Kansas Nights [Kansas Heat 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Jenny Penn

  “I guess I’ll just have to risk it,” Kathy tossed over her shoulder at Bethany and headed out into the salon.

  The other woman hadn’t lied. In less than two steps, she managed to bring all the chatter to deafening silence as the blue-haired club turned their narrowed, disapproving gazes in her direction. Never one to shy away from confrontation or cower before a room full of bullies, Kathy offered one and all smiles, knowing that would irritate the bridge club that had taken over the salon.

  Once a week, every other week, Marion and her cronies showed up to hold court. Nails, face, and hair, they were worked over while swapping gossip and passing judgment on Humble’s fine citizenry. They represented the wealth and privilege of the county’s upper crust—two things Kathy didn’t respect.

  As part of the broke and irrelevant class, she tended to value hard work, loyalty, honesty, and even having a good sense of humor over money and bloodlines. It was Kathy’s sense of humor that helped keep her head held high as she sauntered past the old bats. It amused her, too, to swing her hips with an overly sexual swagger as she passed them by.

  That should make their tongues wag. There could be no doubt that they had been running their mouths. Even if Bethany hadn’t told her, Kathy would have felt it in the air. It didn’t matter that she was probably guilty of all the lewd things they accused her of behind her back. Kathy still took an exception to the fact that they would criticize her for it.

  Not that she would dare to be so bold or crass as to confront the older ladies with their rudeness. Doing that would only confirm their low opinion of her, reaffirming her status as some lowly, pathetic creature to be pitied and mocked. Instead Kathy proved them wrong by being proud and confident, meeting their gazes head-on with a smile and polite greetings.

  Only the hairdressers smiled back. The little, old hags talked to each other, though. The hum of voices grew slowly louder in Kathy’s wake as the little old ladies began to whisper and kibitz amongst each other. She felt like a cat strutting through the hen house while all the chickens started to squawk and flap at her. Despite the noise and commotion, Kathy remained focused on her quarry.

  She’d narrowed in on Marion when Jillian Sanders blocked her way, stepping up to greet Kathy with an overly enthusiastic grin. Kathy caught Rosy’s eye over the little brunette’s head and watched her friend rush to finish slathering dye on Marion’s head. No doubt, Rosy thought she’d come to speak to her and worked hard to protect her tip, probably guessing how explosive Kathy and Marion could be.

  There was no getting around Jillian or her barrage of questions, though. She played with Kathy’s hair and checked out her nails, but it didn’t take long before Jillian’s questions about Kathy’s beauty routine turned into sly comments about staying pretty for her two men. Not about to let that opportunity pass her by, Kathy made sure everyone there knew that Jack and Collin were hers, and happy to be so.

  Those daring admissions escalated the murmur behind her to a high-pitched frenzy as Kathy finally brushed past Jillian. Still, she got blocked from reaching her main target.

  “Kathy!” Rosy intercepted her, stepping up to block Kathy’s path with the stink of peroxide. Standing there while she waved a dye-laden brush almost right beneath Kathy’s nose, Rosy managed to appear more shocked than annoyed. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

  “Oh, I know.” Wrinkling her nose, Kathy took a stumbling step back, blinking away the tears that started to fill her eyes. “But I needed to ask you for a favor, so I thought I would drop by. I’m not interrupting, am I?”

  Before Rosy could point out the obvious, Marion answered for her. “Yes, you are. My head is already starting to tingle from all this itchy dye, and I don’t fancy sitting here all day with an itchy scalp while you two gossip, so if you don’t mind, Rosemarie.”

  Rosy grimaced at the formal use of her name. Kathy knew it brought up reminders of her stern bitch of a mother, especially when used in that tone. Rosy hid her pain well, though, managing to turn and offer Marion a smile that looked almost perfectly sincere.

  “Certainly, Mrs. Myers.”

  “And try not to get any more on my forehead,” the old witch commanded. She reached up to blot up an imaginary spot of color with the towel she had twisted in her hands. “You’re supposed to be coloring my hair, not my forehead.”

