Song of Life

by C. L. McCullough

  “It’s your father’s estate, Cas. Duncan says you’ll be the heir.”

  She could feel him stiffen. His fingers stilled in her hair.

  “Not me, I want no part of it. No part of him. It’s dirty money, my gut tells me it’s dirty. I don’t want it, they can’t make me take it.”

  “Then you don’t want us, is that it?”

  “What the hell’re you talking about? I can’t see the connection.” His hand clenched in her hair.

  “Well, it’s obvious to me. You won’t be a couple until you ‘find yourself,’ until you find a career, and here this money just drops in your lap, and you throw it away and throw away any chance of us being together anytime soon. It’s like throwing the baby out with the bath water.”

  “The money has nothing to do with us,” Cas said furiously. “I don’t want it a part of us. It’s tainted, Sunny and I never wanted to be rich.”

  “If it’s so dirty, then clean it up,” Sunny said just as furiously. She leaned into him until they were almost nose to nose. “Don’t you look down your nose at me like that. You could do a lot of good with that money. I’m not suggesting you live high on the hog or join the jet set, for God’s sake. Build a hospital, start a charity, do some good with it. How easy it is to just wave it off, without taking responsibility. What harm would it do to take just a bit for yourself, buy an interest in the inn, since it seems to mean so much to you? Put it in a trust for the inn if it makes you feel better. How many people could you help with that money, Cas? You haven’t thought it through.”

  He sat silently, frowning, but he began to stroke her hair again. She unhooked her finger from the neckline of his top and moved down to the waistband of his jeans, struggling with the fastening. She wanted that top off him but it was tucked into his jeans so tightly. She wanted to feel the warmth of him against her skin. There wasn’t a lot of room to manipulate. She glanced down and saw with surprise that her blouse had been completely unbuttoned. While she was having her hissy fit, Cas had been quietly at work. She did like a man who could multitask.

  “You, devil, you,” she murmured, giving his shirt a hard yank. He smiled lazily, one finger tracing a nipple through her thin bra. She caught her breath. A tingling stab of sensation shot through her body and seemed to pool in her very center, leaving her throbbing with anticipation.

  “You’re distracting me,” she complained. “And you haven’t answered me.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s it? You’ll think about it? At least tell me if you think I’m making any sense.”

  “You are. What you say is completely logical. But I never claimed to be logical, and that money’s tied to a lot of emotions.”

  “You could set up a corporation or something to handle it,” she said almost desperately. “You’d never have to have anything to do with it, if you didn’t want to. Cas, don’t make us wait, it could take forever. You have time, all the time in the world, but I don’t. I have no idea if you’ve even got anything planned for your future. All I know is that I don’t have the time you do. I don’t want to wait maybe years. I want to start my life with you now.”

  His expression softened.

  She knew he didn’t want to wait either. It was nothing but male pride. If he was honest, he’d admit he felt as she did–she wanted to shout their love from the rooftops, holler ‘look what I’ve got, look at the wonderful man who loves me’. Flash a band of gold in everyone’s faces, brand him with her own band of gold. He wanted to marry her, he’d said it himself. She’d been shocked because they’d known each other for such a short time. She’d since decided it didn’t matter. She’d known Jim all her life, yet she hadn’t really known him at all. She desperately wanted Cas to understand where she was coming from. This inheritance would allow him to salvage his pride while they started their life together. He could reverse his father’s evil by using the money for good.

  “We’ll see what the lawyers say,” he compromised, nudging her blouse off one shoulder. His hands moved slowly to her back, flicking her bra open. “He may have left it all to Spain, for all I know. It’s one reason I want to talk to Raoul.”

  “Raoul?”

  “One of my father’s gofers, a deadly one. What kind of man would have killers in his employ?” he burst out. His hands at her back pulled her closer so that her breasts were crushed against his chest, which Sunny had finally gotten exposed.

  “You promise you’ll think about it then.” She kissed his chin.

  “I promise. I have to talk to Raoul though.” His lips curved up in a smile. “I’ll need to borrow the truck.”

  “I’m going with you,” she said with determination.

