Trudy’s demeanor stilled. She clasped her hands demurely in front and spoke softly. “This is because of Kate Riley, isn’t it?”
He missed Kate. He loved her and wanted her back here, right in this house, because not having her here was eating him alive.
But.
But.
“I see.” Trudy took the white apron off. “Well, the nice meatloaf is on the stove. Do yourself a favor and eat a vegetable with it.”
“Trudy.” Butch grabbed her hand when she walked past. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, it’s me. I just need to sleep. Forgive me?”
Trudy cupped Butch’s face. “Always. Now, I’m going to go take care of a few things. You do the same.”
“Bitch! Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch.” Kate kicked a folding chair, thunder raging inside the trailer.
“Are you sure it’s a woman?” Waters leaned over Tom’s shoulder toward the grainy image. A figure in black used a baseball bat on the call-button stand outside the new gate. The figure tried to strangle the box and then kick in the post. When the gate didn’t open, a bottle with a tail was lit and lobbed over the fence.
“She throws like a girl.” Kate sneered at the screen as the figure threw two more.
The trailer door opened, and Jeb stepped in.
Kate wondered how she would feel seeing Jeb again. Here he stood, and all she felt was pissed that someone threw three homemade, cheap-ass fire bombs into her yard. “Look at that, Jeb! Right there. Vandalism and destruction of private property and…and…trespassing.”
“Let me see what we’ve got.” Jeb took Tom’s seat and watched the video. “She couldn’t have walked. Are there any cars on the footage?”
“Ha! So you think it’s a woman, too.”
“Moves like a woman,” Jeb said. “No man I know throws like that.”
Tom held a mug of coffee out to Jeb. “Except maybe you, Clyde.”
Jeb accepted the cup. “Even in diapers, I threw better than that. Now, I didn’t see any damage.”
Tom took a chair at the table, the rest followed suit. “They landed in the middle of the parking area. There’s nothing there to burn.”
Jeb set his notebook on the table and sketched the scene quickly. “Did you call my friend about those dogs?”
Kate held up her palm. “I need to rethink the dogs. I liked the idea when it was graffiti. I’m not sure I want some psycho burning dogs alive.”
“Any other ideas?” Jeb asked.
Kate and Tom rattled off a few.
“We could hire a sniper.”
“We could electrify the fence.”
“We could stay here, sleep here.”
“More cameras.”
“An alarm.”
“Armed guards.”
“A moat, with alligators.”
Jeb looked between the pair. “Alligators?”
“Nobody messes with alligators,” Tom said reasonably.
“Call Landon Finch. He handles all of Butch’s security on tour. He’ll have the kind of contacts you need for property security. I’ll do what I can to have my guys drive by, but I don’t have a lot of resources.” Jeb scribbled the name and number on a sheet in his notebook, ripped it out, and slid it to the center of the table. “You two settle in to Hatter’s place?”
Kate leaned back in her chair. “We appreciate your help. It’s a good place. Just needed a little dusting. Mr. Hatter stopped by to check on us. I don’t think he believed we were cousins.”
Tom reached for the paper Jeb left. “Dinner’s at the usual time, if you’re interested.”
“Well…I…”
“No awkward moments,” Kate said. “We’d all become friends over the weeks. I’m not asking either of you to take sides. There are no sides. What happened, happened. I’m moving on. Jeb, you’re welcome at this house any time. Dinner included. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to inspect the fencing and find a spot for the alligators.”
“Kate?” Jeb crossed the room and hugged her awkwardly. “Don’t do anything stupid. Okay?”
“Did Mom make this?” Jeb levered a thick slab of meatloaf out of the pan and onto his plate. “Did she make mashed potatoes, too?”
“Mom didn’t make it. Trudy did.” Butch sat opposite his brother, glad for another heartbeat in the house. “I took a bite out of her yesterday, one she didn’t deserve.”
Jeb paused a moment. “What happened?”
Butch told the story, explaining how he’d been going on little sleep. Jeb glossed over his sins focusing on one point.
“Did Trudy seem upset when she left?”
