That had me thinking. Skinner was past his prime. He still worked around rodeo, but from another angle. Rayna was still in the game, but for how much longer? Bucky was getting out; he’d found a new drug in politics. And what about Galynn? She was raised in the sport, obviously, so she’d been going down the road all her life. Now, the horses were being sold, the tack room was nearly empty. Bucky was working dirty deals.
What about their sponsors? Were they having trouble with the sponsorship money, too? I wondered if Charles was learning anything from those women. Because if anyone could charm information out of women without them knowing they were offering it, it was Charles.
Chapter 14
CHARLES
Getting Rayna to open the damn door was the first task at hand. She didn’t even want to let me in her house. It made me wonder if maybe they had a meth lab inside or something. But I didn’t smell any cat piss on either of them, or when she opened the door, so I put that thought aside.
“Mimi and Cortnie left me. I guess my sense of humor was too much for them to bear. I was hoping I could come inside while I made some phone calls to get a ride. Or maybe one of you could give me a ride back into town.” I smiled my thousand watt smile.
Did I mention I looked extremely handsome in my white wife-beater with the two-tone gingham print Nautica shirt with the sleeves rolled up? Blue always makes my eyes pop. I had that unshaven look, mostly because I hadn’t shaved that morning, and I looked like I wanted to be taken back to bed. I wore white denim jeans, and suede loafers, and I didn’t really want to stand out in the wind and dirt.
“I guess you shouldn’t have pissed them off then, should you?” She wasn’t budging.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Galynn opened the door wider.
“Hey, I just needed to come inside while I call for, and then wait for a ride.” I ran my hands from my shoulders to my hips, so she could appreciate the specimen in front of her. “And I’m not exactly dressed for this venue.”
“He let Skinner drive off with my horse.” Rayna tried to shut the door.
“Mom, let’s not go there again.” She moved her away from the door. “Go get in the shower, and get ready. I’ll take care of this. Charles, is it?” She smiled like she wanted me in her bedroom. I was in.
“Yes, Galynn, I’m Charles Parks. And you have the most unique and lovely name,” I said, as I stepped inside.
I could feel the heat coming off her as I walked by. This could be easier than I expected, or it might make it difficult, since I’d be fighting her off with a stick soon. I can’t help it if I’m so attractive.
“It’s my grandmothers’ names. On my mom’s side, her name was Gay, yes, Gay, and my dad’s side was Lynn.”
“Really, so your mom’s maiden name was?” And I waited.
“Rayna Gunther. How terrible is that? And my grandma was Gay Gunther. It wasn’t so bad when she wasn't married, she was Gay Anders.” Galynn was a chatterbox when she was nervous. I’d be taking advantage of this.
“Gay Gunther isn’t bad.” Now I had the maiden names going back two generations on that side.
“And so, your dad’s mom was Lynn Anderson?” The reference to the country music singer went right over her head.
“I don’t know. She was always Granny Cox to me.” Galynn cocked her head.
I’d better not push this too much. I had to keep her interested before she started asking why I wasn’t calling for my ride.
“Lynn Anderson was a country music singer from back in the day. I was being facetious.” I looked around. “The interior of this house doesn’t look anything like I expected.” It looked exactly like I expected.
We entered through a mud room with dull white walls and simple crown molding. The floors were linoleum. A washer and dryer were nearly hidden behind the open door, and I could see a wash sink, and stacks of shelves with cleaning materials off to the side of the appliances. Just to the right was a small window, and below it were cheap hooks for hanging coats and such. There were at least a dozen different boots and shoes lining the floor under the coat hooks.
We walked through that room, straight into a galley kitchen with the cabinets and appliances all along the right side, and overlooking the stables. The kitchen windows lined the entire wall, which was cool, and let tons of light into the room, which was painted in the same dull shade of white, with saitin white cabinets. What boring taste in colors, I thought.
The countertops were overflowing with small appliances and gadgets, but the kitchen was clean. I was practically drooling over the farmhouse porcelain sink, which was a dark red, and empty. It impressed me that there were no dishes in the sink. And I was a sucker for the deep farmhouse style sink. The only bit of color, other than the sink, was the bit of silver metallic in the white Formica countertops. I guessed, from the dullness of the paint, the rooms hadn’t been updated in years.
The windows along the wall above the sink had no curtains.
“Are you getting new curtains?” I did think the lack of window covering was strange.
“No.” She leaned over the counter and looked out. “My dad always liked to be able to look toward the barn any time of day or night to see the horses, so no covers on the windows in here.
“I see.” But I didn’t.
“That way he could see who was driving up to the house, and decide if he was going to answer the door or not, but the person driving couldn’t see into the house.” Galynn laughed it off.
She didn’t seem as upset about Bucky’s death as I expected.
“I’m sorry for your loss. I guess I haven’t told you that.”
“Me too, I guess.” She leaned against the counter.
I looked through the small doorway to the dining room. “Wow.” I stepped into the dining room. “What a beautiful table.”
It was an ordinary reproduction of an antique, but she had no idea I had expensive taste. It was a nice enough table if you didn’t have the money to buy the real thing.
This was the first room that spoke anything of the life this family led.