  “No need.”

  “There is need,” she answered sharply. “I’ve felt so helpless. I haven’t been any help at all through this. I wasn’t even able to stay with you. Please, don’t push me out. I want to come with you, to be there for you, whatever happens. We’ll do it together. We’re a team now. Neither of us has to ever be alone again.”

  “I was hoping you’d want to come,” he admitted, resting his forehead against hers. “It’ll take some getting used to, this togetherness. Both of us are used to going it alone.”

  “Practice,” she whispered. “Practice makes perfect.”

  “You’re perfect.” His mouth captured hers. “I want you,” he murmured against her lips. “God, Sunny, I’ve never wanted something so much in my life.”

  “Here I am,” she answered softly. “Yours. I’ll always be yours.”

  He bent his head and took a nipple in his mouth, flicked his tongue gently. Sunny arched into him, groaning. Abruptly he stood, cradling her in his arms. She laid her head in the curve of his shoulder as he carried her to the pink and white bedroom.

  Chapter 29

  Father Yuri sometimes regretted the size of his parish and the way his congregation was so widely scattered. He’d been deep in the mountains counseling a woman who’d lost her husband to what sounded like appendicitis. Completely preventable in these modern times, but the couple had lived in isolation, content with the income Cora’s herbs and Tim’s whittling had brought them. Tim had ignored his symptoms and by the time Cora had gotten him to the nearest hospital in Eufala, it had been too late.

  Cora had refused to leave the homestead and Father Yuri found himself chopping wood in preparation for the coming winter, putting a patch on the roof–“Tim was gonna do it,” Cora told him tearfully, “but he were waitin’ for cooler weather,”–as well as trying his best to persuade her to move somewhere, anywhere, where she could have help closer to hand.

  Cora only shook her head stubbornly. “This here is my place, it’s where I belong. If you should so desire, you come see me to ease your conscience. For sure, you’ll be seeing me in church, so long as that old car holds up. If you find I ain’t made it, don’t be too fretful. It’ll be as the Lord wants and I ain’t afraid to die. But I can’t live in no town. I was born here and here I’ll stay.”

  She’d given him one of Tim’s little statues; Tim had taken great joy in the creation of them and had placed them in various souvenir shops to sell. They’d sold well. Tim had a great sense of humor and a great talent.

  Father Yuri smiled at the one he’d been given. It could have been him. He laughed out loud. It was him. A lean, elegant ferret in a white collar and black cassock with red cowboy boots peeking out from under the skirts, one hand raised in benediction, the other fingering a huge cross on its chest. The look of benevolence on the small face, the burst of hair that surrounded it only made it more lifelike, and somehow Tim had made the almond shaped eyes laugh.

  “I’ll treasure this. It’s a real work of art,” he’d told Cora as he straddled his bike to leave. Cora nodded. “See you Sunday, Father. Drive careful.”

  It had been a shock to find out about the murder and Cas’s arrest. Although he had a perfectly good reason for being out of touch, he still felt guilty. Somehow Cas had become one of h
is ‘projects’ and he felt he should have been there for him. Thankfully any charges had been dismissed, but he still wanted to see him as well as Sunny. He wanted to see for himself that all was well with them.

  * * * *

  Martha was manning the reception desk. Her face lit up as Father Yuri approached.

  “Morning, Father.”

  “Morning, Martha. Sunny or Cas around?”

  “Cas is out in the garden again. Says he’s ready to plant. Sunny, she’s in her office. She’s been right quiet since they got back from Eufala yesterday.”

  “Something happen? There’s a problem? I just got back myself. I never knew a thing. Some priest I am.”

  “You’re the best priest there is,” Martha said loyally, “but I have to say they did just fine without you, Father, begging your pardon. Until yesterday. Cas just had to go see that henchman of his father’s. Sunny won’t talk about what happened.”

  “Has it come between them?” Father Yuri asked.

  “No...” Martha was uncertain. She sighed. “I can’t speculate, Father, I just don’t know. They’ve both been busy today, so I haven’t seen them together. But Sunny seems bothered.”

