“No.” And because this could go on and on, he stood, took her by the arm and led her to the door. “I won’t be there and don’t set me up again.”
April was still arguing with him when he opened the door. “Bye,” he told her and kissed her cheek before he motioned for Arlo to come in. “Reena, can you make sure my sister gets out okay?”
It was a nicer way of saying don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out. His sister shot him a glare, but she did leave. One down, three to go.
He brought in Arlo next, and once they were alone, the man didn’t waste any time taking a note and a cell phone from his pocket. “I found those on my truck seat this morning.” He unfolded the note, dropped it and the phone on Clay’s desk.
Clay read aloud from the note:
“You have to help me for old time’s sake. Call me tonight on this phone.”
There was no signature, but Clay figured this had to be from Billy Lee. Well, unless Arlo was having an affair—no, Billy Lee was pretty much the only option here.
“He didn’t say what time,” Arlo went on, “but I was thinking about doing it around six. Anything special I should say?”
“You won’t be making that call alone. You’ll wait here for FBI Agent Mike Freeman to arrive, and then he’ll tell you exactly what to do.” Clay pressed his intercom and asked Reena to come in. The deputy practically came running. “I need you to put Arlo in an interview room.”
“Uh, did Arlo break the law or something?” Reena asked.
“No. But someone’s maybe stolen some stuff from the gas station. A ring of thieves that the FBI’s investigating. An agent will be here soon to talk to him about it.” Yes, it was a lie, but it was one of those necessary ones, since Reena and everybody else who worked for him had trouble keeping secrets.
Reena nodded, led a grumbling Arlo away, and Clay made a quick call to Agent Freeman to ask him to get down there ASAP. Once the agent arrived, he’d turn both the phone and the note over to him. For now, Clay put the items in an evidence bag. Arlo had probably already compromised any prints, fibers or trace, and the phone was almost certainly a prepaid burner cell, but the FBI crime lab might find something they could use.
“Next,” Clay called out when he was finished bagging. He put the bag in his drawer so that it wouldn’t get the attention of his other two visitors.
He was a little surprised when Mila came in and not her mother. “We played rock, paper, scissors, and Mom lost,” Mila explained.
Apparently, Vita’s fortune-telling skills didn’t extend to hand games.
“I don’t have much time because I have to get back to the store,” Mila said right off, “but I’m worried about Sophie. What did you do to her?”
Clay wasn’t sure about the best way to handle this so he went with an old cop’s tactic of answering a question with a question. “What did Sophie tell you I did to her?”
“Nothing. That’s just it. She usually tells me what’s going on in her head, and this time she didn’t.”
As long as Sophie didn’t discuss what had gone on with that phone message, that was all right. And it was best if she hadn’t mentioned Clay having his hands in her pants, either.
“I’m worried,” Mila repeated. “She’s moping around the way she did after the Brantley fiasco, and she won’t talk about it.”
Hell. Clay hadn’t thought he could feel any shittier, but apparently he could. He’d known right from the get-go that it wasn’t a good idea to start up anything with Sophie, and this was proof of it.
Mila huffed. “I guess you’re not going to talk about it, either,” Mila went on. “But Reena says you’ve been moping, too, and in a really pissy mood.”
Clay would have loved to deny that, but it was true. However, he would have a chat with Reena about discussing her boss’s state of mind with anyone else.
“I only want what’s the best for Sophie,” Clay said, just to be saying something. But that was true, too.
Another huff from Mila, who stared and then huffed some more. “All right. So, that’s how it is. At least call her and wish her a happy life or something. Maybe then she’ll give the dating sites a real shot.”
Yes, maybe she would. And that twisted at him in a different sort of way. He wanted Sophie happy. She deserved it after everything she’d been through. Too bad that happiness would have to be with another man who would almost certainly put his hands in her pants.
“I’ll call her,” Clay finally said. That was possibly a lie, but there was nothing he could tell Mila that was going to make her worry less. And besides, he wanted her out of his office so he could finish with Vita and then have some time to think.
Or maybe he’d just have some whiskey.
Over the past two years, he’d discovered that thinking was highly overrated.
“Let me know how the call goes.” Mila headed for the door, but she paused long enough to give him a warning. “Hurt her the way Brantley did, and I’ll have a hundred feral chickens delivered to your doorstep.”
As threats went, it was effective, and considering the source, it might not be just a mere threat.
Speaking of Vita, she came in next but not before giving her daughter a long, lingering look. “It’s a stupid game. I could just smash a piece of paper with a rock. Ain’t that right, Chief?”
Clay wisely stayed out of that. “I don’t want another egg,” Clay told the woman right off. “And no Mighty Lube, either.”
“Both worked,” she said as if it were gospel. “But no, today I’m here about Sophie.”
“Your daughter just lectured me about her.” Heck, his sister had, too, but in a different kind of way, by trying to set him up on a date.
“Well, this isn’t a lecture. More like a warning.”
If Vita put a curse on him, Clay was in an ornery enough mood to arrest her. But no curse. Not a verbal one, anyway. Instead Vita took something from her pocket, put it on his desk.
Clay tried not to choke on his own breath, but he would have given up a kidney for one of those the previous week.