There were rodeo action photos framed on the walls: bucking horses, barrel racing, and team roping. A couple of belt buckles were in frames, too. Strange place for buckles, but then maybe they were trophies, and you could only wear one buckle at a time.
“Are those signed?” I was talking about the photos in a stack next to the china hutch.
“Only some of them. We get a lot of requests for autographed photos for rodeo benefit dinners and stuff like that.” Galynn almost looked embarrassed. “It’s weird being a celebrity.”
I could only imagine. “So, you mean like a pro football player, a movie star, or something?”
She blushed and said, “Exactly. At the bigger rodeos, we do a publicity thing where we have a booth. People can do a meet and greet, get an autographed picture or have their picture taken with us. My mom and I do a booth together. Our sponsors pay for it.”
Ding, ding, ding. My mind was in overdrive. “Can I get one? I’d love a personalized one. I’m not really into rodeo, but I’m a collector of rare signatures. I’d say this falls into that category.”
“Sure.” She pulled a clean photo from the pile. “Would you like it personalized?”
“Just put Charles,’” I said. Then I watched as she wrote my name and hers with her left hand. “You’re a lefty?”
She grinned. “Yep, my mom always made fun of me, because she and my dad are right handed, and Skinner’s left handed. She said I did it just to be ornery.”
I raised my brows, but said nothing.
Was she strong enough to lift that pipe and whack Bucky over the head with it? It was a thick piece of pipe, but I wasn’t sure how heavy it was, as I hadn’t picked it up.
“So you were helping your dad get Mojo ready for the auction? How did you feel about that?”
“I wasn’t happy, but it was my mom’s horse. Actually, in the long run, I guess it was my dad’s horse. He made sure he had full con
trol over everything. Some people are control freaks. That was my dad. But I wanted him to sell well, so my mom could get another nice horse.”
“And you and your dad didn’t get in a fight when you were down in the chutes? And you just lost it?” And beat him to a bloody pulp?
“He was my dad, for goodness sake. How could a person kill their own parent? I wouldn’t be who I am today without the things my parents taught me. Sure, there are days I hated him, my mom, too, but never enough to kill either one of them. I love my parents more than life itself.”
“Had to ask.” She handled that better than I’d expected.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’re not the first person to think me or my mom did it. But I can assure you, many other people hated him worse than we ever did.”
I wanted to work my way further into the house, so I thought it best not to provoke her anymore until I’d seen what I wanted to see. And maybe get a few pictures.
The table I’d mentioned was a long schoolhouse table with a bench on one side and captain’s chairs on the other. A window, with floor to ceiling drapes along the far wall, let in a fair amount of light, and reflected that light off the glass of the pressed wood china cabinet. The china did appear to be authentic 1950s pattern, but I wasn’t going to open the cabinet to find out. Mixed in with the china were blue ribbons, sterling silver goblets, and serving trays. They were engraved, so they must have been trophies, too.
I looked off to the left and saw a hallway with bedrooms, or so I assumed, since I could see at least part of a bed in each. Two of the rooms were just off the dining room. I could see straight into one of them. And in front of me was a stairway leading down to another floor. I peered down that way.
“That’s the living room. We hardly ever use it. It’s kind of formal. I swear,we’re either always in here, or in our own rooms.” Galynn straightened the table runner on the dining room table.
I looked to my left again. “Your bedroom?” I stepped toward the doorway, knowing it wasn’t a bedroom.
Galynn quickly stepped toward me. “No. That’s my dad’s den. You don’t want to go in there. It’s a mess.”
“I’d love to take a look.” I leaned into the room. It was about as messy as a surgical ward before a surgery.
“Oh, well, I…”
There was a knock at the door. More like a pounding.
“Stay here, please. I’ll be right back.” She pointed her finger at me, telling me I’d better not go into Bucky’s den while she answered the door.
I didn’t even wait to hear who it was. As soon as she stepped away, I pulled out my phone and swiped it to photo mode. Who knew how long I’d have to get a look at what was in this room?
Things were neat, but someone had been going through papers. And someone had been shredding. I took a photo of the shredder, not that it’d do any good, but what the heck. Then I got a picture of the documents laid out on the desk, and of just about everything I could find in the room that looked worth taking a photo. Then I heard the voices. It was Nick and Gabe. Right before I heard them walk into the hall, I saw a key. It was a safe deposit box key.
WWCD? What would Charles do? I lifted the key, and put it in my pocket. I’d give it to Nick later, tell him I found it on the ground or something. Or I’d tell him the truth. I have no compunction against lying, but I find it hard to lie to him for some ungodly reason.
I heard him say the warrant was for something small, which gave them permission to look in nearly every nook and cranny of the house, and in every room, so they could find whatever evidence they needed. Then something about a computer.Yes! I might even get the chance to go through Bucky’s computer after all. That was, if the police department hired me for the job.
I tried to listen in, but my mind raced as to how to get into that safe deposit box. They’re a double custody item in the bank, and they required a signature to get into the room in the first place. There was no charming myself into this box. If Bucky had been a nobody at a nobody bank, it might have been possible. If his face hadn’t been plastered all over the signs.
