by Shirl Anders
She and Zeb had talked about her doing this to push Rick into a corner, and Carly saw the hard glint in Rick’s eyes right before he covered it.
“Lawyer,” he hissed, then he tried to take her hand, which she quickly pulled from his grasp as if he were a snake trying to strike her. “Carly, we need to talk about this. Let me sit up here with you.”
Carly’s eyes widened as she looked at him crouched in front of her, and she wanted to fall backwards to get away from him.
Instead she gritted her teeth. “No way,” she muttered. Then she added what she hoped would make his leaving final: “Talk to my lawyer.”
Carly tried to turn back to cold-shoulder him, but he put his hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, Cabe stood and fell into Rick’s arm, dislodging it as she heard the growl coming from Zeb behind them.
“Carly,” Rick whined.
Just as Cabe said, “Didn’t see you there, Shaw.”
“Yeah, man, it’s okay,” Rick said distractedly, trying to inch around Cabe, who was not letting him. Then Rick said, “I’m not leaving.”
Carly sucked in a breath as Rick moved to the other side of Cabe and grabbed a chair to pull it up to the end of the judges’ table. “I’ll be here when you finish, Carly,” he said stubbornly.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to announce the tenth annual Redrock Beauty Pageant and this evening’s talent category!” an announcer’s voice blared over the loudspeakers.
Carly glanced over her shoulder at Zeb, who shook his head sharply, meaning for her to leave Shaw there and ignore him. Cabe had no choice but to sit beside her and between her and Rick. The fairgrounds president glanced her way, and she avoided his gaze.
Then the first contestant was up and the lights were down in the audience and at the judges’ table. For the first three contestants Carly felt as if she was going to jump out of her skin at any second, expecting something to happen to her. Why else would Rick make such a big deal about sitting close to her if it wasn’t to target her?
But she knew Zeb was right behind her, and Cabe was beside her, and nothing happened, even so far as Rick never looked at her, but scooted forward, while sitting straight and watching the contestants closely. Rick even stole some paper from Cabe and started jotting things down.
Was she going crazy? What was he doing?
Halfway through the talent show portion of the pageant, Miss Freaking MintLeaf was up, and Tula actually sent a little wave toward the judges’ table. Carly’s eyes narrowed, looking over at Rick, who was sitting board straight with his eyes glued to Tula.
Un-freaking-real.
Tula apparently never found an organ, because she came out in the same sequined dress Carly had seen her in before. Tula was carrying batons, and there were batons on a stool behind where Tula stopped at center stage. Throbbing rock music started, and Tula pirouetted, made a pose, and tore off the bottom of her gown to reveal a leotard-type outfit that was sequined with fringes on the leg holes.
Then Tula started twirling ... herself and her batons.
Tula only dropped the batons twice, and at the end she set one of the batons on fire. Carly cringed, hoping Tula didn’t drop the damn thing. Luckily, Tula caught the one baton she did throw, and at the end she fell into a very suggestive pose on her knees with her thighs spread wide as the music faded, while Rick clapped as if he’d seen a powerfully moving performance.
Carly’s stomach curled as she wondered if Tula were in on the plan for Rick to murder his wife?
SEVENTEEN] Back Me Up
One performance after Tula’s was finished, and Rick got up and left the judges’ table. He didn’t say a word to her as Carly stared after him, feeling furious that he was making her feel like she should call him back to ask him what the hell was going on.
Cabe’s hand brushed hers again. “Strange as hell,” he muttered.
Carly nodded to him, and she barely watched the rest of the contestants—she just scored them whatever Cabe was scoring them, while her thoughts whirled. At the end she gave her score sheets to the fairgrounds president, and she asked Cabe, “Can you go with me backstage for a minute? Stick close, but not like we’re together?”
Cabe raised his eyebrows, but nodded, and Carly made sure she moved close enough to Zeb when she stepped down from the platform to murmur to him, “I have to go backstage. Not long, and Cabe will stick with me.”
Carly saw the argument on Zeb’s face, and she hurried by him with Cabe following, but not too close. It was time to get some freaking answers.