  “I’ll try, Mrs. Myers,” Rosy assured her like a Stepford clone. Her friend might be able to play servant to the snobby woman, but Kathy didn’t have to. She wasn’t working for a tip.

  “Marion,” Kathy greeted her, knowing it would irritate the wanna-be blue-blood to be referred to so informally by a peon like Kathy. “How are you today?”

  “I would be doing a whole lot better if Rosemarie would concentrate on her job.”

  “I’m sure she’s trying her hardest.” It took all of Kathy’s self-control not to smart back to the woman. She coped. She even managed to settle down on Rosy’s unused stool to place a consoling hand on Marion’s knee and pull off a sympathetic tone. “But really, how are you doing?”

  “What in the world are you babbling about, child?” Marion asked, trying to jerk her leg out from Kathy’s touch.

  “It’s all right to grieve, Marion.” Just for that “child” crack, Kathy leaned in and squeezed Marion’s knee as she reassured her, “We’re here to help.”

  “Grieve?” Marion repeated, looking honestly baffled. “For who?”

  Either she was an excellent actress or the woman really didn’t know about her brother. Kathy really hoped it was the former, otherwise what she was about to do would be cruel.

  “I know.” Kathy added a nod to that whisper, but it didn’t get anything more than a confused blink from Marion. “About Eddie.”

  “Eddie?”

  “Your brother…he’s dead…the authorities pulled his remains out of his bomb shelter.” Kathy kept prodding, kept trying to get a response, but Marion continued to gaze at her as if she spoke some foreign language.

  She wasn’t the only one who stared at her in stunned amazement. The salon had gone deathly quiet again. Kathy could feel the eyes narrowing on her with disapproval. She had only seconds before she earned the label of biggest bitch ever. While Kathy might pride herself for being known for disreputable things, being labeled mean didn’t sit well with her.

  Reaching out to squeeze Marion’s knee in a comforting gesture, she offered the other woman her condolences in her most sympathetic voice. “I just wanted to let you know I am very sorry about his passing. Eddie was a great guy, and we’re going to miss seeing him around the library.”

  “Library?” That got her a response, one that proved just how callous and cold Marion could be. “My brother knew where the library was?”

  While others might rationalize her focus on that inconsequential detail as a matter of shock, Kathy expected no less. She smiled in the face of Marion’s disbelief, impressed by the other lady’s acting abilities. As if Marion didn’t already know the answer to her own question, Kathy baited her with the information Sarah Anne had supplied.

  “Of course, we used to see him in there all the time. Eddie enjoyed going through the historical books, tended to go through the old bootleg maps.” Kathy laughed as if enjoying a fond memory. “We used to have tell him to clean his hands first because he kept leaving greasy fingerprints on the pages. I guess one day I’ll have to go and see if he buried any treasure in those tunnels.”

  “I somehow doubt my brother had anything worth burying.” Marion’s smile was tight, the worry there clear for Kathy to see.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Kathy shrugged. “Nobody ever does.”

  “I do,” Marion stated with enough conviction to solidify Kathy’s suspicions.

  “Well, I just wanted to offer you my sympathy.” Kathy let the argument go, confident she’d accomplished what she needed to. Rising up off the stool as Rosy snapped off her gloves and dropped them into the small tub of dye, she offered Marion one final assurance. “Ed
die will be missed.”

  With that she headed off toward the back room, taking every eye in the salon with her while leaving Rosy to offer her own condolences before following. It didn’t take long for Rosy to come rushing after her. Clearly pissed and ready to take it out on Kathy, Rosy kicked the workroom door, closing it for the first time in years.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rosy demanded to know. She pitched the bowl along with the remnants of the dye into the proper receptacle before turning on Kathy. Rosy’s fists hit her hips as she confronted Kathy directly. “That was either one of the cruelest things I’ve ever seen or you’re dumber than I ever thought.”

  “First off, I’m not stupid.”

  Kathy would rather be guilty of being mean than stupid any day of the week. Hell, everybody had a dirty streak in them. It was just a matter of how much provocation it took to bring it out. Given that Amanda’s life hung in the balance, Kathy could live with being the bitch, especially when she knew Marion was partly to blame.

