Simon Says (24 page)

A
S
soon as she was alone in her motel room, Dakota called Barnaby. He sounded half-asleep still, but at the sound of her voice, he quickly grew alert.

“I hope you have good news, honey.”

“Not much has changed, Barnaby—except that I'm done.” Not giving him a chance to argue, question, or complain, she rushed on. “If you have letters, then go ahead and burn them. I don't care.”

“Liar. You can't mean that.” When she said nothing, he raged on. “This is the last link you have to your mother!”

Dakota ignored that. Her stomach felt tight at the thought of losing the letters, but her spirit felt freed. “Simon wants nothing to do with you and that won't change. I want nothing to do with you, either. Don't ever call me again.”

Sounding strained, he said, “You'll regret this.”

“If you think to send someone after me again—”

“Again?”

“Don't act innocent, Barnaby. We both know you had something to do with me getting shoved down the stairs.”

A long pause left Dakota uneasy. “I don't know what you're talking about.” He sounded harsh and upset. “Were you hurt?”

Suddenly doubtful, Dakota tightened from her toes to her temples. “You sent Marvin here.”

“I have as little to do with that miscreant as I can manage.” Tension throbbed in his tone. “Years ago, I told you not to get involved with him. I warned you. But you were Ms. Know-It-All and did just as you pleased, so if he's in your life now, you have no one but yourself to blame!”

His words rang true. “You know, it's odd, Barnaby, but I almost believe you.” And Dakota hated that. She'd been so sure that Barnaby was behind the trouble. But now…

“I thought you loved your mother. I thought you'd do anything for those stupid letters. Why would I waste my time with a common thug?”

What he said made sense. “So you haven't seen Marvin at all?”

Dakota could hear him breathing during another extended pause. Finally, he said, “You listen to me, girl. Sometimes in life, you don't have a choice. It's not about what you want or don't want. Get Simon to come to me. Or at least get him to call me again. It's important. You
will
regret it if this doesn't work out.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a threat, Barnaby.”

“No!” He seemed almost panicked. “Give me his number. I'll call him. Just let me grab a pen and paper—”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Dakota said, “If you bother Simon or me again, I'll contact the police. I'll tell them everything and let them decide if you're involved or not. I mean it, Barnaby. Don't test me.” She closed the cell phone, disconnecting the call.

For a few minutes, Dakota sat on the edge of the bed and considered Barnaby's last warning. What did he need with Simon? Would she ever know?

She looked at the phone in her hand. The thought of calling Marvin made her pulse trip. He wouldn't tell her anything, but maybe he'd give himself away somehow. He liked to brag, almost as much as he liked to bully.

Carefully, Dakota set the phone on the nightstand. She wouldn't call him.

Not yet.

When Simon returned, she'd tell him what Barnaby had said, and he could decide what he wanted to do. For now, Dakota only wanted to eat, and then sleep. Unfortunately, she didn't feel like going out for food, and sleep proved elusive. Visions of Barnaby and Marvin kept intruding. She managed to block them only by concentrating on Simon—and missing him.

He was right. This would be a very long trip.

D
AKOTA
found Barber at the bar of Roger's Rodeo. He sat facing the crowd with his long, jean-covered legs extended. He'd hooked his left elbow on the edge of the bar behind him, and in his right hand, he held a drink.

Dakota followed his line of vision and saw that he studied a group of women gathered together.

She approached without his notice, and poked him in the ribs.

He barely stirred. Only his gaze moved toward her, but then went back to the gaggle of flirting women. “Look at them, Dakota. You'd think there'd be one in the bunch, huh?”

Dakota had no idea what he meant. Seating herself on a stool beside him, she asked, “One what?” She glanced at the women again, but all she saw was that they were youngish, attractive, and outgoing.

“One worth bothering with. One that'd spark some interest. But nope. They're all out of the running.”

“The running for…your attention?” she guessed, trying to gauge his odd mood.

“Yeah.”

“So what puts them out of the running?” The bartender approached and she ordered a plain cola. “They all look nice enough to me.”

“You aren't a guy, that's why.” He tipped his head. “The sexy one with the long hair? She's a smoker. Do you know what it's like to kiss a smoker?”

“Um, no.”

“Like sucking on an ashtray. It's gross.”

Dakota smothered her grin. “I had no idea.”

“And look at the fake fingernails on that blonde.”

“High maintenance?” Dakota guessed.

“Scars on my back.”

“Oh.” Dakota took a sip of her drink, trying not to imagine that. “I can see where that'd be bad.”

“The one with the short hair has fake boobs. I hate fake boobs. They feel like footballs.”

Dakota choked. “They do not.”

He turned to her. “Have you felt any?”

“Well…no. But I can't believe—”

“The pickin's are too slim here.” He swiveled around to face the bar again, downed his drink, and signaled for the bartender to give him another. “I think it's time I got out of Harmony.”

Dakota took the liberty of sending the bartender away before he could refill Barber's glass. “I think it's time you stopped drinking.”

“Maybe.” Scrubbing a hand through his hair, then over his face, he groaned. “So what's up with you, darlin'? Did you take Roger up on his offer to perform here?”

“I'm going to. At least for a few weeks.” He looked so morose that Dakota shouldered him playfully. “Roger said you extended your contract, too. I was hoping we could make it an act.”