Backstage, Carly made certain she didn’t see Rick anywhere, and then she congratulated contestants while hearing Cabe behind and to the right of her doing the same thing. Good cover. When she finally saw Tula, she moved toward her and bumped right into her on purpose.
“Oh, sorry,” Carly said, not meaning a word of it. Then Carly sort of crowded Tula backward until Tula was separated from the other people who were milling around. One glance had Cabe talking to a stagehand off her right shoulder.
“Oh, Judge Oliver!” Tula exclaimed. “I hope you liked my twirling.”
“Very impressive. Where did you learn it?” Carly asked, acting as if they were having a typical judge and contestant interaction.
“Oh, I took lessons,” Tula said, and she put her hand on Carly’s arm, while giving her a sincere look that did not touch her eyes. “You are so cool for letting that little thing go today.” She moved closer as if confiding secrets. “You know ex’s can have a hard time letting go. But I told Zeb ... ah, Mr. Andersen that he can’t come around me anymore and break the rules.”
She flashed a bright smile that Carly wanted to smack off her face, but Carly ignored the urge as she shrugged Tula’s hand off her forearm.
“Yes, ex’s,” Carly muttered. “So you’re divorced, then?”
Tula’s face said she was going to lie before she did it. “Of course. Totally divorced.”
One thing Carly took from it was that Tula might not be able to lie easily. “So, one thing has puzzled me since it happened, Miss MintLeaf. At your first interview on stage, you called out for a ‘Judge Shaw’ like they weren’t there and you wondered where they were.”
“I did?” she asked, looking blank. “I don’t remember that because Judge Shaw was right there with you tonight, you know that.”
“Judge Shaw?” Carly asked, with a horrible quake attacking her.
“Right by Judge Santos, and you’re Judge Oliver, right? I try to keep the judges’ names straight. It’s my business to know and all that.”
Carly could barely speak. “Yes.” She struggled, because she needed more information, but it was hard to think through the pounding in her skull. “Um, I think Judge Shaw is married,” Carly muttered.
Tula’s features instantly turned stunned, then as fast turned into fury that looked like she was struggling to hold back. “What?” she exclaimed, then she uttered, “He better not be.”
Carly was certain Tula hadn’t wanted that last piece out for anyone to hear, as Tula’s hand clamped over her mouth, and Carly had great satisfaction in saying, “Oh, maybe I’m wrong, I cannot keep track in this town. But I thought he was a rodeo clown or something—”
“Bull rider,” Tula provided, shocking Carly again. Her going-to-be ex and in jail was never a freaking bull rider in his life. He apparently could throw bull, but that was another thing. “National Champion, that’s why he’s on the judges’ table now. You might not know that since he’s not from around here like the rest of you judges. He follows the pageants now, and this is the first one he’s judging. How cool is that?”
“You know so much about this,” Carly choked, then she managed to say, “Good luck. I think you are definitely a top runner.”
Tula squealed and jumped up and down before she settled and thanked her, then skipped away.
“Oh my God,” Carly breathed, clutching her throat.
A warm and strong hand settled on her back. Carly looked over her shoulder and up a
t Cabe. “Heard most of that, babe. Totally fucked.”
A few minutes later, Zeb pulled Carly to him, and he felt her shaking as he looked over her head at Cabe. Then Cabe filled him in on some crazy, messed-up information, and Zeb cupped Carly’s nape as he held her close. They were in an alcove near an exit and away from the public, who were on the other side of the amphitheater grounds.
Cabe nodded, and Zeb didn’t know the man, but he looked seriously pissed as he muttered, “You need anything, I’m right there.”
Then he walked away, giving them privacy. What Carly didn’t know was that Zeb had his eyes on her during her entire encounter with Tula. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but at times he could read Carly’s face and tell she was shocked, pissed, and then terribly shocked again.
“I don’t think she knows,” Carly mumbled into his throat, where he felt a few hot tears.
“Yeah, but she’d play anybody to get that crown,” Zeb muttered. Just then his cell rang, as Carly clutched his waist. He hooked it out of his pocket and, not letting go of her, he thumbed it on and put it to his ear. “Yeah.”
