Tempting Fate

by Stacy Finz

  “Maybe it was maintenance.” She returned to her laptop.

  It was Saturday. He’d never seen anyone from the development working on a weekend, unless it was on the golf course. Hell, he rarely saw his neighbors. Other than the family of deer that lived on the property, no one came around much. They’d chosen Sierra Heights to be close to Harper. He got her on the weekends, but the four-hour drive each way to the Bay Area was a bear, so he and Kristy opted to get a second place in Nugget.

  The developer, who was friends with Emily and knew Harper’s story, had given them a great deal. The house was palatial compared to what they had in Palo Alto, and Harper was looking forward to the community pool in summer. Having his daughter back after seven years of not knowing whether she was dead or alive…well, it was a miracle. And everyone agreed that her transition would be easier if both sets of parents lived in the same town, even if Drew and Kristy were only part-time. They were both lawyers in Silicon Valley, 276 miles away. So they tried whenever possible to work four days in the office and telecommute the rest of the week from Nugget.

  The situation had worked out well with Harper, but it had put a significant strain on his marriage. Not the part of having two residences. Kristy had instantly fallen in love with Sierra Heights and their home, a rustic chalet with an open floor plan, walls of windows, a chef’s kitchen, and an en suite master bedroom as large as half their Palo Alto home. She liked inviting their Bay Area friends up for weekends and using the community’s state-of-the-art amenities, including a fully stocked gym. But living only a few miles from Drew’s ex had proven awkward for Kristy, and the complexities of reintroducing Harper to life after abduction were beyond difficult. And then there was the constant tension of trying to get pregnant. After three rounds of IVF, nothing.

  Kristy felt like a failure, and Drew felt helpless in convincing her otherwise.

  “Or a trick of the light,” he said, returning to the odd sense that someone was back there. “Nonetheless, I’m going to take a look.”

  “Okay,” she said, distracted by the case she was working on.

  He grabbed his jacket off a peg in the mudroom and called to the breakfast nook, “What do you think of having lunch at the Ponderosa later?” Harper was going to a wedding with Emily and her family, so he and Kristy had the day to themselves.

  “We’ll see.”

  He sighed and shut the door behind him to explore the backyard. The house sat on an acre of land, which was defined on one side by his garage and the other by a split-rail fence, shared by him and his closest neighbor. The back was wide open, ending at a greenbelt, which fronted another row of houses. There was a good chance that one of his neighbors had innocently wandered onto his property to chase a ball, a dog, or whatever. But having his daughter snatched from his and Emily’s backyard seven years ago had made him hypersensitive about security, even in a small, relatively crime-free town like Nugget.

  Drew walked the perimeter, the cold lashing through his thick jacket. He dug in his pockets for a pair of gloves and pulled them on. They’d only had the house less than a month and hadn’t yet acclimated to the change in weather from the Bay Area. So far, though, he was enjoying building fires and snuggling with Kristy and Harper under a mound of throw blankets.

  The sun filtered through the gaps in the trees as he walked to the greenbelt without finding anything amiss. Like he and Kristy, most of the residents were part-timers, who came up on weekends and holidays to golf or take advantage of the ski resorts only thirty minutes away. After Christmas, though, the place had cleared out and felt a little like a ghost town. Drew assumed they’d be back soon for Valentine’s Day.

  Feeling silly, he started back when something shiny peeking out from under a tree caught his eye. He walked closer to get a better look. Someone had left a ragged army green backpack with tarnished silver buckles lying on the ground. A closer inspection revealed a canteen less than two feet from the pack, which made Drew think that whoever left it planned to come back.

  It could’ve been hikers or campers who’d wandered off the trail. The development was surrounded by state park land. It was nothing, he told himself. But by the time he got inside the house, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something about it was odd.

  Perhaps he was making a mountain out of a mole hill, but he dialed the police anyway.

  “What’s going on?” Kristy found him a few minutes later in the mudroom. “I heard you on the phone.”