Because Vita’s offerings were three foil-wrapped condoms.
* * *
SOPHIE THREW OPEN the front door, expecting either Mila or Lawson to be on the other side. But it was Vita. And condoms. Three of them. That’s what was in Vita’s hand.
A hand she extended to Sophie.
“Uh, is this a curse or something?” Sophie asked.
“Who’s at the door?” her mother called out, and she was no longer in the kitchen. Judging from the sound of her footsteps, she was approaching the foyer.
“It’s me,” Vita answered. “I’m just here to give Sophie something she needs for the chief.”
“What is it?” Her mother was moving in even closer.
“Uh thanks, Vita,” Sophie whispered, “but it’s too late. I don’t need them anymore.”
“Suit yourself,” Vita said on a shrug, and walked away.
Sophie clearly hadn’t whispered softly enough and she hadn’t closed the door fast enough because her mother had no doubt seen and heard everything. The bleached-out color on her face confirmed that.
“Is there something you want to tell me, Sophie?” her mother asked.
Easy answer. “No.” She fluttered her fingers toward the living room. “I was just going to tidy up before lunch.”
The house was spotless, thanks to Alice, but it was the only thing Sophie could come up with off the cuff. Too bad it sucked. Her mother was suspicious, and that was never a good thing.
Her mother stared at her awhile longer and then thankfully turned and went back to the kitchen. Maybe there was a sudden scent of burning bread in the air. Thank God for mistimed baked goods.
“Turkey, peas and Sheez Louise,” Sophie heard Garrett mumble when he walked
past her in the foyer.
Her brother didn’t need to explain himself because Sophie knew what it meant. It was a phrase her father used to say for family gatherings. Louise was his late mother, and prime gossip fodder for Belle.
Of course, Belle didn’t limit her gossip to her now-late mother-in-law. Nope. And on this Thanksgiving Day, she was already in prime form. In Sophie’s short ventures into the kitchen, she’d heard Belle diss Meredith, Roman, April, Reena, two of the ranch hands, the cashier at the grocery store.
And Clay.
Her mother didn’t know what had gone on between Clay and Sophie. No one did. Heck, even Sophie wasn’t sure what’d happened, but there was no way she could forget the word she’d heard on that phone message.
Killer.
That had been bad enough, but Clay’s reaction was what had crushed her. It was a reminder that she shouldn’t have allowed herself to be placed in a position of being crushed. And here she’d allowed it only seven months after the last crushing.
That made her an idiot.
Her mother hadn’t dissed Clay because she’d connected him to Sophie’s bad mood. Nope. It was because she’d seen him in town and thought he needed a haircut. Considering Belle had used the same tone as she’d done with Meredith’s sex-capade, it was obvious her mother didn’t mind heaping the trivial junk with the life-changing.
Sophie finished setting the table for dinner. In addition to herself, there was one for her mother’s friend and gossip buddy, Mary Lynn, Belle, Garrett, Mila, Roman, Tate, Lawson and his current girlfriend, Ava. Sophie would bet her favorite mare, Moonlight, that Roman and Tate wouldn’t be there, but it didn’t seem right not to include them even if that inclusion was only in the form of dinnerware.
She made her way back to the kitchen to see if there was anything else she could do to help, and she immediately spotted the source of the burned smell. It was actually the cinnamon rolls, her favorite, but now they looked like miniature cow patties.
Sophie also got another serving of turkey, peas and Sheez Louise.
“Vita had no right to come here today,” Belle said. “Especially no right to come here with voodoo stuff. It was voodoo, wasn’t it, Sophie?”
Even though that particular smell wasn’t in the kitchen, this was a fishing expedition, and Sophie wasn’t biting. She went with a lie instead. “Foil-wrapped chocolate. It was sweet of her to bring it by, but we already had enough dessert on the menu.”
Minus cinnamon rolls, of course.
Her mother clearly wasn’t buying that chocolate lie, which meant she’d bring it up again. And again. And again. For now, though, Belle moved on to a different again.
“Roman should have at least allowed Tate to come.” Belle was taste testing, but she could still talk with a mouthful of stuffing. That whine was directed at Sophie since Mary Lynn had the mixer going to finish up the mashed potatoes.
“Tate didn’t want to come,” Sophie let her know.
That caused her mother to snap her head toward her. Alice, who had apparently tuned out the world while she basted the turkey, didn’t even glance at her. No way could Mary Lynn hear over the mixer.
“How do you know that?” her mother asked. “I tried calling over there this morning, but no one answered.”
Sophie could have been mean and said she’d spoken to both her brother and nephew that morning, that they hadn’t ignored her call, but that would only spark another round of Roman bashing so Sophie just shrugged.
“They’re going to one of those all-you-can-eat buffet places. Tate sounded excited about it.”
A total lie. Her nephew was about as overjoyed as a steer’s rump on a red-hot branding iron. Bringing that up, though, would only be gossip fodder, and Roman would get the blame for his son’s unhappiness.
“Alice, you need any help?” Sophie asked before her mother could continue.