  “I’ll have a talk with her, shall I? In her office you say?”

  “Yes, Father, right down that hall, third door on the left.”

  It wasn’t right, she thought as she watched him walk away, that a priest should have such a great butt, maybe even better than Cas’s. Priests really shouldn’t be allowed out in jeans, not with butts like that. It was a temptation, a sure ’nuff temptation, but looking never hurt anyone and surely wasn’t a sin. Even if it was a priest.

  She was almost positive God would understand.

  * * * *

  Sunny was trying to concentrate, for what it was worth. Reese had given her his expense sheet for the week; she was supposed to be integrating it into the computer spread sheet, but it was difficult going. Her mind kept veering back to yesterday.

  She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about what she’d witnessed. She longed to talk it out with someone, but Cas had been unusually tight lipped and had only asked her to make an appointment with her lawyer. Then he had made love to her as if it were for the last time. Nothing she’d said had drawn him out, but this morning he’d seemed his usual self, ready to tackle the garden and any repairs needing immediate attention.

  She frowned at the computer screen. Did they really use twelve dozen eggs in a week? She checked Reese’s figures and changed the two to a four. Did they really use fourteen dozen eggs in a week? It appeared they did.

  She caught a flash of red from the corner of her eye and looked up to find Father Yuri smiling at her from the doorway. The man looked ridiculously sexy for a priest, she thought, or maybe she was just more sensitive to such things now.

  “I wanted to apologize for not being around,” Father Yuri began. “Such times as you and Cas have just been through are when priests are needed most.”

  “Come on in, Father, have a seat. We got through it. Didn’t last too long, thank God.”

  “Cas doing okay?” the priest asked casually.

  “He was. The town rallied around him, you know. But yesterday…yesterday…I don’t know what to think about yesterday, to tell you the truth.”

  “You look troubled, Sunny. If you need to talk it out…”

  “That would be nice, but I’d feel like I was going behind Cas’s back. And he won’t talk about it, at least not yet.”

  Father Yuri smiled gently. “I think I have an answer to that.” He opened his belt pouch and pulled out a long piece of silk cloth, kissed it and draped it around his neck. “Now you have the seal of the confessional. Say what you want. It’ll go no further. Let’s see if we can settle your thoughts.”

  “Thank you, Father.” Sunny reached over and saved her work, then turned off the computer which had a high, irritating hum. She looked over at Father Yuri, hesitated, and decided to plunge in.

  “Do you believe in love at first sight? Do you think it’s a real love, an enduring love?”

  “There are all kinds of love,” Father Yuri answered carefully. “Certainly a physical attraction…”

  Sunny shook her head. “I’m not talking about ‘I want to jump his bones.’ I’m talking about a recognition, for lack of a better word. A feeling of comfort, of knowing…I can’t explain it right. I remember thinking though, when I saw Cas, I know this man. It sounds silly, but we fit right from the start.”

  She fell silent, staring at her hands resting on the desk. “I didn’t know the man I saw yesterday.” She raised her head, meeting Father Yuri’s eyes. “He shocked me. I didn’t know what to think.”

  “How was he different? Did he grow horns and breathe fire? I’m sorry,” the Father added quickly. “I shouldn’t be facetious.”

  “He was fine on the trip over,” Sunny said. “A little quiet, but himself. It was after we got there. We got separated. They let me stand with the detectives. There was a one way mirror, you know what I mean?”

  Father Yuri nodded.

  “There was a skinny little man sitting at a long table in the room. He sure didn’t look very dangerous to me. His hair was longer than mine, for heaven’s sake. He had it pulled back in a ponytail. All greasy looking. He looked almost like a boy, you know how they try to grow a mustache and it just looks ridiculous? But he had bags under his eyes and a smirk on his face and I knew he wasn’t what he looked like.

  “And then Cas came in.”

  * * * *

  “Heeey mongrel, you come to see me.” Raoul’s smirk got bigger; he leaned back in his chair, and folded his arms across his chest.

  “What’s up, Ray? You’re out of a job now.”

  Raoul immediately lost his smirk. “Don’t call me Ray.”

