Bad Bones (Claire Morgan)

by Linda Ladd

  Impatient, he wished she’d just turn around so he could see her face. He sure did want to see her up close, that was for damn sure. Then finally, she did turn slightly when she reached up for another apple. That’s when his breath hitched a little inside his chest. God, she was just so pretty, as pretty as any of those Hollywood stars with all their makeup and sexy pouts. She had the palest skin he had ever seen, even whiter than his ma’s had been, and his ma’s had been the color of fresh milk. He did remember that a lot of people in his ma’s family had pale skin and that same white-as-angels hair, and he adjusted his scope again, trying to see what color her eyes were. He found himself wanting to jump down off that blind and climb that barbed wire fence and run down the hill and look at her up close. Bones was still asleep, wasn’t he? So why not?

  Making certain that he was extra quiet and didn’t make a sound, not wanting to share the girl with Bones, he climbed down to the ground, vaulted the fence, rifle still in his hand. He headed straight for the pretty girl with the flowers on her skirt, making noise when he got closer so that he wouldn’t frighten her away. She didn’t hear him until he was almost to her, and then she whirled around and looked really scared. She started backing away.

  “Don’t be afraid. I ain’t gonna hurt you. I just saw you gatherin’ up these here apples, and I thought you might let me have one. I love me them apples.”

  He grinned and tried to look harmless, but he was pretty big standing next to her and his face was pretty rough and busted up from his last fight so he wasn’t sure how she’d take to him. She didn’t say anything for a minute, just looked at his face. She also looked a little upset when she saw the long gun he was clutching in his fist. So he laid it down on the ground, all gentlelike, and said, real calm-like. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, or nothin’. Truly, I’m not.”

  “Where did you come from?” she finally said.

  “Up yonder, on the other side of that property line. My brother and me is huntin’ turkeys up there in that blind.”

  “So you’re one of them,” she said, looking more interested.

  “Yeah. I guess so.”

  “What’s your name then?”

  He told her, and then he said, “What’s yours?”

  She told him, and he said, “Wow, that’s a right pretty name, sure is.”

  Then she smiled, and it sorta lit up her whole face and made her shine even more. She looked just like the floating angels in his ma’s Bible, all white and sweet and soft. “You are really pretty, you know that? Like an angel come down from heaven.”

  She laughed a little, a real fine sound, and her super white skin got a little pink in the cheeks. But she looked pleased and no longer afraid of him. “Thank you.” She lowered her long white lashes. She was pretty shy, really. “So are you.”

  “Men ain’t pretty,” he said, frowning and slightly offended at first, but not enough to leave her company and go back home. He liked this girl already. He had a feeling he was gonna like girls in general. They sure weren’t like boys. Or that older woman Bones spied on. He looked down at the girl’s pert little titties pushing out the front of her dress and how soft her lips looked. He wanted to lick her all over and see how she tasted. He bet she tasted like strawberry shortcake and whipped cream.

  “Well, you are. You’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

  He frowned some more, thinking that made him sound weak and sort of stupid, maybe. Then she handed him a big juicy apple. He took a big bite. “Hey, this is real tasty. Real juicy and stuff. Sweet, too.”

  “How come you don’t go to the high school down in town like we do?”

  “Pa homeschools us. Wish we did, though. It gets lonely out there with just my brothers the only ones around.”

  “My girl cousins say that you and your brothers are all real handsome and stuff. You know, real hotties. They say that you all look so much alike that it’s hard to tell you apart. Sometimes they watch you with binoculars when you guys are baling hay out in your field by the lake, you know, the one near that old collapsed mine shaft. You know, when you get all sweaty and dirty and take off your shirts.”

  “Really? No shit?” But he wondered why they wanted to watch sweaty guys get all dirty. He just didn’t see it. But it made him want to take off his shirt and work up some sweat, just for her. Then he thought about her with her shirt off and getting all dirty with sweat dripping off her, and he suddenly got what she meant. He felt it down in his pants, too. Whoa, this girl was something else entirely. She almost made his mouth water.