Alice came out of her hear-nothing trance to answer. “Nope. I’m fine. You can tell Garrett we’ll be ready to eat when Mila, Lawson and Ava get here.”
“Where are they, anyway?” Belle complained. “They should have been here by now.”
Not really. It was twelve thirty, and Belle’s invitation had been for one. Since Lawson and Mila were both smart people, they would have wanted to minimize their turkey, peas and Louise time by not showing up too early.
She made her way through the house and found Garrett exactly where she expected him to be. His office.
“No booze?” she asked right off. Because she’d also expected to find a shot glass in his hand. Instead, he was drinking water and reading the latest financial report she’d sent him that morning.
“I considered it, but I thought I might try a Thanksgiving meal with a clear head.”
That could be a mistake, but maybe he was worried that he’d been drinking too much. Working too much, as well. He was doing both, but Garrett wasn’t someone who needed to be policed about his life. He was already too hard on himself.
“The ranch is doing well,” she said, tipping her head to the report. “I’ll interview those new hands you want to hire next week. And I talked to Logan McCord about the new cattle shipment.”
He mumbled a thanks, made a sound of agreement. “You sent Roman a copy of this?”
She nodded. Even though Roman wouldn’t read it, Sophie sent him anything that had to do with the ranch. “Roman’s not impressed that you’re making him a ton of money.”
Garrett made another sound of agreement. “We’re making him a ton of money,” he corrected. “You’re handling all this stuff so I can focus on the hands-on part.”
Yes, it had worked out nicely that way, but Sophie was always waiting for the other boot to fall. The FBI hadn’t found Billy Lee or anything that indicated Garrett and she were involved in Billy Lee’s scheme, but it felt as if there was something bad in the air.
Maybe that was just the scent of the Brussels sprouts and burned cinnamon rolls, though.
“Roman made an appointment with another lawyer to see if Dad’s will can be broken so he can give us the ranch,” Garrett added.
“Yes, he mentioned that when we talked. Roman also asked how you were handling not being the CEO of Granger Western.” She paused. “How are you handling it?”
“Better than you are. I’m okay with it. That job should have been yours years ago.”
She’d figured that’s how Garrett felt, but it was good to hear it aloud.
“And how are you handling everything else?” she asked.
He chugged some of the water as if it were a beer. And frowned. “People are smiling at me and saying nice things.”
“The bastards,” she joked. But she knew how he felt because she had been through months of it herself. “Folks will get over it soon enough.”
Possibly. She was still getting poor-pitiful-Sophie looks from some people in town. Heck, from some people in her own house. Her mother and Alice were guilty of that.
“How about you?” Garrett asked. “How are you doing?”
She doubted he’d missed her mopey moods. Or the gossip that had no doubt gone along with them.
“You’re asking me about Clay,” she said, filling in the blanks.
He nodded. “It’s my brotherly duty to remind you that anything you might be doing with the chief could be a rebound reaction and could therefore get you hurt.”
“Rebound reaction, huh?” It was too late to avoid the hurt because that’d already happened.
“Well, I was going to say rebound fuck, but I know you don’t like it when I say the f-word.”
“Only because when Mom would hear it, she’d start lecturing you about potty mouth, and she’d include me in the lecture. But no, there’s no f-word involvement for Clay and me. No rebound, either, because I no longer feel much of anything for Brantley.�
��
He stayed quiet a moment as if deciding whether that was true or not.
“I just want to get on with my life,” she added.
“So I gathered. I just got a little concerned when I heard Mila went to chat with Clay. I figured you had to be upset or something for her to do that.”
“Mila went to see Clay?” This was the first Sophie was hearing about it.
“Yeah, about a week ago. I heard it from one of the ranch hands who heard it from Reena. She said Clay got a lot of visitors that day. April, Vita, Arlo and an FBI agent.”
Heck, where were the gossips when you needed them? She’d get Mila’s scoop soon enough, but for now she wanted to hear more about that last visitor. “An FBI agent? Was he there because of Billy Lee?”
“According to Reena, no, the agent was there to investigate some missing items at Arlo’s place. But remember I was getting it secondhand so who knows. I figure if it has to do with Billy Lee, then Clay will let one of us know.”
Maybe. But Clay wasn’t exactly being chatty these days.
“Are you and Clay...on good terms?” Garrett asked a moment later.
Sophie felt her stomach do a little flip-flop. “What have you heard?”
“Nothing that should make that kind of fire in your eyes. I was asking from a business perspective.”
Sophie was about to assure him that Clay and business had no perspective, but it came to her. “His land.”
Garrett nodded. “I know he doesn’t want to sell, but once we buy Hermie Winters’s land, Clay’s acreage is just on the other side. Then, we could maybe pay Clay to use his back pasture. He’s not using it now, and it might take years for him to expand his business. In fact, that won’t happen unless he gives up on being the permanent chief and raises horses full-time.”
Sophie understood almost all of that. All but the last part. “You think Clay will quit being a cop?”
Garrett shrugged. “The city council still hasn’t offered him a permanent position. You know how standoffish they are about newcomers. And as for whether or not he’ll quit, there are times when he doesn’t seem to enjoy being a cop.”
Those Texas Nights Page 16
