Brand New Me

by Meg Benjamin

  “Maybe, but it’s a stretch.” Nando shifted to his other shoulder in the doorway. “I mean Brandenburg’s a famous name in Texas because they had part of the OK Ranch out west, that big spread on the Goodnight-Loving Trail. But just because her name was Brandenburg, that wouldn’t mean she was part of the famous Brandenburgs. And Docia Toleffson was Docia Kent before she got married, not Docia Brandenburg. Not many people would know Deirdre came from money just from the name alone.”

  “So who could figure it out?” Clem mused. “Maybe somebody who knew Texas history.”

  “Somebody could have figured she’d have to have money to be able to open her shop,” Nando said. “Maybe somebody she talked to, ordered stuff from. Maybe she told them she’d get money from her father.”

  Tom shook his head. “No. She’s made a point of not getting money from her father, and not saying she was going to. She didn’t want anyone to know about him since he walked out of her life. Besides, her biggest investment has been in the shop, and I’m her landlord.”

  “What about the paint? Cleaning supplies, stuff like that.”

  “I paid for that. She’s improving my property.”

  “She was going to buy a coffee roaster,” Clem cut in. “Those things aren’t cheap.”

  “That wouldn’t be from around here,” Nando said. “She’d have to order it from someplace like Austin, and people from outside Konigsburg probably wouldn’t know what the situation was here—that she was working as a barmaid at the Faro.”

  “Besides, I don’t think she’s ordered it yet. She hasn’t bought much of anything.” Tom felt a prickle at the back of his neck like a small electric shock. “Except…” His hands tightened into fists, almost involuntarily.

  “Except?” Nando prompted.

  “Except for three café tables and some chairs from that maniac asshole Milam Broadus.”

  Nando straightened slowly, so did Clem. “Broadus would know all about the Brandenburgs. The SOB acts like he’s got Texas history tattooed on his eyelids.”

  “But would he know Deirdre is one of those Brandenburgs?” Clem shook her head. “I mean, it’s not obvious.”

  “He might know she was Docia’s cousin. Deirdre’s used her name as a reference sometimes. Since he’s such a fanatic about Texas for Texans, he might know the family trees of people in Konigsburg. All the Texans, that is. Those of us from Outside don’t count.” Tom’s chest was suddenly so tight he had trouble drawing in a breath. He figured that pressure would ease when he had his hands around Broadus’s throat.

  “Okay, hold it.” Nando squared his shoulders, suddenly looking a lot more like a cop than he had before. “Maybe it’s Broadus and maybe it’s not. But this is the end of the investigation as far as you’re concerned. From now on it’s up to us. There’ll be more cops on this than ticks on a buck, local and Federal. You need to keep out of it, Ames.”

  Tom stared at him, his hands flexing.

  “I’m serious. Let us handle this. If you go after Broadus, I swear I’ll pick you up and throw you in a cell.”

  Tom took a breath, forcing his lungs to open. “You’re going over to Broadus’s place now?”

  “Yeah, I’m going over to Broadus’s place now. And I’ll call the chief and tell him what’s up. Stay here, Ames.”

  Clem put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Tom. She’ll be all right.”

  Tom wished to god he could believe her. He sank down into one of the kitchen chairs. “Okay. You’ll call when you find him?”

  “I’ll call.” Nando jerked his phone from his belt as he headed for the front door. He was moving quickly, but not as quickly as Tom would have liked.

  “Milam Broadus,” he growled as soon as Nando had gone, “is a dead man.”

  Clem nodded. “One way or another. Of course, Deirdre may kill him before you can get there.”

  Deirdre wasn’t sure how a kidnapping was supposed to proceed, but she was pretty sure Broadus’s way wasn’t standard. For one thing, he hadn’t tied her up or blindfolded her. Not that she wasn’t grateful, but that might not bode particularly well for her future if Seifert had anything to say about it.

  On the other hand, Broadus didn’t seem to be considering things like ending up in prison for the rest of his life with her as the star witness against him. Maybe he was counting on Stockholm Syndrome to make her a willing accomplice. Fat chance.

