Death Rides Again (A Jocelyn Shore Mystery) (15 page)

BOOK: Death Rides Again (A Jocelyn Shore Mystery)
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I had last seen Alan less than two weeks ago, and he had not changed. Everything that I found attractive about him was the same, from his softly curling brown hair, to the fascinating gray-green of his eyes, to his broad shoulders. He was still fun, intelligent, and sexy. He had not changed. But I had.

He set his beer down, took a look at the way I was braced against the door, then rested a hip on the table. “I guess you weren’t expecting me, huh?”

“No. Sorry, I had no idea you were coming. I would have been here…” I started, then faltered.

He nodded thoughtfully. “Not your fault. I guess I figured that Kyla would have mentioned it to you, but I knew I should have talked to you myself.” He gave a twisted half smile. “I was afraid you’d tell me not to come.”

I could not think what to say. The rules of hospitality demanded that I reassure him, that I make him feel welcome and comfortable, that I soothe everyone’s feelings except my own. But I also didn’t want to lie to someone I truly cared about. Through the door, the football gang gave another shout and then burst into a wild cheer.

“Why did you come?” I heard myself ask, then almost clapped a hand over my mouth. “I mean … oh, I didn’t mean it that way. I mean, I’m really glad to see you, but you knew that…”

“That your cop was here?” he asked. “Yes, you told me.”

I waited.

He finally said, “I just plain wanted to see you. And I guess I wanted to see for myself how things were between the two of you. I have to admit I’m not sure that this was such a good idea.”

I had to laugh at that. “That might qualify as an understatement.”

“Possibly, although I learned two fairly positive things. One, your cop isn’t staying here. And two, he’s not here now. Where is he, by the way?”

“He’s in town somewhere,” I answered, hoping my voice sounded positive and unconcerned. “I’m sure you’ve heard by now that my cousin’s husband was killed. He’s been helping the sheriff.”

Alan glanced at his watch. “At eight o’clock on Thanksgiving? Pretty dedicated.”

I nodded. I was starting to feel very warm and suddenly realized I hadn’t taken off my coat. I unbuttoned it and threw it on a kitchen chair, glad to have something else to look at, if only temporarily. Having Alan here, seeing him again, feeling this awkward finally made everything clear. Painful, but clear.

“I … Alan, I just think…,” I began.

He gave a long sigh and then saved me from having to say the words out loud. “Yeah. And that’s the less positive thing I was afraid I might learn if I came. And the one thing I had to know.”

“I feel like an idiot. I don’t know what I’m doing,” I confessed. “And I’ve treated you terribly.”

“Now you are being an idiot,” he said, but gently. “We were in it together, and I’ve known exactly what was going on since … well, for the past few weeks. You’ve been completely honest with me. If anyone was an idiot, it was me. My fault for letting things slide between us.”

This was true actually, although it would not be kind to agree. Moreover, I wasn’t sure that meeting Colin wouldn’t have torn us apart even if we’d been rock solid. And that certainly wouldn’t be a good thing to admit, either.

Instead I settled for the inane and obvious. “You are the nicest guy I know.”

He gave a snort. “Great. Now you get to ask me if we can be friends.”

I swallowed and felt my eyes fill with tears. It was the first bitter statement I’d ever heard from him, and it cut hard. I struggled to think of something to say, but he saved me the effort again.

“Look Jocelyn,” he said, “give me a few months, then ask me. Seriously. Because I really do hope we’ll be able to be friends. Also because I don’t think that cop is going to be able to make you happy. When things go south, you call me. You and I had something pretty special.”

“I’m just so sorry,” I whispered.

“Me, too,” he said. He shrugged, then went to the sink to pour the rest of his beer down the drain.

“You want another one? Or some food? I didn’t even ask if you’d had any dinner tonight,” I said, suddenly realizing he’d been on the road for a good portion of the afternoon.

“Thanks, no. I think I’m going to head on home.”

“To Dallas? You can’t, it’s too late,” I protested.

“There’s no traffic. I’ll be home before midnight. Don’t look so worried,” he added with a smile. “I’ve made longer drives in a day. This is nothing.”

He folded me in his arms one last time, and I clutched him back, breathing in the scent of him, feeling his warmth and strength, full of regret and relief. He squeezed hard for an instant, placed a kiss on the top of my head, then released me.

