Trouble Tied Up

by Maxine Marsh

  “You don’t have any right to complain about me,” she said. “You’re ashamed of me. You pretend like I mean nothing to you when anyone else is around, not until you want your cock sucked. Then I’m just barely good enough.” The barn suddenly felt like it was shrinking. She took hold of her backpack, which she’d brought back to the barn with her after King had searched it. “At least I’m honest about my feelings.”

  “Honest about your feelings? Fine, that’s fine. But you can’t act high and mighty when we—when I—come to you with concerns. You came here from downtown. That place has a reputation. There’s no way you were there for any amount of time without having done something real bad, not without learning some hard lessons and stowing away some anger for later.”

  She was hurt, and looked for some sort of retort. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who likes whipping women.”

  He started, like she’d thrown something at him. “I’m entitled to my private life,” he said. “But the way you behave is public. You shouldn’t have brought that toy or that notebook to work.”

  “Only because you’re embarrassed,” she muttered.

  “Of course I’m embarrassed.” He sounded it, and angry, too. “I can’t believe you drew those pictures.”

  “That’s my private notebook. He shouldn’t have looked in it.”

  “You shouldn’t be drawing things like that besides.” He paced with his hands on his hips, shaking his head.

  “There’s nothing wrong with those pictures, Clay. That’s my work.”

  “No, your work is here, and it was inappropriate for you to bring in those things, Dina Jo.”

  She felt her throat close in a little. “All that stuff in my locker, all those things in my bag, that’s everything I own!” she said, squeezing her hands into fists by her sides. “I don’t leave it at the motel because I’m afraid someone’ll steal it while I’m here.” She huffed. “And it’s not like you offered to let me stay at your place.”

  He looked up at her quickly. “I couldn’t do that. I’m your boss and you’re … you’re…”

  She saw him catch himself, but it was too late. “I’m just an ex-con, bratty, impossible young lady?” she said. “I know the list of all the things I am. I’ve heard it before from men like you.”

  He frowned at her, seemed to consider saying something, but stopped himself and took a deep breath. When he continued, his voice was measured, cool. “This has gone too far. I’m clouded by what we’ve done, and it has to stop. We aren’t right for each other. You’re going to move on from here one day, but meanwhile, it’s going to start affecting our tasks.” By the end he sounded cold and a little angry, not just firm.

  He was saying it was over. Over before either of them had had a real chance to think about it.

  “You’re serious?”

  “King asked me not to continue messin’ with you.”

  “But Clay—“

  “Enough is enough.”

  Everything in her body tensed, her nostrils flared, but most of all, her heart ached.

  “I’ll drive you back to the motel.”

  She gaped at him, then closed her mouth and set her lips tight. “It’s not closing time,” she managed.

  “I know, but King’s closing early today to do a complete walk through and inventory.”

  “And I’ll bet he’ll start at my stations,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking with anger.

  “It’s not like that, DJ,” he said, unable to keep a sliver of guilt out of his voice.

  “All right,” she said. “Take me home.”

  The ride was utterly uncomfortable. She got out of the truck, slammed the door. She stood in front of the door to her motel room, bag flung over her shoulder, tense and trying to think. She didn’t turn when she heard the truck pull out, just waited until the low growl of the engine was completely absent before turning around and looking down the road. Instead of going to her room, she made her way in the direction of the bar. She intended to ask Ronny for a job; she’d convince him somehow. She wouldn’t make as much, but she decided that if Clayton could cut things off so sharply, so could she. And, she reminded herself, time to get back to my smarts. There was a bad situation at the ranch, and she intended to walk away from trouble. She’d call her parole officer in the morning and explain everything. Hopefully, if she could prove she was employed, they’d let her stay.

  About an hour later, she heard the sirens pass the bar but didn’t think much of it at the time because she’d convinced Ronny to give her a chance, and he was showing her the ropes.

