by Robena Grant
After a lunch of cottage cheese and fruit, and a quick flip through the newspaper, she knew it was no use staying inside. The day had turned gorgeous, one of those winter days the desert was famous for, with warm sunshine, a cloudless blue sky, and a gentle breeze. She felt restless and fidgety. There were still about two hours left before her date with Jack. Rachel would be at Cliffs already. She’d be doing her books. Debbie sighed. She should take care of her own books but couldn’t shame herself into working; to heck with that.
After showering, she applied make-up, taking more care than she had in years, but careful not to overdo the effect. With the little touch of color she’d gained from being outside for half the day, her face had a healthy and radiant glow. She needed more information from Jack. So far she hadn’t come up with any clues. Other than that the one person who had been acting strangely was Wendy. But was Wendy always strange? She didn’t really know the young woman. She’d moved away to go to college. She’d met her once or twice when she visited Betty.
She pulled on a sage green top with three quarter length sleeves and a deep V-neckline that showed a shadow of cleavage. Then she shimmied into tight jeans, and deciding against those, peeled them off and tried on a short flirty skirt in black and cream and sage green.
Am I trying too hard? Will Jack suspect I’m up to something other than seducing him?
She knew Jack would like what he saw. And seducing him for information would not be a chore. She slipped on black heels and left her suntanned legs bare. Silver hoop earrings, a watch and a pair of black rimmed sunglasses with rhinestone sunbursts at the sides, her black suede jacket over her arm, and yep, she was ready for some Sunday evening action.
Rachel would have a field day with her appearance. She’d know what was going on with Jack. Debbie twirled in front of the mirror, and smiled. How long had it been since she’d worn a skirt? Then before she could change her mind, she shoved the car keys in her jacket pocket and turned off the light. She picked up the small bag she’d packed, and slung the straps of her purse over one shoulder, and locked her front door.
The bag had a change of underwear, toilet articles, nightshirt, blue jeans, another top, and a pair of flat shoes.
She was sleeping in the spa.
Sunday night would be perfect for someone to try to break in again. The entire mall shut down by eight o’clock on Sundays. Jack could make his own decision on whether or not he joined her. A telltale flutter of rapid heartbeats ran up her throat. Who was she kidding? If she had anything to do with it, he’d be staying there too.
Chapter Eleven
Debbie arrived at Cliffs, over an hour early for their date. She pulled into the parking lot and noticed Dave’s car parked out front. There were two other cars there too, one she didn’t recognize, and the other a Mercedes. With a quick glance back at the license plate, she realized it was Zeke and Dena’s car and wondered what they were here for.
She stared around the almost empty back parking lot, and pulled into a spot reserved for employees. There’d been no sign of Jack’s vehicle out front, and feeling disappointed, although she knew it was too early, she hurried across the blacktop to the rear service entrance.
A movement near a white van caught her attention and she turned around. The van had been parked off to one side, beneath a shady tree. Jean clad legs stuck out from beneath it, on the side closest to the bushes. She didn’t recognize the vehicle and probably shouldn’t go over there, but if the guy needed help she could use her cell phone. It was most likely a restaurant vendor. Besides, it was the neighborly thing to do.
“Hey, did you break down?” she asked, leaning down.
Trigger slid from beneath the van and stood, a frown furrowing his brow. His furtive glance swept the parking lot. “Nope. Checking—”
“Oh? This isn’t your van, is it?”
“What’s that to you?” He dusted off the seat of his jeans.
Debbie looked around. He could get nasty. She tried to keep a nonchalant air. “Nothing.” He’d taken a couple of steps closer and stood rubbing his hands together. She swallowed against the sudden dryness of her throat. “I thought you drove a truck, that’s all.”
There was nobody around. No one would hear her yell if he attacked her. He took another step closer, and then stopped and gave her his silly grin. “Ah, it’s Debbie. I couldn’t see who it was in the bright sunlight. Didn’t see you at Azul last night either.”