“Zeb, honey.”
Carly stiffened against him. It was Tula.
“Sorry I had to act like I wasn’t happy to see you, Zebbie, but I didn’t know you worked for the pageant, honey. What are you doing for them?”
Zeb dropped his arm across Carly’s back, and he held her tightly to him. “Kicked me to the curb, Tula. That was shit,” he growled.
“Zeb, I told you I’m sorry. But if you are working for the pageant, don’t you want to help your wife win?”
Zeb felt his heart actually hurt, and he clenched his eyes, while Carly hugged him tighter.
“Wife in fucking name only, Tula, and let this be your word I’m getting papers and divorcing your ass. Don’t call me the fuck again. And one more word you better listen to: Shaw’s fucking married and he’s bad, really bad. Get away from him.”
Zeb thumbed the call closed on Tula’s screech. Carly tilted her head back, with her eyes liquid silver. “I had to warn her,” he muttered, looking down on her, asking for understanding.
“You had to,” she agreed, then she kissed his jaw to make him feel better he thought, but he didn’t feel better.
Thirty minutes later, they were in a bar and dance club on the highway called Kickin Rodeo, where Walkinghorse had picked to meet them. Zeb wanted to sit next to Carly, he wanted to hold her or at least touch her hand, but he couldn’t in the local bar they were in.
The lost look in her eyes told him she needed it bad, but they had to get through this mess, then he could go out with her in a damn bar if he wanted to. They sat in a booth in the back across from each other, and he’d gotten them two bottles of beer, which Carly sipped at.
“Cell records will tell us a lot,” he said.
Carly nodded. “I wonder how you catch something like this. It’s not like he’s just going to come out and confess he’s been trying to hurt me.”
Zeb noticed she had a hard time saying “kill,” and he didn’t blame her. “That’s the trick, baby. Hopefully this Walkinghorse has a fucking clue.”
Carly looked wistfully at his hand on the tabletop, and he knew she wanted to touch him. “I know Justice, Zeb. He must be very good to be a federal marshal so young. Well, late twenties, which is young.”
Federal marshal? Zeb liked that sound of that; he hadn’t known what kind of lawman Vincent was setting them up with.
“That’s him.” Carly nodded, and Zeb looked that way.
Walkinghorse had on a cowboy hat, a sheriff’s shirt with jeans, and a badge hanging off his belt, with a slow, prowling swagger that looked like he seriously took no shit. The tan cowboy hat came sweeping off as Walkinghorse stopped by a cute strawberry blond, who did not look happy to see the dude. It was strange to see an Indian with a buzz cut, but it gave Walkinghorse an edged look.
“That’s Angel,” Carly muttered. “I didn’t see her before.”
Zeb watched Walkinghorse’s hand reach out to clasp Angel’s upper arm. Angel shook it off and said something that Zeb took as “leave me the fuck alone,” then she whirled away.
“Who is Angel?” Zeb asked, watching Walkinghorse scan the redhead’s retreat to the poolroom.
“WTSF helped her and her brother. She was managing Rusty’s gift shop after she’d apprenticed there. But I think her brother James has fallen back into a bad gang again.”
“Can’t make them all drink the water,” Zeb muttered.
Carly looked at him. “Yes, just be there if they ask for help again.”
Walkinghorse arrived at their table, and Carly scooted over for him to sit on her side. “Ma’am,” Justice said to Carly.
Carly laughed. “You better call me Carly, Justice, or I’m going to start calling you Mr. Walkinghorse. Justice, this is Zeb Andersen.”
Zeb took Justice’s hand across the table, and they shook. “I got some background on you two,” Justice said. “Crazy meeting, but I am glad you’re there for her.”
Zeb nodded as their hands released. Carly put her hand on Justice’s shoulder. “Before we get to my mess, what’s up with Angel?”
Justice frowned, with his light brown eyes moving across the room. “She’s putting herself out there and I don’t like it,” he muttered.
Carly’s hand dropped. “She brought in two girls off the reservation last month. Is this how she’s doing it? She said they came to her.”