  Chapter Nine

  Clayton got the call about an hour after he’d dropped DJ off at the motel. It was the sheriff, Tom, asking him if Dina Jo was at the ranch. He said she wasn’t and asked what was going on.

  “The motel’s on fire.”

  Clayton rushed back over from the ranch, where, truth be told, he wasn’t getting any work done anyway, and pulled up in front of the motel. The entire eastern half of the long building was completely engulfed in flames, including where DJ’s room had been. A chill went through him, a feeling of dread so strong it stuck in his throat. He jumped out of his truck and ran to Tom, who was standing nearby his cruiser watching the firefighters try to contain the intense fire.

  Tom took one look at his face and said, “Whoa, she’s not in there. The manager,” the sheriff pointed to old Kirk standing off to the side, looking completely dazed, “says he saw DJ walk off toward the bar at some point before he noticed the fire and didn’t see her come back. I’m heading over there right now. Why don’t you follow me?”

  Clayton gripped his steering wheel tightly the whole way over, praying silently that she really had gone off before the fire started. He didn’t know what he would do.

  When they found her inside, behind the bar with Ronny while he explained the taps to her, Clayton realized he’d been holding his breath and let his lungs empty with a whoosh.

  “Thank God,” he said.

  Dina Jo and Ronny looked up at them.

  “What? What happened?” she asked, frowning, annoyed to see Clayton, then shot a sidelong, nervous glance at Tom.

  The sheriff sat her down while he explained what had happened, and that the firefighters could tell by the state of the blaze, flaming hottest where her room was, that the fire had started there.

  She nodded, taking it in, and said, “It’s lucky I brought my things over.”

  There was a silence. She looked at Clayton, then over at the sheriff. Clayton watched a sort of dawning move through her face.

  “Well, you don’t think I had anything to do with it, do you?” she asked in growing alarm.

  Tom opened his mouth, but his phone rang. He held up a finger to her then walked off to take his call. He found the other side of the bar and he spoke in a low tone.

  Clayton stood, looking down at Dina Jo.

  She looked at him in a pleading way. “I didn’t do this, Clay. I swear.”

  He sighed heavily, shoulders slumping a little. “That parole officer of yours told me what you went in for. You burned down your house. With your boyfriend in it.”

  “I didn’t know he was there. He’d left me. He left, and I stayed with a friend that night and went home the next morning and just … just lost it. I didn’t know he was inside.”

  “You’re lucky he got out,” Clayton said hollowly.

  She looked at him, wide-eyed. “You think I don’t know that?”

  Clayton looked down at his boots, unable to face her. “I made a mistake putting you with Sadie. I wish I’d thought about it more. After what you’ve been through, I’d have put you with a different horse.”

  “What does it matter?”

  “She lost her foal,” he said quietly.

  She stiffened and sat back, then swallowed and looked around frantically, like she wasn’t sure what to do. Face creased with tension, she looked like she might cry, but was struggling to avoid it at all costs. “That wasn’t for you t
o know,” she said.

  “We hired you out of prison. It’s all for us to know.”

  There was coldness in his voice that surprised him and seemed to strike her dumb for a minute. “Everything’ll be okay,” he said, trying to sound convincing. “We’ll figure out what happened.” He could try harder, but he’d put himself in a bad position, and now things were playing out in the worst possible way.

  She huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, sure. The world’s only closing in on me.” She grimaced, near to tears. “This place felt so free at first,” she said. “So open. I walked to work that first day feeling the sun on my face and the wind in my hair. Now it’s all closing in, the same way it did that day I set my house on fire.”

  He looked up at her and listened, stunned by her honesty with him. It occurred to him that maybe she felt she didn’t have anything to lose with him anymore.

  She whispered intensely. “And that stupid boyfriend of mine. The idiot went to sleep in the second bedroom, so I didn’t see him. I just walked in that morning, and everything reminded me of my kid. Even the smell of the place…” Her voice trailed off. She stomped her foot in frustration.

