by Karen Kelley
He grimaced. “Sorry, she can’t see or hear me. Only you.”
Great. Just great. Even if she was cleared of the bank robbery charges, everyone would probably think she was crazy. She smiled at Marsha. “Oh, not you.”
“Then what?” Marsha glanced around.
“I was thinking aloud.” Raine gave a weak laugh. “I guess I was lost in thought. I just remembered I forgot to grab a gallon of milk. Don’t you hate to buy groceries, then later that night remember you forgot something?”
Marsha didn’t look convinced, but before she could come up with another lie, Marsha laughed. “I thought I was the only one who didn’t remember to jot down a list! I always say I will, but can never find the time. Well, at least you didn’t drive all the way home. You can grab a gallon after you leave here.”
“You’re right. I’ll do that.” She moved to the chair, but narrowed her eyes at Dillon. He only shrugged as if his popping in was an accident.
“I’ll be right back. Just need to get water for my basin. Can I bring you back a bottle of water?”
Raine smiled and shook her head, willing the other woman to leave.
“You look pretty,” Dillon said. “It’s about time you did something for yourself.”
She couldn’t stop the flutter of excitement that went through her, but she quickly tamped it down. She was on a mission, nothing more. “Tilly got a tip that Ethan bought the dealership,” she spoke beneath her breath and tried not to move her lips any more than she had to. She gained new respect for ventriloquists.
Her jaw ached after one sentence.
She looked at the row of hairdryers with women sitting under them, then over at Ms. Albright and her friend, who were waiting for their appointment. No one paid her any mind.
Dillon wore a confused look. “So you decided to get your nails done?”
“This is the best place to hear the latest gossip. The two women in the waiting area were talking about it when they came into the shop.”
Marsha returned carrying a heavy tub filled with water, so Raine didn’t say more. When she glanced around the room her gaze skidded to a stop. Jill was looking at her as though Raine had lost her mind. Great, just great. She pointed toward one of the speakers in the corner of the shop. “I love this song.” She wasn’t sure Jill completely bought her story, but it was the best she could do in the short amount of time. Dillon received another glare.
“This song?” Marsha asked with surprise.
Raine didn’t even know what was playing. She listened for a moment. A rap song. She hated rap. This one was particularly bad. She nodded and lied. “It has a catchy beat.”
“Not really my cup of tea, but I suppose someone likes it or the artists wouldn’t be making so much money.” She sat on a small stool in front of Raine, checked the water in the basin, then motioned for Raine to put her feet inside. While Marsha worked, Raine eavesdropped on the two women.
“No, he didn’t pay all the purchase price in cash.” Ms. Albright said. “On his salary? Just a hefty down payment. He’d have to rob a bank to buy it outright.” She laughed as she looked around the room, then started choking when her gaze met Raine’s.
Ms. Albright’s friend began to beat her on the back and Jill ran to the other room, returning a few minutes later with more bottled water. She twisted the cap off and shoved it toward Ms.
Albright, who quickly took a drink.
“I swallowed wrong,” she croaked, then cleared her throat.
“Thank you for the water, dear. I’m fine now.”
Jill nodded before returning to Barb.
Ms. Albright reacted like everyone in town. They’d already tried and convicted her. It didn’t matter that she’d lived in Randolph most of her life or that her father had protected the town on very little salary. She looked at her hands, twining her fingers together. It didn’t matter that she was an officer of the law, sworn to serve. Disappointment began to weave through her.
Remember, people are only human, Raine, Hank McCandless’s words filled her head. We all make mistakes. You will, too. Sometimes all you can do is hold your head high and make the best of a bad situation. If you’re honest and do your best, then you’ll always have that to fall back on when times get tough. Be proud of who you are.
Her father was a smart man when it came to people, except
for her mother. He turned a blind eye to all of Lucille’s flaws. But before Raine could begin to feel sorry for herself, she raised her head and met Mrs. Albright’s gaze without wavering. The other woman cleared her throat and looked away.
“She’s right. Ethan wouldn’t pay cash,” Dillon said, drawing her attention back to him. “Not for the full price.”
Raine thought about what he said. Ethan wasn’t stupid. If he paid the entire amount he would automatically become a suspect.
He could get away with a down payment. Why would he even go that far? Why not wait until she was charged with the crime?
“I wondered if that eyesore would ever sell,” Mrs. Albright’s friend commented. “The plate glass windows are so grimy they’re disgusting.”
“You haven’t seen it recently, then. The owner washed the windows squeaky clean. He had two interested buyers, so there was a little competition. Ethan won the bid.”
“How do you know all this?” Her friend regarded her with more than a little skepticism.
“Ethan came to me. He said that he trusted my business acumen. He asked if I would put in a good word with some of my connections regarding his business venture.” She sat a little straighter. “He had to explain his plans to me before I would agree, of course. There’s a reason why I’m a good businesswoman.
I probably shouldn’t say a word, though.” She nibbled her bottom lip as though she couldn’t decide.
Her friend was on the edge of her seat. “You can’t leave me hanging! I’m your very best friend and you know I won’t breathe a word.”
