by Jackie Anton
“You think that David Decker is sending me those messages?”
“It is probable, Lexie. Forward them to me, and I will see what we can do. Could be the police would be able to make a connection or track the computer.”
“Booker, do you think he would come here?”
“I doubt it. He is just trying to spook you. He blames you for disrupting his plans. He can’t reach Melinda, so he is focusing on you.”
The next few messages were more graphic in detail, as he laid out his plans for when he got his hands on her. Okay, now she was spooked! Lexie signed up for more martial arts sessions. She was rusty and out of shape. The lessons boosted her confidence and her strength. She doubted that she was strong enough to take on someone like Booker, but she could defend herself against David if it became necessary. She had begun to jog part of her evening outings with Skip. None of her physical workouts, or the addition of CPA online classes, or her temp job kept the nightmares at bay.
Once again in her dreams, she was transported back to the drought-stricken place that she had recently escaped. When David’s menacing countenance wasn’t disrupting her sleep, it was the image of a tall, dark cowboy on a coal-black horse. He was searching for a stray, and it looked like he had picked up the trail. She shivered and pulled the quilt tighter around her.
Mom was prodding her about her lack of sleep. Lexie figured she must have called out in the grips of one of her nightmares. Maybe it was just the late night baking sprees when she couldn’t sleep, or didn’t want to, that set her mother on the forty-question routine. Lexie couldn’t tell her much. Booker had warned her to keep the Decker thing under wraps until he could get a handle on it.
“The last thing that we need is for Melinda to get wind of this, and think that Decker is still a threat to her.”
Lexie agreed with Booker’s assessment, so she kept silent about what was tormenting her sleep.
As much as she loved her mom and grandmother, neither of them could keep a secret. Lexie wondered if that trait had come her way from the father that she never got to know.
12
Benson thought that Lexie had the right idea; it was time to get out of Lubbock. Nearly two weeks had gone by, and nada from the lab results on the impounded medications. Melinda seemed more like her old self, but still had bouts of severe depression. It was time to take her home. He made arrangements to have her transferred to a facility near home. Decker might have escaped the clutches of the law, but retribution for what he had put his daughter through was already in the works.
Meanwhile, Cutter had struck out in his efforts to track down Lexie. Not one of the rental car agencies had a record of her or someone of her description renting a vehicle. Reluctantly he contacted Patrick Boyd, and while the lawman wasn’t as cooperative as he had hoped, Cutter was able to find out that Lexie had flown home. His myriad of questions went unanswered behind the guise of an ongoing investigation. He was stymied for the moment, but was hopeful that the Williams boys could shed some light on his elusive prey. Her destination was obvious, and her employment records listed her address, but it was the feel for her history and how it shaped her eclectic personality that he was interested in.
The hay delivery went off without a hitch, and the quality of the hay was even better than he’d hoped for. No wonder Lexie had wondered about his intelligence, considering the outrageous price of the last load. The hay dealers knew they had the upper hand. The longer the drought lasted, the worse it was going to get. Pay the price or let your stock starve. Cutter hashed out a deal with Williams to buy as much hay as he could supply. Consequently, he had to put finding his missing bookkeeper on hold while he and a handful of his crew got to work on a new hay storage building.
Cutter’s neighbor at the Lazy K was bemoaning the loss of his golden goose. Melinda’s father had spirited her directly home from the secure psychiatric facility, effectively putting her out of his reach. Funds from the insurance settlement for her Caddy had bought him some time, but not much. His gambling debts were likely to have the buzzards picking his bones sooner than later. At present, his best option, it appeared, was to lay low while he figured out what assets he had left that would generate cash.
The universe continued to crap on him. Now the local media wanted comments on the story that appeared on one of the national TV news broadcasts featuring the starvation and loss of cattle due to the prolonged Texas drought. Featured were graphic photos taken at the Lazy K during a police investigation into the disappearance of an Ohio woman. David hadn’t a clue what the reporters were ranting about. He searched the news archives on his newly acquired laptop. It had galled him that he had to buy the pricey item so that he could have an internet connection, but the sheriff’s people had confiscated his PC, so he didn’t have much choice. He only used Melinda’s laptop to put a scare in to Lexie Butt-in-ski, and would have to dispose of it soon.
