by Angela Smith
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“You didn’t. We’re having brunch. Skipped breakfast.” He winked at Reagan. “Can we get you anything? There’s plenty of sausage and bacon and biscuits left over.”
“No, thank you.”
“How about coffee? A mimosa?”
Winona expected coffee would exacerbate the nausea in her stomach. “No, thank you. Actually, this isn’t a social call. I came to ask you for help.”
Garret drained his coffee and stood. He set his plate in the sink and turned on the water to rinse the dishes. Probably thinking she needed help with her motorcycle or hanging a picture, Garret said, “I don’t have anything planned today. What did you need?”
“Remember Jake’s cousin who was killed?” They both nodded. “Jake wanted to hire me to investigate his cousin’s estranged wife and the disappearance of Amy, the daughter of the man killed. I haven’t agreed yet, but I’d like to question the mother. I was wondering if you’d want to help.”
Reagan’s eyes narrowed, but she didn’t say anything. Garret glanced at his wife a moment and returned his attention to Winona.
“If not, that’s okay. Don’t think I need protection or anything. I’ve been doing things like this alone for years. Please, please don’t tell Jake or Chayton. I haven’t decided yet whether I’ll take the case.”
An awkward silence stretched among them.
“What exactly is your plan?” Garret finally asked.
“I thought I’d pay her a visit tomorrow morning. Nick agreed to fly me to Jackson, Wyoming, which is where Lillian is. We’ll be back by dinner.”
Garret nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“I know it is last minute, but I’ve already talked to Nick and he agreed.”
“Actually, I’ve been wanting to do some shopping and sightseeing in Jackson,” Reagan said. “I’ll call and ask Nick’s wife if she wants to go, and we can make a day of it.”
“Darling, last time we took his helicopter, we destroyed it.”
“Yeah, but Chayton was flying. Not Nick.”
Winona remembered the story. Reagan had been kidnapped by a madman who thought she could help him heist the jewels that were locked in a safe at her dead uncle’s cabin, and Garret and Chayton had flown into a blizzard to save her. Her relationship with Garret had been wrought with near-catastrophes, but true love had won in the end. Winona’s eyes watered every time she thought of it, and she didn’t cry easily.
“Okay,” Garret agreed.
“I’ll pay for everything,” Winona said. If she planned on taking the case, she’d hand Jake a hefty bill.
“No need,” Reagan said. “You can pay Nick, but no need to pay for our trip.”
“So when do we leave?” Garret asked.
“Tomorrow. About seven in the morning.”
“Sounds good,” Garret said.
“Thank you so much.” Winona hugged Reagan, then Garret.
“No thanks necessary, but you’re welcome.”
“Please don’t tell Chayton or Naomi where we’re going. I don’t want Jake to know.”
“I doubt they’ll tell Jake,” Reagan said. “We can’t leave without telling them.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have to tell them where you’re going or why.”
“I don’t have to tell them a damn thing,” Garret said, his voice taking on an edge of humor combined with combativeness. He wrapped his arm behind Reagan’s waist and pulled her in to kiss her cheek. “What I do is none of my brother’s business.”
Chapter Eight
Jake was surprised when Chayton didn’t once lecture him about Winona. He had expected to hear something along the lines of you hurt her, I’ll hurt you, but Chayton never said a word.
Instead, they four-wheeled through lush green forests, stopping for a picnic and fly fishing. They talked about activities, extreme sports, the weather. Jake had a feeling Chayton was testing him, seeing what kind of person he was before he passed any judgment, but it didn’t bother Jake. He’d do the same thing if he had a sister. Planned to do the same thing when Amy started dating.
Not that he and Winona were dating, by any means. And not that Chayton knew they were sleeping together. If he knew, he might not be so nice.
They got home by nine, which was too early to sleep and too late to do anything but drink. Once Jake was enclosed in his tiny shell of a room, the world started closing in on him. He mused over Amy, Winona, Lillian, Brandon, and all the things that were messed up in his life right now.
