A_Wanted Man - Alana Matthews (9 page)

“Now
that
would’ve been a shame.”

The comment surprised Harlan. “Why do you say that?”

The old woman got up on her elbows now, once again looking Harlan straight in the eye. “I know you two have been busy, but in case you haven’t noticed, that girl is still in love with you.”

Harlan blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me. Child likes to pretend she doesn’t give two hoots about you, that you’re the reason her life went off the rails, yet despite my best efforts over the past decade, she hasn’t met a man she can tolerate. And that’s all because of you, son.”

Harlan’s own words about his ex-wife came back to him suddenly.

Because she wasn’t you.

Could Callie have been afflicted by the same malady? Was every man she met measured against him? Against what they’d once had?

Not based on what
he’d
seen.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Glass, I think you’re dead wrong about that.”

She smiled again. “I may be wrong about the weather sometimes, or who’s gonna do what to who on my soaps…but I raised that girl and I know her better than anyone alive. And when I say she’s still in love with you, you’d better listen carefully, because I don’t want you to blow this opportunity.”

“Opportunity for what?” Callie said.

She came up behind Harlan, giving him an annoyed look as she squeezed past him through the doorway. She was carrying a bag of takeout.

“What else?” the old woman told her without a hitch. “To help you catch a killer. That
is
why he’s here, isn’t it? Jonah and I may have had our differences over the years, but it’s a shame what happened to him and Gloria. I guess that’s what you get when you raise a bad seed.”

“All that stuff I told you is confidential, Nana. I’d appreciate it if you kept it to yourself.”

“We’re among friends, aren’t we?”

Callie shot Harlan a look that pretty much put the lie to everything the old woman had told him. “Colleagues,” she corrected. “Even so, you need to learn to watch your tongue. You never know who might be listening.”

“I don’t think I’ve revealed any state secrets—have I, Marshal?”

That was a question up for debate, but Harlan said, “No, ma’am.”

She looked at Callie. “You see? Always getting hot and bothered over nothing. You need to learn to relax, child.”

“And you need to stop telling me that, but I don’t suppose you ever will.” She turned to Harlan. “Gloria Pritchard’s awake and they’re moving her to a room. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Harlan realized this was her not-so-subtle way of telling him to leave, so he nodded to Callie’s grandmother. “Nice talking to you, Mrs. Glass.”

“Same to you, son. Good to finally meet you after all these years.” She showed him another smile. “Don’t let your time here go to waste.”

“No, ma’am,” he said again. Then he was out the door and gone.

Chapter Ten

Gloria Pritchard was still groggy, but at least she was lucid. Lucid enough to have tears in her eyes.

“I feel so ashamed,” she croaked.

“Why’s that?” Harlan asked.

He had waited as they got her settled in the room, and by the time the doctor let him in to see her, Callie had shown up, still giving him the cold shoulder—which wasn’t a big news flash.

Even so, her grandmother’s words kept tumbling through his brain—

That girl is still in love with you.

But Harlan saw no evidence of this himself. Had to believe that the old woman was delusional. He had long ago concluded that it was too late for Callie and him. That the last train had come and gone.

But what if her grandmother was right?

Did he still feel the same about
her
?

Of course you do, you stupid fool. You never
stopped
loving her.

The thought was a revelation, as surprising as the old woman’s words, but was it really true? Did being in Callie’s presence stir up feelings that had long lain dormant, or was this simply a case of nostalgia? Of regret over things past that merely created the
illusion
that there was still something between them?

Ten years was a long time. Too long to be thinking about trying to rekindle emotions that he couldn’t even be sure still existed.

He was out of practice with Callie. The rhythm they’d once had was gone, and if her grandmother’s claim was even remotely true, then he obviously didn’t know how to read Callie anymore. Because from all appearances, she was done with him. For good.

But enough of this nonsense. He needed to put it aside and concentrate on finding a fugitive.

He returned his attention to Gloria Pritchard as she struggled a moment, then wiped the tears with the back of her hand. “I should have been honest with you this afternoon. If I had, Daddy would probably still be alive.”

It was odd hearing her use the term “daddy.” Based on her statements that afternoon, Harlan didn’t get the impression that the Pritchard household was a particularly loving one.

“Tell us what happened,” Callie said. She was in full professional mode, yet Harlan sensed a tension between these two women, the same tension he’d felt when they’d encountered each other that afternoon. There was something going on here that he wasn’t privy to.

Gloria closed her eyes, didn’t respond. She seemed to be trying to muster up the strength to speak, and he wondered if they’d come here too soon.

But from an investigator’s standpoint there was
never
a too soon. Every minute lost was a minute wasted.

Harlan gave her time, then said, “Ms. Pritchard?”

Still no response.

He was about to prompt her again, when she finally opened her eyes and said, “It was Megan. Megan and her friends.”

“They came to you for help?”

She nodded. “This morning. She and her friend Billy, and another man named Brett something—I didn’t catch his last name.”

The potato chip lover.

But Harlan wanted to make sure. Reaching into his inner jacket pocket, he brought out the surveillance photos and showed them to her.

“Are these the men?”

Gloria watched as he leafed through the photos, then squeezed her eyes shut again and nodded. “Yes.”

“Did they force their way into your house or did Jonah invite them in?”

