The Bull Rider Wears Pink

by Jeanine McAdam

  “No,” she replied.

  Meeting? Could that be with Mike's supplier? The guy John was really looking for. Cassidy could tell her undercover partner was thinking the same thing because his blue eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “Absolutely not,” Mary stressed, even more firmly. “Whatever you are doing, I won't be an accessory.” She added, “All my rooms are booked, there’s no place for meetings or inventory.” That was a smart move on Mary's part when she forced John and Cassidy to stay.

  Then something made of glass shattered against the pavement. Mike was reaching his boiling point. In Cassidy’s experience when the beer bottles started to fly the fists were next. But John wasn’t ready to give up. “Can’t we wait a little longer?” he begged. “Technically he hasn’t broken any laws yet.”

  But Cassidy was done. Enough was enough. “If you're not going to do anything about stopping this, I will,” she announced. No woman was going to get hurt tonight, not on Cassidy's watch.

  John was next to her in two strides. “How about?” he suggested. “You go out there and ask if everyone is okay. Just your presence should settle them down.” John winked at her. “You were always good at that.”

  A wink, what was wrong with the man? Then again, he was right about domestic violence potentially being stopped by a neighbor checking in on the situation. Guys hated to be called out when they were behaving badly and it usually got them to check their anger. “I'll need back up if the situation escalates,” Cassidy warned. “I'm not carrying a badge or weapon anymore.”

  John nodded reluctantly, which wasn't reassuring. Cassidy really hoped the man planned on coming through for Mary. With one last glance at her sleeping son Cassidy slipped out the door. She was almost clear of the room when John gave her a little spank on the butt. “Good luck,” he whispered.

  Jesus, he had nerve, especially since he wasn't even supposed to be touching her. As she hiked across the parking lot she noticed her hands were shaking and heart pounding. This was the adrenaline rush she lived for. Except it wasn't giving her the same high she'd gotten in the past. She really hoped to return from this situation in one piece so that she could take care of her sick son.

  “Hey,” Cassidy said as she came around the side of the building. “I was sleeping over there and I heard some noise.” She stepped out of the shadows while she pointed at her room. “Everything okay?” she asked her voice going higher.

  Mary the Inn Keeper and Mike Shannon stood next to a pickup truck staring at each other. Fingers fisted at their sides and broken glass at their feet. It looked like a beer bottle. But Cassidy didn't concentrate on the crime scene for long. First she had to make sure Mike and Mary wouldn't turn on her.

  Both seemed surprised to see her which was a good sign. Maybe they'd be embarrassed enough by their behavior to end this and go to bed. By morning, the fight they had would seem like a distant memory. Then again, Cassidy's expectation of peace between Mike and Mary was probably much too optimistic.

  “Did our voices wake you?” Mary asked while Mike did a double take. Then it dawned on him who Cassidy was. The man wasn't dumb even though he did stupid things.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Miss Split Pants?” he taunted. He looked both annoyed and suspicious at the same time. “Is that poor excuse of a preacher with you?” he sneered as he folded his arms over his chest.

  “No,” Cassidy replied way too quickly. “My son Kevin is in my room.” If one is lying it's best to stick as close as possible to the true story. “He's sick with the chicken pox.”

  “But you had a man with you when you checked in.” Mary told Cassidy. “A mighty handsome man,” she added with a nod of approval.

  “He left,” Cassidy said. Damn it, she should have thought this through before she lied. Mike eyed her suspiciously. “Called a cab and headed out.” She was waving her hands around like an idiot.

  “Go back to bed,” Mary suggested, “there's no problem here.”

  Cassidy didn't move.

  “We’ll keep it down,” Mary negotiated. She flapped her wrists in a shooing motion.

  Cassidy wasn't going to be sent off so quickly. The woman needed to understand that while working with the Highwaymen Cassidy had become an expert on domestic violence. “Why don't you go to bed too?” she suggested to Mary. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

  After a glance at the clown Mary followed Cassidy. When they were rounding the corner Cassidy looked over her shoulder at Mike. The man stood next to his truck with his hands on his hips staring at the inn keeper. “This isn't over,” he told Mary. “I need your help and you owe me.”