He texted Winona and paced the room. After an hour of no response, he showered. Still no response, and he couldn’t sleep.
He finally called Winona.
“Hello?” she chirped. He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She wasn’t sleeping, she obviously wasn’t missing him, and she sounded cheerful.
“Hey,” he said. “D’you miss me?”
“What?” Her silken voice tingled on his ear, licking flames along his spine. He stretched his feet out on the bed and propped himself up against a pillow. He heard her fake a yawn. “Who is this?”
“Oh, that’s what I get, huh?” he teased. “I’ve been thinking about you all day and you don’t even remember who I am?”
“Mmmm,” she uttered. “Did you have fun with my brother today?”
“Oh, we had a blast.”
“I see he didn’t kill you. Or leave you stranded out in the boondocks so you couldn’t find your way home.”
“No, he didn’t kill me. At least, not yet. I’m still convinced he wants to, though.”
“Why’s that?”
“He wants to take me to an old cabin in the woods tomorrow.”
“You mean his cabin? It isn’t old. And I’d hardly call it a cabin. It’s a magnificent house.”
“He says he’s been thinking of building a track there, and wanted to get my take on it.”
“You should do it. It’ll be fun.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t deserve to have fun.
“Did Naomi go with you today?”
“No. Chayton said she was doing wedding stuff today. I think she might be driving him somewhat bonkers.”
“Naomi can be a bit controlling herself.”
“He seems happy.”
“They’re both very happy. And a lot of fun. You’d have a lot of fun with him tomorrow. He probably needs the company right now, too. Needs to get away from Naomi and her wedding planning.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me for another day?”
Winona’s laughter drilled heaviness in his heart, making his loneliness more physical. He jumped up from the bed and switched on another lamp to try to dispel the darkness.
“No, I’m not trying to get rid of you. I just think you’ll have fun.”
“Maybe you’re in on plotting my murder.”
Winona laughed again, and his tread was lighter as he returned to the bed. He huffed out a breath when he reached the lonely bed, whipped around, and paced. “I’m thinking about going tomorrow. But I need to go see Amy.”
“I know. But I think you’re doing the right thing by giving them a few days to adjust.”
Jake didn’t agree. The more time he gave them, the more lies Lillian had a chance to tell Amy. Amy was only seven, and probably thought her dad and uncle had abandoned her.
“Give it one more day,” Winona continued. “We can drive out to see Amy together, and I can do more research there, if that’s what you still want.”
“Yes. Yes, I do still want that. I just … I’m afraid to wait another day.” His voice cracked, and he sat on the bed, trying to hold it together. Solitude made it much harder to hold it together.
“I know it’s hard, baby.” Winona’s voice crept into his nerves, rupturing his reserves. “But right now, as a woman, I think she’s doing the right thing, as long as she’s keeping Amy from everyone. Amy doesn’t need to be influenced by outside sources right now until she can remember what happened and tell the cops.”
/> He tightened his grip on the phone and clenched his teeth. “She’s being influenced by her mother. That’s the problem. And I’m not an outside source.”
He heard Winona’s heavy breath in his ear, and fury pounded him. How dare she take Lillian’s side?
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way,” she said.
“Did you find out anything today?” Jake finally asked.
“I made a few phone calls. And I have a few other things to do tomorrow. So you go with Chayton tomorrow, and I’ll finish up some things I have to do here.”
“Like what? What do you have to do?”
“More calls. Read the report. I don’t know, stuff. You asked me to take on a case, and these things take time.”
A heavy silence followed. He swallowed, biting back words. He appreciated her and her family for everything, but it still wasn’t enough. He needed to see Amy for himself. He was so tired of waiting and trusting other people to do the right thing.
