“Teachers,” she scoffed and shook her head. “Some of them had the manners worse than any teen kids I’ve ever known. They acted like they were too good for the town, that’s for sure. I felt sorry for those kids, locked up there all the time. They’d sneak out at night just for fun. Walls and fences don’t contain kids that smell freedom.”
“Sneaking out can be a game,” Tasha agreed as she finished her burger, her finger pressed flat to lift the sesame seeds and lick them off.
“I think they wanted a taste of a normal life.” She seemed to be studying Tasha closely. “Your folks didn’t leave you there.”
“I tried it for a semester,” she embellished skillfully. “I didn’t like it.”
“Don’t blame you one bit. That Dr. Harrison…” she shook her head, the short clipped silver hair barely moving. “He was a piece of work. We heard stories about that school. Too many doctors and nurses in the place, if you ask me.”
“Some of the kids were developmentally disabled,” Tasha said quietly, aware of Dell watching her very closely. “They took a little more care, I guess. But some were very smart.”
“A few of the parents stopped in town when they’d dump off their kid. Those kids were sold to that place for something. Poor kids born to people like that…then they’d brag on how much they were being paid so their kid could stay there and take tests,” she lowered her voice even though no one else was in the diner. “Experiments. I know they were using those kids for some kind of experiments.”
“After the fire, you didn’t see anyone? Any of the kids or people who worked there?” Tasha finished her fries even though her appetite had faded.
“No one. If anyone made it out, they didn’t come into town. My kids used to tell me when they’d spend time with any of the kids from the Academy. They’d all hang out down at the youth center. Isn’t there anymore, though. No money and less kids in town these days.” She pulled a pad from her pocket and wrote across the front before dropping it to the table. “Hey, Jacob! Where you been? Nice talking to you.”
Tasha watched her walk away, the corner of her lip pulled between her teeth in thought.
“That was an interesting story,” Dell commented, leaning to one side and pulling his wallet free of the jacket resting on the other chair.
“Excuse me?”
“She bought it and you got a little information from her,” he tossed some cash onto the bill without looking at it. “But I don’t think you were in the school.”
“Oh?” Tasha opened her pack and was reaching for her wallet when his hand covered hers to stop her.
“My treat, Natasha. The look in your eyes was too sad. Too angry. And all at the same time,” he continued staring at her. “I have a feeling we’re at the same hotel. Let’s walk together.”
“There is only one hotel,” she said, a little sullen as she stood up and shrugged into her pack.
“Where did you first run into the guy who came into the diner?” He asked, waiting patiently for her to agree.
“The ruins of the school. I was taking photos,” she answered absently.
“Can you tell me why?”
“Not really. It’s personal.”
“That’s a nice, safe catch phrase,” he commented. He draped his jacket over one arm and took her hand in his with the other. “So a school that wasn’t really a school at all. How long ago was the fire?”
“Almost twenty years now.”
“You don’t look like a cop.” He laughed at the scowl she offered up at him. She wasn’t very tall, he realized as they walked, her hiking boots adding a few inches to her scant five foot five. If that.
“That’s the second time I heard that today and I could be a cop,” she informed him defiantly.
“You could. But I don’t think you are... You certainly have the backbone for it,” he complimented lightly. “He’s been following you all day?”
“He tried being subtle, but he’s not good at it. I saw him when I was talking to the fire chief, then again when I left the police station,” she gazed casually around as they walked the almost empty streets. “I forgot what life in a small town was like.” She sighed, a hint of frustration easing free. “I wish that youth center was still there. Maybe I could get a name or two of the kids. But they’d probably not use their real name anyway.”
“Careful, or the sidewalks will roll up with you inside,” he joked softly. “He’s still following, Tasha…and you’re right, he’s not very subtle about it. He has to know there’s only one place in town to stay…so why follow you?”
“Checking to see who I talk to, I guess. No idea. He said his sister was at the school when the fire happened. But the waitress said no one survived it…and given the chatter in small towns, she’d know if they filtered through town,” Tasha didn’t issue a protest when his fingers released hers and settled at her hip, holding her close to his side. “So why are you in this little town?”
“Making a purchase for the ranch I work for,” he answered honestly. “Several head of prime cattle and a couple head of bison. They’ll be delivered next weekend.”
“I knew you were a cowboy,” she said with a little chuckle, shivering when a dry breeze swept past her shoulders. “I think there’s too many ghosts in this town,” she mumbled as they entered the small lobby of the hotel. The stale air from outside was replaced with a cooler, but still stale air. “Well, thank you, Dell. It was an interesting dinner.”
He watched her head to the stairs, her hand digging in the pocket of her jeans. The sound of the key jangling didn’t pull his attention from the compact body and sweet scent that walked away from him.
Chapter Twenty-One
He glared at the computer screen after sending the email off letting them know the sale was complete. The air conditioner hummed in the background as he closed the lid to the laptop and considered his options.
He definitely wasn’t tired. And he knew from the sounds, that Natasha Banks had the adjoining room. He doubted Higley saw many visitors, the Double R Ranch probably one of the largest in the area and guilty of bringing buyers to town for short stays. He wondered why he hadn’t sent one of his foremen even as a part of him said it was worth the time just to meet the mysterious little honey blonde.