  She looked startled, and he figured that was because of his cuss word. “I’m sorry for talkin’ like that to a lady like you. I’m not used to bein’ around girls yet. Sorry.”

  Then she smiled up at him and her tongue swiped a wet path all around her pink lips, and he felt like his knees were gonna give way and go all weak and wobbly on him. That sure hadn’t ever happened to him before. This here girl was a whole new ballgame.

  “How’d you get those bruises and cuts on your face?” she asked him.

  “We’re cage fighters. All of us. Good ones, too. Especially me and Bones. We win every match.”

  “Bones? That’s a funny name.”

  “He likes to break people’s bones when he fights ’em.”

  “Why? That’s gross.”

  “Yeah, I know. Don’t know why. He just does. Makes him feel tough, I guess.” He didn’t want her to think he was gross, too, so he quickly said, “He likes it more than I do.”

  “You mean that it makes him feel, like, well, like he’s invincible?”

  A little embarrassed, he frowned. “What’s ‘invincible’ mean?”

  “That means that nobody can beat you.”

  “Well, that pretty much describes Bones, all right.” He laughed. Invincible, he’d have to remember that word.

  “What about you?”

  “I’m gettin’ better, but I don’t like hittin’ people as much as he does. Unless I don’t like them, then it’s fine, I guess.”

  “I think I’d like you a lot better than I’d like Bones.”

  Grinning, he sure hoped so. “That’s good ’cause I already like you a lot.”

  She smiled up at him. “I like you, too, but I guess I gotta go back home now. Mama’s expecting me to bring in these apples for some pies. You can take some of them home with you, too, if you want. We don’t mind. We got a whole orchard full.”

  “You sure? Pa says you people don’t like us hangin’ around over on your property. We used to get whupped if he ever caught us crossing over on your land, even way back there in woods where the river runs.”

  “Well, you’re different. I like you. You can come over here any time you want. I will even make you a pie, if you want me to.”

  That’s when he felt another kind of thrill go through his loins, one he hadn’t experienced much yet, except in his dreams. But it was her. She did it. She was just so darned pretty and nice and made pies. “I like you, too. A whole lot. I’d like an apple pie, especially if you make it for me.”

  “Then I will, and I’ll bring it up here and give it to you. But now, I guess that I better get going, or Papa will come lookin’ for me. I’m not so sure he’d want me out here alone with you. Maybe he’d be afraid you’d try to kiss me, or something.”

  They smiled at each other again, and he wondered if she meant that she wanted him to kiss her. He was sure all for that, if that’s what she wanted, too. Then he said, “Hey, I know. Why don’t you come up here around this time every day? That way, we can talk and get to know each other some more. And eat that pie you’re gonna make for me.”

  She grinned really big, apparently liking the sound of that, too. “Maybe I will,” she said with a little toss of her braid. “Bye, now.”

  “Bye.”

  Punk watched her go until she was out of sight, and then he reluctantly trudged back up the hill, vaunted over the fence, and climbed back up onto the tree blind. Bones was just then sitting up and yawni
ng. “Where you been?”

  “I just took a little walk, lookin’ for turkey scratchin’ and such.”

  “Well, get back up here or you’ll scare them toms away. Pa’ll make us eat bologna sandwiches again, if we don’t bring in a big one.”

  So Punk settled back beside his brother with his rifle across his knees and watched the clearing below. But he was only thinking of the girl with the white hair and white skin and soft mouth. He liked her. A whole, whole lot. Maybe he even loved her already. Yeah, maybe he was in love, just like those bold and beautiful soap opera folks.

  Chapter Seven

  When Claire and Bud returned again to the sheriff’s office, they got out together and slammed their doors shut with lots of feeling. The temperature was dropping; their breaths were pluming with renewed vigor in the cold air, white and smoky and wintry. They checked in with the sheriff, got what they needed for their out-of-town interviews, and then exited the building ten minutes later. They both stopped short when they saw Brianna Swensen standing across the lot, right beside Bud’s Bronco. In her white furry parka, she looked as tall and willowy and blond and beautiful as ever. Bud just stood there, frozen in place, staring at his long-lost girlfriend.

