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Authors: Earlene Fowler

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BOOK: State Fair
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Justin was a few inches shorter than Sam’s six feet, his frame more square and solid than Sam’s lanky swimmer’s body. He had his father, Milt’s, prominent jawline, though it seemed less jutting and belligerent on Justin.
Justin looked directly at Jazz. “Want to come with us?”
“Sure.” She turned back to me. “I’ll see you later, Benni. Thanks, again.” She linked arms with both young men.
“Bye,” I said, watching them walk away, Jazz chattering like she didn’t have a care in the world. Where was that Cal Jones I’d seen her with earlier—the kid who Katsy said Jazz was dating now?
The three kids were gone before I was able to gauge whether the young men had seen her encounter with Dodge. Dodge was one of their surfing buddies. What would they think of the way their friend treated Jazz? And why wasn’t Jazz more concerned about Dodge’s temper? What was the deal with kids today?
I laughed at myself. Maybe my questions meant I’d officially passed into middle age, though thirty-nine still felt just this side of it. I wiped the back of my neck, sweaty from the heat. When I reached my truck, I sat inside for a moment waiting for the air-conditioning to cool off the cab.
On the radio, KCOW, our local country station, was broadcasting from the fairgrounds by the midway. In the background, you could hear people screaming from the carnival rides.
“Win an all-expenses-paid weekend at the Flamingo Hotel and Casino in beautiful Las Vegas, Nevada!” yelled Brahma Bob, a popular local DJ. “Come on down to the booth and enter. Grab yourself a free boot-shaped human-powered fan to keep yourselves the cool cats that you are!”
I pulled slowly into the street in front of the fair behind a blue two-tone ’96 Ford pickup I recognized because it had been out at our ranch numerous times. Justin Piebald manned the driver’s seat with Jazz sitting between him and Sam. She playfully grabbed Justin’s cowboy hat and stuck it on her head.
Poor Cal Jones, I thought. Looks like he’s already history. Still, Jazz could do worse. Though Milt was a loudmouthed bragasaurus, somehow he managed to raise a really nice son. At least, Justin seemed that way to me. Gabe said that he was well liked by the other cops and did his job diligently and without flash.
Cal certainly had some formidable competition for Jazz’s affections—Dodge’s model looks and overt sexuality and Justin’s dependability and easygoing nature. Cal didn’t have particularly great looks or even a good job.
The whole situation made me grateful that I was no longer in my twenties. As much as I missed the stamina, the sheer joy and hope of youth, not to mention (already regretting my hastily eaten hot dog on a stick) a young person’s cast-iron stomach, I did not miss the drama and heartbreak.
The traffic light two blocks from the fair turned a quick red, causing both Justin and me to stop abruptly. Out of habit, I glanced up in my rearview mirror, dismayed by what I saw, a frowning Dodge Burnside whose eyes burned right through my vehicle to the one ahead of me. When the light turned green, he floored his truck with a screech and cut in front of me.
“Watch it, you jerk!” I yelled in vain. With both our windows rolled up, it was doubtful that he heard me.
He squeezed his truck behind Justin’s, turning right when they did, both trucks heading downtown. I shook my head and kept driving straight until I came to the Interstate 101 on-ramp. Not my problem, I thought. Doesn’t have a thing to do with me. I am
so
staying out of this.
Words, Gabe always swore, that he was going to have engraved on my headstone.
CHAPTER 3
“A
REN’T YOU GLAD WE’RE TOO OLD FOR ALL THAT NONSENSE?” Gabe said, kissing my neck while I stood at the kitchen counter mixing dog food for Scout’s dinner. I’d just finished telling him about Jazz, Dodge, Justin and Cal. “By the way, Dove called. Three times. She wants to know if there’s something wrong with your cell phone.”
“Not a thing. Do you think I should mention Dodge’s behavior to Levi?”
“Not our business,” Gabe said. “Dove sounded awfully annoyed.”
“Aunt Garnet arrives today. Still, don’t you think he should know that some guy is threatening his daughter?”