Justice sat back and put his hat on the table. “She’s lying. She hunts them down. See that black-haired girl with the short, mean-looking Indian over against the wall? That girl’s sunglasses aren’t covering the sunlight in here, but a black eye would be my guess.”
Zeb felt the instant urge inside him to go deal with that messed-up action, and he realized the pull this work had for Carly.
“We’ll keep an eye on Angel,” Carly stated firmly.
Justice nodded, then sighed. “I traced Shaw’s cell records off the number Vincent gave me, and they tell an interesting story.” Justice leaned forward and pulled some papers out of his back pocket, then spread them out on the table. He pointed to different circled phone numbers. “These are calls to Tula Andersen’s cell, which we are now tracing and should have back by tomorrow, and these”—Justice pointed to five red circles—“are in the last two days, to a place called Mercenary Inc.”
Zeb saw that Shaw was calling Tula constantly, which meant he had his head so far up her ass it wasn’t funny. But he got a chill over the Mercenary Inc. calls. Only one reason a civilian called a mercenary, and that was to do something he was too chicken shit to do himself.
“Mercenary Inc. I don’t get it,” Carly said, looking at Justice. Zeb could tell the marshal had no desire to clue her in.
“Carly,” Zeb said, getting her eyes. “Trying to hire a man to do something bad,” he muttered.
Her gray eyes widened, then she looked down at the table, and Zeb could have cursed out loud that he couldn’t be over there to hold her.
“Good news is Vincent knows the owner of Merc Inc. very well, and the dude’s not into murder for hire, so he’s on our side, and this gives us an in.”
Zeb sat straighter—he could feel a plan falling in place. “Shaw make any definite contact yet?”
Justice shook his head. “Just initial, but now we can put Shaw with a wired undercover and get him on audio ordering and hopefully paying for what he’s trying to do. That will get him in jail for a long time.”
“I wanna be the contact,” Zeb said, immediately hearing Carly’s sound of surprise. “Wire me—I’ll go talk to him, get what you need.”
“Zeb,” Carly said, sounding uncertain.
But Justice said, “Be hard to find someone around here Shaw doesn’t know.”
“He doesn’t know me,” Zeb said firmly.
EIGHTEEN] Can’t Stop Me
Carly couldn’t stand to listen to the plans about Zeb pretending to be a contract killer her husband w
as going to hire to get rid of her. Instead, she excused herself to go to the ladies’ room, but she actually went into the poolroom. They’d told Justice all about Rick’s pretending to be a judge, telling contestants he was a champion bull rider, about the insurance policy, and the money missing from her bank accounts.
Justice was going to go to the banks and insurance company to get those signatures so they could build a better case of fraud, forgery, and motive for attempted murder.
Her life!
But she couldn’t do any more about that than she was doing, and she did know that helping others always lightened the burdens on her life. Besides, once a WTSF girl, always a WTSF girl, and Carly was their surrogate mom if they’d let her be.
Carly came up behind Angel, she was a beautiful young woman with long light red hair, who at the moment was dressed like a boy. Angel had on a backwards baseball cap, sunglasses, a ripped tee shirt over a jeans jacket, high-tops, and baggy jeans one size too big. Talk about hiding beauty.
“Hey there,” Carly said, stroking her fingers once through Angel’s hair.
Angel barely turned to look at her, as she muttered, “Saw you with that hot biker dude.”
“He’s a new trainer at WTSF,” Carly lied, moving to lean on the pool table with Angel, who was staring at the young Indian girl with sunglasses.
“Why do they always pick the losers,” Angel muttered under her breath.
Carly shoulder-bumped her. “Usually because there are no parents or guardians around to pay attention.”
Even from the side, Carly saw the pain flash in Angel’s eyes. “Well, I’m not giving up,” Angel said fiercely.
Carly had the feeling Angel was talking about more than the girl; maybe she was talking about her brother too. “You know better than most it can be hard to get them to think straight.”
Angel turned her gaze to Carly. “Rusty slammed me over the head with it. Tough love can work.”
Carly squeezed Angel’s hand. “As long as you’re not getting in the middle of that fist, Angel.”