“Oh, I saw you,” Debbie said quickly. She swallowed hard again, relief swamping her that she wasn’t about to be hit over the head. “We didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Yeah, we had a party going on. Good times.”
“The food is marvelous, isn’t it?”
Trigger squinted, dug his sunglasses out of a pocket and slipped them onto the top of his head. “I never imagined that restaurant would be Cowboy’s choice.”
“Because it’s a gay bar?” Trigger laughed and seemed to relax. If he was gay, then he probably wasn’t a fighter. She almost smiled at her ridiculous generalities.
“Yeah, I figured he’d be a Morton’s Steakhouse guy.”
Debbie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s probably next on our list.”
“So, are you meeting him?” He appraised her again, but this time his eyes had softened.
“Yes. He’s inside.” She waved a hand toward Cliffs. “I think he’s with Deputy Stanton.” There was no harm in letting him know a cop was around.
“Yeah, I saw them go inside about an hour ago. Well,” he said, and walked over and slapped the side of the van. “I guess my buddy’s going to have to get himself a new muffler. I can’t fix this one. It’s got a hole the size of Texas in it, but I don’t see any other damage. At least he can drive it to the shop and save a towing fee.”
Debbie blinked hard. Jack was inside already? And if that was the Cabrera’s car out front, and she was certain it was, and Dave’s car was there, well damn it to hell they were all meeting without her. She wondered where the guy who owned the van had gone. And for that matter, where had Trigg parked his truck? She took in a couple of deep breaths. He might be telling the truth, but he might also be tampering with someone else’s vehicle. She’d report it to Dave, once she got inside the bar.
“Nice to see you again, Trigg,” she said, and waved as she hurried toward the back door. She turned. “Oh, do you need a lift?”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “I’ve got my bike.” He gestured to where a bike leaned up against a tree trunk. “Tell Janelle I’ll be in later, when they’re open.”
Debbie suppressed a shudder. She let the door close with a bang and strode through to Rachel’s office. “Is Janelle here yet?”
Rachel was seated at her desk, but didn’t look up. “Well, hello to you too, girlfriend.”
“Sorry,” Debbie said. “It’s—”
“No problem. I’m cranky because I’ve had so many damn interruptions today, and I’ve got a discrepancy in the books that I can’t damn well find.”
“I’ll help you later.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Rachel lifted her head for about one second. Her eyeglasses were perched precariously on the tip of her nose. She waved one arm around, flapping her hand, and then she readdressed her ledger and cussed up a storm. She started tapping numbers into the calculator. “Janelle is in the bar. The others are in the lounge.”
Debbie knew to leave her alone. She figured with the cuss storm, Rachel had found what she’d been searching for and now had to repair the damage. And speaking of damage she was about to do some of her own.
****
Jack saw Dena’s reaction and sensed movement behind him. He turned. Debbie marched toward the bar, where Janelle was setting up. She was beautiful: decked out in a skirt and heels, but angry as hell. He heard both women’s raised voices and crossed the room. He touched her elbow. “What’s wrong?”
Debbie shrugged him off. “Nothing.”
She pulled in a deep breath, and then blew it out.
And he noticed she kept her back to the booth across the lounge.
“Pretend like you don’t really know me very well.”
“You look gorgeous,” he said, speaking softly, and kept his own back to the booth where the others sat. He touched her shoulder. “So, why don’t I know you?”
“Don’t touch me, or act personal,” she whispered, then gave a small shrug. “I don’t want anyone to know, you know.”
“You smell good too,” Jack said, aware his body had leaned in toward her of its own accord. “Now tell me what’s up.” Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she took several deep breaths. At least she wasn’t wheezing.
“It’s that Trigg guy,” Debbie said, and scowled at Janelle.
“Mom, he’s okay,” Janelle said and lowered her voice.