Gabe leaned back against the kitchen sink and crossed his long legs at the ankles. “I distinctly remember you saying the last time you got involved with someone’s love life that it would be the
last
time.”
“You’re a dog,” I said to him, then looked down at my gentle-faced brown Lab-mix, Scout, whose tail waved back and forth, a perpetual metronome of goodness. “No offense, Mr. Scout. You are the most true-blue man in my life.” I placed his dinner on the floor. “A young woman’s safety could be at stake.”
Gabe scratched the side of his jaw with his knuckles. Through the kitchen window behind him, I could see our across-the-street elderly twin neighbors, Beebs and Millee, watering their rosebushes with identical old-fashioned watering cans. “So, tell him. We’ll probably see him at the concert tonight.”
“We could mention it. Casually. Just in passing.”
He held up his hands. “This is your deal. Leave me out of it.”
“Fine,” I said, poking him in the chest. “By the way, you’ll have a certain wild-eyed, ex-rodeo queen waiting for you tonight. Mrs. Juliette Piebald sends greetings.”
He laughed and pushed himself away from the counter. “She’s . . . quite something. But you have nothing to worry about. I’m just one pearl in a very long strand of men in her life.”
I shot him a baleful look. “Who’s worried?”
“I’m crushed. So, how’re things going at the fair?”
“Same as every year. I have list of things to do during the fair’s run that would rival the president’s schedule. But it’s pretty quiet at the folk art museum, so I’ll be okay.” I washed my hands, then dried them on a kitchen towel. “We have a little while before we need to leave for the fairgrounds, so I’m going to rest my bones.”
He joined me in the living room where we sat in matching leather chairs, sipped iced tea and watched the neighborhood through our picture window. The last thing I remember was Beebs and Millee practicing their Tae Kwon Do moves under the towering valley oak tree in their front yard.
I jerked awake when the phone rang. The mantel clock said 6:40 p.m.
I simultaneously picked up the phone and shook Gabe’s shoulder.
“Sergeant Friday, wake up!” It was a nickname I’d given him when we’d first met because of how much he adored rules. “We’re going to be late for the concert.”
It was Dove on the phone.
“Get out your checkbook and look up a bail bondsman,” she declared. “I’m ready to commit murder.” Her voice was loud enough to assure me that Aunt Garnet wasn’t in the immediate vicinity.
“Are you going to the concert tonight?” I asked.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes, ma’am.” There was obviously no way I was going to dodge this conversation. I gave a loud dramatic sigh, hoping it was audible over the phone. “Gramma, she’s your sister . . .”
“She’s already dusted my house—twice! I swear she’s rubbed the coffee table down to bare wood. She says my chicken feed is too fancy. She told your daddy he needs a haircut . . . well, he does . . . but that’s beside the point. She says her
corn bread
is better than mine!”
Oh dear, that was truly throwing down the gauntlet. Dove’s three-cheese corn bread had been a church potluck favorite and a Mid-State Fair prizewinner for years. It had won dozens of blue ribbons. Out of good sportsmanship, she didn’t enter it in this year’s fair.
“Can’t we talk about this tonight?” I said, leaning against the fireplace mantel.
“I’m not going.”
“But Kathy Mattea is singing. You love her song about the eighteen-wheeler and a dozen roses.”
“Sister says she’s too tired to go to the fair tonight and I’ll be darned if I going to leave her here alone to poke around and find more things to nag at me about. I tell you, she’s already driving me crazy! She follows me everywhere. I think she’s trying to steal my corn bread recipe.”
I managed to soothe Dove’s agitation by promising her I’d think of something, though I had no idea what.
After splashing cold water on my face, rebraiding my hair and changing clothes, I gave Scout a biscuit and a perfunctory belly rub. “Guard the house. I promise to make it up to you after the fair is over.” Scout licked my hand, took his treat and lay down in the middle of our cool, polished oak living room floor.
“You look great,” Gabe said, running his hand down my hips. I wore black Wranglers, a long-sleeved turquoise Western shirt and my best Lucchese cowboy boots. Though it was blazing hot during the day, the evenings in Paso could get chilly, especially in the arena.