  * * * *

  “He's going to hit her, if not tonight sometime soon, he wants her to do something she's unwilling to do,” Cassidy said when she walked into their room. “A man like that will use any means possible to get what he wants.” She closed the door softly and glanced at Kevin. The boy was still asleep. Hopefully the kid would sleep for twelve hours and maybe forget all the conspiracy theories he developed concerning John earlier in the day.

  “You don't know that,” John told Cassidy sounding like an asshole. He didn't want to be like that but he couldn't figure any way around it. He ran his hands through his hair and paced the room for a moment. “If we wait a little longer we may be able to determine who his supplier is or who is coming to this meeting he’s got planned.”

  Cassidy leaned against the door. “I do know he threatened her as we walked away.” She crossed the room. “The man is frustrated and close to out of control.” She sat on John's cot. The damn thing squeaked even under her feather weight. But Kevin didn't wake up.

  “Can we wait and see a little longer?” John asked politely. “You understand—” he started.

  “Yes,” Cassidy interrupted wearily. Jesus, he didn't want to make her feel that way. He wanted that sweet smile on her face. “You could end the prescription drug dealing at the rodeo if you catch this guy,” she finished his sentence. She looked away from him. “But isn't there another way to do this?” She studied Kevin's chest. “Why do women always have to get hurt?”

  “Mary the Inn Keeper is not hurt yet.” Which was a lame response. On the other hand John didn't have much else. He sat next to Cassidy. For some strange reason the cot didn't squeak and he was about sixty pounds heavier.

  But she wasn't listening. Instead she studied her sleeping son. “Is his chest going up and down?” she asked. Cassidy pulled herself off the cot and moved closer to the bed.

  “Yes,” John replied gently. She was a mother with a sick kid. John really needed to be more patient with her because she had a lot on her plate. “I can see the collar on his shirt moving,” he added. He hoped she would recognize that he was handling this situation differently than he would have in L.A. Even though he was digging his heels in he was being much more reasonable about it.

  Satisfied Kevin was okay, Cassidy returned to the cot and sat down again. It creaked again. “If this goes bad with Mary, can you arrest Mike Shannon and then get him to give up his supplier?” She glanced at her son again. “You must have some sort of leverage against the man.”

  John shook his head. “I don't have any evidence.” Jesus, he was feeling pretty incompetent. There was a time he was good at this stuff. “He's squeaky clean,” he added.

  “Didn't he sell to you the other night?” she asked, “because that man is not clean.”

  John was again reminded of how much he loved Cassidy's Spidey sense. He'd always been his best as a cop with her by his side. Maybe this undercover job wasn't coming together the way he wanted because he didn't have Cassidy. Was he that dependent upon her? Definitely a scary thought. What happened to the carefully crafted aloof, reserved, and indifferent personality he'd nurtured all these years?

  “No,” he replied both to his thoughts and to Cassidy's question. He wasn't emotionally dependent on Cassidy Cooper, and Mike Shannon hadn't sold to him. John put a hand on his forehead and shook hi
s head. Holy crap, he was confused.

  “You've been here for more than a year,” she told him.

  Even though she was sounding judgmental, she had a right to say it. After all, her son was sick and she was stuck in a seedy motel room with John's mess firmly planted in her lap. Jesus, he should have caught Mike Shannon's supplier long ago and he should be back in L.A. starting another job.

  Yes, he lingered at the rodeo because he was waiting for Cassidy. But that wasn't the only reason, he liked studying redemption, salvation and all that other good stuff. Not that he was very good at preaching or practicing it but he was trying.

  “You're slipping,” Cassidy remarked. She wasn't being critical, just stating the obvious. “You could always get a drug dealer to sell to you,” she commented.

  John wasn't insulted by her words. “I think it's being Pastor John.” He got up and paced across the room. “I'm a foul mouthed bastard and I can't fake good.” He stopped in front of her.

