High Noon

by Debra Webb

His face grim, he nodded.

  “For how long?” There was no way to even guess how long it would be before this woman was stopped.

  Was she really buying into this? She blinked back the images she had seen in the album. How could she not?

  “As long as it takes.”

  Chapter Seven

  Laney went back inside her house.

  Joel stood. He hadn’t wanted to tell her right away. Too much risk that she would go to the authorities or make some other move that would get the media’s attention.

  The less Clare Barker knew about her daughters, the better. Keeping the situation contained until a resolution was reached was absolutely essential. Warden Prentice at Polunsky Prison and the Texas State D.A.’s office wanted this investigation off the record until the puzzle was solved.

  He climbed the steps wishing there was something he could say to make this easier but there was not.

  Laney would have to come to terms with this nightmare in her own time. At the moment he felt confident that her priority was protecting her son. If Clare was desperate to get at Laney, she might not think twice about using her son.

  If the woman was innocent, which seemed highly doubtful after her escape from surveillance and the steps she had taken since, last night was the first time she’d seen her grandson. She may not have known until she tracked Laney down that she had a grandchild.

  But there were two looming questions. Why had she evaded Lucas’s surveillance? And how had she found Laney? There was no positive proof as of yet that she had tracked down Sadie, her youngest. But there was no doubt this time.

  Clare Barker was here and she was growing bolder.

  Since Laney left the door ajar, Joel figured it was safe to go inside without knocking. Laney sat on the sofa. Buddy was still occupied with his building project.

  Joel placed the photo album on the steamer-trunk-turned-coffee-table and took a seat in a chair across from her. He doubted she wanted him too close, and from the blank expression on her face, talking wasn’t on her mind, either.

  Buddy wandered over to the sofa. “I’m ready for lunch,” he announced. “Breakfast was a long time ago.”

  “Come on, big guy.” Joel stood and rubbed the kid’s head. “Since your mom made breakfast, why don’t we whip up lunch?”

  Buddy looked from his mom to Joel. “Why do we have to whip it? Whippings are bad.”

  Joel laughed. “You got me on that one, Buddy.”

  Laney didn’t say a word as they left the room. Damn, this had to be hard.

  Buddy went straight to the fridge. He opened the door, then dragged one of the chairs over so he could stand on it and survey the offerings.

  “No baloney. No cheese. No ham.”

  He continued naming off the unacceptable options lining the shelves. Joel had a feeling this was going to turn into an ordeal.

  The kid turned to Joel. “Can you make sk’hetti?” He leaned closer and whispered, “Not the stuff in the cans.”

  “Possibly.” Unless there was bottled sauce on hand, that might be a no-go.

  Joel checked the cabinets. To his relief he discovered a jar of warm-and-serve sauce. And pasta. They were in business.

  Buddy had already climbed on the island and retrieved the necessary pot and pan.

  Joel watched as he carefully climbed back onto the chair and down to the floor. Instead of dragging the chair back to the table, he scooted it over to the pantry.

  “We gotta have something green. Lunch and dinner has to have green.”

  By green Joel presumed he meant a vegetable. “Got any green beans in there?”

  Buddy went from door to door perusing the supplies. “No green beans but we got spargut.” He made a face. “Takes like yuck but it’s green.”

  Asparagus. The kid was right. It did taste like yuck from a can. Roasted or grilled, fresh was best.

  Joel had the water on to boil and the sauce and asparagus in pans when Laney appeared. She looked emotionally drained and her arms were still wrapped around her waist. Drained and shaken. The entire structure of her life had just been jerked from beneath her feet.

  “Buddy, why don’t you go finish your project and start figuring out what you’ll take to the High Noon this evening?”

  Buddy frowned. “But I’m cooking.” He had dragged his chair over next to Joel and stood in the seat to watch his every move.

  “I think Mr. Hayden has it under control.”

  Buddy huffed a big breath. “More grown-up talk.”

  He hopped down and dragged his chair back to the table. “I want to help drain the noodles, please.”

  “I’ll let you know when they’re ready,” Joel promised.

  Satisfied, Buddy shuffled off to do as he was told.

  “What are the police doing about this?” she asked without preamble.

  He leaned against the counter near the stove so he could see when the water started to boil. “They aren’t involved yet.”

  “Why not?”

  Time for the anger. “We have no evidence. All we have is the allegations of a man on death row who may be jealous that his wife got off and he didn’t.”

  “But she came into my saloon and talked to my son,” Laney argued. “That’s trespassing or something.”

  “And she’s gone. We can’t prove it was her. It was a woman who looked like her is all we can claim. We have no idea where she is. We can’t connect her to having broken the law. She can do as she pleases until she crosses that line.”

  “The bottom line,” Laney said as she squared her shoulders, “is that you have no idea what her intent is.”

  “We can only speculate based on her husband’s allegations and her actions since being released. But we’re not willing to take the risk that she is an innocent woman who only wants to be reunited with her children. If the only thing she wanted to do was talk to you, she had the opportunity. But she didn’t.”

  She rubbed at her forehead. “So no one can stop her?”