  He followed Seifert into the room after sunrise when he brought her a tray with a bowl of Rice Krispies and a glass of orange juice that she suspected was actually Tang. “I apologize for taking you hostage, Miss Brandenburg. It was necessary.”

  “Hostage?” Deirdre took a bite of Rice Krispies. The milk tasted like nothing she’d ever had before. She managed not to choke.

  “The thing is, we’ve had a hard time spreading the word. If real Texans knew about the Texas Secession Initiative, we’d be swamped with recruits. But the Lamestream Media won’t get the news out if it hasn’t been approved by the usurpers in Austin and Washington. Once we have the money from your father, we can get our manifesto published without their censorship. In fact, that’s part of the delivery instructions—our manifesto goes on the front page of the Dallas Morning News.”

  Deirdre licked her lips. “So you kidnapped me for publicity?”

  Broadus frowned. “We took you hostage to make sure our message gets out. That’s not ‘publicity’. That’s a public service.”

  “But aren’t you also asking my father for money?” Deirdre gave him her most guileless look, the one that usually worked on accountants whose figures were suspect.

  “We need money. Your father can give it to us. Your friend told me so. And after he understands our cause, could be he’ll join us too. The Brandenburgs have a big part in Texas history. Now’s the time for Texas patriots to join together.”

  Deirdre thought of all the Federal contracts currently being run by Brandenburg, Inc. She really doubted her father would be interested in seceding from the United States. But Broadus had said something interesting. “What friend of mine did you speak to?”

  Broadus shrugged. “Don’t know his name. Big fella. Well dressed. Looked like a football player. Saw you and Ames together and said your father would put a stop to that. You know who I mean?”

  Okay, Craig Dempsey was definitely going to be suffering grievous bodily injuries if Deirdre had anything to say about it. “That’s my friend from Dallas. He once played for the Cowboys. He might be someone you could recruit to your cause.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Broadus, then glanced at Seifert. Oops.

  Seifert clearly wasn’t up for being charmed. His beefy arms were folded across his considerable belly and he regarded her through narrowed eyes. “She oughta have a blindfold, at least,” he snarled. “So she can’t say it’s us. And you oughta tie her to that chair so she can’t get loose.”

  Broadus’s mouth became a thin line. “Seifert, we’re citizens of the Republic of Texas. We treat ladies with respect. We don’t need a blindfold or ropes.” He turned back to Deirdre. “Will you give me your word of honor not to abuse my hospitality?”

  “Of course.” She gave him a tiny smile, wishing she could cross her fingers behind her back. “Word of honor.”

  Seifert shot her a narrow look. “You believe in secession, Missy? You on our side?”

  “Oh, I’m not political at all,” she said quickly. She pushed the abominable cereal away and sipped the Tang.

  “A true lady lets her menfolk do the heavy thinking,” Broadus agreed. “Although I’ll give you some of our literature. You can read it over, and then I can explain all the things you don’t understand.”

  Deirdre nodded. “Yes, thank you—that probably would be the best way to do it.”

  “Still seems like she oughta be blindfolded,” Seifert muttered. “And tied up.”

  “Seifert, I’ve told you. We do not tie up ladies.”

  Seifert muttered something that sounded like “work in a bar”.

&nbs
p; Broadus scowled at him. “What was that?”

  “I said I don’t know no ladies that work in a bar. ’Specially not a bar like the Faro. What kind of lady serves beer to drunks?”

  Broadus turned toward her, raising an eyebrow. “He’s got a point, Miss Brandenburg. What were you doing there?”

  Think fast, Deirdre! “My father wanted me to experience…real life. Before I settled down and got married, that is. So I’d learn to appreciate money. And the working man. And how tough it can be to make a living. Before the government takes it all away in taxes.” She knew she was babbling, but she was trying to find the right buzzwords. For a moment a totally incongruous picture of Tom floated through her mind, naked from the waist up, pale golden hair glowing in the lamp light. A working man, who’d had a tough life. And now these morons are making it tougher.

  Broadus frowned. “Well, it’s a good thing your father was trying to teach you about freedom and true Americans, but why did he want you to work in a bar?”

