Authors: Katie Lane
Just the thought of the “daddy search” had Shirlene grinning. “Or when they thought you were Hope and stole your car to keep you here in Bramble—of course, if they hadn’t, you wouldn’t be standing there with that cute baby.”
Leaning down, Faith kissed Daisy’s downy head of dark hair. Surprisingly, Shirlene didn’t feel the stab of envy she normally felt. Probably because she had too many other things to worry about.
Faith looked back up. “But you’ve told Colt and Hope, right? Colt’s probably working on getting you back in your house as we speak.”
There was a part of Shirlene that wished that was the case. But the more stubborn part refused to give up.
“Actually, honey,” she said, “I don’t want them knowing just yet. Colt has watched out for me all my life. I think it’s time I started watching out for myself. Which is why I’m hoping you’ll keep your crazy ESP away from Hope.”
“You don’t have to worry. The telepathic connection
Hope and I have doesn’t seem to work long distance,” Faith said. “But once Hope and Colt get back from California, I can’t make any promises.”
“I’m hoping the bank president and I will have things worked out by then—that’s if he ever gets back from sunnin’ himself on some tropical beach.” Shirlene reached for the door handle, intending to toss her measly shopping bag on the back seat. But Faith’s next words stopped her.
“Why don’t you just call him?”
Shirlene turned. “What?”
“Why don’t you just call the bank president?” She shielded the setting sun from Daisy’s eyes with her hand. “My boss used to go on vacation all the time. But if an emergency came up, we always had a number we could reach him at. And being kicked out of your home should qualify as an emergency—which brings up a good point. If you don’t have any money, where have you been living?”
“Out on Grover Road,” Shirlene mumbled absently, her mind still wrapped up in what Faith had said about calling the bank president.
“In your old trailer?” Faith sounded shocked.
“Why not? You lived out there in Bubba’s.” Shirlene looked down the street, her eyes narrowing on the bank. As she watched, Ruby Lee stepped out and turned to lock the door behind her.
“Listen, honey.” Shirlene gave Faith a quick hug. “I’ll have to talk with you later. Right now, I need to have a little chat with that lowdown scoundrel who evicted me.”
“Good luck,” Faith called as Shirlene hurried down the street.
“Well, hey, Shirlene!” Ruby Lee greeted her with
a wide smile that showed off the big space between her front teeth. “How you been, girl?”
“I’ve been good, honey.” Shirlene glanced back at the bank. “You workin’ a little late for a Friday, aren’t you?”
Ruby Lee rolled her eyes before she leaned in and whispered. “The new bank manager’s got a bug up his butt about employees stayin’ until the last dog is hung. I’ve worked so much in the last two weeks that my kids are startin’ to call their babysitter mama.”
“Well, I’m real sorry to hear that, Ruby. Speakin’ of the bank manager, is he still workin’? Because there was something I needed to discuss with the man.”
“’Course he’s still workin’,” Ruby said. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that the little feller sleeps in his office. At least, he’s always there to yell at me if I’m five minutes late.” She pulled out her keys and turned back to the door. Once the door was unlocked, she pushed it open. “I’ll just let him know you’re here.”
“No need for that,” Shirlene said as she stepped past her. “I know where his office is. You get on home and see those kids.”
Ruby Lee didn’t hesitate to slip the keys back in her purse. “Well, if you don’t mind, I think I will. Just have Mr. Peabody lock up after you.”
“I’ll be sure to do that, honey,” Shirlene said as the door shut closed behind her.
With twilight just around the corner, the bank was dark. But Shirlene had been to Luther Briggs’s office enough to find her way. Mr. Peabody sat behind the large desk with a pair of reading glasses perched on his small nose as he read through a stack of papers. Shirlene reached into the bag, and at the rustle of plastic, his beady eyes snapped up.
She smiled brightly. “Howdy, Reggie.”
He registered surprise for only an instant before his face puckered with annoyance. “The bank is closed, Ms. Dalton. And if you continue to ignore the bank schedule that is posted as plain as day on the front window, I’ll be forced—” His voice dropped off, and his eyes bugged out when he noticed the shiny silver revolver in her hand. He swallowed hard before he stammered in a high-pitched voice. “I-i-is this a r-robbery?”
