No Getting Over a Cowboy

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No Getting Over a Cowboy Page 21

by Delores Fossen


  “Liar, liar, pants on fire,” his mom mumbled. “But thank you.”

  Of course, now he would have to live with the rumors that he was having sex with a woman twenty years older than he was, but it’d been worth it to see that gob-smacked look on Ellie’s face.

  When they stepped into Clay’s office, Nicky stood, immediately going to his mother and hugging her.

  “Thank you for coming,” Belle told her. Now, the tears came to her eyes. “Sophie had a business meeting that she couldn’t get out of, but I’m so glad you’re here. I hope you don’t believe the awful thing that man’s niece said about me.”

  “I don’t.” And Nicky said it without a shred of doubt.

  Garrett didn’t have doubts, either, but Belle was his mother. He wondered what had caused this faith in Nicky.

  Then, he saw the shirt.

  There was no mistaking that plaid. Either this was the dead guy’s missing shirt or else it was an eerie coincidence.

  “Kaylee found it,” Nicky explained. “It was in the trunk of clothes in her room. Along with his wallet and some pearls. I can’t be sure, though, that the pearls went with the shirt or wallet. It could have just been in the trunk along with the other things.”

  Clay nodded in agreement. “According to his driver’s license,” the chief went on, “his name was Donny Ray Pittman. His family last saw him twenty-one years ago, which meshes with the date on the receipt. He was a widower and a minister, originally from New Orleans, but he’d been living in San Antonio shortly before he disappeared. In fact, his family didn’t report him missing because they thought he moved to Mexico or someplace else to do missionary work.”

  Obviously, his mom was having some trouble processing all of that because she groped behind her, feeling for a chair, and when she located one, she sank down onto it. “Donny Ray Pittman,” she repeated. “I’ve never heard that name before. What was he doing on the ranch?”

  “We don’t know yet, but I’m hoping his family will be able to remember something about that.”

  Garrett hoped that, too, but he had a question of his own. Several of them. “Why didn’t the CSIs find that shirt? And who the hell is Felix Drummond? Was that some kind of alias that Donny Ray was using?”

  But that last question didn’t make sense. Because his niece knew him as Felix, not Donny Ray.

  It hit Garrett then.

  “That woman wasn’t his niece,” Garrett concluded.

  “She wasn’t,” Clay verified. “She had an uncle named Felix all right. He passed away of a heart attack and is buried in Houston. He was never a missing person, and there’s absolutely nothing to connect him to Wrangler’s Creek or your ranch.”

  Even with the extra info, it took Garrett a few seconds to piece this together. “Candy was trying to scam my mother?”

  “Looks that way,” Clay verified. “Or maybe she’s just one of those people out for attention. Either way, I suspect you’ll be getting a call or visit from her soon. She might want money to stay quiet.”

  Hell. He wanted to wring this Candy’s neck for doing this. That witch had put his mother through a nightmare and all for money or attention? “Can you arrest her for this?”

  “I’d love to, but right now the only charges I’d have against her are lying to a cop. She’d get a slap on the wrist. Plus, she could always claim that her uncle did have a ring like that but she was mistaken about the name of his lover.” Clay paused long enough to gather his breath. “And as for the CSIs, there were plenty of places they had to search, and I guess they just didn’t look deep enough in that trunk.”

  Probably because they would have expected it to be closer to the top since no one had been living in the house when Donny Ray had been there. That didn’t explain why this man had put the shirt in the trunk. Or if it was even he who did. No way to know that unless they found out why he’d come to the ranch.

  His mother moved to the edge of her seat. “But why would this woman say that I was the one cavorting with her uncle? How did she even know my name?”

  “The Grangers are rich,” Clay reminded her. “She could have read about the body being found, and with just a little research, she could have figured out that you would be about the right age to have had an affair. An affair that you still wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know about after all these years.”

  True. And someone out there might feel the same way. They might want to keep an affair hidden. But who? Because it certainly wasn’t his mother.

  “I’m so sorry,” Nicky said, and that’s when he noticed there were tears in her eyes, too. “I didn’t think of something like this happening.”

  Probably because he was still reeling from the other things he’d just learned, Garrett didn’t make the connection right away. But Nicky was blaming herself for posting anything about the dead man’s ring on social media.

  He went to her, pulling her into his arms, and he brushed a kiss on her forehead. It was a seamless gesture, so easy and natural that Clay and his mom seemed to pick up on the intimate vibe right away. Of course, his mother already had an inkling of that vibe because of the panties.

  “You didn’t know this would happen,” Garrett assured her.

  “You were only trying to help,” his mother added, and she got in on the hug, as well.

  “But I should have known it could attract someone crazy,” Nicky insisted.

  Clay shook his head. “Hey, I didn’t pick up on anything crazy, and I’m a cop. My suggestion is for you to keep an eye out for her, and if she shows up or calls, get in touch with me right away.”

  They would. But that left Garrett with yet one more question. “Are we sure our John Doe is really Donny Ray Pittman?”

  “Not yet, but now we can get his dental records to see if there’s a match. I’ll also start showing his picture around town. Someone might remember seeing him.”