  Deirdre shook her head quickly. “Oh he didn’t choose my job. I chose it myself. I guess I was a little…naïve. I thought it was like being a waitress.”

  Broadus gave her an indulgent smile that made her skin crawl. “Well then your daddy shouldn’t have let you go to Konigsburg by yourself. He should have come down and helped you find a job in the right kind of place. You could have worked for us, for example. We know how to treat ladies.”

  Deirdre blew out a breath. “Yes. That might have been better all around.” She put her glass back on the tray.

  Seifert picked the tray up again, watching her with cold gray eyes. “So we’re just gonna leave her here? Like this?”

  Broadus shrugged. “Yes we are. I’m going to lock the door, Miss Brandenburg. And you’re on the second floor with quite a drop to the ground. I wouldn’t try going out the window if I was you. Probably break a leg if you do. And then I’d have to tie you up, like Seifert says.” He gave her another indulgent smile.

  Deirdre suddenly felt like kicking him. She wondered how much damage her sneakers could do. If only she were wearing the high heels she wore when she worked at Brandenburg, Inc.

  Broadus nodded toward the door, and his minion carried the tray outside. He paused in the doorway, still smiling. “You take care now, Miss Brandenburg. I’ll bring you those leaflets in a little while.”

  “Yes, you do that,” Deirdre said between her teeth. She listened to the sound of the key turning in the door. There was no latch on the inside. At least Broadus had managed to think ahead that far.

  She walked to the window, noting the chamber pot under the bed and the pitcher and basin on the dresser. All the comforts of the nineteenth century home. Unfortunately, it looked like Broadus was being accurate. The ground was a good twenty feet away and the bed had only a single thin wool blanket—not nearly enough for an effective escape ladder.

  She gritted her teeth, folding her arms across her chest. At least in a battle of wits, she clearly had the edge over those two doofuses. Now if she could only figure out how to use it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Waiting for Nando’s call made Tom’s shoulders itch. He sent Clem home, over her protests, then sat alone at the bar, nursing a bottle of Shiner. It occurred to him that he’d been doing exactly the same thing the night before, only he’d also been watching Deirdre sweep up glass. And then, like a moron, he’d refused to stay with her.

  He wanted a do-over. Hell, he wanted a do-over for the whole week.

  Ham Linklatter, the dumbest of the Konigsburg cops, arrived at some point to examine the yard. He took away several plastic evidence bags full of stuff Tom was reasonably sure had nothing to do with Deirdre or her kidnapper.

  He stepped outside to watch the sun inch up over the horizon, casting Main in pale light. Then he went back to his seat and dozed for maybe an hour, before giving up and dialing Nando’s number.

  “What?” he snapped after five rings.

  “Did you find her?”

  “No. Broadus’s store is locked up tight. No sign of anybody around.”

  “What about his house?”

  “He lives over his store. Nobody’s home.”

  “But…”

  “Look, Broadus is still up there on the suspect list. So is Dempsey. We’re also checking for outsiders, maybe from Houston. Anybody suspicious. The Feds are trying to locate her father. If anything else happens, I’ll let you know.”

  The sound of the disconnect in his ear was like a pistol shot. Tom stared down at the phone, ordering himself not to throw it against the wall. After a short period of deep breathing and extreme obscenities, he headed into the kitchen to see if Clem had any coffee lying around.

  Coffee. If Deirdre opened her shop, they’d have good coffee around all day. When Deirdre opened her shop…

  Goddamn son of a bitch. He poured coffee grounds into a filter, then put in water and turned the pot on. As he headed back to the main room, he heard the front door open as Chico walked in. At least he wasn’t limping. Much.

  “Why the fuck didn’t you call me?” he growled.

  Tom decided not to pretend he didn’t know what he was talking about. Chico didn’t look like he’d appreciate it. “Nothing you could do. Nothing any of us can do. Broadus has taken off and nobody knows where he is.”

  “You sure it’s Broadus who’s got her?”

  Tom nodded slowly. “I am. Nando isn’t. Or anyway, he says he isn’t. But I’ve got a gut feeling about this. It’s definitely Broadus.”