  “Hey,” he said, reaching out and putting a hand over hers. He held it tightly. “Remember what I showed you before. You can stand still even when it feels like you can’t. You can wait things out until it’s time to feel better. Right?” He spoke in a firm voice, afraid she’d lose her temper, trying to get his point across. Trying to remind her how well she’d done when he’d tested her—yes, it had all been sexy and fun, but she had been strong in those moments, even when she didn’t have to be. He wanted to make her see that.

  She took a few deep breaths.

  The sheriff returned and began questioning her. It went on a long time. The questions became redundant and short, as though he were looking for holes in her answers or trying to trip her up. How long she’d been at the bar, had she been to the motel today, had she checked in with her parole officer lately, and on and on and on. The more he questioned her, the more Clayton could see a sense of panic begin to set in. At first she was okay, answering in a straightforward sort of way, but soon she began to get more and more defensive toward the sheriff.

  She stopped pleading and her voice got hard. “I’m not stupid. I wouldn’t set fire to that place and then come over here to work at the bar,” she said.

  Clayton frowned. “You’re working here?”

  She frowned back at him. “Things weren’t looking good for me at the ranch, so I came and asked Ronny for a job after you dropped me off.”

  Clayton felt this as a sort of blow. “You were going to quit?”

  The officer looked between them. “Things weren’t looking good for you at the ranch? How so?”

  DJ sighed heavily and her shoulders suddenly drooped.

  Clayton’s urge to protect her overrode his hesitation. “She’s right,” he said. “It doesn’t make sense, and that fire could have been an accident. You have no cause to take her in. She came here to make a living, not cause more trouble.”

  The officer looked doubtful and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Clayton, the fire seems to have started in her room. She has a record of this kind of thing, and King said one of the employees heard you two arguing nearly just before. It looks bad.” The sheriff turned to DJ. “Will you come back to the station with me and make a formal statement?”

  Her shoulders slumped, like she had given up. “Fine,” she said.

  Clayton, disturbed, trailed them outside the front of the bar. Tom opened the back door of his cruiser and DJ got in. Tom looked eastward toward the motel and the large plume of smoke rising high into the air. Clayton glanced down into the back of the police cruiser. Dina Jo was crying.

  He pleaded with the officer. “Tom, come on. We’ve known each other for a long time now. I give you my word she didn’t do this. Anything could have started that fire. The motel’s old. The wiring could have sparked.” He thought about it more. “Did you ask Kirk about the other people staying there? There was a break in a week or two ago, the room next door to hers. Did you ask him about it?”

  “I remember a report coming in, but Kirk himself didn’t mention it to me.” Tom paused, thoughtful.

  “Look, this just happened. It wasn’t like you caught her on the road halfway out of town or anything. She was here. She deserves more time before you place the blame on her. Come on, man,” Clayton pleaded.

  The officer nodded slightly, then said, “Fine. But promise me neither of you will leave the bar until I say so, you understand? I’m going to make some calls and then head back over there to see if they found anything.” He pointed at Clayton. “I’m trusting you to keep an eye on her.” He pulled out his phone and walked away.

  DJ slid back out of the car, sniffled, and wiped moisture from her cheeks. “Thanks,” she whispered to Clayton.

  He nodded. There were things to consider—the ranch, the motel, how distracted he’d been since this woman had come into his life. He’d missed something obvious, and this was the result. They went back into the bar and sat at a table across from each other.

  He sat with his forehead down on the table, hands clasped, looking down at his feet, thinking and thinking. DJ wasn’t the only new person in town, he remembered. He got up suddenly.

  “What is it?” DJ asked, but he was already on the move.

  He ran outside to find the sheriff. “Tom, wait.”

  The officer turned, took his phone from his ear, and said, “Yeah?”

  “Did you ask King which employee heard us fighting?”

  “He mentioned an Adam.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked.

  Tom nodded, turned away again. “How are thing looking over at the motel?” he asked into the phone.