He knew he couldn’t force Winona to do anything, and the fact she was at least trying should have made him feel better. It didn’t. He didn’t think she realized the gravity of this situation. Even though she owed him nothing, he couldn’t help but feel a bubbling resentment for her lack of haste. Maybe these things—kidnapping, murder, solving crimes—took time, but she was a private investigator. Shouldn’t she be able to do something?
“I know there’s a lot of evil in this world,” Winona said, her whisper-soft words bristling along his skin and clenching his already aching heart. “Evil parents. But it’s hard for me to consider a mother doing such a thing. It hurts to even think it’s a possibility. I … I used to think the same thing about my mother.”
Winona’s voice broke, and Jake felt like an ass. But he still didn’t reply.
“At first I didn’t understand how my mom could give me up, you know? I didn’t remember her. I thought selfish parents were just a part of life. Every child I lived with in the orphanage had had the same thing happen to them. But my mom adopted me when I was thirteen, and I learned she’d done it to protect me. And then I found out about Chayton.”
He heard rustling on the phone. “I’m sorry,” Winona said. He wasn’t sure if she was about to hang up or what, but he knew he was being a jerk for not saying anything.
“Winona?”
“What?” she barked.
“I’m sorry. I appreciate your offer to come with me.”
“I know this isn’t easy for you.”
“It’s worse when I’m having a good time. Like today.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’m not meant to have a good time.”
“Why not?”
“Because.” He paused, tension knotting his shoulders. His throat tightened, making it harder to speak, harder to breathe. “Brandon. Died. And I’m out having a good time.”
He swallowed a sob. His mom, if she were still alive, would have told him to cry. Would have held him while he cried. His dad would have told him to toughen up, be a man, and experience the loss for what it was: a part of living life.
He appreciated that Winona didn’t urge him to discuss his feelings or rationalize them for him. He appreciated that she didn’t make him feel guilty for backsliding, for weakening, for suffering. For wanting to talk, but not being able to talk. She didn’t pressure him, only waited.
He stood and shut off all the lights, trying to extinguish his guilt, his life, his feelings. Stupid fucking feelings. Alcohol snuffed out all feelings, which is exactly why he had abused it for years.
“I think he would expect you to keep living and having fun,” Winona finally said, her soft voice punctuating a grievous silence.
“Oh, I know he would. Doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Are you having another pity party?” she gently teased.
Laughter rumbled low in his chest. His thighs tightened, body stirred awake. “Can I?”
“Absolutely. But you’ll have to do it alone tonight.”
“It’s no fun without you. You’re only a few miles away.”
“I just heard Chayton come home. He’s probably waiting to see if you’ll be right behind him. Or if I’ll be leaving. He’s like my guard dog. And believe me, his bite is just as bad as his bark. Besides, I’m tired. You’re tired. You need to get up early and go with Chayton. I plan on sleeping in.”
“Sounds like you’re making excuses.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But you don’t want Chayton burying you alive tomorrow, do you?”
“Well, crap. No.”
“He wouldn’t kill you slowly, either. He might be digging a hole for you right now.”
“Well, now I’m really not going out there with him. A creepy cabin in the woods. He said somewhere in the mountains.”
Winona’s laughter eased the tightness of his chest. “You’ll love it.”
“I won’t like being buried alive.”
“He’s not going to bury you alive.”
“You’re right. He’ll probably beat me with the shovel first.”
“Doubtful. He wouldn’t even hurt a spider unless provoked.”
“Well, I’ll try not to provoke him. But if he knew what I was thinking, he might feel provoked.”
“Oh? What are you thinking?”
“I’m wondering what you’re wearing.”
“What?” she exclaimed. Fire feasted in his loins, erupting in his balls.
“What are you wearing?”
She giggled. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing. I’m lying in bed, dreaming of you. And you should get a good night’s sleep, so you can be observant in case Chayton does try to hit you over the head with a shovel. Have fun tomorrow. And I’ll see you Saturday.”
“That’s it? You can’t leave me with that image and just hang up now.”
“Mmm hmmmm, that’s it.”