  “Until she breaks the law, all we can do is watch her.”

  “Why wasn’t someone watching her last night?”

  “A few nights ago she gave the man watching her the slip and until now we couldn’t be sure where she was. But, trust me, every effort is being made to get her back on the radar.”

  Laney moved closer to him, leaned against the counter on the opposite side of the stove. “If it’s true that she killed those girls, she could be capable of anything.”

  “That’s why we can’t take any chances.”

  “So you’re asking me to allow you to stay with us every minute until this situation is resolved?”

  “Call the Colby Agency and those references I gave you. I’m here to help, Laney. I know it’s difficult to trust someone you’ve known only for a few days. I wish I could make you see that there simply is no other way to do this.”

  “Give me those numbers again.”

  “I’ll do you one better.” He handed her his cell phone. “Call anyone in my contact list. Ask anything you want to ask. Then make your decision.”

  She stared at him for a good long while, then she accepted his phone and walked away. He heard the front door close as he dumped the pasta into the boiling water and then added a dash of olive oil. He’d learned that trick from his older brother. Kept the noodles from sticking together.

  He set the flame under the sauce and the asparagus. He’d noticed lemonade in the fridge. It wasn’t wine but then his assignment had just elevated to a new hazard level. Extra precaution was needed.

  Clare Barker was here.

  “Hey, Buddy! You want to give me a hand in here?” It wasn’t time to drain the pasta but there were a few things they could get ready.

  The kid set the table while Joel monitored the stove.

  Once the pasta was drained and the meal was transferred to serving dishes, they were ready.

  Laney was still outside.

  Joel helped Buddy get his plate ready and ensured he was settled
at the table before going in search of her.

  He crossed the porch and sat down on the swing next to her.

  She handed him his phone. “I should not only trust you, I should marry you.”

  He frowned. “I’m afraid to ask who gave you that advice.”

  “One of your brothers. The oldest I think.”

  “Yeah, he bugs me about being single all the time. Especially now that they’re all married except me.”

  “Why aren’t you married?” She pushed against the floor with the toe of her boot and set the swing in motion.

  “Never ran into a lady who made me want to divert from the status quo. I like my life.”

  “You mean you’re afraid of change.”

  He laughed. “I’m not afraid of change.”

  “That’s what they all say.” She stopped the swing and got to her feet. At the steps she leaned against the porch post and stared out over her yard.

  He studied her a moment. “Does this mean you will accept my offer of protection?”

  “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

  “I wish I could give you a different answer but I can’t. The situation is escalating and I need to ensure you and Buddy stay safe.”

  She stared at her hands a moment. “From the moment Buddy was born the only thing I wanted was to make sure he was safe and happy. And now everything’s going to hell because of my mistakes.”

  “This isn’t your mistake, Laney.” He came to her, took one of her hands in his and gave it a squeeze to get her to look at him. “You can’t help who your parents are or what they do.”

  She nodded, didn’t try to tug her hand from his. “But I sure screwed everything else up. I’m probably going to lose our home and my business.” She glanced out at the old truck in the driveway. “I never thought I’d have to resort to making Old Blue home again.”

  “Never surrender, Laney. The battle isn’t over until you win or you give up.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  He hitched his head toward the door. “Come on. Sk’hetti and spargut will do you good.”

  She laughed but the emotion shining in her eyes told him she felt more like crying than laughing.

  They made it just inside the door when the house phone rang.

  With a weary sigh, Laney answered.

  Joel checked on Buddy, who had spaghetti sauce all over his face. He smiled. “I guess we make a pretty good team.”

  The kid nodded. “’cept for the spargut.”

  Laney appeared at the kitchen door. “That was the Beaumont police. Vandals hit the High Noon last night. The officer said it’s pretty bad.”

  Damn. Couldn’t the lady get a break?

  3:05 p.m.

  A COUPLE OF WINDOWS were broken. Ugly words were scrawled in white paint across the antique front door that opened into the lobby-style entry. Big splats of paint stained the wood walkway that ran across the front of the saloon.

  That was the good part.

  Inside, several chairs were broken—eight if she counted right. Two tables were damaged.

  Dozens of liquor bottles were shattered, their contents soaking into the old hardwood floor.

  The kitchen and office had been spared. The latter was the strangest part of all. Why didn’t they tear the office apart looking for money?

  Fury tightened Laney’s jaw. Because it wasn’t about money. This was Terry’s kind of tactic. She doubted he would have the guts to do it himself, but one of his scumbag friends would be only too happy to wreak such damage.

  Hayden had already started sweeping up the broken glass from the liquor bottles. Buddy was seated at one of the untouched tables playing an electronic learning game.

  Laney needed paint remover to scrub the slurs from the door. The rest of the cleanup would be more about manual labor.

  She’d have to make do with fewer tables and chairs until she had the cash to buy some replacements. But the liquor supply would have to be taken care of immediately.

  Outside, Terry’s car still sat in the lot. That was the only part that mystified her. If he’d put someone up to this, why leave his car? Maybe to make it look as if he hadn’t been back. But then why hadn’t the vandals touched his fancy car?