  Clayton went back inside and sat across from DJ. “Do you know where Adam is staying? Do you know if he catches a ride with anyone after work?”

  She frowned and shook her head. “No. He never mentioned.”

  Clayton went behind the bar and grabbed the phone there. “Left my cell in the truck,” he murmured to DJ, who looked at him in puzzlement. He had a feeling, a goddamn strong feeling.

  Chapter Ten

  DJ watched intently while Clayton waited for King to pick up the office line.

  “King,” he began.

  She listened, hoping whatever Clayton was thinking would pan out. She thought about Adam. She’d drunk enough beers with him, but he seemed like the quiet type and she had never really thought to ask him where he was staying or how he was getting to and from work. There was an employee truck that ran back to town most nights, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Adam take it. She’d been distracted by this thing—which was all she could bring herself to call it—with Clay. Fear still buzzed in her ears. She’d nearly been put in cuffs. A reality where she went back to prison was so unthinkable that her stomach turned over. How had this happened? First the missing money, and now this fire. What was happening? She tried to distract herself from the fearsome nerves by listening in on Clayton’s call.

  “No, we’re fine. She’s fine. We’re at Ronny’s.” He paused, listening. “I know. I know,” he said, his voice lowered. “Look, I need you to look at the paperwork and ask around to see where Adam’s been staying and what he does when he’s not working.” A pause. “Because I got a feeling, King,” he said in a voice more stern than DJ had ever heard him use with his partner. Another pause. “Listen, no one’s been seeing him come or go or—” He nodded. “Yeah. We will, we just need to make sure everything’s square from now on…”

  It seemed like hours they were sitting in the bar. She felt each minute like some hellish limbo. Occasionally Clayton tried to say something to make her feel better but it only scratched the surface. She hadn’t realized how much she had grown to like this short, free life she’d started in this no-name town surrounded by prairie and brown, grassy hills and big old trees and starlight. She had the overwhelming urge to go
outside and see the stars, like it might be her last chance, even though it wasn’t dark yet.

  He broke into her thoughts. “Hey, that tune you were humming to Sadie the night she got out … what was that?”

  She frowned and thought about it. “Are you kidding? It was ‘All The Pretty Horses.’ Don’t you know that rhyme?”

  He nodded. “Right. Sure.”

  “I used to sing it to the baby to get her to sleep.” DJ pushed those thoughts away. No point in being in that much pain, so she thought about the horses instead. “I wish I’d done more work with Sadie,” she said to Clayton.

  He looked surprised but nodded thoughtfully. “She does seem to like you more than anyone.”

  DJ shrugged. “The other horses seemed on their way well enough. But she—I don’t know if she could be rehabilitated, though.” Her voice came out small and sad, more than she’d intended.

  “You don’t?” Clayton asked.

  She shook her head slowly. “No. She’s far too broken. She’ll probably always be standing in a corner, stomping at her ghosts.”

  Clayton stayed silent.

  “If I had the money…” DJ chuckled a little. “And a house, and a barn, I’d keep her. Just let her live comfortable, without expecting her to change much.” A small smile lit her face. “She’s pretty enough to look at. Pretty to draw.”

  He shrugged. “There might be something we can do for her, still.”

  “Yeah, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe she could use more open space.”

  He considered this. “Yeah, maybe we could try letting her out more. We weren’t before because she was so darn hard to get back in the corral, but we could manage.”

  DJ sighed with relief at knowing Sadie had some freedom coming to her. She thought for a moment, glanced around to see if Ronny was nearby, and when she saw he wasn’t, looked Clayton right in the eye.

  “I know I’m hard, Clay. I know I’m stubborn. But I know how that horse feels.” She took a deep breath, working up some courage. “I came here to get away from so much, wanting to be free again. I honestly didn’t care where I ended up when I first got out. But this little town and the countryside and the breeze and the trees…” Her voice cracked.