  In a way it felt as if they were back at the beginning, but now that Clay had a photo, it would help. Of course, that still might not explain what the man was doing at the ranch so Garrett would look back in old employment records and see if the guy had ever worked for them.

  “There’s no need to fingerprint your mother,” Clay went on. “In fact, why don’t you go ahead and take her back home?”

  “Yes,” his mother softly agreed. “I think I’d like to go get those crabs now.”

  Garrett figured it wasn’t a good idea to advise her against that. Maybe she needed to do some party planning to get her mind off all the other things.

  She hugged Nicky, and Garrett opened the door for both Nicky and his mom, but Nicky shook her head. “I need to talk to Clay a little while longer,” she said. “Paperwork.”

  Since Clay hadn’t asked him or Belle to do any paperwork, he was instantly suspicious. But then, maybe Clay wanted her to sign something since Kaylee had been the one to find the items.

  He stepped out and shut the door, but his mother didn’t head for the exit. “I need to go to the little girl’s room,” she said. But since that required her to walk right past Ellie, Garrett wondered if Belle also wanted to dole out a little nanny-nanny-boo-boo expression.

  Garrett had already had his Ellie dig for the day, so he checked his phone instead, reading through the latest email on a cattle purchase. What he hadn’t intended to do was hear what Nicky was saying.

  But he did.

  “I think it’s time for me to get a restraining order,” she said.

  No way to unhear that, and even though Garrett knew it was wrong, he just stood there and listened.

  “Another flower delivery came,” Nicky added.

  The flowers. Yeah, he remembered those. He also remembered the stark expression they’d put on Nicky’s face. He’d suspected then that maybe she had some kind of stalker, and the restraining order went a long way towar
d proving that theory.

  Hell.

  Was someone trying to hurt her? It had to be more than just a persistent old lover or someone she’d rejected or she wouldn’t have come to Clay with it. It sickened him to think that she could be in danger.

  And, no, that didn’t have anything to do with them having sex.

  It went beyond that. Nicky had already been through too much to be put through another round by this flower-sending stalker.

  “I think it’s a smart move,” Clay answered. “These kinds of things can escalate. I think it would also be wise for you to alert the ranch hands and the other women in the house. And Garrett, of course.”

  Garrett didn’t catch what she said, but he hoped it was a yes, that she would indeed do that. But what if she didn’t? He could alert the hands himself, but he didn’t even have a description of this guy.

  Not yet anyway.

  But one way or the other, he would get it. This asshole, whoever he was, wasn’t getting near Nicky.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  PART OF NICKY wished this were one of her dreams. It wasn’t. But like the dreams, she found herself at her family’s old house. Why she’d stopped here, she didn’t know, but the house was like some kind of magnet that kept pulling her back.

  She wasn’t sure there were any answers or fixes here. Nothing to help with the nightmares, nothing she could use to repair herself. Still, she got out of her SUV and walked to the porch. Like the last time, she stopped on the second step.

  Maybe her need to be here had something to do with the restraining order she had just filed. Perhaps being in the police station had brought some of it back. Not that she’d spent much time there. She hadn’t been the one to file the original charges against her father. A schoolteacher had done that because, the night before, her father’s fist had missed the side of her head and had landed on her cheek.

  Nicky had tried to cover up the bruise, but there hadn’t been enough concealer to do that. She also hadn’t had the courage to go through with filing charges. Her mother had convinced her that the safest thing for her to do was to let it go. And Nicky had.

  Well, she’d let go of the charges anyway. Letting go of the shit he’d doled out wasn’t something she’d managed just yet.

  She forced herself up another step. Only one more to go, and then it was just a couple of feet to the front door. But she froze again. Too bad the freezing didn’t stop the images. In the blink of an eye, she was a teenager again. Beaten and broken. With little hope.

  Until Garrett.

  He’d given her an incredible amount of hope. And it didn’t matter that he had taken it away just a few weeks later. Garrett had been the one who’d taught her that she wasn’t all those names that her father had called her, that she was Nicky Henderson, someone capable of doing more than not crying out when punched.

  Nicky heard the sound of a car engine, and she immediately blinked back the tears. Unlike the nights when she’d been punched, she hadn’t managed the fine art of not crying all these years later. She hoped it wasn’t Garrett. No way did she want him to see her like this.

  Thankfully, it was Gina, and she had Kaylee with her. They were out of Gina’s car and were making their way to her.

  That dried up her tears faster than anything could have. Garrett might have been the one to give her hope, but her daughter had given her the real love she’d never had.

  “Are you okay?” Gina asked her.

  “Fine.” This time it was only a partial lie. And Nicky walked off the steps so she could hug her little girl.

  Or rather the little girl who was now hers.

  One day, she’d have to tell Kaylee the truth.

  One day.

  * * *

  CRABS.

  There were at least two dozen of them in an aluminum tub filled with ice, and they were still alive and moving. Nicky wasn’t sure how Belle had managed to get them, and she didn’t especially want to thank the woman for it, either. Even though Belle had included a note with the delivery that Alice and she would be by that afternoon to prepare them for the party tonight, that meant Nicky had to store them for a couple of hours. Not an easy feat, what with the fridge already crammed full of other foods that needed to be prepped.