“You can’t tell a soul,” Mrs. Albright warned, and her friend vigorously nodded. Mrs. Albright leaned in closer, but she was a little hard of hearing so her quiet voice was still just loud enough Raine could hear. “Ethan restores old cars and pickups. He does all the work himself, but the profits have been low. He came up with this idea of making sculptures out of old vehicle parts. A few months ago he showed me pictures of the finished product. They’re very good. I was a little surprised. He is only a deputy.”
Raine frowned, but quickly cleared her expression and closed her eyes as though she was dozing in the chair.
“The poor boy almost had to scrap the whole venture. The house he’s renting finally sold. There aren’t any decent houses in town for rent which would have allowed him to continue his restoration and sculpting. A fire hazard, you know, with all the welding he has to do.”
“What happened?” her friend asked as though she couldn’t wait to hear the ending.
“He inherited some money from an uncle he didn’t know he had! It was enough he could put a down payment on the building.
Now he’ll have plenty of room. Isn’t that the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard?”
Amazing, Raine thought. How fortunate for Ethan.
“I love happy endings.” The woman clapped her hands together, then quickly looked around to make sure she hadn’t drawn attention to herself.
“Yes, I know. And the best news is that I’ve been talking to my clients up North and they’re practically salivating to buy the sculptures. Some of my clients asked about the restored automo-biles, too. Of course, I’ll get a small finder’s fee.”
“You’re so smart!”
“I know.” Mrs. Albright preened. “It’s a win-win business deal for me. Mind you, I won’t make that much, but all I had to do was make a couple of phone calls.”
“All done. What do you think?”
Raine looked at her feet and hands. Dark purple? She didn’t remember choosing the color, but Marsha was waiting for Raine to say something. “I love it.”
/> Marsha smiled.
After paying, Raine left the beauty shop. “The town is so quick to believe Grandpa and I robbed the bank, but Ethan has become Mrs. Albright’s golden boy. He has to be the one who robbed the bank.”
“We’ll find the evidence. It shouldn’t be that difficult to discover where the money came from.”
“If we don’t?”
“We will.”
“Ethan’s a good cop. He would know how to cover his tracks.”
Her spirits sank lower. She looked up and saw a long table right outside the drugstore. It was draped in a pretty red-and-white checked tablecloth and there were a dozen or so desserts displayed with white folded cards in front of each that told the name and price. The church bake sale.
Behind the table were four of the biggest gossips in town, along with three potential customers who tried to decide what they would buy. That is until they saw her coming down the street talking to thin air.
“Can my life get any worse?” She turned on Dillon. “Will you please go away and leave me alone? Your help is going to get me a life sentence!” And she didn’t care who heard her as she stormed toward her pickup. When she opened the door it almost fell off the hinges and creaked so shrilly that if it were an octave higher, the sound would have shattered windows all over town.
The townspeople would crucify her. By nightfall it would be all over town that she’d gone off the deep end. She better get used to wearing orange. There wouldn’t be beauty parlors, either. She only went for information, but getting her hair fixed and her feet massaged was better than she’d expected. She could forget about having that in her future. Gangs, that’s what they had in prison.
She would end up as some big, ugly, burly woman’s bitch.
She stepped on the running board and slid inside the cab.
Everything she loved would be gone. She turned the key and, after a couple of weak attempts, the pickup started. She should be grateful. She wasn’t. As she drove down the road, the frame vibrated like a jackhammer chipping concrete. Old Red was one of the few things she wouldn’t miss. Yeah, Dwayne fixed it, all right. She should’ve known not to let him come near her pickup.
She was grateful Dillon was out of her hair. She was better off without him. Her stomach lurched at the thought of never seeing him again. No, he meant nothing to her. A great sex partner, but nothing more. Unwanted visions crossed her mind. The way he pulled her closer to his naked body. His hands. She sucked in a trembling breath. Her body grew warm thinking about the way he touched her.
She grabbed the steering wheel in a death grip. She needed to think about something other than him. Look at how he’d screwed up her life. “Oh yeah, let’s think about how he screwed up my life,” she mumbled.
As she drove down the street she tried to think about anything but Dillon. Her gaze landed on her newly polished nails.
That was it. She would think about her nails. They were nicely shaped. Deep purple. Raine didn’t think she was the purple type.
It wasn’t working! Who the hell cared what color her nails were painted? Maybe the butch inmate who latched onto her would like them. Well, except they would be chipped by then.
Her stomach rumbled, but this time because she was hungry.
She made a split-second decision and turned in to the grocery store parking lot. She actually did need milk, and she didn’t want to face an empty house. That was a first. She usually preferred being alone.
After snagging a parking place close to the entrance, she turned the key. Old Red came to a teeth-jarring stop, then rattled and sputtered for a good thirty seconds before finally dying with a loud bang. One woman on her way inside almost got whiplash turning to see if there was some kind of natural disaster occurring behind her. A man scooped up his little boy and hurried toward his truck. Three teenage girls stopped to point and giggle.
No, she definitely wouldn’t miss the pickup. She hurried inside, grabbing a cart, except when she pulled on the handle, the whole line of carts moved. Not today, she silently prayed, then glanced up. “Never mind. I don’t want any help.”