  “So let’s go get the asshole.”

  “If I knew where he was, I would. Nando said the cops raided his store and the place where he lives upstairs, but he wasn’t there.”

  Chico shrugged. “So-and-so must have some place around here to meet with that bunch of crackers he hangs out with. Find out where it is.”

  “You know any of them?”

  Chico frowned. Tom didn’t figure he and Broadus’s friends hung out together, judging from Broadus’s oft-stated intention to send anybody with a Mexican-sounding name back to Mexico, whether or not they came from there. “We could check out the Dew Drop or the Silver Spur, see if anybody knows Broadus’s friends.”

  Tom shook his head. “We wouldn’t exactly be welcome in either place. And I don’t figure they’d talk to us. Plus they’d probably just turn us in to Nando.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, frowning. He and Chico wouldn’t be welcome, but that didn’t go for other people. He flipped open his phone and dialed.

  Docia picked up on the second ring. “Tom. Have you heard from her?”

  He closed his eyes. “No. Not yet. Look I need your help. Well, maybe more like Cal’s help. Or Lars. If they can do it without letting the chief know, and maybe not the county attorney either.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Okay, you’ve got my attention. What are you planning?”

  Tom laid out the case against Broadus quickly, managing not to use too many obscenities as he did. On the other hand, Docia didn’t seem to be much upset about an obscenity or three.

  “Holy shit! That asshole Broadus is behind this? I’ll skin him alive when I find him.”

  “You’ll have to get in line,” Tom said dryly. “And we have to find him first. Could Cal and Lars ask around in the Dew Drop and the Silver Spur? And maybe some of the other places around town? See if they can find out who Broadus hangs out with? If we know who his buddies are, maybe they can tell us where their secret clubhouse is.” With the right persuasion, of course, which he and Chico would be pleased to provide.

  Docia sighed. “The brothers may not want to do it if it means not telling Erik or Pete, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it myself. And I know some people who’ll help and who won’t tell Pete or Erik. He’s a great chief of police, but he’d want us to butt out.”

  “Yeah, I got that impression.” Tom rubbed his eyes. “Thanks Docia.”

  “No problem. Just make sure you keep in touch.”<
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  “You too.”

  “So?” Chico narrowed his eyes.

  “They’ll work on it.”

  Clem pushed the front door open so hard that it almost crashed back against the wall. “Anything?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Shit.”

  “Why are you here, Clemencia? There’s nothing you can do.”

  Clem put her hands on her hips. “Yes there is. I can make lunch. If we could open last night, we can open for lunch today. Particularly if the guy shows up to fix the window.”

  Tom gazed around the room. He’d almost forgotten about opening the Faro and cleaning up after the riot. Other things were suddenly more important.

  “We can’t just stop because of this, Tom,” she said gently. “Let’s get the place fixed up and running before she comes back.”

  After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

  The glass repairman showed up an hour later and spent the rest of the morning reinstalling the front window. The air conditioning had to be turned off, but the light made things inside more pleasant. Bobby Sue and Leon shuffled in an hour or so after Clem, then had several whispered consultations with Chico. Tom figured they were getting the news about Deirdre. Bobby Sue looked shocked, or as shocked as someone who was normally expressionless could look. Leon just went back to sweeping.

  The lunch crowd was small, but at least they had one. Tom took up the slack for Deirdre, serving iced tea and coffee along with the occasional beer, and bringing Bobby Sue’s orders out from the kitchen.

  Around one thirty, the door opened and Tom watched three striking women walk into his bar—a statuesque redhead, a slender blonde with hair like tarnished gold, and a pixyish brunette. Docia and her sisters-in-law, Jess and Janie Toleffson. None of them were smiling. Tom did a mental head slap. These were the people Docia had used to try to trace Broadus?

  Docia shook her head. “Don’t worry. We didn’t tell the guys what we were doing. We didn’t even tell Morgan since she might have divided loyalties on this one. They’ll all find out, of course, but by then we’ll have found her. Knock wood.” She rapped her knuckles on the bar.