He checked his watch. Barely eight and he was wide awake.
Which worked out well because the light tap on the door made more than his posture stiffen up. He stood and crossed the room, turned the lock and opened the connecting door.
“Can I use your…phone…” Tasha stopped and blinked up. And up a little more. Then down at her bare feet, as if that answered the question in her eyes. “I can’t get the air to come on or the window to open…and the phone isn’t working.” She pushed a long breath between her lips. “Sorry. Heat makes me cranky.”
“I think it’s cool enough to open the window and the screens seem to be in good order,” he said when she stopped speaking. “Let me take a look at it for you.”
“I’m sorry I sounded so…grumpy. You’d think if the town only had two good rooms that worked, we could get those,” she walked behind him, a little gasp breaking free when she saw him pull a pocket knife out and expertly flip it open.
“Usually they stick because people paint over them,” Dell glanced over his shoulder at the look on her face and laughed. “It’s to pry it free.”
“They let you on the plane with that?”
“I have a special license,” he said with another chuckle. “And friends that get me through without all the searches,” he used the edge of the knife and slowly worked it between the window and the pane, while the other hand tried lifting it open. A few minutes later, the window slid effortlessly higher, letting the cool night air into the room.
“Oh, god, that feels good. Thank you. I thought I was gonna smother in here,” Tasha plopped down on the edge of the bed. “I swear, I’m too spoiled for climates like this for very long. That’s pitiful.”
Dell had to laugh at her. “Na
tural air conditioning is one thing you miss when you leave home.” He looked down at the bare toes she was scratching against the worn carpeting. They were painted a bright neon yellow. “Such pretty toes and no place to go, Cinderella?”
“Oh, you know…I missed the last pumpkin to the ball,” she tossed back with a cheeky grin that made him laugh again.
“No ball in sight, but there’s a tavern down the street with music.”
“I’m pretty sure in these parts the word tavern is defined extremely loosely.”
“I’ll act as escort and protector,” he offered, unwilling to end the evening yet.
“I’m not sleepy,” she admitted with a little pout, bouncing off the bed and onto the floor the next minute.
“A decisive woman,” he chuckled.
Dell stared. Very far from the women he’d become accustomed to the last few years. There she sat, in the middle of a worn out carpet, in a far less than top notch hotel, pulling on simple white socks and her hiking boots. His laugh was internal when he went into his room and made sure he had the room key and wallet before sliding into the light jacket he’d brought with him.
Sexy was not a word anyone he knew would apply to her in her present state. Which he knew would work in his favor because those people wouldn’t have kissed her or taken the time to look into a pair of sparkling amber eyes. She kept them fairly well hidden behind the lenses she wore. But he’d been trained to look for the invisible.
He crossed the connecting threshold in time to offer his hand when she finished tying up her shoes. Not for the first time since boarding the airplane to Salt Lake City did he wonder why his hormones had kicked in with this woman. Maybe he was developing a fondness to tangerines he never knew he had.
“That’s a funny look, Dell,” she said, patting down her pockets before striding back to close the window slightly.
“Trying to understand how the universe works.”
Tasha went out her door, made sure it was locked and walked with him to the stairs. “That’s a tough one. Just when you think you might have things in nice neat little cubicles, a north wind comes in and everything’s upside down. Some things aren’t meant to be understood, I think.”
“Philosophical, Miss Banks.”
“I try. It saves headaches later on in life to just learn to go with it.” Tasha’s body shivered when the night air struck them once free of the interior of the hotel. “My goodness…”
“Desert nights are a lot colder than they look,” he said simply, his hand immediately on her waist and keeping her close to his side. He angled them toward the bright, multi-colored lights of the Higley Tavern. Every type of cheap beer advertised in neon and the parking lot filled. “Looks like a hopping night in Higley.”
“Pre-Friday celebrations,” she murmured. “Rules. No bar fights.”
“And exactly what about me, makes you believe I’ve been in bar fights?” But he raised his free hand and stroked over his jaw, memories as fresh as yesterday.
“Oh, please. Everyone knows cowboys get into bar fights. It’s like…tradition.”
“Usually because of some woman,” he growled under his breath.
“What? No fights over your horse?” She laughed at the narrowed dark lashes. “I’m not sure my boss would understand bail money on an expense report. Would yours?”
“Probably,” he admitted, since he signed his own expense reports.
“That only serves to prove my point, you know,” she told him with a sigh. Her eyes naturally squinted in the confused mixture of lighting that spread across the large, open space. Small tables; a pool table off to the corner; a long very busy bar and a space of empty flooring for dancing. Evidently people weren’t drunk enough to dance yet, though, she thought.
“So what’s your drink of choice, Natasha?”
“Why do you insist on the full name?” She demanded with a glare up at him. Her body and lungs froze when he leaned down, his mouth hovering just off hers.
“I have a thing for the Russian from an old cartoon and keep picturing you in a long, slinky black evening gown with no back and a low front. The name keeps the fantasy alive.”