  “It’s probably nothing, but I found a backpack and canteen in the yard. I’m pretty sure it belongs to the person I thought I saw.”

  “But you didn’t see anyone when you were out there?” He shook his head. “Did you check the pack? Maybe it has identification in it.”

  “I’m leaving that to the police.”

  “That’s who you were on the phone with? Seems like overkill, don’t you think? It’s just a backpack, for God’s sake.” She laughed. “Unless you think the Taliban planted a bomb in Sierra Heights.”

  He pinned her with a look and she immediately became contrite. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me, but…”

  “But what? You think I overreacted because of Hope…Harper? You’re damned right.” He walked away, because he didn’t want to fight with her.

  She didn’t follow and he heard the bedroom door slam.

  Fifteen minutes later, the police chief pulled up. Drew had only met him a few times and knew Emily thought the world of him. Even so, Drew prepared himself for what he knew was coming. It was a small town and the chief had to appease the citizens to keep his job. But he’d passive aggressively let Drew know that he’d wasted his time. Seven years of dealing with law enforcement while searching for Hope had taught him that.

  Drew got off the couch and opened the door as Chief Shepard came up the slate walkway. He wasn’t in uniform and Drew noted that he had a sports coat on. No jacket. “Thanks for coming.”

  The chief nodded. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

  “Thanks.” He ushered Shepard in. “It’s around back.”

  The chief wiped his boots on the mat, took a curious look around, and followed Drew to the kitchen.

  “I was getting a glass of water here when I saw…a shadow, I guess. I can’t say for sure whether it was a person.”

  Shepard joined Drew at the sink and peered out the window. “How far away was it?”

  “Near that tree.” He pointed at the grove. “Not much light comes in there, so it’s hard to see.”

  “But you thought it was a person? Man or woman?” There was nothing flippant in the questions, at least not that Drew could detect.

  “Difficult to tell,” he said. “The knapsack is over there.” He motioned to where he’d found it.

  “Let’s have a look.” Shepard waited for Drew to lead the way.

  They walked through the yard together, leaves crunching under their footsteps. The chief was taller than Drew and broader through the shoulders. His gait was brisk and efficient, making Drew wonder if he was in a hurry to get this over with.

  “Did you touch it?”

  “No. Look, I know this seems crazy. It’s a planned community for God’s sake. But…”

  “You don’t have to explain.” The chief stopped and turned so he faced Drew. “People should follow their guts.” He continued to the spot where Drew had found the pack.

  As they came up on it, the chief stuck his arm out to stop Drew from walking, pulled out his phone, and snapped a few pictures, first of the backpack and then of the canteen. He hiked around the area, checking the ground and the trees. Then he slipped on a pair of latex gloves and proceeded to rifle through the bag’s contents. Drew wondered if it was an elaborate charade to mock him.

  Shepard circled the site and snapped a few more photographs.

  “Do you think there is something sinister here?” Drew asked, feelin
g stupid for having gotten the ball rolling in the first place. He was starting to wonder if the chief was a nut.

  “Not necessarily. You were smart to call, though.” He picked the pack up by its strap and grabbed the canteen. “I’m going to take these with me. You’ll call again if you see anything suspicious.” He didn’t pose it as a question, but Drew nodded anyway.

  Instead of going through the house, the chief walked around the side of the garage to the driveway, where he opened his tailgate and dropped the items in his trunk. “You take care now,” he drawled in an accent that seemed to come and go. Maybe the south, Drew couldn’t tell. And with that, Shepard drove off.

  Chapter 9

  Raylene rubbed her hands together. Even with gloves on, her fingers felt like they were about to fall off.

  “Bet you wish you were in LA right now.” Gabe came down from the ladder and stood back to view the sign. “Looks good.”

  “It does, doesn’t it? You think they’ll like it?”

  “Are you kidding? They’ll love it. Nice gift, Rosser.”

