Dove in the Window (27 page)

“Well, thanks,” I said, not knowing what else I could ask her that could possibly help Wade. All I had so far was that Parker and Olivia had been here and that possibly Bobby could have ambushed Kip later. I wondered if the bar lady had told the police the same thing she told me.

I started to walk toward the door when the lady called, “Wait.” She motioned at me to come back. “I have a question for you. You know that girl who was killed? The one who took pictures?”

I nodded.

“She was a real nice girl. She used to come here all the time when she was out taking pictures. Sometimes that cowboy who was killed was with her. Sometimes she was alone. She always left a good tip and always asked after my dogs. I have three dachshunds.” The woman stared down at her chipped nails. “I told the police everything I knew. Everything I just told you, but if your brother-in-law did it, I hope they put him away for good. Electric chair good.”

“He didn’t,” I said coldly and turned my back on her.

“For good,” she called after me.

It took a few minutes for the sick feeling in my stomach to subside before I started the truck. Though, next to Gabe, he was the last person I felt like seeing right then, I decided to take Wade his hat. He’d probably be working outside with Daddy all day and need the protection. But, I firmly told myself,
if Gabe is still there, you are driving right on by
. I wasn’t ready to talk about what happened between him and Wade. There was no doubt that Wade had provoked Gabe, and it would have taken a saint not to have reacted. There was also no doubt that before I handed Wade his hat, he was going to get a large piece of my mind. What I had to say to Gabe would take a little more contemplation.

Fortunately Gabe’s truck was gone, and the front yard was empty and quiet. I walked around to the back of the house and headed straight for the barn. Wade was alone inside, cleaning tack—something Daddy always made me, my Uncle Arnie, and many of his young ranch hands do to make us contemplate the sin of thoughtless anger. The Ramsey Ranch was known for having the cleanest tack in the county. In the background, KCOW played softly on an old red plastic radio—Terry Clark crooned “Poor, poor, pitiful me.”

“Here’s your hat, cowboy.” I tossed it on the table in front of him.

He picked it up and settled it on his head without looking up. “Thanks.”

“I don’t know why I bothered,” I said. “I oughta let you fry out in the sun. Maybe it would bake some brains into that empty head of yours.”

He stopped scrubbing on the leather and looked up. His eyes were still webbed with red lines, and his lip was cut and swollen under his long, sandy mustache. A bruise the size of a small plum bloomed on his cheek. One eye was almost swollen shut. “Look, Benni, I know I acted like the biggest asshole this side of Texas. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not just me you should be apologizing to.”

He lay the old blackened hackamore down on the wooden table in front of him. “I didn’t mean to make small of you. You know how much I care about you.”

“I know, but ...”

“He just grates on my nerves, you know? He’s always lookin‘ at me like I’m a piece of shit caught on his boot heel.”

I smiled, thinking that was pretty much what Gabe felt Wade thought about him. “He’s jealous, Wade. You can understand that, can’t you? Whenever he sees you, he’s reminded of Jack. I loved your brother so much that it’s hard for Gabe. He always feels second best. Think about being in his shoes for a moment. How would you like that feeling?”

He turned his head and didn’t answer. I watched his head slowly drop, and in a few minutes his shoulders started shaking.

His sobs gradually became audible, and I went to him, placing my hand on his broad back. I rubbed a slow circle as he bent over the buttery-smelling tack and cried for his brother. Eventually hot tears rolled down my own face, though this time they weren’t for my sorrow.

“You have to let him go, Wade,” I said.

“No!” He slammed his fist on the table. The tack hopped and trembled in front of him. In the cool, sun-speckled barn, birds fluttered and chirped, startled by his voice. They darted out through the dovecote at the top of the barn.

“You have to.” I continued to rub his back, like you would a frightened child, until his crying stopped. He wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeve, then stood up, hunching over and flinching as he did. Dirt from Gabe’s hiking boot stained the front of his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice thick and wet.