But then, the young, entitled, twenty-something working at the bank, may not have been into local politics and didn’t care who was running for county supervisor. I could’ve walked in, said I was Bucky, forge the I.D. and gotten in. What’s the worst that could happen, I didn’t get in? It’s not like this was a small town. Maybe Bucky didn’t even go to the bank much himself. And in person, he wasn’t nearly as good looking and charming as those pictures.
“So, have you found anything to get you closer to finding my daddy’s killer?” Galynn’s voice had changed from that of a young lady to that of a little girl.
“We’re getting closer. Just ruling some things out. It’s only a matter of time,” Gabe assured her. “Today we just need to go through some of your dad’s paperwork again. And maybe get a look at some of the medications he may have been taking. Log a few more things into evidence. In case there’s a trial.”
“Absolutely. But I thought the crime scene guys took all of the photos and evidence they needed when they were here yesterday?” She sounded helpful, but unsure.
“We may need to take a few things with us this time. Can we go look in your father’s office?” Nick asked.
“Absolutely,” Galynn said.
I met them in the hallway at the same time Rayna came from her bedroom. Rayna screamed. Nick jumped. I smiled, and Galynn nearly toppled over as Gabe stepped back.
“What’s going on here?” Rayna asked.
“The detectives are here to look through Daddy’s things again.” Galynn said, like she was speaking to a slow learner.
“I’ll be in my room. Let me know if you need me for anything.” Rayna turned right back around and closed the door to her room.
“She hasn’t been feeling well since Daddy, well, you know.” Galynn looked at the carpet.
This young girl seemed tough as nails. She was holding it together while her mom was falling apart. I hadn’t seen any inkling that she’d been mourning the loss of her father.
“What are you doing here?” Nick glared at me.
“Nice to see you, too, on this lovely morning.” I responded.“Galynn, let’s go outside and talkwhile these men do their job. I still need to call for my ride.” I stepped past Nick and Gabe, nodding at Gabe and ignoring Nick as I did so.
“Galynn, would you mind? I’m taking allergy medication that makes my mouth really dry. Could I bother you for a glass of water?” Gabe asked. “And Charles, I’d like to ask you a question while Galynn gets me that water.”
I really wanted to go outside and wait. But I stood there like a good little boy awaiting my reprimand.
“Sure, I’ll be right back. Ice?” she asked.
“Just water is fine. But a glass if that’s okay, I have a thing about drinking from plastic cups.” Gabe said.
I looked at him. What?
“Why are you here?” Gabe asked, not nearly as nicely as Nick had.
“I’m waiting for my ride to come pick me up.” Sorta true.
“But why are you here in the first place?” Gabe asked.
“I’m hanging out with Galynn.” He really needed to learn to ask more specific questions.
“Cut the crap, Charles. What the hell are you doing here at all? How did you get here, and why on earth would you be hanging out with Galynn?”
Nick was better than Gabe at the question thing.
“Mimi left me here while she went to go talk to Emmet Hollister. I stayed to talk with Galynn and Rayna, just for shits and giggles, and hoping maybe one of them would give me a ride home, but then you showed up. Now I guess I’ll hang out with her until I can get a hold of Mimi to pick me up, because I don’t think they’ll want to leave you two alone in their house.”
I turned to walk away as Galynn came back with the water. Nick and Gabe walked into Bucky’s office, and I heard Gabe say, “Thanks so much, Galynn. Can you please just sit it on the desk? I’ll dri
nk it in a little bit.”
“Okay, I’ll be out on the porch with Charles, if you need anything.”
I hustled out to the porch and sat on one of the Adirondack chairs, pretending I’d been waiting. I pulled out my phone and sent Mimi a text to come and pick me up.
I wanted to be in the bedroom-slash-office with Nick and Gabe so bad I could taste it. But I thought I’d chat with Galynn a bit and see what I could find out about her relationship with her dad.
“Sorry about that. They need to go through my dad’s things and see if they can find anything that will help them with the investigation.” She plopped down in the Adirondack chair next to me.
“Did you travel with your mom and dad a lot when you were a kid? I saw quite a few pictures of you when you were young, up there on the walls.” I hoped to get her talking about herself, and reveal something about her dad.
“Are you kidding? That’s all we did was travel. My mom would get my homework assignments from my teacher in elementary school, and I’d do my work on the road. I didn’t have a real childhood. I played in the dirt at rodeos, and played hide and seek in horse trailers and horse stables at the rodeo grounds. Different towns every week, and many times several towns a week. I was driving when I was fourteen, so Mom and Dad could sleep. It was our life.” She didn’t look at me when she spoke. Instead, she looked down at the barn, at the horses sticking their heads out of the stalls.
“When I was little, I didn’t even know that what we did wasn’t normal. And when I got older, hell, it was what it was. I have it in my blood, you know? So when my dad broke his leg, and slowed down a bit, I wasn’t ready to slow down. I was just getting started.” Now she looked at me.
“When did he break his leg?” This was the first I’d heard of this.
“I don’t even know how many years it’s been now.” She thought for a few seconds. “It was right before I got my WPRA permit.”
Electile Dysfunction (Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Book 6) Page 15