“You don't need me.”

The way he said that, as if his words had a hidden, deeper meaning, gave Dakota pause. “Of course I do. I always have.”

“Nope. You're the most independent, capable, smart, considerate—”

Good grief. Half laughing, she said, “That's enough, Barber. Don't saint me, okay?”

“You're too sexy to be sainted.”

Dakota drew herself up. “What in the world is wrong with you?”

“Nothing new.” He grinned, and then leaned toward her.

Uncertain of his intent, especially given his odd mood, Dakota leaned out of reach.

But Barber kept coming, and if she leaned any farther away, she'd fall off her stool.

When he got close enough, he gave her a loud smooch on her surprised mouth, then touched her cheek. “You really are a doll.”

“No, I'm not. And until today, you never thought so.”

“Wrong.” He stood and stretched. “I'm not drunk, you know.”

“No?”

“You refused my second drink for me.”

Only his second? “Hmm. Sorry about that. I just assumed—”

“It's okay. I sing better dead sober anyway.” He sent her an intense, probing inspection and held out a hand. “Let's find someplace quieter to talk.”

“About what?”

“Anything you want.”

“All right.” Worried about him, Dakota took his hand and let him lead her to one of the smaller interior rooms of Roger's Rodeo. At the early evening hour, the mechanical bull sat still and silent, and no one else intruded.

“You hungry?” Barber asked.

Her appetite still hadn't returned, so she fibbed. “I ate before coming here.”

He pulled out a chair and straddled it. “I'll be coming to the gym tomorrow.”

“Dean's gym?”

“Yeah. Simon called me. He wants me to work with you some more.” One side of his mouth kicked up. “He wanted me to wait until he got back from Vegas, but why make it easy on him?”

“Easy on him?” Dakota crossed her arms on the small round table. “Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Yeah.” He winked. “But don't worry about it.”

“I'll worry about it if I want to. Since I walked into here tonight, I've understood about a tenth of what you've said. What's going on with you?”

Rather than answer that, Barber narrowed his eyes. “You're in love with him, aren't you?”

She straightened so fast that she nearly knocked over the table. “What are you talking about now?”
Love?
He had to be kidding—only he didn't say it like a joke.

Barber's expression softened. “You shouldn't be so afraid of the idea, hon.”

“I'm not.” But her heart started punching and her lungs felt restricted. Dakota shook her head in denial. “I haven't known Simon—you are talking about Simon, right?”

A surprised laugh escaped him. “Yeah, I'm talking about Simon.”

She shook her head hard. “I haven't known him that long.”

“So? It is what it is.”

“That's just it. What is it?”

“You really don't know?”

It was hard to explain, but this was Barber, her best friend. So she gave it a shot. “I've never really felt like this before, so I don't know what to call it.” She lifted a hand, feeling helpless. “I'd rather not call it anything.”

“You'd rather just enjoy it while it lasts?”

If
it lasted. She and Simon hadn't met under ideal circumstances, and she was worried that once he knew all about her, his interest in her would disappear. “Something like that.”

Barber took both her hands in his. “I know you well enough to see it, Dakota. Take my word for it, Simon is the one.”

He sounded pretty sure of that. “What if Simon doesn't feel the same? What if he's just looking to entertain himself for a little while?”

“I hate to break it to you, hon, but you aren't the entertaining sort. You make a man work for it.”

Affronted, Dakota scowled at him. “What does that mean?” Okay, so she knew she wasn't the typical female, but Barber made her sound like a real pain in the tush.

“It means you're special.” His gaze warmed as he looked at her. “Very special. Remember that more than anything, I want you to be happy.”

Enough was enough. “You're talking all screwy, Barber. If you have something to say to me, just spit it out.”

His thumbs rubbed the backs of her hands. “I'm saying that I care a lot about you. I think I know you better than anyone else does, including Simon. And you deserve to be happy.”

“What brought this on?”

“Deep introspection and the realization that I dragged my feet too long.”

Jerking her hands away from him, Dakota pushed away from the table. “All right.” She crossed her arms. “Enough with the cryptic remarks.”

He laughed. “Not cryptic at all.” He stood, too. “I'll meet you tomorrow at the gym bright and early. In fact, didn't Simon tell me that you're staying at Roger's motel now?”

“That's right. Usually I rent the cheapest room around, but after everything that happened, we both thought it'd be a good idea for me to stay at a better place. Not that Roger's motel is ritzy. Far from it. But it is in a better part of town.”

“I know. I'm staying there, too.”

“You are?” Cautiously, because his mood was so different, Dakota said, “Maybe we could just ride together to the gym tomorrow morning.”

“With us both knowing what Marvin is capable of, I think that's a great idea.”

“Safety in numbers?”

“There is that. And I'm half hoping the bastard does make a play while I'm with you. It'd give me the chance to demolish him.” Having said that, Barber started away, but when Dakota didn't follow, he looked at her over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

“Like you said, you're my best friend, so I wanted to ask your advice on something.”

He gave one sharp nod. “Shoot.”

“Do you think I should call Marvin—”

“No.”

“—and ask him if he was behind this—”

He turned to face her fully. “Absolutely not.”

“—to find out what he might say, maybe see if he gives himself away somehow or—”