  “Well, then that was uncalled for,” Rosy snapped. “You may not like her, but Marion’s still a human being, and you should show some respect before telling her her brother is dead.”

  “Not if she killed him,” Kathy pointed out, bringing a halt to the tirade Kathy could sense Rosy building toward.

  She could almost hear the thoughts running through Rosy’s mind. Crazy, paranoid, psychopath. That’s what she wanted to call Kathy, but Rosy also knew there was a very real chance Kathy could be right. It had happened before. That explained why Rosy settled on the response she gave.

  “Prove it.”

  “I intend to,” Kathy assured her. Ignoring Rosy’s groan, she plastered on her biggest smile. “All I need is a little favor.”

  “You know, I don’t think I want to be involved in this.” It didn’t take Rosy a second to come to her conclusion. It was her kneejerk one, the one she always gave Kathy and the one she never stuck by.

  “Oh, come on, Rosy. It’s just one little bitty favor,” Kathy cajoled her.

  “No.”

  “Please.”

  “No!”

  “Don’t you want to help Amanda? You know she’s in trouble, don’t you?”

  “Grrr,” Rosy growled before caving just as Kathy knew she would. Dropping into a seat, she gave in with a scowl. “Fine. What do you need?”

  “Your gun.”

  “What gun? I don’t have a gun.” Rosy quickly denied what Kathy knew to be the blatant truth.

  “Don’t play me like that.” Kathy moved swiftly into the seat opposite Rosy, forcing her to meet her gaze. “I know your daddy left you his old revolver. I just need—”

  “I don’t want to know what you need.” Rosy held her hands up. “I don’t want to be involved.”

  “I promise I’m not going to shoot anybody.”

  “I wish I could believe that,” Rosy grouched, crossing her arms over her chest to glare at Kathy. “But you know better than to threaten somebody with a gun. Your own damn dad used to say, ‘you don’t threaten, you shoot.’ That’s what a gun is for.”

  “Unless it’s a prop,” Kathy argued. “And that’s all this is. I swear to God. You don’t even have to give me the bullets.”

  “Damnit, Kathy!”

  “Please, Rosy.” Kathy paused, but when Rosy just glared at her, she went back to threatening. “Don’t make me play the guilt card again… Did you know Amanda’s pregnant?”

  “You are the lowest of the low, and you’re not taking any of the bullets.”

  “Great.” Kathy smiled, too pleased to have won the argument to worry over Rosy’s insult. Besides, she wasn’t wrong. “Oh, and I need your camera. You know that little one, you can hide and record things onto a flash—”

  “Fine,” Rosy cut her off. “Take whatever you need, just don’t tell me about it. I want to be able to deny any knowledge when the authorities question me.”

  Shoving out of her seat, Rosy moved off toward the cubbies where the workers stored their personal effects. Yanking her keys off the shelf, she tossed them at Kathy who caught them in midair.

  “You’ll find the camera in my desk drawer and the other thing in the box under my bed, and I don’t want to hear anything about anything else that might be in my box, and no you can’t borrow it.”

  “Hmm.” Kathy eyed her old friend, wondering what she had stored under her bed. “I can’t wait to find—”

  “Never mind.” Rosy snatched her keys back. “My last appointment is at three. I’ll bring the stuff by the library, assuming you don’t need it before then.”

  “No, but I don’t want Collin to know I have it.”

  “Collin?” Rosy arched a brow at her. “I take it that’s the hunk who’s lurking around the library. Is he another DEA agent?”

  “Shhh,” Kathy hissed, waving at Rosy to keep it down. “No, he’s not, and don’t be talking about that. You haven’t told anybody, have you?”

  “Of course not,” Rosy huffed indignantly. “I’d never betray—Okay, I told my mom, but you know she can keep a secret.”

  “Except from her bridge partners.” Kathy’s day went from sugar to shit in that instant. “And it doesn’t take a big leap from Glyniss Burke telling her daughter April what she heard at bridge and then April’s talking about it the next day at work, and guess who hears?”