  “You're not a total bastard,” she countered. “Just an occasional prick.” She took his hand and lifted it to her lips. She kissed his battered and scared knuckles.

  That felt good. “I'm lousy at this job,” he added. He hoped, since he was still beating himself up, she would pick up his other hand and kiss it too.

  “Maybe it’s time to go back into uniform and be a plain old cop,” she suggested kissing his other hand.

  “Yeah,” he agreed, “because I certainly can’t be a minister.”

  “It may not seem like it,” she told him while holding his fingers between her palms. “Your words inspired a few people at the service last week.” She looked up at him, her eyes twinkled.

  “Really?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Cassidy replied. “Mrs. Goodwin told me that she was going to be more forgiving toward people. Not as judgmental.” Cassidy chuckled softly. “But she wanted to make it clear that she wouldn’t give up her white lies.”

  “She said that?” he replied sounding a lot happier than he should have. Along with losing his edge, he was turning into a guy that needed lots of reassuring. Jesus, he could be pathetic when he wanted. But this was good news about Mrs. Goodwin. The woman didn't have it easy with her husband sick and unable to pay his bills. John was delighted his words gave her comfort. Maybe when he got back to the rodeo he’d start a collection for her.

  Cassidy nodded.

  “You're not just playing with me?” This need for affirmation was getting a little out of hand on his part. But he couldn’t drop it.

  “Don’t you even think about it,” Mary yelled before Cassidy had a chance to answer. “I will not let you store anything in my home.”

  “God damn it,” John moaned. “I can't believe that idiot is going after her again. Can't he just rent a stupid storage unit that we can find, raid, and then arrest him?”

  “Shhh,” Cassidy scolded. Her eyes shifted toward Kevin. The damn kid was still asleep. John wondered if he was faking but Cassidy probably wouldn’t let John get close enough to find out. A good tickle to the ribs would answer that question.

  “Don’t you touch me,” Mary said pulling John's attention away from the kid.

  “We have to stop him,” Cassidy whispered. She already had her flip flops on and was looking around the room for some sort of weapon. She pulled on the leg of the chair but couldn't break it away. Then she picked up the lamp.

  “I know, I know,” John replied. Jesus H. Christ it was his moment of decision. Either he follows the path he'd chosen before and forces Cassidy out of his life again, possibly forever, or he does things differently. This time he was pretty sure Cassidy wouldn't blow his cover but she would call the police and get Mike Shannon arrested. Completely ending any chance John would have of finding the kingpin. Honestly, he didn't have any other leads at the rodeo.

  “What are you going to do?” Cassidy asked.

  “I'll arrest him,” John replied dryly. He couldn't help himself, he had to add, “You win.” But she ignored the snarky comment, another quality of Cassidy's that made her a good woman.

  John stood up and reached into his suitcase for his Glock. He took the safety off and shoved it into the back of his pants. Then he crossed the room with Cassidy on his heels. When he stopped at the door she bumped into his back.

  “You're really going to arrest him?” she asked after he turned around. She didn't believe him and she had every right.

  John decided to be honest with her. “First I'm going to try talking to them as a civilian for a few minutes while I assess the situation.” Cassidy's mouth turned down as she listened, which made him damn sad. “If Mary's not ready to press charges I'm not going to arrest the guy,” he explained logically. He wrapped his fingers around Cassidy's chin. “If I throw the guy in cuffs, it's over. My cover is blown and I'll never figure out who's behind these drugs at the rodeo.”

  “This is just like L.A.,” Cassidy countered. “And, Mike Shannon is going to know you're up to something because I already told him you weren't here.” She put her hands on her hips. “And, now you're here.”

  “No, he isn't because I'll tell him I came back,” John countered. He put a hand on her shoulder and gently nudged her to the side. “I'm going out there. I'm going to face the guy and I promise you if Mary allows me to arrest him I will put Mike Shannon in cuffs.” John glanced at Kevin on the bed. The kid was still sleeping, a steady up and down of his chest.

  “While I'm gone,” he suggested opening the door, “make sure your kid isn't sinking into a coma or something horrible like that.” As he disappeared into the shadows Cassidy gave him a well-deserved whack on the butt.