The news footage had turned his stomach, and a sudden cramping sensation in his midsection sent him to the can. How in the hell am I going to maintain a low profile with my home splattered all over the TV? He speculated on where the media had obtained the material they used for their story. Did Boyd release those photos, or was this attack coming from Melinda’s well-heeled father? Whichever, it is the result of that blond bitch’s interference.
The end of July saw record temperatures, with no signs of relief. More carcasses decorated the Lazy K, and David—hiding out from the media, and from a loan shark he’d been forced to use—had crawled into a bottle of cheap whiskey. Then fate finally took a positive turn, and his fortunes suddenly underwent a reversal. An impressive offer came in on the place from an out-of-state conglomerate. The gray haired, slightly bald real estate agent suggested he grab the offer. The guy was as old as dirt, and his faded blue eyes felt like they were peeling away all David’s secrets when he said, “Look, Mr. Decker, only an out-of-town buyer would make an offer on this place.”
David wanted to make a counter-offer, but caved in when it was made clear by the buyer’s attorney that this was a one-time offer, take it or leave it. The agent reiterated that there wasn’t a soul in this part of the country that would be interested in Lazy K. Reluctantly, he signed the contract, after the old man picked the scab of a slowly healing wound. “In addition to the condition of the property, all the bad press is bound to limit the small pool of buyers, and significantly lower the value even more.” Though the broker with the dubious title of Honest Hal claimed to have the ranch owner’s best interest at heart, David wondered if it was his interest or the new owner’s that old Hal was looking out for. At this point in his life, it didn’t matter; he needed the money. David had paid his debts to the loan shark, packed what he deemed of value, and moved to Miami before the end of August.
Old Pete knew that the Decker whelp was gone for good, leaving him to scrounge what he could for himself and the few remaining horses in his care. He swallowed his considerable pride and climbed in his old pink, once bright red, Ford pickup. After a lot of grinding and sputtering, the old engine fired to life, backfired a few times and roared away in what resembled a minor haboob.
Cutter and Sam kept a close eye on the growing cloud of dust making its way toward them long before the sound of the muffler-less old beater announced its approach. Old Pete from the neighboring outfit to the east alighted from the ancient truck. Cutter remembered Pete from the days when Sophie ran the Lazy K. The once slim fit man now looked like an old scarecrow. He wondered how long it had been since Pete had last seen a decent meal, or had a bath. At one time, Pete could have stood eye-to-eye with him, easily matching his six foot four. Now the old cowpuncher was bent and stooped from a hard life, as well as from advancing age, and he didn’t quite reach the younger man's chin.
Cutter invited the old hand to lunch, and Pete’s cataract-shaded brown eyes were close to tears. Not since Miz Sophie died had anyone invited him for a meal. Over lunch, Pete explained his dilemma. “Don’t know when the new owners might sh
ow up, or if they even will. Ain’t been paid regular for nearly a year. I be the only hand left. Cow bones the only things growin’ on the place, and mah poor remainin’ hosses are starvin’, but I cain’t bring mahself to shoot ’em. I know things are tight everywhere, but if you could see your way to front me some hay fir mah hosses’, I ‘d work fir you fir free."
Cutter and Jim loaded one of the ranch pickups immediately following lunch, and followed Pete back to the Lazy K. The bags of bones that once had been three good cowponies made Cutter want to get his hands around Sophie’s no-good grandson’s neck. “You have any water left, Pete?”
“Not much, rain barrels are close to dry.”
So Pete and the scarecrow horses joined the crew at the Rocking R.
Cutter assigned light duties around the horse barns to Pete as Sam had suggested.