  “Don’t call me mongrel,” Cas said, his words mild but his expression grim. He pulled out a chair and sat down across from the frowning Raoul. “They gonna keep you here, Ray? Things sure did fall apart for you, didn’t they?”

  Raoul’s scowl deepened. “Fucking rednecks. My lawyer say I be leaving soon, they can’t keep me, they just slapping my hand for shooting the gun. ‘No shooting firearms in a public place,’” he had mimicked in a high voice. “Shitheads. How you think I protect the Don, uh?”

  “But you didn’t protect him, did you? A redneck killed him dead. And Jesus. Was he planning on killing me, Ray?”

  Raoul shifted in his chair. “The Don don’t tell me his business,” he said sullenly.

  “Really. You mean you don’t know where he got all his money from? He paid you good, Ray. You used to live pretty high on the hog. I always thought it was drugs myself,” Cas threw in casually.

  “He ain’t into no drugs.”

  “Well no, you’re right, he’s not into much of anything now, is he? Except maybe hell.” Cas leaned forward, his gaze boring into Raoul’s. “Maybe I’m the Don now, you ever thought of that?” he asked softly.

  Raoul stared back at him. “You? You the Don?” He began to snicker. “I don’t think so, mongrel, I don’t think so!”

  “Let me put it this way, Ray. I’ll have the authority to go through everything–all his papers, all his bank accounts. I’ll dig out all his secrets, find all the bodies. I know there’s bodies, aren’t there, Ray? At least one, maybe more.”

  “You turned into a crazy gringo,” Raoul scoffed. “The Don was just a businessman, that’s all. Ain’t no bodies.”

  “Maybe they’ll prove you did all the killing, you and Jesus. Maybe you’ll spend the rest of your life locked up.” He pointedly looked Raoul up and down. “You’re a good size. You ought to be real popular in prison.”

  Raoul gripped the edge of the table hard. “I ain’t going to no prison. You can’t prove a damn thing. You just blowing smoke. Licking the cop’s asses. What you getting outta this, uh?”

  “I get the chance to talk to you, Ray. Alone. If he wasn’t into drugs, what was he into then? Where’d his money come from?
”

  Raoul glanced at the mirrored wall. “I ain’t no fool, I know they’re listening.”

  “So? You want to be locked up for something you said you had no part of? What was your part, Ray? I think you ran drugs for him, you and Jesus.”

  “That’s a lie. We weren’t nothing but his bodyguards. He had enemies. Look, I don’t know how he made his money, okay? You think he’d talk to us? All we got from him was orders, that’s all. He did his talking to others.”

  “Names, Ray, give me some names.”

  “I don’t know no names.” Raoul sounded sullen again.

  “I think you do,” Cas said softly. “But if you want to hang for him, you go right ahead. No skin off my ass.”

  “I mighta heard one name.” Raoul wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Fernandez–Hector Fernandez–the Don called him greedy, said something would have to be done. And that’s all I know. I swear.”

  “Don’t swear to a lie, Ray. You know more than you might think. He killed my mother.”

  “You’re crazy.” Raoul was sweating hard now. He looked toward the door and licked his lips nervously.

  “He told me, bragged about it.”

  “I don’t know nothing about that. The Don was just a businessman. You got killing on the brain.”

  Cas uncoiled like a loaded spring, lunging across the table, one big hand around Raoul’s neck, the other grabbing his hair, pulling his head back and forcing him to look into Cas’s face.

  “Mamarracho bastardo ! Where’s my mother?”

  * * * *

  “I thought he was going to kill him,” Sunny said, looking troubled.

  “Don’t you think you might be exaggerating?” Father Yuri asked. “No, wait, stop and think a minute. Did you truly think Cas would commit murder?”

  “I suppose you’re right, but I never thought he’d attack anyone like that either.”

  “Cas has been good about showing only one side of himself to you. He loves you, has no reason to ever hurt you. But he’s a man, Sunny. He can only be pushed so far. Sounds like he’d decided enough was enough and he was going to get some answers, no matter what it took. If Cas was going to kill someone, he’d have done it long ago.”