  After a long moment, Claire said the obvious. “There’s Bri, Bud. You gonna talk to her?”

  Bud didn’t look so sure about that, or anything else. Claire felt for him. She didn’t like surprises, either. “Want me to go talk to her?” she offered and hoped to hell he said no. She wasn’t good at letting people down easy, or hard either, truth be told. And she liked Brianna a lot. Brianna had been a victim of violence, and it had just taken the poor girl a long time to come to terms with it. Bud just couldn’t understand why that would be a reason to take off and leave him behind. And Brianna had hurt Bud deeply when she had done just that. Claire did not like anybody to hurt Bud, not ever, not for any reason, period, so she was on his side, no matter how their relationship turned out.

  “No, but thanks for the offer. I need to talk to her, I guess. She and Shaggy just sprung this on me, is all. Guess I’m sorta shell-shocked to see her back and standin’ over there, like nothin’ ever happened.”

  “Listen, why don’t you go on over there and talk to her? Go someplace private. Let her explain things to you. Don’t worry about me. I’ll call Black. He can pick me up or send somebody over here to get me. Talk to her, Bud. Fix it, one way or the other. That’s what you always said you wanted. So here’s your chance.”

  Bud was still staring at Brianna. She waited, staring back at him. She had a worried look on her face but she still looked like some heavenly creature who would model fluttery white wings in a Victoria Secret’s fashion extravaganza. “Thanks, Claire. I mean it. I owe you.”

  “No problem. And no, you don’t owe me.” She stepped back inside the door where it was warm and sheltered from the freezing wind. As she dialed Black’s private line, she watched Bud walk slowly across the parking lot. He stopped a few yards away from Brianna, as if afraid to get too close. His hands were stuffed in his pockets. They talked a moment and then Claire breathed a heavy sigh of relief when they both got into his Bronco and drove away. They needed to hash it out. It was complicated. And they’d waited way too long.

  “Yeah, Claire? You okay?” said Black, instead of hello.

  Black always expected the worst now, and rightfully so. Since he’d hooked up with her, they’d had nothing but psychos and murderers and monsters in their lives. Good thing it hadn’t scared him off. At least, not yet, anyway.

  “Guess who’s back in town?”

  “Oh, God, who? Not some serial killer, I hope.”

  “Not this time. Brianna Swensen. Bud’s talking to her right now.”

  “No kidding? Well, good. They need to talk it out. It’s been a long time since she left town.”

  “Hey, you busy?”

  “I’m just finishing up with my last patient. Why?”

  “How about picking me up at the office?”

  “Nothing I’d like better.”

  “Well, hurry it up. I’m cold and tired and cranky.”

  “Terrific. I just love it when you’re like that.”

  Claire had to laugh at his dry tone. Her foul moods weren’t exactly fun to be around, and she knew it. She was trying her best to be less impatient lately; at least she was when she was around him.

  “So why the cranky thing? If I might ask without fear of unpleasant repercussions?”

  “I’ll tell you when you get here. Just make it as quick as you can. If Charlie sees me hangin’ around here, he might assign me more paperwork.”

  “You got it. Be watching for me.”

  He clicked off then, and she sat down in a chair in the lobby beside the front door and settled in for at least a thirty-minute wait. With snow and ice on the curves and hills around the lake, it might take him even longer than that. But that was okay. She had a lot of thinking to do. She spent some time studying the list of cage fighters, which had about fifty names on it. Once she zeroed in on the local guys that Skippy Boy had circled, and the other ones hailing from Missouri, she had whittled it down to about twenty, fifteen of them from the immediate lake area and the surrounding cities of Springfield, Columbia, and Sedalia. Five of the fighters were from Branson. Some of their fellow detectives could help interview most of them.