The new hay barn already had several loads of what Lexie had dubbed good horse hay. Sam and Jim were capable of handling the ranch in his absence. Nearly two months after her defection, Cutter went to locate his stray bookkeeper.
13
September brought a few cooler days and spits of rain to remind Lexie that fall and winter were just around the corner. It also brought Cutter Ross to Ohio. Cutter parked his rental in the drive next to the modest home with the light gray vinyl siding accented with maroon shutters, trim, and asphalt shingles. He took note of all the green shrubs, and the abundance of colorful mums that surrounded the house as he made his way up the walk and front steps. He took a fortifying deep breath before knocking on the door. A gray-haired, grandmotherly version of Lexie answered his knock, and Cutter introduced himself.
“Hello, Mr. Ross! Lexie will be home shortly; she is out with Skip. Please come in. I am Jane O’Rourke, Lexie’s grandmother.”
He wondered if she was a black belt too, given that she wasn’t the least bit concerned about inviting a stranger in and serving him coffee and apple pie. As if she could read his thoughts, she set his mind at rest about strangers just walking in. “I don’t usually let people I don’t know sit at my kitchen table, but Lexie has told us so much about you, and described you in such detail, I feel like we already know you.”
“Did she tell you what a jerk I am?”
“No. She must have left that part out. She just said she straightened out your books, and left when the job was completed.”
Before he could pursue the conversation any further, the biggest German Shepherd he’d ever seen bounded up the steps from the small landing that lead to the back entrance just off the kitchen. The huge dog skidded to a halt, braced his legs, and with his hair standing on end, curled up his lip to show off his razor-sharp pearly whites.
“At ease, Skip. Sitz hin! He is a friend, I think.”
Skip sat at Cutter’s lost bookkeeper’s command, but kept a wary eye on the stranger at the table. God, she was a sight for sore eyes. He suddenly realized that he had not met the real Alexandra Parker. She eyed him with almost as much distrust as her dog was displaying before asking, “Are you lost, cowboy?”
“Yes ma’am, I was hoping you could route me in the right direction.”
She looked him over skeptically. “Come off it, Cutter. What are you really doing here?”
Skip was on his feet and growling. He picked up on the hostility in his mistress’s voice. Again she calmed her threatening dog, speaking what sounded suspiciously like a German dialect, while she fixed a glass of tea. Then she sat down with her grandma and her unexpected guest. Ready to get to the bottom of Cutter’s motivation to grace them with his presence, her thought process was derailed when Skip hightailed it to the front door. “I guess that means Mom’s home.”
The dog was hopping up and down like a huge wind-up toy. He didn’t stop until the auburn-haired, green-eyed beauty who had just entered the living room greeted him, in the same language her daughter had just used to command him, and patted his huge head. Much to Cutter’s amazement, Lexie’s mother couldn’t even be twenty years older than her daughter. Cutter was beginning to appreciate the big dog in this household of pint-sized women.
Lexie was about to make introductions when her exuberant mother did the honors herself. “Well, I’ll be damned! Cutter Ross, Right? I’m Eve Parker.” She reached out a perfectly manicured hand to clasp his warmly, much as her mother had done earlier. It was easy to see where Lexie inherited her sense of style as well as her colorful language. “I wondered who the Yukon in the drive belonged to.”
Lexie had come through the back gate at the rear of the fenced in backyard and missed the strange vehicle toward the front of the house. She gave him that are you crazy look he’d come to know quite well. “You didn’t drive here did you?”
“No, it’s a rental.”
Cutter invited the trio to dine with him at a restaurant of their choice. No big surprise, Lexie chose a popular seafood place. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she often would avoid the beef dishes and the steaks that Maria prepared for dinner. Instead, she had opted for the salad, rice, and vegetables. While Lexie and Grandma Jane changed clothes, Eve poked in the number to the restaurant for call ahead seating, and then she settled in to interrogate him.