“For feeling sad because you miss your brother? C‘mon, Wade.”

“Now I’m not just a jerk. I’m a wimp, too.”

I sighed. Men. No wonder they died of heart attacks and hypertension. Maybe they should teach crying classes to high school boys and save us all some grief later on. “I accept your apology. Just no more cracks about me and Gabe, okay?”

He nodded. “I’ll apologize to your ...” He cleared his throat, unable to say it. “... Ortiz the next time I see him. Okay?”

I gave him a careful hug. “That would be great. I gotta go now. I’m so behind in my work that this may be my last exhibit if I’m not careful.”

He walked with me over to the double barn doors, trying to disguise his limp. “What do you think’s going to happen with that guy’s murder? Do you really think I’m going to take the fall for it?”

“Not if I can help it,” I said. “I’m working on it now. I’ll let you know if I find anything out. In the meantime, do whatever Amanda says and please, don’t leave the ranch.”

“I don’t intend to. I just hope this gets wound up soon. Didn’t think I’d ever say it, but I’m starting to miss Texas. And I for sure miss my kids.”

“We’re working on getting you back there as quick as possible.” I started out the door into the sunlight.

“Hey, Benni.”

I turned around and squinted in the sunlight at the darkened outline of Wade in the barn. His features were undecipherable, and for a moment I had an eerie sensation of seeing Jack again. But for the first time since Jack died, it was something I didn’t want to experience, this acute physical memory of him. Though a part of me would always love Jack, that time of my life was over.

“Yes?” I waited in the warm sunlight.

He touched two fingers to his Stetson. “Thanks.”

I lifted a hand in acknowledgment, feeling something give in my heart, like a guitar string breaking. “No problem, Wade. What are friends for?”

13

ON THE RIDE to town, I contemplated my next move. After everything that had taken place in the last twenty-four hours, I decided what I needed was to speak with someone sane, sensible, and not ruled by their emotions.

“She’s in her office,” the clerk at Blind Harry’s said. “But she’s not alone.”

“Who’s in there?” I asked.

She pointed to the steep wooden stairs, and I saw my cousin descending, wearing a smile that would light up Little Rock and all its surrounding communities. I met him at the bottom step.

“Either you just won the lottery, or Elvia was nice to you this morning,” I commented.

“Saturday night’s the night,” he said. “And she even offered me a cup of coffee.”

“Wow,” I said. “She must be melting. She only does that to every sales rep and Tom, Dick, and Harry who crosses her doorstep.”

“Don’t be such a negative Nellie,” he said. “Just because your own sweet life is in tattered shambles, don’t be rainin‘ on my parade.”

“You’re right,” I said, holding my hand to my heart and laughing for the first time this morning. “I’m being a snot. Congratulations on your success. I wish you a double-wide trailer full of luck on your upcoming date.” I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek, whispering in his ear, “ ‘Cause you’re going to need it.”

“Just you wait. You’re going to be forced to gobble up those words someday. How’d it go this morning, by the way?”

“Don’t ask,” I said with a groan. “And try not to comment on Gabe’s black eye and fat lip when you see them.”

A head popped up from behind the paperback mystery section.

“Black eye!” Sam said, his voice jubilant. “Fat lip!” He apparently had pulled an early shift at Blind Harry’s today. That explained why he wasn’t out at the ranch to enjoy his father’s adolescent skirmish with Wade.

“What happened?” Emory asked, his green eyes bright.

“Yeah, what happened?” Sam echoed. His quarter-moon grin was entirely too enthusiastic.

I shook a finger at both of them. “Look, I’m warning you both. Gabe is in no mood to be teased about this. If you want to stay among the living, I’d suggest you just ignore his injuries.”

“What happened?” Sam whined.

I told them the condensed version, trying not to laugh at Sam’s obvious enjoyment at hearing how his father lost control.