“You look pretty fine yourself, Chief.” Though normally he wore conservative Brooks Brothers suits with pristine white shirts, tonight he looked like a real rancher in Levi’s, a deep blue pearl-buttoned Western shirt and polished black cowboy boots.
Minutes later we were in his ’68 Corvette speeding toward Paso. For once, his love for speed came in handy and we made the normally half-hour trip in twenty minutes. We parked, maneuvered our way through the crowd and were at the entrance to the hospitality suite just as the opening act, a local band called Rifle Shot, started singing their first song.
“You go on up,” I said. “Rifle Shot will be on at least forty-five minutes. I want to check on the quilt exhibit.” I’d told him about the quilt theft earlier and he’d agreed with Hud that it was doubtful it would be found.
“My money’s on one of the carnies,” he’d said.
“I’m hoping to find Hud. I have the photo he requested of the quilt.” Luckily, I’d had some color flyers made up a few weeks ago advertising the quilt exhibit at the museum. I’d used them in press kits and had about ten or so left. The photo of the quilt was crystal clear. “Save me a seat.”
“I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee your seat won’t be grabbed by some hot rodeo queen with the initials J. P.”
I smacked his butt, making him laugh. “I’m not above a cat fight, Friday.”
He bent down and kissed the hollow of my throat. “I like the sound of that.”
I ruffled his black, shiny hair. “In your dreams. The only thing I’d fight Juliette Piebald for is the last Krispy Kreme doughnut.”
Maggie and Katsy had done a wonderful job rearranging the exhibit. Anyone viewing the display would never have known another quilt had been there before. The log cabin quilt that replaced it, made with deep brown, blue and black flowered fabrics to suggest the types of leftover fabric available to slaves, fit perfectly in the spot where the Harriet Powers Bible quilt once hung. They’d also hung a poster of the Harriet Powers quilt so the information on the display cards made sense. I was flipping through the pages of the guest book, skimming the comments when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“We’ve received a lot of positive remarks,” Maggie said, smiling at me. “It doesn’t make up for the quilt being stolen, but I’m happy that the exhibit has gone over so well.”
“Me too,” I said, setting the guest book back down on the wooden pedestal. “Are you going to the concert tonight?” I glanced at my watch. “It starts in about a half hour.”
She shook her head no. “Wish I could, but I’m exhausted. I’ve been here since this morning and I plan on riding in the cattle drive tomorrow so I’d better get some sleep. Besides, someone has to go home and feed the critters. Katsy’s staying. She’s trying to support Levi as much as she can.”
“I haven’t seen him all day. What did he say about the quilt?”
She reached up and tugged at the silver hoop earring in her right ear.
“He was angry, of course. But he’s also trying to keep it quiet so people don’t start running off at the mouth. Controversy is something he definitely would rather avoid.”
“Hud said it could be as simple as one of the carnival workers taking a shine to it. Gabe agreed with him.”
“Has Hud come up with anything?”
I shrugged. “Have no idea. Last I talked to him, he’d made the report and filed it away. Oh, I forgot, he said it would help to have a clear photo to show the security staff and he suggested offering a reward. I have those flyers we used for press kits. We could print up some lost quilt posters.”
She cocked her head. “But Levi said he wanted to keep the theft low profile.”
“You’re right. So, why don’t you and Katsy discuss it with him? Maybe we can wait until after the fair ends.” Though, by that time, I thought, the chances of finding it might be close to zero.
“Okay, but if you see Levi at the concert, feel free to mention it.” In the distance, we could hear Rifle Shot’s loud thrumming bass. She gave a wide yawn.
I fought the urge to mimic her. “Stop that right now. You know yawns are contagious and I still have to survive three more hours.”
“Did you ever make it home?”
“Yes, and I even took a little nap, but that just seemed to make me more tired.” I hesitated a moment. “Something happened with Jazz this afternoon and I think I should tell Levi about it.”
BOOK: State Fair
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