  The police had made the report, but doubted their efforts would be anything but futile considering the crowd in and out of here every night. Thousands of fingerprints and loads of trace evidence but nothing that would likely help find the lowlife who had done this. Her money was on Terry, but Hayden had a different theory.

  Laney’s insurance would cover the damages but the darned deductible was so high that she would be better off not even filing a claim.

  “I need to get some paint remover.” She opened at six. There was no time to stand around here pretending the cleanup would get done on its own. Even if the doors had to be sanded and restained, they were opened and pushed against the walls during operating hours, except in the winter. The Old West style swinging doors that separated the lobby from the saloon hadn’t been touched. Thank God.

  “I already called the nearest hardware store. They’re delivering the paint remover and some shop towels,” Hayden told her. “I also called the supply store and someone is pulling together a liquor supply run based on what you typically order.”

  He called and asked for a delivery? No, two deliveries. Laney had no idea something as simple as paint remover was a deliverable item. Maybe he’d promised a big tip which would greatly impact her pocketbook.

  But she wasn’t about to complain. She needed his help.

  “Thanks.”

  Tater would be here within the hour to help.

  Grabbing a bucket, gloves and cleaning clothes, she started with the liquor shelves and counter. Whoever had done this hadn’t exactly been methodical which was to her benefit. Just random damage as if the person or persons who’d done it had been angry.

  Had to be Terry. Jerk.

  She checked for her Louisville Slugger behind the bar. A friend had given the bat to her when she first opened the saloon. If you ever have any trouble, this’ll do the trick. Laney smiled. So far she’d never had to use it. Buddy had asked her a dozen times why he couldn’t play with it.

  Hayden was right. She needed to introduce her son to sports.

  Her son. At least Buddy knew who his parents were.

  She had been adopted.

  The emotional wallop came out of nowhere and made her quake inside. Why hadn’t her parents told her? Maybe they would have if they hadn’t died so suddenly.

  She tugged the gloves onto her hands, stared at them a moment. How could she be the biological result of two killers? Was that why she’d gotten into so much trouble in her teen years? Was she bad deep down inside?

  Laney shook off the horrible thoughts and focused on the work. Her parents had died when she was ten. These other people—Rafe and Clare—were not her parents. Just the reproductive donors.

  Something else to protect her son from.

  The sound of tires spinning in the gravel outside drew her attention to the door just in time to see Terry swagger in. Judging by his walk he was already well on his way to intoxication at this early hour.

  “I need my keys,” he shouted. “Hey, Buddy boy.”

  Buddy glanced up, then lowered his face closer to the screen of his game.

  Laney stripped off her gloves and snagged his keys from under the bar. Joel set his broom aside but Laney stopped him with a look. “I’ve got this.

  “You see this mess?” she demanded.

  Terry glared at her as if she were a lesser life-form.

  “Did you do this, Terry?”

  He looked around as if for the first time. “You know when I left last night.” Terry shot her another of those condescending looks. “I haven’t been back until now. Now give me my keys.”

  Later, Laney would look back on this moment and still the reason she lost it so completely would elude her.

  She tossed the keys to him. He missed the
catch, of course. She waited until he’d swaggered out and then she did what she had wanted to do for years.

  Louisville Slugger in hand, she strode out the door with Hayden calling her name.

  With Terry fumbling with his keys, she walked right up and swung. The impact left a fair-size dent in the hood of his prized car. She moved on to the windshield.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he screamed.

  Laney made her way around the car, bashing windows, denting metal.

  Terry rushed around to her and started wrestling for control of the bat. The desire to use it on his head was nearly more than she could resist.

  Suddenly Hayden was there. She had a feeling he could have stepped in earlier but decided not to spoil her fun.

  Hayden gained control of the bat and held it aside. With the other hand he manacled Terry by the collar. “It would be in your best interest not to come here again.”

  “You touch me and my father will make sure you regret it.”

  Hayden shoved him aside. “Tell him not to waste the effort. I already regret it. Now go and do not come back without making arrangements with Laney.”

  “Finally got you another guy,” Terry accused. “I see how it is.” He sent an accusing look at Laney. “I don’t care what you do but you will not keep my son from me.”

  Laney got right in his face. “I don’t have to. You’re doing a stellar job yourself. No judge with half a brain is going to entertain your petition of custody with your record.”

  “You mean like he’s going to entertain the idea of a kid hanging around a bar all night every night?”

  Before Laney could do something even more stupid, Hayden pressed the bat to Terry’s chest. “I’m certain you want to keep breathing. Now go.”

  “This is nothing compared to what you’ve got coming,” Terry threatened. “Watch your back, Laney!”

  He climbed into his car and revved the engine. Despite the cracked glass and dents, he spun out of the lot.

  Good riddance.

  Hayden turned on her, fury flashing in those bronze eyes. If he’d been gripping the bat any tighter it might have splintered. “This isn’t a .32,” Hayden warned. “When you attack a guy’s vehicle, you attack him. No more of this, Laney. It could have gone way wrong.”