“This is so cool,” Sam said. “I would have never thought Dad would get so amped at someone that he’d hit him! Man, I’m going to rag on him about this for months.” His face lit up. “Years!”

I jerked my thumb over at his piles of books. “Right now you’d better get back to work or you’re going to get bugged by one tiny but powerful little Latina lady.”

His dark eyes sparkled with laughter. “She’ll cut me slack. I sell too many books.”

“You are getting almost as arrogant as that father of yours.”

“Walk me out to my car,” Emory said. When we reached the Corvette, which he’d miraculously managed to park directly in front of Blind Harry’s, he asked, “So, where does Wade stand legally at this point?”

I told him about the gum, what Amanda had said, and the questions I’d asked the bartender at the Frio. “Amanda’s going to get her investigator working on it, too,” I added.

“You’re too involved in this,” he said, sticking his hands deep into the pockets of his dark wool slacks. “That worries me to no end.” His pearl gray cashmere sweater looked warm and soft in the weak noon sunlight.

“Like I said last night, Emory, I don’t have a choice. I’m not going to put myself in danger. Not if I can help it, anyway.”

He studied me silently, green eyes troubled. For the first time, I noticed fine age lines radiating from them, and a part of me desperately hoped that my best friend could see how wonderful this man was, how lucky she’d be to have him in her life.

“Don’t worry, Emory. I’ll be very discreet with my questions.”

“I’ll see what I can find out with my contacts at the paper. I think you’re right that the person who did this is, unfortunately, one of the people closest to her.” He reached into the car and pulled out a small leather day planner. “Give me the names of the people who might be involved again, and I’ll see what I can dig up.”

“Bobby ... uh, Robert Sanchez. Grew up here in San Celina. Parker Williams ... her professional name is P.L. Williams. She’s originally from Bakersfield. Olivia Contreras. Another native San Celinan. Roland Bennett ... he’s the one who owns the gallery. He lived in San Francisco before coming here, that’s all I know. And Greer Shannon. Her family’s been here five generations. I guess that’s it.”

“And Isaac Lyons,” he added.

“What? You erase his name right now. He wouldn’t kill his own granddaughter.”

“Stepgranddaughter,” he corrected. “Benni, you’ve been married to a cop long enough to know that nothing is too outlandish when it comes to homicide.” He closed the day planner and threw it back down on the passenger seat. “His name stays ... for the time being.”

I scowled at him but didn’t argue. Deep down, I knew he was right, but that possibility was something I didn’t want to contemplate.

“We’ll have to talk tonight. I didn’t even get to hear the details of how you finally convinced Elvia to go out with you.”

“Now, you know she wouldn’t be able to resist my charming self for much longer.”

“You drugged her,” I concluded. “That is against the law, you know.”

“Get something to eat, sweetcakes, you’re getting pissy.”

“You are crazy, no doubt about it.”

“Now you know that’s nothin‘ if not true. I come from a long, proud line of crazy fools. You know us southern men have to be either plumb insane or drunk on homemade bourbon to have voted on goin’ to war without a single cannon factory among us.”

“Then you are a credit to your heritage. Call me at the museum if you find anything out. After I talk to Elvia and grab something to eat, I’ll be there the rest of the day.”

Upstairs, Elvia poured me a cup of coffee and said, “Tell me about this morning’s rumble between the cowboy and the cop.”

“Sam tattled, didn’t he?” I asked. “Couldn’t he wait thirty seconds? Geez, he’s a worse gossip than Dove and all her old cronies.”

“He didn’t have details, so give.”

I filled her in on everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. I was on my second cup of coffee before I finished.

“What a mess,” Elvia said. “But I’m not surprised they finally tangled. This has been brewing since Wade arrived.”

“I know. Now that some of the steam’s been let out of the pressure cooker, maybe we can all get down to business and find out who really killed Shelby and Kip.”

She shook her head. “I knew you’d end up getting involved. It’s too bad you’re too old to join the police academy. I think you missed your true calling in life.”