“No. She accepted my apology and moved on. She’s good like that, Jeb. I can’t ever remember having a fight with Trudy.”
Jeb pushed the plate away. “Somebody vandalized the Riley site last night. A woman went at the gate box something fierce and tossed three Molotov cocktails over the fence.”
Butch shook his head like a bobble doll. “That can’t be right.” He’d done the right thing and walked away. He paid for Kate’s safety with his misery. She was out of this. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Property damage. Call box is busted, but the cocktails burned harmlessly.” Jeb scratched his chin. “She was there when I went to investigate. Kate. She looks as bad as you do. I don’t know what happened out in California, but there isn’t much in life that can’t be undone.”
Butch rubbed his eyes. “I don’t want her in this, Jeb.”
Jeb chewed slowly, his gaze on Butch’s face. “That’s why you broke it off? You’re scared?”
Butch looked at his hands, picked at callous tips. “I can live alone, knowing she’s alive. I can’t live knowing she died because of me.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Butch. Don’t you see that? We aren’t in control here. Until we figure out who the suspect is, all we can do is play defense. The best way to do that is stick together. Call that woman up.” Jeb ticked the items off on his fingers. “Tell her you were a dumbass. Tell her you love her, and beg her to forgive you.”
“It’s not that simple, Jeb. I wish it were.” Butch looked out the window, and the night reflected his ghostly image. Since when had his cheekbones stuck out like that? His eyes sunken in? “Four more weeks. I’ll leave for my tour, and she’ll be safe.” He couldn’t talk about this anymore. “There’s a game on tonight. Any interest in watching?”
Jeb sighed. “I could catch a few innings.”
“Good. Eat up. I’ll be in the studio.” Butch climbed the creaky stairs to the large room. He picked up an acoustic that had been his go-to in his twenties. “You and I have come a long way, haven’t we? You have any stories left for me?”
His fingers slid down the fret board, settling in around number seven. They moved like Irish dancers, quick strokes forward and back, up and down. With the first blast of energy burned off, he swung into a tune that sounded like something made thirty years ago. The twang touched him deep inside, soothing what hurt.
“Son of a bitch!” Jeb shouted.
Chapter Twenty-One
Butch set the guitar on the floor and ran, because Jeb rarely shouted. “What’s the matter?”
Jeb buttoned his shirt over a bullet proof vest. “Those two boneheads are sitting in a tree with rifles.”
Butch knew Jeb’s job could be dangerous, but seeing him with a vest, going out into the night, scared the crap out of him. “What boneheads? You can’t go alone.”
“Kate and Tom are the boneheads, and hell, yeah, I’m going alone. That way there’ll be no witnesses when I beat them to a pulp.”
“I’m going with you.” Butch fought to pull on a pair of boots while hopping across the floor, knowing if he wasn’t fast, Jeb would leave him. “I can help you talk Tom down, and then Kate will come, too.”
With his lights and sirens going, Jeb made the drive in nearly half the time. He drove around the site, his spotlight combing the fence line.
“Who called it in?” Butch peered into the trees, see
ing nothing human.
“One of the local boys they hired. He’s trying to keep the bosses out of trouble.”
“Do you really think it’s them? Maybe your killer is setting them up. Did you call Tom?” Butch woke his cell and called Tom’s number on speakerphone. It rolled to voicemail.
“Let me try.” Jeb did the same, but his call was answered.
“Hello?” Tom spoke in a deep whisper.
Jeb snapped the words. “Where are you?”
“Uh…”
Jeb threw the vehicle into park and stormed out. “Don’t bullshit me. Where are you and Kate?”
“Kate? What makes you think she’s with me?”
A shot came from behind the car. Butch followed Jeb along the fence line. They rounded a corner, walking across a grassy field. The thick foliage blotted out the lights from Jeb’s truck. The only light came from the moon.
“Why did you do that?” Tom’s voice.
“It was an accident,” Kate answered.
Butch started to jog, a bad idea on dark and unfamiliar land. The idea of her in a tree with a gun…what happened when their target shot back?
Jeb crossed a small swale where grass reached past their knees.