“I’ll go say good-bye to your family. Do me a favor and wait here ’til I’m gone?”

I nodded, and he slipped through the door.

I sank into a kitchen chair, feeling numb, trying not to listen to the sounds on the other side of the door. Kyla walked in a few moments later, carrying a tumbler-sized martini full of olives the size of golf balls. She plunked it down in front of me.

I eyed it listlessly. “You know I don’t drink that shit.”

She went to the refrigerator, returned with a carton of orange juice, and topped up the glass to the brim. “There.”

I took a sip and choked a little. “He’s such a great guy. I don’t know why it stopped working.”

“Too little, too late,” she shrugged. “He didn’t really start trying until someone else was interested.”

“Yeah. But what if that doesn’t work either?” I felt an enormous wave of sadness. “I just met Colin. I don’t know how I feel about him. Or actually, I do, but what if he’s not who I think he is?”

“At least now you have a chance to find out. You would never have let yourself really try if Alan was lurking in the background.”

She was probably right, but that did not make her less insufferable. “You know I hate you,” I said.

“Yeah, I know. You’re welcome.”

*   *   *

Friday morning was chaos in the overcrowded ranch house. Even after drinking about a quart of vodka, I’d lain awake most of the night, and it felt like I’d barely drifted off when I was jolted awake by a cacophony of alarm clocks, fumbling steps, and the not-so-hushed voices of the little group who’d decided to go deer hunting. In the bunk next to me, Kyla groaned and pulled her pillow over her head. A couple of the cousins did likewise, the rest didn’t even twitch.

“I’m going to kill them. What the hell are they doing?” came her muffled voice.

“At least we can be sure the deer population is in no danger. With that much racket, anything with four legs has already sprinted into the next county,” I groaned.

Yesterday’s nonstop schedule of cook, eat, clean, and repeat had somehow produced a burst of energy within the Shore clan. A couple of hours after the hunters departed, the rest of the house sprang into action, and shortly after breakfast a shopping expedition to Austin was organized. My head was pounding, but I gave up and wandered downstairs in search of coffee and aspirin.

In the kitchen, Aunt Elaine tried to interest Kel in accompanying her. “Why don’t you go with us, hon?” she asked him. “Scotty and Sam are dropping the ladies at the mall, then driving down to Cabela’s,” she added as though trying to bribe a sulky toddler.

Cabela’s was a sporting goods store almost bigger than the small town just south of Austin in which it was located. It specialized in hunting, fishing, and camping equipment and boasted among other things an indoor archery range and parking for semis. Without exception, my male relatives got a misty far-off expression at the mere mention of Cabela’s.

Kel’s eyes misted for an instant, but then he pulled himself together. “I’m staying right here. I haven’t forgotten our daughter is missing, even if you have.”

“Your staying here isn’t going to bring her back any faster,” Elaine retorted. “You know she’s likely in Austin staying with Katy Ferrera and that young man of hers. Jocelyn’s boyfriend is checking on her right now.”

Kel looked from her to me with a sour expression. “Boyfriend One or Boyfriend Two? Or are there others we don’t know about yet?”

I glared at him, remembering just in time that it wasn’t good manners to flip off my elders. Instead, I turned to Elaine. “Is he? Is Colin”—I stressed the name—“checking on Ruby June? How do you know?”

“Sheriff Bob called last night,” answered Elaine absently, not taking her eyes off her husband. “He and Colin were canvassing the town, asking after all her high school buddies. Turns out that her friend Katy left for Austin Wednesday morning, and we figure Ruby June went with her. Katy’s folks are mad—they’ve never even met this so-called boyfriend of hers, but at least they had his name. He’s a nice young man—your Colin, I mean,” she added, “not Katy’s boyfriend. Doing all this when he’s meant to be spending the weekend with you.”

“That’s really good news,” I said, feeling both relief and a new anxiety. So Colin had gone to Austin without saying anything to me. What did that mean? Was he planning to come back or was this his way of giving me the space I’d so foolishly requested?

She smiled. “It’s wonderful news. And,” she added, looking straight at Kel, “I’m going to shop the sales with everyone else. You can stay here and stew by yourself. You want to come, Jocelyn?”

I shook my head. “I can shop in Austin any time. Kyla and I are going to the races.”

“Well, good. Maybe you can take Uncle Herman with you. He wants to go, and I can tell already that Kel won’t take him.”