Placing one foot on the bottom of the cart and taking a firmer grip on the handle, she pulled with all she had. The cart broke free. Victory. She swaggered down the aisle and picked up a gallon of milk. A loaf of bread was next, followed by a small jar of peanut butter. The staples of life. She still had a brand new jar of strawberry preserves at the house.
As she moved toward checkout, she passed the candy aisle.
Chocolate sounded therapeutic right then. She grabbed a giant chocolate bar, then tossed in another for good measure. That was it, nothing more, she told herself and veered down the next aisle.
Marshmallows. Great big fluffy ones. She tossed in two bags, then added a third. She might as well go for broke. She backtracked and grabbed a box of graham crackers. As she checked out, Raine was pretty sure she would regret her purchases. What the hell, tomorrow was another day. Today, she wasn’t going to regret a thing!
Chapter 21
Dillon knew this might not be a good time to approach Raine.
She was upset because people saw her carrying on a conversation when no one was with her. He doubted she would listen to reason. Not that he could blame her. Every time he tried to fix her life, he made it worse.
He glanced at the clock. She should be home by now. She was probably trying to find a way to nail Ethan. She wouldn’t want his help. He didn’t blame her.
But all the evidence pointed to the deputy. It looked as though Ethan robbed the bank. Maybe Leo helped. He didn’t act as if he had very many working brain cells, but it could be an act to throw off suspicion.
They only needed evidence. Talking to Raine about setting a trap for Ethan sounded like a good reason to see her again. Hell, he didn’t need a reason except he missed her. He closed his eyes.
“We’re going to the bar,” Hunter said. “Want to tag along?”
The sound of another voice was jarring. Dillon caught himself before he could transport, but lost his balance and fell backwards, landing with a hard whack on his ass. Damn, what was it with people knocking him down? “You had to ask when I was about to leave?”
Hunter grinned.
“It’s not funny. I think I cracked something.”
“Yeah, your ass.”
“Now you’re a comedian?”
“Have a beer with us. Chance is leaving in the morning.”
Chance never stayed long. It was as though he’d finally found what he was looking for. As had Ryder. Dillon started to tell Hunter that he had things to do, but there was something in his friend’s expression that made him pause. “Something’s wrong.”
Hunter shook his head. “No, the ranch is starting to feel deserted, that’s all. With Ryder gone, Chance leaving, and you on assignment, the place echoes.” He shook his head again. “I guess I wanted to go out like we used to do in the old days.”
“You mean when you started barroom fights?” Dillon started to laugh at his joke, but something in Hunter’s eyes said he was serious.
“The guy had it coming.” He waited, then said, “What do you say? For old times.”
When he thought about it, Dillon knew what he meant. The four of them had been together for a long time. They’d fought demons and saved lives. They answered prayers and watched each others’ backs. Hell, they were kids when they’d banded together.
Hunter never talked about his past. Once when he’d had too many beers, he mumbled something about his mother trying to save herself. It was an unspoken law between all of them they wouldn’t pry into the past but move forward into the future. Over the years they discovered small things about each other— except for Hunter. They still didn’t know a lot about him. He liked to watch Survivor, even the reruns. He had an affinity for animals.
They’d created a place years ago, before they bought the ranch and it became a haven for the strays he rescued. Other than that, he was a mystery. But he was a brother, a friend.
/>
Dillon took the hand Hunter offered and pulled himself up.
“Yeah, let’s have a beer.” He was pretty sure Raine would be okay until he returned, but he wasn’t so sure about Hunter.
Chance arrived a few minutes later. He looked from one man to the other. “Brothers,” he said and held out his hand.
Hunter grasped it. “Brothers.”
Dillon nodded and held tight to the hand his friend gave him.
It was as if to say no matter what happened in life, they would always have the bond that was forged so long ago. Dillon couldn’t help looking to his left. When he raised his eyes, he knew they all thought the same thing. There was still one missing.
It was much later that night when Dillon transported. There was an eerie silence surrounding him when he opened his eyes.
Raine’s kitchen resembled a war zone. A box was on its side with graham crackers spilling out. Marshmallows were scattered on the counter, and the wrapping from a chocolate bar was missing but the bar was intact.
Something was wrong. He wondered if Raine might be asleep, but a noise from the living room drew him in that direction. He stopped in the doorway. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She’d changed into a purple T-shirt that reached just above her knees. Her legs were curled beneath her on the sofa and she had an album open on her lap.
She turned the page. A whisper of a smile curved her mouth.
“My father was a good sheriff. He never ran an ad in the paper when election time came. He didn’t need to, since no one ran against him. They wouldn’t have stood a chance.”
Dillon wondered how she knew he was there. She looked up, met his eyes, and he saw the sheen of tears swimming in hers.
“When you’re near, I catch the scent of leather and sage,” she explained as if she knew what he’d been thinking. “It’s a clean, outdoors kind of aroma. My father taught me to be alert to changes in my surroundings. The strange thing was, he didn’t have a clue my mother cheated on him. He loved her so much he looked the other way. Then she left him anyway. But until then, he was a good sheriff.” She closed the album and leaned forward to carefully place it on the coffee table in front of her.