“No, Reggie,” Shirlene said as she strolled into the office. “This is a woman who has reached the end of her patience with bad customer service. Now I know I screwed up—and I’m willing to take responsibility for my actions.” She waved the gun, and Mr. Peabody’s face lost all color. “But would it have hurt you to show a little common decency? To come out to my home and explain the situation instead of sending a few measly letters quickly followed by a locksmith?”
“P-please, Ms. Dalton,” he squeaked. “D-don’t shoot. It was Mr. Cates who wanted the locks changed. All I was doing was my job.”
Since it looked like he was about to cry, Shirlene lowered the gun. “Following orders is one thing, Reggie. Doing it in such a nasty manner is another. And speaking of your Mr. Cates,” she pointed the gun at the phone, “why don’t you get him on the line. I have a few things I’d like to say to him, too.”
“B-but,” Mr. Peabody stammered. But all Shirlene had to do was lift an eyebrow before he pulled out a business card from his desk and start dialing. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir,” he whined. “But Ms. Dalton is here in my office, and I’m afraid she’s going to do something rash if you won’t speak with her.” He swallowed hard. “No, sir, not to
herself—to m-me.” Less than a second later, he held out the receiver to Shirlene.
Shirlene took the phone and sat down in the chair across from the desk, hooking a leg over the arm. “Good evenin’, Mr. Cates. How’s the vacation goin’?”
There was a pause before a voice came over the line. A voice that didn’t sound anything like a lowdown, dirty scoundrel. This voice was as smooth as a shot of three-hundred-dollar-a-bottle tequila with just a hint of Texan flavor.
“Good evening, Ms. Dalton,” he said. “And the vacation
was
going well. Now I’m a little worried about the safety of my employee.”
She swung her foot back and forth. “Nothin’ to worry about, honey. I’m only violent when I’m riled. And I’m not riled… yet.”
“So what are your demands, Ms. Dalton?” Mr. Cates asked. “A billion dollars and my helicopter on the roof?”
The helicopter surprised her. Lyle hadn’t even had one of those. She leaned over and grabbed a tissue out of the box and handed it to Mr. Peabody, who appeared to be sweating profusely. “Actually, I just want my house back.”
“So you expect me to just give you your house back and forget all about the loan?”
“Now that wouldn’t be fair at all, honey. No, I plan on paying you back every cent with interest and late fees… just as soon as I sell my house.” The burst of laughter that came through the line halted Shirlene’s leg mid-swing. “Is there something amusing about that, Mr. Cates?”
The laughter died. “You do realize the loan is for close to a million dollars, don’t you?”
Shirlene hadn’t realized that, but she hid her ignorance well. “And the house has to be worth at least two million.”
“In a big city like Dallas or Houston, you’d get that easily. But in a town Bramble’s size, there’s not a chance in hell.”
Suddenly Shirlene started sweating as profusely as Mr. Peabody while Mr. Cates continued ruining her plans.
“Which means I’ll be lucky to get enough to cover the loan. And since it doesn’t look like you have sufficient funds to make the payments, I suggest you find another place to live. Isn’t your brother building a house just outside of town?”
Shirlene was really getting steamed now. She jumped up and walked to the window, waving the gun as she talked. “I am not going to impose on my brother and his family! And how do you know about my insufficient funds?” The chair squeaked behind her, and when she turned, Reggie was long gone.
“It’s my job to know,” Mr. Cates stated. “And I’m sure you won’t have to live with your brother for long—from what I hear, you’re very good at finding men to take care of you.”
She wanted to call him every dirty name she’d ever heard out on Grover Road. But the thought of her childhood home, and the kids who lived in it, had her swallowing the words. “And what about you, Mr. Cates?”
There was a long pause. “What kind of offer are you making, Ms. Dalton?”
She gritted her teeth. “One that only concerns my house. I’ll make you a sweet deal.”
He laughed again. It was really starting to annoy her.