  “Thanks for putting it up for me.” That was twice in the span of only a couple hours that she’d thanked him, and it struck her that she didn’t usually show appreciation. Most of her life she’d been waited on. By Cecilia, the stable boys, the ranch hands, even by her mother. She’d been raised to think it was her God-given right to be pampered. Even married to Butch, there’d been housekeepers, gardeners, a pool boy. For a while, she’d even had a personal assistant. Of course, the woman had turned out to be one of Butch’s girlfriends who’d needed a job.

  “You’re welcome. You want to go back to the house or wait until they return from the Lumber Baron and watch their reaction when they see it?”

  The gate and sign formed an archway over the driveway right before the house. Every ranch in the Sierra Nevada had one. As far as Raylene was concerned, it was a requirement. Her own heart had always filled with pride when she passed through the curlicue iron gates of Rosser Ranch, her family’s brand burned into the big metal sign.

  “Let’s wait, but in the truck.”

  He put his hand at the small of her back and directed her to his SUV, where he immediately turned on the heat. “Logan’ll think it’s an ambush.”

  “You guys are weird.”

  He chuckled and checked his watch. “Only a few more hours to showtime.” The wedding.

  “Yep.” She had butterflies in her stomach. The potluck had been bad enough, but now she’d be forced to face the whole town. Worst of all, Lucky, Tawny, and Cecilia.

  He slid her a glance. “Just stick with me. It’ll be over before you know it.”

  She hoped so, but time seemed to grind to a standstill when you wanted it to move fast.

  “You dance?” He turned sideways in his seat. “They’re having some kind of swing band.”

  “Why, you asking if I’ll be your partner?” Lord knew no one else would.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll dance with you, Ray.” He winked and she marveled at how he’d turned it around to make it seem like she was asking him.

  “I’d rather maintain a low profile.”

  “Why? You afraid Tawny Rodriguez will beat you up?”

  Raylene wouldn’t blame her if she did. She’d treated the woman like crap in high school, teasing and taunting her until Thelma—that was Tawney’s real name—had cracked like glass. Until recently, she’d never realized why she’d had it out for the girl. It wasn’t like they ran in the same circles or that Raylene had to compete with Thelma for Lucky’s heart. Back then, he didn’t even know Thelma existed. Half the time, Thelma didn’t come to school because she had to take care of her sick dad. They lived in a rundown house in a neighborhood Raylene’s mother called skid row.

  One day, Raylene saw Thelma and her dad at the flea market at the Grange Hall. He fixed and refurbished old clocks for a living, when he wasn’t coughing up a lung from all those cigarettes he smoked, and was probably trolling for deals. Unlike Ray’s shiny cowboy boots and big silver buckles, Mr. Wade wore faded overalls and scuffed work boots. Ray called him an “Okie from Muskogee” on account of his Oklahoma accent.

  At the market, both she and Thelma fixated on the same bracelet-making kit. It came with leather bands and eight stamp design tools, and Raylene thought of all the pretty bracelets she could make for her and friends. When she asked Ray to buy it for her, he laughed. “What do you need that for? I’ll buy you a damn bracelet.”

  “But I want to make them, Daddy.”

  “Raylene, you never made a goddamn thing in your life, except a mess.” He walked away to talk to one of his cattle friends.

  Mr. Wade rifled through his wallet and dumped out at least three dollars in change. The man didn’t have two sticks to rub together, but he bought Thelma the bracelet kit. Raylene observed the whole transaction, pea green with envy and a dose of awe. All she could think was someone had finally bested Daddy and had made him look like a cheap toad.

  But when Mr. Wade handed Thelma the dusty box and said, “Here you go, sugar. Make me something as pretty as you,” something in Raylene’s chest twisted until she found it hard to breathe. And from that day on, she made it her personal mission to make Thelma Wade pay for every rotten thing Ray Rosser had ever called Raylene.

  She poked Gabe in the chest. “I don’t have to worry about Tawny beating me up, because I’ve got a guard dog.”

