Clowns and Cowboys (A Miranda and Parker Mystery Book 3) (12 page)

He frowned. “Difficult to reconcile that with the state of her trailer.”

Meaning it looked like she had packed a bag and taken off.

Miranda thought a moment. “Okay, how about this? She breaks up with Tupper and decides to leave after the show night before last. She’s heading out with her bags when Harvey spots her.”

“And he grabs her? And incriminates himself?”

“He’s not thinking about that. Tenbrook said he had a ‘powerful crush’ on Layla. He’s just offed his rival, he knows he’ll get his spot in the show. Now he wants it all. Maybe he takes her somewhere. He could have her bound and gagged in some sleazy hotel in the area.”

Parker’s face went grim. “Or, if she was a certain type of person, she might have been the one to kill Tupper and hide the bottle in Harvey Hackett’s rose bushes to put the blame on him.”

“And the little dog tipped it over and took his last lap.” Feeling miserable about that, Miranda pulled at her hair. “Any any rate, there are just too many questions around Layla. We need to find her. But how are we going to do that with no data on her at all?”

“We can look at hotels, as you said. We can also do some research on the Internet.” Among many other things, Parker was a master at e-research.

“Yeah. Okay.”

They had just reached the car when Miranda’s stomach grumbled. She hadn’t had anything since breakfast and it was past dinnertime.

“Perhaps we should eat first.” Parker gave her a tender half smile.

He was right. She couldn’t think with her head clouded by hunger.

She was about to tell him she was starving when the rumble of an approaching engine caught her ear. She turned and saw Sam pulling up on a midnight blue Harley.

He swung over to the side of the narrow road. “Sorry, I lost track of you two.”

Miranda wasn’t sorry, but the sight of that ride had her suddenly drooling. It made her think of the bikes Parker bought for them when he was trying to win her over.

“We were about to get a bite to eat, Sam,” Parker told him, with an implied “alone” in the statement.

Sam ignored the insinuation. “Say, I know of a great Texas Barbeque place you’d really love.” It sounded like an open invitation but Sam was staring straight at Miranda. And his cagey, boyish smile seemed to be saying, “Let’s dump him.”

Plus Sam knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t be satisfied riding in a rental car when she could be on the back of a Harley. He was making a play for her.

Did he really think she’d go with him without Parker? Was he out of his mind?

She needed to straighten him out. About her relationship with Parker and about sticking his two cents into their investigation. Tell him thank you very much, but they didn’t need his help.

“Look, Sam. Parker and I—”

“Go ahead, Miranda.”

She spun around and stared at Parker. “Huh?”

He gave her a smile so cool, the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. “You and Sam have dinner together. I’ll start that research and get something back at the hotel.”

“What?”

Parker watched the look of shock and outrage in his wife’s deep blue eyes. Those vivacious eyes with their black, razor-sharp lashes that had stolen his heart the first time he’d gazed into them. They told him she would never betray him. Not that he needed reassurance.

He was convinced by now Keegan was just what he said he was. Someone close to the victim who wanted to know who’d killed his friend. Not the one who’d done it.

He was also convinced Keegan had ulterior motives regarding Miranda. And that she carried around unresolved feelings about this man. They had some sort of primal connection. In this personal matter between his wife and their new client, she didn’t know her own heart. At the moment, Parker wasn’t sure of it either.

All he knew was, if he didn’t let those feelings play out here and now, they might follow them home. They might fester there. Simmer and bubble under the surface until they exploded—and drove her away from him.

And Keegan would be sure to take advantage of that. Even from eight hundred miles away.

He studied the way the man was looking at her. It took all he had not to march over to him, tear him off that motorcycle, and knock the grin off his face.

But that wouldn’t put out the lingering fire between Miranda and this man from her past. That would only rekindle the flame. Only make it burn hotter. And bring resentment as well.

Though it took all the resolve he had, he knew he had to risk letting that fire blaze to its fullest…or it would never burn out.

Miranda couldn’t catch her breath. Parker was really telling her to go have dinner with Sam? She didn’t know which one of them was crazier. Or maybe she was the one losing her mind.

Last night, he’d acted like a jealous lover, and now…he wasn’t even going to protest? Wasn’t going to guard her from this marauder in he-man style? Wasn’t going to fight for her?

Suddenly that thought made her madder than a charging bull at a rodeo. She gave her hair a snippy flip and strode toward the bike.

“Sure. I’ll go.” She swung her leg over the backseat. She’d set Sam straight, then set Parker straight as well. “I’ll see you back at the hotel then.”

Parker just nodded. “Until then.”

While she was still reeling from his cold response, Sam waved goodbye and wasted no time in heading down the narrow back lot road to the highway.

The place Sam had in mind for dinner was Buckin’ Bronco Barbeque just off I-30 on the outskirts of the city. They parked the Harley in the lot behind the place and went inside.

Loud country line dancing music hit her when she stepped through the door. The walls were lined with spurs and saddles and pictures of cowboys roping steers, and the air was filled with the scrumptious odor of slow cooked meat.

Soon a friendly waitress led them to a wooden table with a plastic red-and-white checkered tablecloth. They got settled, ordered, and the waitress disappeared leaving them with an awkward silence between them.

Sam hung his hat on the rung of a nearby chair. “What a day, huh?” He looked weary and very sad.