Jack thought she was doing a good job of trying to communicate with her mother by using eye and facial movements. They had this whole non-verbal thing going on. He supposed families were like that. They could finish each other’s sentences too. Debbie seemed to relax a bit, or maybe she was acting that way. “He’s much nicer than you think, and he’s really intelligent,” Janelle continued.
“He wants to have breakfast tomorrow. That’s all.”
“And you’re going?” Debbie asked.
“I’m not sure. I told him I’d think about it, and that I’m going back to school on Tuesday, so things are a bit hectic. Why, when did you talk with him?”
Debbie looked over at him, and Jack smiled and he gave her a shrug of reassurance. “It’s probably okay.”
“Probably?”
Her voice held ice, and Jack raised his eyebrows at Janelle. Poor kid, she had a mother who wouldn’t let go and let her live her own life. He felt somewhat responsible because he’d asked Janelle to keep an eye on Trigg. She was doing what he wanted. But she couldn’t be attracted to Trigg, could she? She’d said he was intelligent. He’d seen glimmers of that too. But the guy had been in here drunk more times than sober, unless of course, that had been an act.
“Well we know he’s gay,” Jack said. “So I’d say there’s no harm in a date.”
Debbie swung around and glared at him. “Even with what we saw last night. There’s too much strange stuff going on here, and in some way it concerns my family. I’m not stupid. And I’m not about to let—”
“When did you talk to him?” Jack asked.
Debbie pouted a moment. Then she blew out a gust of air, and wriggled her shoulders. “A few minutes ago, in the parking lot, which reminds me, he was up to no good. He was underneath a van.”
“What?” Jack and Janelle both spoke at the same time, and moved closer to Debbie.
Jack shot Janelle a quick look warning her to stay out of the confrontation. She picked up on his cue and moved away, wiping down the already clean bar top. But he noticed that within seconds she was back within listening distance.
“So, tell me exactly what you saw,” Jack said, and turned his attention to Debbie.
Debbie told him the story.
Jack shrugged. “It could be the truth, and it could also be a vendor’s van.” He shut his mouth tight remembering the white van that had parked close to him in the dark parking lot, and how when he’d parked his car the driver had driven off.
“I’ll go and see,” Janelle said, moving down the bar. “Could be the same guy who was asking questions.”
“No, you won’t,” Debbie said, and hurried forward. She held tight to the top of the café bar doors.
Jack laughed. Those two were stubborn. Living in their household must be a constant battle of wills. “Did you get the license plate of the van, Debbie? We can see what the cops can find out.”
Debbie shook her head, her expression glum. “I forgot.”
“No problem. If it’s broken down, it’s still out there.”
He walked out the back door with Debbie close on his heels, and Janelle dogging their footsteps. “Nothing here,” he said, looking up and down the still almost empty parking lot.
“I knew it. I knew he’d lied. Damn it, I just—” Debbie shoved her fisted hands on her hips and glared at Janelle.
“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay,” Jack said, and then he pulled her into a hug. He met Janelle’s eyes, over the top of Debbie’s head, and gave her a sympathetic grimace. She smiled back. Then he hustled Deb back inside and indicated to Janelle that she should go behind the bar. They were really doing well with their silent communications.
“Come on, you’ve got to report this to Dave.” He walked Debbie through the lounge, skirting the empty tables and chairs. “I know you know Zeke and Dena, they won’t mind the interruption.”
“Are you having a meeting?”
“Dave’s getting me some help from the Cabreras.” He saw the tiny frown cross her brow and then disappear. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll explain later.”
She shoved away his hand, and walked over to the booth. Jack let her go, amused that she still needed to be in control. He’d let her have her say, play things her way. She couldn’t do much harm.
“Hey, you guys. Good to see you.” Debbie leaned down and kissed Dena’s cheek and wriggled her fingers at Zeke in a half wave. “I don’t want to interrupt. I’d just popped in to see Rachel and Janelle.”
Jack cleared his throat. “Tell Stanton your story.”
“I will.” She frowned at him, and then she turned toward Dave. “I saw suspicious activity going on outside. Jack said I should report it.”