  The next time she got an idea to throw a party, Nicky intended to go to the pasture, find a large rock and hit herself on the head with it. But maybe her lousy mood had more to do with her visit to the police station and the old house than it did with live crustaceans.

  Still, the crabs were contributing to this mess in their own way. So was the fact that Nicky seemed to be the sole person on kitchen duty today.

  Where was Loretta when Nicky needed her? Or any of the women for that matter? It seemed as if all of them were giving the kitchen a wide berth. Maybe because they, too, had lost their enthusiasm for this joyous event that was now only eight hours away.

  “Who am I?” Kaylee said, running into the kitchen. She twirled, of course, still obviously thrilled with this game that now made Nicky’s stomach knot. She couldn’t help remembering the last outfit, the one that’d belonged to the dead guy.

  There was a bright spot in Kaylee having found that, though. Now they knew that Candy—if that was even her real name—was a liar and a possible scammer. Nicky wouldn’t forgive herself for allowing that woman into the Grangers’ lives, but maybe this would be the end of it. At least the end of Felix Drummond. Now they had to find out if and how Donny Ray fit into all this.

  “Who am I?” Kaylee repeated, outstretching her arms.

  She was wearing jeans, a plain white top, flip flops that were many sizes too big for her. Her hair was in a ponytail, though more of it was out of the scrunchie than in it. Kaylee pointed to her face, specifically to the deep frown that was on her mouth.

  Nicky was certain that only deepened her own frown.

  “You’re Mommy,” Nicky said.

  Judging from the way Kaylee squealed, she was right. She was definitely in the frowning, moping zone. Again.

  Her rotten mood was one of the reasons Nicky had wanted to come here, and apparently she still had some searching to do to find her happy place. The only time she felt it was when she was with Kaylee. And Garrett. But she couldn’t stay in an orgasmic state with him forever.

  Nicky scooped up Kaylee, gave her a big sloppy kiss, and it improved both their expressions. When she put the little girl back down, Kaylee went running off, probably to find another set of clothes with which to play dress up. Nicky intended to join her, but first she had to make room in the fridge for the crabs.

  “There you are,” someone said, coming into the kitchen. Cassie. She’d likely just finished the group session. The one that Nicky had missed for the third time in a row. “You look busy.”

  Good. That was better than looking unhappy. “Just getting ready for tonight’s party. Apparently, we’re having crabs. If they don’t escape first.” Several had broken the rubber band restraints on their claws.

  Cassie smiled in that soft way that only therapists and good grade school teachers could manage. Nicky felt a lecture coming on, except it wouldn’t actually feel like a lecture, more like a life lesson.

  “I have three kids, a dream job and an equally dreamy husband,” Cassie said. “He made the Ellery sisters’ best endowed list,” she added.

  Now Nicky smiled. “Lucky McCord. Yes, I’ve seen him.” Though she hadn’t paid any attention to the endowed part. Well, not much attention anyway.

  “Then you know I’m truly lucky.” Cassie’s smile faded. “I suspect you didn’t get that luck factor in your family or relationships, and that’s why I’d like for you to continue with the sessions—either group or private ones.”

  Yep, a life lesson, and judging from the way Cassie offered her services, she had an inkling as to what
had gone on. “You heard about my father?”

  Cassie shrugged. “I’ve heard some things.” She walked closer. “My father is an asshole who owns a strip club called the Slippery Pole. My mother’s on her sixth marriage. So, obviously I didn’t get the luck in the parent department. No physical abuse, just some bullying and neglect. Would you like some advice on how to get past it?”

  Nicky was suddenly hanging on every word. Cassie was a respected therapist. In fact, she’d once had a hugely successful practice that catered to celebrities.

  “I’m listening,” Nicky assured her.

  “Well, this is a treatment you probably won’t find in a textbook, but it’s worked for me. You should go to the place that gives you the most grief. The one that comes to you in nightmares. And you stand there, and while staring it down, you invite all the demons to step up.”

  Nicky was totally on board until that last part. “Excuse me?”

  Cassie gave a confirming nod. “You invite those demons to show you their wrinkly demon balls. Since you’re about to show them yours. Trust me, your balls are bigger than theirs—metaphorically speaking, of course. Because they’re just old watery demons, and you’re a woman with what is now a luck-filled life.”

  She had indeed had some luck. With Kaylee. With her career. With this house.

  “And after you’ve brought forth those demons,” Cassie continued, “then, you yell these words in a very loud, firm voice. ‘Screw you, asshole,’” and then she whispered in Nicky’s ear, “‘Screw you in the ass! And screw all those other demon assholes with you!’”

  Cassie pulled back, shrugged. “I’m not sure why, but there’s something cathartic about shouting the curse words.”

  Nicky was certain she looked skeptical. “And that works?” she asked.

  “It did for me. Of course, I was yelling at a strip club that had a neon sign with blinking boobs so I didn’t draw that much attention. Still, I got my point across—that I didn’t intend to let the past take another dump on me. My current life is too good for that shit.”

 

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