“I’ve had enough of this. Get out here. Now.” Another shot fired and Jeb fell to the ground. “Down. I’m hit.”
“What!” Butch crawled to his brother, desperate to see the wound. He never would have believed it if he weren’t there himself. Kate and Tom shot Jeb. He rolled Jeb, and an odor as pungent and offensive as he ever smelled filled his sinuses.
Jeb coughed, struggling to sit up. “Jesus, what’s that smell?”
“It’s you. I think. I can’t find a hole, but there a wet spot on your shoulder.” He inhaled deeply and instantly regretted it. “Oh yeah. You’ve been skunked.”
“Son of a—” Jeb tore at his shirt. “Thomas Riley. Kate Riley. Get down here. You have to the count of five before I arrest you for assaulting an officer.”
“I told you it was Jeb.” Tom’s voice. “Can’t you lip read?”
“It’s dark. I thought it was our bitch. It was a warning shot. I missed.”
Butch followed the fence another fifty feet to a twisted willow tree. The trunk of the willow stood inside the fence, but many of the thick branches hung over.
“You said you knew how to fire it.” Tom’s voice again, annoyed.
“I do. You pull the trigger. Nothing to it.”
“Yeah, that’s what you said about the chicken parmesan.”
Butch chuckled at the banter. God, he missed this. “Y’all better come down. Jeb is riled. You don’t want him coming up for you.”
A bear’s growl came from behind him. “Did you find them, Butch?”
“Yeah. At the big willow.”
Tom handed Butch the modified paintball gun and dropped to the ground. Butch reached to help Kate, but Tom bodied him out of the way and set her on the ground.
Kate moved away from Butch, keeping Tom between them. She couldn’t breathe with Butch so close. She was over him, she reminded herself. He had the woman in the red dress, and she had her work. She told herself she was moving on and to act normal. Fake it if she had to.
Jeb stomped into view. “What. Were. You. Thinking.”
Kate leaned toward Tom. “It’s never good when each word is its own sentence.”
Tom stepped forward. “We talked about taking added steps, Jeb.”
Jeb pointed a finger in Tom’s face. “Like getting dogs. Like hiring security. Not sitting in a tree and taking pot shots at folks. What the hell did you hit me with anyway?”
“It’s a homemade stink ball.” Tom sounded proud. “We took paintball shells and filled them with a skunk-sulfur-tuna fish mixture suspended in an oil emulsion. It’ll take days to scrub off.”
“What? This isn’t coming off for days?”
Tom stepped closer to inspect Jeb. “It really does smell, doesn’t it? Yeah, I think you have some splatter. Use tomato juice and Dawn. Treat it like you’ve been skunked.”
“I have been skunked!”
Butch snickered and stepped closer to Jeb. “I’m glad we didn’t take my truck. You probably should strip before you get in the car.”
“You guys like cloth seats down here, right?” Kate avoided eye contact with Butch and hoped her voice sounded steadier than she felt. She fumbled with the gun, setting the butt on the ground. “You should definitely strip before—pow—shit, didn’t mean to do that.”
The rifle discharged a stink ball straight up. They scrambled for distance, having no idea where the stink ball would land.
Plop.
Jeb grabbed the gun from Kate’s hands. “Give me that. And your ammunition.”
She handed over a small bag with a dozen balls.
“You, too.” Jeb held his hand out for Tom’s rifle. “Give.”
Tom handed it over.
“We are not done talking about this. Tomorrow morning. Bright and early. Both of you. Got it?”
“Fine,” Tom said. “It would have worked, Jeb. We would have been able to find the woman in the dark.”
“I’m done with this tonight. Go home, and stay put.” Jeb arranged the rifles and ammo so he could still walk. “I may have to burn this shirt. Twelve years of college between you two, and you’re sitting in a tree skunking people.”
Kate felt like a chastised child. “When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”
“It is ridiculous. Big brains and overactive imaginations. God, this smell is never going away. Give me dumb, boring criminals any day.” Jeb huffed out a heavy breath. “You need a ride back?”
“No. We left the truck close.” Tom boosted Kate into the tree then climbed the fence.