“Forget your brother trying to kill me. You’re going to kill me first.”
“Call me tomorrow when you get back.”
“Yeah. Okay. Good night, then.”
“Good night. Sweet dreams.”
“Oh, I plan to. If I ever get to sleep.”
Winona giggled and he slipped further down on his bed. He kicked off his shoes, but didn’t get up. Chances were he’d lie awake in his clothes all night, staring at the dark ceiling. His body hurt with all the four-wheeling they had done. His thighs ached, his balls burned. And he didn’t want to move lest he fall into a deep dark hole of depression.
Winona’s body could offer a temporary relief.
“Good night,” Winona said.
“Good night,” he said, but didn’t hang up.
“You hang up first,” Winona said.
“No.”
Silence.
“Okay, fine. Maybe we can just go to sleep with each other on the phone.”
“Sounds good. You ever have phone sex?”
• • •
An uneventful flight led them to Jackson, Wyoming. Stress and busyness kept Winona’s attention focused inward instead of on the beauty of the earth they passed. The plane’s engine resounded in her stomach, but she couldn’t blame her queasiness on that. She went over questions she would ask Lillian and envisioned the results.
They had gotten a late start, but she wouldn’t dare complain that Nick and his wife hadn’t been ready. They’d still be in Jackson by eleven, which was probably best anyway. Nick and his wife had asked her if she minded staying the night and what could she say to that? So she’d packed an overnight bag and wondered what in the world she was going to tell Jake.
She and Jake had talked last night about her driving to Wyoming with him, so she had to convince him to put it off another day. And when she did come with him, Lillian would give away the fact they’d already met. She couldn’t lie about the fact she’d paid the woman a visit. It was probably in her best interest to tell him the truth, but she wanted to wait until she got back home.
They checked into a hotel and Reagan stayed while Garret accompanied Winona to the address Winona had found in her investigation of Lillian. The house was taller than it was wide, situated on a narrow lot on a busy street with virtually no parking. A rusted-red roof made the white house look pale. Bushes in need of a trim bordered two windows and one plant hung limply on the front porch. A cracked sidewalk led to the front door.
Winona knocked, and knocked again. She heard thudding so knew someone was home. Finally, a voice said, “Just a minute.” Winona glanced at Garret, who had his hands at his side but prepared to defend them if necessary. Neither of them relaxed.
Lillian opened the door dressed to the nines in a slinky black outfit with red stilettos and tons of jewelry. Perfume reeked from her body and her lips were embellished in bright red. Strong purple makeup highlighted her brown eyes, underlined in smoky charcoal. Modesty did not accompany her outfit, especially as it was before the noon hour.
Winona wondered if the woman was going out somewhere, or if she had just gotten home from a night of partying.
“Ms. Inman?” Winona said.
“I don’t have time for reporters right now.”
“We’re not reporters.”
“Looks like you’re going out,” Garret said, his voice drawling in a flirtation that Winona would think was sincere if she didn’t know him any better.
Lillian cooed under his gaze. She flicked a piece of hair from her eyes. “I am.”
“So soon after your daughter’s return?” he asked.
“I’m celebrating.”
“Without her?” Winona chimed in.
Lillian shot her gaze to Winona, her forehead crinkled in a scowl.
“Who are you?”
Winona handed Lillian her business card. She might have retired, but she hadn’t let go of all her supplies. “Winona Wall, private investigator.”
Lillian’s face contorted in confusion before she quickly recovered. “What’s this about?”
“You just got your daughter back. Who’s she staying with? You’re leaving her so soon to go party when you shouldn’t ever want to leave her sight again.”
“She’s staying with my mother. Her grandmother.” Her voice rose, harsh and insistent. She didn’t move from the door, didn’t invite them in or step out and close the door. Winona tried to peer behind her, but she couldn’t make out anyone else in the home. One light was on, probably for Lillian to see in the dark when she came home.