“Bramble, Texas is the last place on earth I’d choose to live.” He paused for just a heartbeat. “Besides, Ms. Dalton, unless you can come up with some cash fairly quickly, I already own your house.”
“S
O WHATCHA DOIN
’, K
ENNY
G
ENE
?”
The deep voice so close to his ear almost made Kenny wet his Wranglers. But a law enforcement officer needed to keep his cool in tense situations so he pulled himself together. Although he was mighty relieved to turn around and find his best friend Rye Pickett standing there.
“For the love of Pete, Rye, would you keep it down?” Kenny said. “Can’t you see I’m workin’ surveillance?”
Rye looked duly impressed. He also looked all green and spooky. Kenny pushed up the night-vision goggles that he had gotten in the fifty percent-off aisle at Wal-Mart. Not that he needed them. The sun had yet to disappear over the horizon. Still, they were cool as hell.
“Surveillance on what?” Rye asked.
“Not what, but who.” Kenny glanced back over at the Escalade parked in the parking lot of Bootlegger’s. “See that man talkin’ on his cell phone?”
Rye squinted across the street. “Yeah. He’s that new feller in town.” He glanced back at Kenny. “But I thought it was legal to talk on your cell when you wasn’t drivin’.”
“He’s not under surveillance for talkin’ on his phone,” Kenny stated as he leaned against the lamppost and crossed his arms over his chest. The goggles flopped back down over his eyes, but he decided to leave them there for dramatic effect. “He’s under surveillance for being a criminal.”
“No foolin’?” Rye looked even more impressed.
“Now would a law enforcement officer fool about a thing like that, Rye Pickett?” he said, although he tried not to sound too prideful. Rye had wanted the job of Sam’s volunteer deputy almost as much as Kenny had. Since Kenny had gotten it, he didn’t want to rub it in.
“So what did he do? Rob a bank? Murder someone? Bring that Mary-juanie over from Mexico?”
“I don’t know the particulars, but one criminal is as bad as another.”
“Now that ain’t always true.” Rye shot a stream of tobacco into the bushes. “Colt Lomax was a little bit of a criminal growing up, but he turned out okay. Hey, can I try on them goggles?”
“I’d love to let you, Rye, but while I’m on duty I can’t let people be playin’ with my special law enforcement equipment. But tomorrow night when we go gopher huntin’, I’ll let you wear ’em then.” Kenny slipped them back up on the top of his head. “And Colt don’t count, seein’ as he was born and raised here in Bramble. This criminal, on the other hand, could be from anywhere—maybe even New York City. Although I can’t see Shirlene shackin’ up with some foreigner.”
Rye’s eyes widened. “You mean, he’s the feller Shirlene has taken a shine to? The one who’s got a key to her place?”
“One and the same.”
Rye glared at the Escalade. “A criminal livin’ with our little Shirlene. That just don’t seem right. Why don’t you go on over there and arrest him?”
No wonder Rye had lost the deputy contest. The man just didn’t use the old noggin.
“Because you can’t just arrest a man without hard evidence,” Kenny said. “It’s like fishin’. You tug too hard, and the big one will get away. You gotta let him take the bait first—make him feel like he’s just helpin’ himself to a nice dinner.” He jerked up his hands like he held a fishing pole. “Then you got him.”
“And Shirlene’s the bait?” Rye asked. “The bait for what?”
It was a good question. Up until that point, the man had done nothing more than stay out at Shirlene’s and stop at a bunch of cemeteries—which was just plain creepy. Still, Kenny hadn’t just been watching Beau. He’d been thinking. And he thought he had it all figured out.
“I think he’s plannin’ on connin’ Shirlene out of her millions.”
Rye looked surprised and then confused. “But how’s he gonna do that? Shirlene ain’t dumb enough to give her millions away.”
Kenny set him straight. “She didn’t used to be. But being without a man can do strange things to a woman. Just the other day I saw her comin’ out of the First Baptist Church—a place she hasn’t stepped foot in since her mama and daddy had her baptized—wearing a Batman shirt and a pair of rubber floppy shoes without a speck of heel.”
“No heels?” Rye looked truly horrified. His entire face drooped in mourning. “I loved that woman’s heels.”