  He grinned in that placating way that said she was crazy and tilted his seat back. “Don’t press your luck, Ray. I like Tawny Rodriguez and consider her a good friend.”

  She wondered what he considered her. A chore? A favor to Logan? Someone to play around with in his spare time?

  She wanted to ask why he was still single but didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. Besides, she already knew why. Gabe Moretti liked to play. He was the quintessential man-child. Raylene ought to know, having been married to one.

  Her cell rang and she fished it out of her jacket pocket to look at the display. “Ugg, why can’t he leave me alone?”

  Gabe sat up to look. “Want your guard dog to handle it?”

  “My gawd dawg,” she mimicked, and swiped his hand away from the phone and answered. “Stop bothering me, Butch.”

  “Well, what do you know? The crazy bitch lives. I was starting to wonder if you’d given yourself rabies and died.”

  She balled her hands into fists and kicked herself a thousand times for answering the phone. “Make this quick, Butch, I’ve got stuff to do.”

  “I hope one of those things is picking up your horse, because there’s no more room at the inn. If he’s not out by tomorrow, I’m selling him to the highest bidder.”

  She’d been offered fifteen thousand dollars for the gelding and Butch knew it. And he was just mean enough to sell her prized horse right out from under her.

  “Tomorrow, give me a break. It’s Sunday. The deal was you’d keep him until I found a stable to board him.”

  “Not indefinitely, and your time is up. Get him or kiss him goodbye. I’m not kidding, Raylene. I’ve been trying to reach you for days. I’ve got two new quarter horses that need that space.”

  The man was a jackass. “If you sell Gunner I’ll go back to court, so help me God.”

  “Good, talk to the judge, Raylene, because I’m not listening.” Click.

  Gabe watched her tuck the phone back in her pocket. “What was that about?”

  “He’s giving me until tomorrow to get my horse from his ranch in Colorado or he’s threatening to sell him.”

  “You got a plan?”

  She lifted her face to the roof of his SUV and let out a sigh. “No. I don’t have a trailer, a driver, or a place to board him.” Or any money. “And I’ve got my brother’s wedding in three hours.”

  * * * *

  With three phone calls, Gabe solved the problem.
But just for kicks he’d like to fly to Denver himself and beat the shit out of Butch. He got it; Raylene was no cake walk. But only a special kind of douchebag threatens to sell a person’s beloved pet.

  “Weezer said he’d do it?” Logan flipped the toggles on a pair of cuff links.

  “Yep. He’s living in Boulder now and can score a trailer. He also said ‘fuck you’ for not inviting him to your wedding.”

  “Seriously? The fire marshal cut us off at one hundred and fifty people. Annie has a million friends.” Logan nudged his head at the longneck Gabe held between his legs. “You going to drink that?”

  Gabe handed it to him. “Nervous?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then how come you’re sweating?”

  “It’s hot in here.”

  Gabe got up and cracked a window. “We just need a place for Wilbur, and I’m guessing Annie doesn’t want him eating her crop of hay, so the farm’s out of the question.”

  “Maybe Flynn or Clay have room at their places until we can build a corral.”

  “We?” After the wedding Logan and Annie were on their way to a sandy beach in Hawaii. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” The problem was he didn’t know if Flynn or Clay would be accommodating once they learned it was for Raylene. Lucky was certainly out of the question. But Logan didn’t need to worry about Raylene’s horse less than an hour before his wedding.

  “How’s it going in here?” Nick came through the door, dressed in a tux, looking like a million bucks.

  “You two need some alone time?” Gabe asked.

  “Yeah, beat it.” Nick opened the door and squeezed Gabe’s shoulder on the way out.

  Gabe figured Nick wanted to do some father-son bonding before Logan took his vows and went in search of something stiffer than a beer. Downstairs, he found Chad stuffing his face with cheese and crackers.

  “What? I’m starved.”

  “I didn’t say anything.” Gabe opened the pantry, grabbed a bottle of Glenlivet, and poured himself two fingers. “You want one?”