Lexie would have loved to know how and when Cutter had convinced her mother that she should spend her Saturday playing tour guide for him while he checked out some farms near the Williams place. She’d protested in vain that the Williams boys would be better guides. Cutter argued that the whole project had been her idea, and the least she could do was follow up. His argument had been unanimously upheld. She wouldn’t know a moment’s peace for a week from Mom or Grandma if she’d been rude enough to refuse to accompany him. Skip wasn’t happy that he couldn’t come along, but he was better off at home. If Cutter really aggravated her, she didn’t want poor Skip to get into trouble for taking a chunk out of him, and she was still out of sorts about his reaction when she’d inquired whether or not he had the funds to tackle the project.
It was obvious to Cutter that she was still holding a grudge, for what she considered his assumption that she was after his money. She hadn’t said a word since they left the house. He decided to make a wrong turn at the next intersection.
“Cutter! You needed to go left, not right.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m sure. I’ve been out this way hundreds of times.” She wondered why he didn’t use the GPS, but then she realized what little use it had been to her out in his part of the world. She figured he didn’t trust the device.
“Right, Bill Jr. told me that when you were in high school you used to be one of the kids that helped his dad put up hay when he baled.”
“Some of us have to work for other folks. At that time in my life, I preferred to be outdoors, and Mr. Williams boarded my horse at a reasonable price in exchange. He got most of my pay back anyhow.”
“Is that the horse you sold when you went to college?”
“ Yes. I got a partial scholarship, but school was expensive. I couldn’t keep him, but he has a nice home with three little girls who spoil him.”
An hour later, she was ready to strangle him! He pulled in the drive only to be met by both Bill Williams Sr. and Jr. who quickly piled into the back of the Yukon. She absolutely did not need to be here. Following a lengthy tour of the most productive of the threatened leases, Cutter and the Williams duo made arrangements to meet on Monday to look at a couple of options to secure the chosen hay fields. Not once was she consulted or asked for an opinion.
Alone once again in the rented vehicle, Cutter made a circuitous sweep of the nearby area. They broke for lunch close to one that afternoon. Lexie routed him to her favorite lunch spot for soup, bread sticks, and salad. The prices weren’t as attractive on the weekends, but she reasoned it would not bankrupt him. Still, the not-so-frugal decision weighed on her conscience. While working on their choice of beverages and waiting for the lunch order, Cutter handed her an envelope with the Rocking R logo emblazoned on it. With all the caution due the u
nearthing of a rattler’s nest, she opened the sealed flap. Enclosed was a check made out to her for the amount of eight hundred dollars.
“What is this for?”
“Reimbursement for your ruined clothing”
“Isn’t this excessive? I distinctly remember stating the value of the outfit Maria trashed as slightly over three hundred.”
The subject of the settlement was resumed after the salad and bread sticks arrived, and the waiter was out of earshot. “The balance of the repayment is complements of a fat, happy, little calf that wouldn’t have survived if you hadn’t jumped in the muck after him, and if memory serves, you also lost a pair of shoes in that rescue. I haven’t the slightest idea what women’s apparel sells for, so I estimated based on the value of the green outfit.”
“Honestly, Cutter, the loss of that outfit and navy pumps was my own fault. If my temper hadn’t gotten the better of me, I might not have lost them in the mud.”
“Whatever—the memory is priceless. Take the check, Lex. It is my last official task as your employer.”
He watched her fold the check, placing it in the same back pocket of her snug fitting jeans as her old leather wallet. Then she threw him a curve ball.
“Have you found a new bookkeeper?”
“Sam has taken over the interviews while I’m away. It is an ongoing search.”
“I hope you won’t take this the wrong way, but I wouldn’t hire another woman while Maria is in charge of the house. Also, if the new bookkeeper finds discrepancies in Mr. Henson’s record keeping, give them the benefit of the doubt before you take offense.”
He let her bombshell regarding his family’s longtime bookkeeper slide for the moment. He had more pressing matters to resolve before returning home. Instead of following up on the accounting of years past, he brought her up to speed on the current negotiations with owners of the leased hay fields. He ended his narration as they took to the road again by asking her opinion.