Relief made Kate twenty pounds lighter. She worried she’d have to sit in a truck with Butch. She’d done her best not to look at him, but she felt his presence. Her heart squeezed at the familiar banter she’d not realized how much she’d missed. She loved him. She didn’t know if there would ever be a time she wouldn’t love him. But it didn’t matter. He’d ended it and sealed the deal by cuddling up with the stranger. Her father was right, a man like Butch had a woman in every city.
“You were right,” Kate said, needing lighter thoughts in her head. “We should have electrified the fence.”
Butch lay in bed, the morning sun sneaking in around the edges of the window shades. A week ago, he’d had Kate satisfied and sprawled across his chest. He’d listened to her breathe, inhaled that scent. He’d followed her down the stairs for coffee with the family.
If he closed his eyes, he could still smell the coffee.
Actually, with his eyes open, he could smell the coffee now. Butch slid out of bed and went downstairs. In the kitchen, bright with sunlight, Jeb sat at the kitchen table.
Jeb crossed his legs and tied his boot. “I thought you gave up the early hours.”
“I thought…” Butch looked around, but it was just the two of them.
“Tom gave me the recipe. Do I still smell to you?”
Butch walked behind his brother. Sniffed. “Do you want the truth?”
“Son of a bitch. I am going to get them back. I don’t know where. I don’t know when, but one day. Boom.” Jeb tied his lace and stomped his boot on the floor.
Butch closed his eyes, holding back his laughter. Jeb didn’t talk this much. Jeb didn’t say “boom.”
“I know you’re laughing back there.”
“I’m not,” Butch denied, but the laughter fell out of him. “Did you see the two of them up in that tree?”
Jeb chortled, tying his other boot. “Tom nearly fell on his head. Now that would have been funny. What are you doing today?”
“Rehearsals. Finch has some details he wants to review. I’ll probably grab dinner in Nashville.”
Jeb stood, sniffed his own shoulder, and opened the back door. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Butch closed the door behind Jeb and took his coffee to th
e living room. Everything looked the same and nothing did. Then something caught his eye. A white tube sat propped in the corner between the piano and the wall. Butch opened the top and pulled out the sketches for his house.
He remembered Kate working on it on the table. Jeb made dinner than night, and Butch and Kate set the table. She rolled up the plans and set it aside. That was forever ago. Before he proposed. Before California.
Butch rolled the long sheet out. Three-feet wide by two-feet tall, the pages held ink drawn by Kate’s hand. Pencil shadowed the background along with notes and figures by a different hand. Tom’s. Butch laughed at a note that said, “Subject to gravity.”
Over the front door, a small sign had been sketched in. The words were written on the bottom of the sheet with an arrow to the right place. “Live. Love. Laugh.”
Pain racked Butch’s system. An emotional pain as real as any physical one he’d ever had. Who was he kidding? Staying away from Kate wasn’t keeping her safe, and it was killing him. He needed to talk to her.
Thirty minutes later, Butch stood outside the site gate and argued with a man on a chair.
“I’m sorry, Mr. McCormick, but you’re not on my list.” The elder gentleman took his position as gate operator seriously.
“Kate Riley knows me.”
“I reckon everyone knows you.” He spit on the ground.
Butch could see the trailer and Kate’s truck. All he needed was five minutes. Five minutes to apologize and win her back. “Can you call her? I’m sure she’ll add me to the list.”
The old man closed one eye against the sun. “Tom Riley made the list. Would he add you to it?”
Would he? “Of course.”
Boots on gravel had both men looking into the sun. “Well, speak of the devil,” the old man said. “Mr. McCormick was just asking to see Kate. I told him he wasn’t on the list.”
Butch hadn’t noticed how intimidating Tom Riley could be. He had the size and the strength, and right now, he had hate in his eyes.
“Why don’t you take a break, Mr. Anderson? Paula has some homemade lemonade in the trailer.” Tom stayed quiet until Anderson departed. “You here to see Kate?”
“Yeah. Look, Tom, I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have broken things off. I…I just need to talk to her.”
Lost in Tennessee Page 33