  After she got back from her assignment in St. Louis, she was going to head for the boonies and any child abusers she might find out there. And they were going to pay if they had hurt one single hair on one single child’s head, count on it. Exactly nine minutes after she’d hung up with Black, she heard the dull thumps of helicopter rotors and realized that it had to be Black in his chopper, making one of his grand yet rather embarrassing entrances. Jeez. All the sheriff’s office personnel in the lobby were looking out the windows and then turning around and grinning at her. She walked out the front door and realized that he was putting down at the deserted end of the parking lot with a great deal of blowing snow and racket. A couple of patrol officers were outside, standing beside their car doors. They shaded their eyes and watched the copter land with Black’s usual skillful precision.

  One of them caught sight of her. “Wow, Morgan, so now you got yourself a personal helo to pick you up? Guess that matches that million-dollar ring you hide away inside your shirt.”

  That came from Josh Cutter, an old friend of hers, so she only smiled, but it was a tight smile. “Come on, guys. Cut it out or I won’t invite you to my all-your-expenses-paid wedding in Hawaii.”

  “Yeah,” called out his partner. “Oh, by the way, I forgot my flashlight so can I borrow your engagement ring?”

  “Ha-ha,” she called back over her shoulder. “You two are just a riot.”

  They laughed at her and shook their heads, but they were only teasing. She knew that, because she had gotten a lot of the same kind of good-natured ribbing every single day since she let it be known that she was Nicholas Black’s main squeeze. So she made her way out to the helicopter, bending down low to avoid the wild wind thrown off the spinning blades, sliding the diamond back onto her left ring finger as she trudged along. She climbed in, and Black handed her a pair of aviator sunglasses and a headset. She quickly put them on and clicked her seat belt. Now that the sun was out and reflecting off the snow, the glare was almost blinding.

  “Well, talk about embarrassing, Black. I meant for you to come get me in the Humvee.”

  “You said you were cold and in a hurry and in a foul mood. And I mean to please.”

  “Well, you do please.”

  “I know.”

  She laughed at that arrogant little bit of masculine self-confidence. “So, tell me, how would you like to go on a little weekend side trip to St. Louis?”

  He glanced over at her as they lifted slowly off the ground. “Just the two of us? Well, hell, yeah. I’d like that a lot. Why do you ask?”

  “I gotta do some interviews over there. Maybe we can squeeze in a little qui
ckie romantic holiday, too, when I’m not on the clock. I’ve got to be there on Friday and Saturday and maybe Sunday, too, depending.”

  “If you’re serious about that quickie, I’ll make the time, although I don’t usually do quickies. We can go right now. I’m gassed up and ready to roll. I’ll call for clearance and a flight plan.”

  “Whoa, slow down. We’ve got to pack our bags, get our stuff. Take Jules over to Cedar Bend for the weekend.”

  “He’s already there. I took him in with me this morning after you left with Bud. We can buy whatever clothes we need when we get there. I’ll have Miki call for reservations at the Ritz-Carlton.”

  “A weekend’s worth of clothes for both of us? That’s gonna add up. Seems pretty extravagant to me.”

  Black merely laughed as if that was just-oh-so-silly. “Maybe we can visit a couple of bridal shops while we’re there. You have a wedding gown to choose, remember?”

  God, did he have a one-track mind, or what? She didn’t answer, but she remembered, all right. She had a feeling his choice of wedding apparel wouldn’t exactly jibe with her choice, especially the figures on the price tag. And she wanted to pay for it herself. She wanted to pay for the whole wedding herself, which Black was not going to like one little bit. But too bad. On the other hand, why get into all that right now? She had an ongoing investigation to think about, a bad one that needed her entire concentration.

  The snowstorm had completely whirled off in its ferocity toward other unlucky climes, and the sun was brilliant and warm, so their flight east was uneventful. Claire kept her eyes focused on the ground far below. Everything looked like a winter painting, all white, all glistening. It seemed that the whole state of Missouri was smothered with a pristine and sparkling smooth white vanilla icing, everywhere, mounds and mounds, covering the trees and the roofs and the fields. At least it looked that way until the city of St. Louis came into view, and then the magical scene turned into dirty snowbanks along highways and honking traffic jams and crowds of bundled-up people scurrying about their business. They set down at Lambert International Airport, got a limo into downtown, and purchased tickets to the cage fights.