“Oh. Well…water for me…thank you…a big water…with ice?”
“Living on the edge, huh?” Dell chuckled and caught the bartender’s attention. He ordered her water and an imported beer he saw on the wall menu.
“Some of us have really close edges,” Tasha turned her back to the bar and hitched her elbows on the brass bar that rimmed the old bar. “Ever wonder what goes on in other people’s minds?”
“Not really. Got enough grief from what goes on in my own head,” he answered, laughing at the rolled eyes she offered in response.
“Okay…so no wonder about the people around you game…hmm…can you dance?” She frowned at the silence that drew out and turned to face him, her head tipped to the side. “You can dance but you don’t like to. Why? Afraid they’ll make fun of you? You’re a little big for that concern.”
“Bar fights,” he murmured dryly, deciding he really liked her laughter and the way the little tail of honey gold flipped at the back of her head.
“Okay…so why did you need new cows?”
“Not cows. Cattle,” he corrected automatically before taking a long drink of the very cold ale. He looked over to see one of her eyes closed as she seemed to be considering his words. “City girl. Cows give milk. Cattle are raised for beef.”
“Umm…but you can eat a cow.”
“You could. Beef cattle raised for their meat is tastier. They also look different. I’m pretty sure there isn’t a part of cattle that isn’t used for something. From meat to bones to hide,” Dell could almost see the explanation being catalogued. “Never been to a ranch before?”
“No. I’ve been to the grocery store,” she offered cheekily. “Have you always been a cowboy?”
“I prefer ranch hand,” he said with a wince at the look from a few of the locals.
“Huh. I like cowboy. It sounds…sexy,” she concluded, sliding her jacket down her arms and laying it on the stool behind her. “Is it hard?” She asked, her voice suddenly serious. “Killing things, I mean.”
“They’re not pets, Tasha,” he said softly, his hand reaching over and brushing the stray hair from her eyebrow. “And it’s a lot easier than you might think. The choice to eat or not makes it easy.”
“The choice to breathe or not,” she said as if talking to herself. “I wondered. Thought about it all the way down on the flight. Guess I’ve been lucky. No wars or…or a school where they held you against your will. I think it would stay with you a long time, but I could…and walk away without ever looking back.”
Dell wasn’t sure where she’d gone in her mind or the description she offered, but he knew they weren’t talking about cattle any longer. He knew it had something to do with what she was researching in the area and it wasn’t something pleasant.
“I’ve been in battles,” he waited, drawing her attention back from the musings.
“You were in the military?”
“Six years with the army. Decided I liked cattle better. Less scars that way,” he told her before taking another drink from the dark bottle. “The point is…if you have to kill to survive, that’s what makes it viable. It’s not something with an easy answer.”
“No…no…it isn’t. But I know I could if I had to,” she shook her head and stared into the unfamiliar faces. “I don’t know why that was important for me to figure out, but it was…maybe to understand what…what happened.”
She didn’t clarify and he wasn’t about to ask, the soft haunted tone making him lift the bottle of ale and drain it.
“Let’s dance, Miss Banks,” he shrugged out of his jacket and laid it over hers before taking her hand and leading her to the empty wooden floor.
“I…but…” a pair of slightly frantic eyes blinked up at him.
“Not an exhibitionist?”
“Not…no…usually far from it…”
>
“Shy? Hmm…there’s so much about you to unravel, Natasha Banks,” he swung her into his arms, one hand holding one of hers while the other positioned her palm on his shoulder. His hand went to her hip. “Simple two step, cowboy style,” he told her with a wink. “Just relax…”
“I’m not good at this…I was really just teasing you…” Tasha sighed and peered up through her lashes at him. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”
“First time dancing? I find that hard to believe,” he gazed into the pale amber eyes. “You’ve lived a sheltered life, Miss Banks.”
“I don’t think so,” the corner of her mouth kind of shrugged.
“How did you get into investigating people?” He turned her slowly to the easy to follow tune, his hands gathering her against him as she relaxed.
“It’s a combination offshoot of human resources and security. Some businesses, including the government, need people who can dig and research,” she stared up at him, the faint shine of old scars on his throat and collar bone betrayed by his shirt. She tried not to breathe. Not too much, anyway. He smelled like leather and sunshine. Maybe it was part of his tan, she thought.
“I had no idea it had become that specialized,” Dell commented, his lips resting against her head as a slower tune began playing.
“Too many things seem to slip through basic background checks. A problem we’re having is with people with domestic abuse charges buried in other states. Everything looks good…that one we’re still trying to get a handle on. A lot of previous employers won’t give honest evaluations for fear of retaliation from the employee,” she shrugged and sighed. “You smell nice. I think it’s leather…and you,” she told him, going to her toes and pressing her face against the opening of his shirt. “And warm.”
“Tasha…” Dell felt a strand of control snap. The noise of the patrons, the music and the sounds of glasses clinking around him all seemed to vanish. He released her fingers and reached for the band holding her hair in place. It was thick and coated with something and when he pulled, it slid down the bundle of silk and set the curls free to fall around her face.
WindSwept Narrows: #23 Molly & Natasha Page 17