“So go ahead, what’s up?”
Debbie filled him in on the happenings with Trigg. Finally Stanton stood up. “I’ll see what I can find out, but can’t make any promises. No plates,” he said, and shrugged.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Debbie said. “But I don’t trust the guy.”
“No problem. We’re done here. I’ll duck in and say goodbye to Rachel. She was nice enough to let us disturb her afternoon,” Stanton said. “Jack has a meeting out at Zeke’s place tomorrow, with a real estate agent friend of Dena’s. He’s going to look at buying the property behind them.”
“That huge place?” Debbie shot Jack a puzzled glance.
Damn. He’d wanted to explain things to Debbie, in his own way, and in his own time. And now Stanton was forcing the issue. He raised his brows then jiggled them.
“The asking price is like five million dollars, isn’t it?” she asked, and glared at Dena, who ducked her head and took a sip of soda.
“Not quite,” Jack said.
“Yeah,” Dave butted in. “But he might be able to negotiate down a bit.”
“Jack,” Debbie said, turning back to face him. “It’s none of my business but that’s a lot of money, and for someone who isn’t a farmer it doesn’t make sense. Don’t let people sway your judgment. Have you really thought this through?”
“Money’s no problem,” Jack said. And it wasn’t. Not if he used the inheritance from his mother’s father. The man who’d rejected her; the old man who’d never been a grandfather to him but who on his death bed had sent a private investigator looking for him. The old guy had never apologized. Unless you consider leaving millions to a grandson he’d never known an apology.
He’d wanted nothing to do with the man’s money. He hadn’t touched a dime.
She shoved a fist against her hip. “Well…how so?”
“I’ve always been frugal with my lunch money.” He gave her a wink and another smile. “Besides, if I sell my cattle ranch in Montana, it’ll be a breeze. I’ve always wanted to be a farmer, grapefruit, and grapes and dates…who could ask for anything more?”
While Jack knew he wasn’t really buying the land, he had to act like he was. And the place did sound intriguing. He knew he’d taken Debbie by surprise with his nonchalant shrug.
“But you don’t have…you’re not—” She stared at him for a moment, and then narrowed her eyes.
“Play your cards right little lady,” he said with a drawl and a wink as he picked
up his hat, and then shoved it on his head. “And this cowboy might come a-calling.”
“In your dreams,” she said with a huff. She shook her head and glanced from Zeke to Dena. “See you guys again soon. Give me a call when you have a moment, Dena. Maybe we can do lunch.” Then turning abruptly on her heel, she went back to sit at the bar.
Jack shook hands with Zeke and Dena, and avoided their questioning glances. At least they had the good graces not to ask him how he knew Debbie, or what was going on between them. He knew they’d be the hot topic of discussion on the drive back to Three C’s.
He walked them to the door. Dave came back from the office and joined them. The three left together, ambling across the parking lot calling out farewells. All of a sudden Jack felt way too vulnerable. He didn’t look behind him but felt the icy stare of a certain someone in the vicinity of the bar.
He stepped outside, stood in the late afternoon sunlight at the front door of Cliffs, and stared out at the mountains. He wondered about Three C’s and its adjoining property. Zeke had offered to take him horseback riding to look at it, and he was looking forward to that. He shook his head. Hell, he was even starting to think like a cowboy. He blew out a gust of air, and ambled back inside.
He still had Juan’s murder to solve, and it seemed he was getting further and further away from the facts. He knew it worked that way sometimes. Everything became this huge melting pot of information, and it became hard to discern truth from hearsay, and learn where the real leads were. But somehow the clues separated out from the misinformation, and if you trusted your gut…well, tomorrow was another day. And now, he knew for sure there was a white van in the picture.
But, tonight, a very angry lady sat at the bar; a very beautiful, angry lady. And she’d dressed all flirty. Was that for him, and had he blown all of his chances? At least they still had a dinner date, or he hoped they did. She hadn’t left. So that was always a good sign.