  “Molly Karr.”

  “That’s right, Molly Karr. Then this whole damn town will know the truth about Jack, and do you know how much trouble I’ll be in?” Kathy didn’t even want to contemplate that answer.

  “Don’t get overworked,” Rosy grumped. “Mom won’t say anything, and I’ll leave the stuff in your car.”

  “Make it my house.”

  “Your house?”

  “In the cabinet in my bathroom,” Kathy clarified. “I don’t want Collin to find it.”

  “Oh, God,” Rosy groaned. “I am going to end up in jail, aren’t I?”

  * * * *

  Marion could feel the looks being cast in her direction and knew everybody waited for her to have some kind of reaction to the death of her brother. She had nothing, just a cold, empty feeling hollowing her out her insides. It wasn’t grief that held her to her seat, but fear.

  Eddie was dead and she knew who killed him. Worse, she could be considered an accomplice. That put her on the line for two murders and probably a whole lot more despite the fact that she was guilty of so very little. She’d sent Will to Dennis and had given Dennis the combination to her brother’s bomb shelter. Now both Will and Eddie were dead.

  Marion wasn’t a lawyer, but still knew that all equaled to her butt ending in jail. Dennis probably wouldn’t let it go that far, but Marion suspected his solution would be put her into the ground instead. If she wanted to avoid that fate, Marion would do everything she could to make sure she didn’t become a liability to him, or more of one.

  Whatever her brother had been up to, whoever followed in his footsteps, Marion needed to put a stop to their search.

  Chapter 25

  Collin didn’t like being ditched, especially not when he knew Kathy’s motives would be anything but good. Worse, he had no doubt that Kathy had run off to confront Marion Myers. Collin suspected that’s what “lunch with the girls” translated to. It was just as he’d warned Jack. Kathy couldn’t be controlled with sex. He doubted anything could actually control her, but that didn’t change the fact that once he got his hands on her pretty little ass…

  Cringing as the ring of his phone interrupted his thoughts, Collin glanced at the number on the screen fully expecting to see Jack’s flashing there. No doubt his team had somebody watching Marion, meaning there would be no way to keep Kathy’s indiscretion quiet.

  Apparently, though, he had a little longer before Jack tore into him. The number flashing on the screen wasn’t his. Collin didn’t recognize it, but flipped the phone open anyway.

  “Hello.” He called out that greeting as he turned the Jeep around to t
ake another cruise through town.

  “Collin, man, is that really you?”

  “Maybe. I guess it all depends on who the hell you are.” The deep voice coming from the other end was definitely male and certainly familiar, but that didn’t mean Collin had a clue who he was talking to.

  “You know, you save a man’s life more than once and you think he’d remember you.” The other man heaved a suffering sigh as his tone dipped forlornly. “I really should have let that pink-haired prostitute have her way with you if this is all the thanks I’m going to get.”

  “Oh, shit.” Collin braked hard at the stop sign as it hit him. The deep, whiskey-soaked drawl along with an attitude more irreverent than his own, it could only be, “Nicholas Cooper. You son of a bitch, I heard you were back stateside.”

  “Yeah, I cashed in on some saved-up leave.” There was a hard edge to Nick’s words that made him sound unusually old and cold. It thawed out a second later as Nick snorted. “Thought I’d spend it back here at the ranch with Andy.”

  “And how is that working out for you?” Collin had never met Andrew Cooper, but knew the legend thanks to Nick’s constant harping about his older brother. “You enjoying yourself?”

  “More than you would think,” Nick admitted. “Though mostly because our new neighbor has Andy’s dick all in a twist.”

  “And you, of course, are helping that situation along.” Collin eased the Jeep down Main Street, more focused on finding Kathy’s beat-up little compact than Nick’s comment.

  “Of course.” Nick paused, and Collin could almost feel the grin growing at the other end of the line. “Not that it needs it. You really have to check this girl out.”

  “No, trust me, I don’t.” Despite Nick’s legendary appetite for hot and wild women, Collin didn’t find himself the least bit tempted or curious about his latest conquest. Neither did he find Kathy’s hatchback.