She looked at him now. “If you knew Jonah, you wouldn’t even have to ask me that question.”

“But I
didn’t
know him, ma’am, so I’d appreciate it if you’d answer it.”

She hesitated, then said, “Jonah worshipped Meg. Loved her more than he ever loved me, that’s for sure.”

“Even when she brought people like Billy Boy Lyman to the house? He’s not exactly what most grandfathers would consider boyfriend material.”

“Jonah wasn’t your typical grandfather.”

“Meaning what?”

“It’s no secret what the Pritchard family roots are. Even though we’ve come a long way, and try to pretend we’ve elevated ourselves, people around here know exactly what we used to be.”

“Which is?”

“Outlaws,” Callie told him. “They earned their fortune the easy way.”

Gloria looked at her, annoyed. “
Easy
has nothing to do with it. That seed money may have bought our land, but our fortune was built through legitimate hard work.” She returned her gaze to Harlan. “My great-grandfather was Jeremiah Pritchard. Before he split off and started his own gang, he used to ride with Robert Leroy Parker.”

“You mean Butch Cassidy?” Harlan said.

She nodded. “One of Wyoming’s favorite sons. But Jeremiah had his fans, too, and there’s no denying he helped turn Williamson into the town it is today.”

“Oh, brother,” Callie muttered.

Gloria stiffened. The malice in her eyes was hard to disguise. “Poor little Callie. Wants so desperately to be part of this family she can’t stand the idea that we’ve actually accomplished something over the years.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Callie said.

“Don’t I? I know you think that just because your slut mother spread her legs for my brother, that somehow makes you—”

“Shut up,” Callie told her, and Harlan could clearly see that Gloria’s words had cut very deeply. He thought for a moment he might have to hold Callie back, but she quickly got control of herself.

He had no idea what was going on here. Callie had never once talked about Gloria Pritchard in their time together, but it sounded as if there was a blood connection between these two.

Was Callie Gloria’s
niece
?

If so, that would make
Meg
Pritchard her cousin. And that was a clear conflict of interest.

“Is there something we need to talk about?” he said to Callie.

“No. Nothing.”

But as much as she tried to hide it, he knew she wasn’t being straight with him, and behind the quiet anger there was vulnerability in her eyes. A vulnerability he recognized.

She and Gloria spent the next few seconds silently eyeballing each other, until Harlan said, “So what are you trying to tell me, Ms. Pritchard? That because you come from outlaw stock that this somehow made Jonah respect a punk like Billy Boy?”

“Jonah grew up worshipping his grandfather and his outlaw ways. He was always drawn to people who rebelled against authority. People like Billy and his friend. And Megan, of course.”

“So then what happened? What went wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I was upstairs and heard them shouting and when I came down to the living room, Meg had a gun pointed at my father.”

“And where were Billy Boy and Brett?”

“They were in the room, too. Billy Boy egging her on, telling her to pull the trigger. I think they may have been high.”

“And you have no idea what the problem was? Did Meg say anything? Want anything?”

Gloria stiffened. “What difference does it make? She shot him, then turned the gun on me. That’s all that matters.”

“I’m just trying to make sense of it,” Harlan said. “If Jonah admired these people and was willing to help them out of a jam, why would they suddenly turn on the two of you? Why would your own daughter want you dead?”

Gloria averted her gaze now. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Come on, Ms. Pritchard, your mouth is saying one thing, but your eyes are telling me something else altogether. What happened in that room?”

Gloria was silent. Struggling. Then she said, “I think I’d like to sleep now. Could you two please leave?”

“Not until you’ve answered the—”

Callie touched his shoulder, stopping him. “It’s okay, Harlan. I think I may already know.”

He looked at her and saw that her anger had abruptly disappeared, her expression now softened by a mix of surprise and empathy, as if something she had long wondered about suddenly made sense.

He waited for her to continue, but she said nothing, turning instead to Gloria. “The rumors are true, aren’t they? About Jonah’s…preferences.”

Gloria frowned. “What would
you
know about it?”

“This town doesn’t have many secrets, Gloria. We’ve all heard the whispers at one time or another.”

“That doesn’t mean a damn thing,” she snapped. “And it certainly doesn’t make it any of your business.”

Harlan’s voice was gentle but firm. “Look, Ms. Pritchard, I know you’re hurting, but a murder victim loses all right to privacy the moment we walk in the door. That’s the only way we can build a case against a potential—”

“Go away,” she said. “Please.”

Harlan took a deep breath, then exhaled. “All right, let’s put the motive aside for now. What we really need to know is where Meg and her friends were headed when they left. Did they say anything? Give any indication about where they might be going?”

“Maybe you didn’t hear me. I’d like to you leave.”

“Not until you tell us—”

“Get out,” she shouted. “Get out of my room!”

“Ms. Pritchard—”

“Get out!”
She pulled herself upright, her IV rattling, her face turning crimson. Tears filled her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she continued to shout at them. “
Leave
me alone!”

Whatever she was hiding, it was ugly and painful, so painful that she seemed unaware of the wound in her thigh which was starting to bleed, staining her blankets.

Harlan and Callie backed away from her now as the room began to fill with hospital personnel, people in scrubs telling them to go,
now
, as they moved to the bed to try to calm Gloria down.