shallie could tell Carly about those days, about Reba in particular. Did Shallie know why Reba had come to the motel and why she’d left? Did it have anything to do with the fact that she’d obviously had three more or less concurrent relationships?

  Accepting a glass of orange juice with ice from Tina, she went outside and sat on one of the wicker chairs near the trailer. Okay, what was she going to do? How much longer could she go on like this, essentially living a lie? Feeling guiltier by the day? Shallie knew what she’d been doing, but she had to confess to the others, starting with Tina and Cord. Then Eli and J.P., on separate occasions. She had to tell them about her YouTube channel, her search for her father, how she’d made money—through ads and viewer donations. Would they see that as exploiting them? The four of them, she and her three potential dads, needed to make a joint decision about DNA testing. It had to be done. But, embarrassing as it was to admit, she’d put off telling them the truth so she could extend her YouTube performances a little longer; the success of My 3 Dads was thrilling and she certainly couldn’t complain about the money. But she’d begun to question her own motives... And no, it wasn’t just the money, although she’d keep that going as long as she could. Who knew when she’d have another stable source of cash?