  Chapter Eleven

  “I want to go to Comic Con,” Kevin announced as he walked into the kitchen. Cassidy and John glanced at each other while Kevin opened the refrigerator. They were sitting at the farm table after arriving at Three Brothers Ranch a few hours ago. Nobody was around but being the responsible person he now was, Logan left a note taped to the door explaining he was in the fields looking for a lost calf and Rachel was at some sort of baby exercise class in Livingston.

  Cassidy already knew Caleb and Carrie were in Bozeman avoiding exposure to the chicken pox. She didn't blame them, after being born small with a cleft palate their daughter Karis was still building up her immune system. While on the other hand Rachel and Logan specifically headed home when they heard about Kevin. They wanted Storm exposed. Rachel was trying to vaccinate her baby as little as possible and would rather he got the disease than another shot. She was saving the shots for the big stuff, like mumps and measles.

  To each mother, her own.

  “Where?” John asked Kevin quietly. He looked baffled and a bit alarmed. Cassidy wasn't sure if he’d ever heard of the gigantic comic book and pop culture festival. Cops and drug dealers didn't talk about superheroes and paranormal film very often.

  Cassidy tried not to notice how appealing, vulnerable and confused were on this rugged man who’d chosen to do the right thing last night. While trying to hide a smile she returned her attention to her son. Kevin was pulling a big bowl of something from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator and Cassidy was getting ready to remind him they were guests at the ranch. Then she remembered he lived here a lot of the time. He was comfortable with the leftovers in that refrigerator.

  “It's in L.A.” Kevin said as he sat down at the end of the table, an orange Tupperware container in front of him. “Joss Wheaten is appearing,” he added as he pulled the lid off. Without hesitation, he dug a fork into the cold spaghetti. As he chewed his eyes shifted toward John as if challenging the undercover cop to ask who Joss Wheaten was. Of course John took the bait.

  “Who?” John asked. The man could handle the most manipulative abuser and psychopathic drug dealer but he couldn't outsmart a thirteen year old. Kevin was John's kryptonite.

  But who was Cassidy to criticize because that recently acquired vulnerability of John's was Cassidy's kryptonite and her loving eyes were back on him. Yes, J
ohn had gone out and faced Mike Shannon last night. But instead of letting the situation play out like he originally wanted and endangering Mary, John showed his badge and arrested the clown for domestic abuse.

  And, rather than continuing to stare at John with her gratification showing all over her face Cassidy stood up and opened a cabinet. She didn't know what she was looking for but was pleasantly surprised when she found food. Not just any old food, like potato chips and sugary cereal but healthy snacks. Nuts, kale chips, and wheat free granola bars.

  “I'm working on a story,” Kevin said looking at Cassidy, a piece of spaghetti stuck to his chin. He ignored John's question about Joss Wheaton. “I was hoping to get Joss to take a look at it.”

  Her son calling a man he didn't know by his first name was interesting, maybe even a little weird. But Cassidy decided to ignore it. Instead she pulled a bag of raw almonds off the shelf. She opened it and took a sniff. It was actually fresh. “How much does Comic Com cost?” she asked. She really didn't want to go back to L.A., even for a visit, but for her son, she would consider it.

  “The conference costs three hundred and fifty dollars,” Kevin explained, his voice going up. “But to get into a special meeting with Joss it costs one thousand more plus there is room and board.”

  Cassidy gasped. John didn't react.

  So Kevin turned his attention to John. The boy, with the expensive tastes, had tomato sauce on his chin. “But I figured you know people in L.A. we can stay with. Someone with a beach house,” he suggested. He was trying to sound clever but the effect was ruined by that red sauce all over his face.

  John didn't say anything. Cassidy didn't say anything.

  Did Kevin know about John's beach house? If so, how? Cassidy thought the only thing Kevin knew about John was that bogus sex addiction problem. Even with a pox mark on both his earlobes the kid appeared confident in what he was saying. Cassidy put the almonds down.