Kel said nothing, jaw set, looking mutinous.

Elaine added, “Guess that means you’ll be in charge of the kids while we’re gone,” she said to him, and walked outside.

The look on Kel’s face was such a mixture of defiance and horror that I actually felt a little sorry for him.

In record time, two Suburbans full of eager shoppers trundled down the ranch road heading toward Austin. Through the window, I noticed Kris wearing an oversize black leather jacket stalking up the hill toward the barns. The first Suburban slowed, the driver stopping to say something, but then the two cars continued on, leaving her alone again. A little way off, a pack of kids went running toward the pond. I went looking for Kyla to tell her the latest.

I found her in the bathroom running a straightener through her dark waves. Half her hair already lay sleek and shining on her shoulders. Today, she wore jeans and a pink cardigan with pintucks, ruffles, and what I believed was called a sweetheart neckline. Gold gleamed at her throat and her ears, and I could smell her perfume from the doorway. I frowned, wondering what this careful preparation might mean for T. J. Knoller. The phrase “dead man walking” sprang to mind.

I dropped my bombshell about Uncle Herman.

“Oh good. That won’t cramp our plans at all.” She glared at my reflection in the mirror as through it were my fault. “What are we supposed to do with him when we go sit in T.J.’s box? Not to mention the party after. There’s no way I’m missing either.”

Oh yeah, T.J.’s party. Well, that explained the primping at least.

“We’ll take him with us. If he refuses to sit with T.J., I’ll stay with him and you can go to the box. And then we can drop him off here after the races.”

Somewhat mollified by my sacrifice, she nodded agreement. “So Colin went to Austin, did he? Did he tell you he was going?”

“No.”

“Is he coming back?”

“I don’t know. And if you say I told you so, I’ll kick your ass.”

She clicked her tongue. “I wouldn’t be so cruel. Besides, give Monkey Boy some credit. He’s not the type to pull any of that passive-aggressive shit. If he was dumping you, he’d just say so.”

“I wish you’d quit calling him Monkey Boy,” I said absently.

However, she was right about Colin. I’d let my own insecurities give me a scare.

From the mirror, Kyla’s blue eyes swept over my clothing. “You should get dressed,” she said. “We don’t want to miss the first race.”

I looked down at my worn jeans and bulky cotton sweater, which I’d thought was pretty cute until about two seconds ago.

“I
am
dressed,” I protested. “And it’s not like we’re going to Ascot, if you know what I mean.”

She rolled her eyes heavenward as if asking for strength, but then with a sigh returned to her hair straightening. Which was just as well, because a front had blown through and it was chilly outside. I wasn’t going to freeze so she could have a stylish companion. I also couldn’t wait to see her reaction to my puffy goose-down coat.

I wandered back downstairs, figuring that with Kyla’s state of preparation I had time for another cup of coffee if the pot was still on. In the kitchen, Uncle Kel sat at the head of the wooden table, staring down at his hands. Behind him, the coffeemaker sputtered a little and let off a puff of steam. Elaine must have started it before she left.

I walked past him to get a coffee cup. He didn’t even raise his head.

“You want some coffee?” I asked.

His shoulders lifted a half inch or so, which I interpreted to mean yes. Filling two mugs, I sat beside him and slid one in front him. After a moment, he listlessly cupped his hands around it, but made no move to drink.

“It’s good news about Ruby June. Being in Austin, I mean,” I ventured.

This did produce a reaction, although not the one I expected.

“That’s bull! There’s no way she went to Austin. She’s in trouble, and no one is doing anything about it.”

I frowned at him. “She was pretty upset that day you threatened Eddy. Why don’t you think she might have gone off with one of her friends?”

“She just wouldn’t,” he said, as though saying it made it true.

I tried another approach. “You’ve seemed a little on edge since we got here,” I said, which was a candidate for understatement of the year. “I mean, even before Ruby June left. Is there something going on?”

He shook his head. I looked at him, exasperated. It was like talking to a post, only less rewarding. I tried one more time.

“You know the police are investigating … the family,” I sidestepped saying “you” at the last minute. “In connection with Eddy.”

At this, he did raise his head, and I was surprised by the flash of amusement in his eyes. “You can say it. They think I killed the miserable little bastard. I know it, and I can’t even blame them,” he said, then added with some bitterness, “Much. I admit, I wanted to kill him that morning.”

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