“Yeah.”

“I hate what happened to Yvette’s dog. Bobo was a real star in her act. Poor little thing.”

She studied his good-looking face for any trace of insincerity but couldn’t find it. “You like working in the circus, Sam?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s great. Guess I’ve got sawdust in my blood.” He chuckled quietly. “I’m lucky UBT has kept me on three years. They let some folks go after the first year’s up.”

“I see.”

His smile faded as he shook his head. “I meant what I said before. I don’t think Harvey could have hurt Tupper.” He raised a hand as if to ward off her protest. “I know he was jealous of him. I got an earful of that myself. But in the circus, we’re all family. We might scrap with each other some, but deep down we all respect one another. We love each other.”

Really? Miranda resisted the urge to drum her fingers on the table. Even family members sometimes killed each other.

But that wasn’t why she was here. She leaned forward, trying to look as businesslike as she could. “Look, Sam. When we’re talking to someone I need you to—”

“Here we are.” The grinning waitress arrived at their tables and set two overflowing plates down before them. Then she refilled their glasses from an icy pitcher. “Can I git you anything thing else, sugar?” she said to Sam.

“I’m fine.”

“You, honey?” she asked Miranda.

She could only shake her head and stare down at a half slab of juicy ribs, potato salad and jalapeño-laced
charro
beans. Plus loaf bread and sweet tea on the side. It was a feast. More than she could eat right now with the way she was feeling.

“Let me know if you need anything. I’m Judy.”

“Sure.”

The woman disappeared.

Despite her distress over the case and her concern for Layla, Miranda couldn’t keep her mouth from watering. Still it felt weird to be dined, and ice-teaed—if not wined—by Sam instead of Parker.

The man in question picked up a rib from his own plate. “Well? What are you waitin’ for, darlin’? Chow down.”

Darlin’? But she was too hungry to debate what Sam wanted to call her. She lifted the first rib and bit into it.

Oh, yum
!
Succulent and flavorful and just what she needed. Sam always did know good food.

“It’s East Texas style. Thought you’d like it because of this.” He slid a small green bottle toward her labeled “Bull Snort Texas Sweat.”

“Sure.” She snatched it up and shook it over the ribs like it was ketchup.

“Be careful with that,” Sam started to say then raised a hand. “Never mind. Forgot who I was talkin’ to.”

She took another bite. This time along with the juicy meat, the spicy hot sauce sizzled and snapped on her tongue. Just the way she liked it.

“Mmm. Good,” she said with her mouth full.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Same ole Kick-Ass Steele. Remember the time back in Phoenix when you ate that big guy under the table in jalapenos?”

Miranda shrugged. She’d done that in a lot of places.

“Oh, c’mon. You had him turning red and cryin’ like a baby before you even broke a sweat.”

She thought a moment and a vague recollection came back of Sam at her side cheering her on. “Oh, yeah. What was the name of that place we used to go to?”

“Rosie’s.” His boyish half smile made her feel suddenly warm and nostalgic as he pointed a saucy rib at her. “Remember those two thugs you flattened one night? They were harassing one of the overworked barmaids.”

She gnawed on her rib as the memory came to her of a burly guy and his buddy lying on the peanut-shell strewn floor, crying for mercy. She hadn’t done that alone. “You helped.”

“But I’ll bet those guys haven’t forgotten you, Steele. You made a real impression on them.”

She drank some tea and grinned. “Mostly with the new dents in their foreheads.”

“Yep,” he drawled, his forest green eyes twinkling with admiration. “I’ve thought about you a lot over the years.”

Feeling uncomfortable, she reached for a wipe and began to clean her hands.

Before she could finish, Sam caught one in his. “I’ve missed you, Miranda.”

Her breath stuck in her throat as a flutter went through her. She sat up and gently eased her hand out of his. “Sam, I need to tell you something.”

His smile disappeared. “What?”

She took a minute to get her thoughts together. She didn’t like telling clients her marital status for fear she’d be treated like the little wifey, just along for the ride instead of the full-fledged investigator she was. But Sam wouldn’t think of her that way.

She decided simple and straightforward was best. She looked her dinner partner right in his sexy eyes. “I’m married, Sam.”

“Married?” Shock spread over his face like a herd of longhorn crossing a plain.

“To Parker.”

For a moment she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t get up and stalk out of the place leaving her to find a ride home. As last he puffed out a breath and shook his head. “That explains a lot. I never figured you for a hyphenated woman.”

“I’m not hyphenated. I kept my own name for business reasons.”

He studied her a long moment with an expression she couldn’t read. “So you married the boss, huh?”

I married the man I love
, she wanted to say. Instead, different words came out. “Guess so.”

He considered that a moment. “Is that what your relationship with him is? All business?”

“No.” What the heck was he implying?

He leaned forward and took her hand again. “Are you happy, Miranda?”

What was he planning to do if she told him “no?” Thank God she didn’t have to. “Deliriously happy,” she said flatly and pulled her hand out of his again.

He raised a brow. “Really? Didn’t look like it to me this afternoon.”

Good grief. He’d heard them arguing. Over him. She shifted in her chair and wiped her hands some more. “All couples fight some time.”

“If you say so. We never did.”

Now he was making her mad. She wasn’t sure she’d have called them a couple. “We never got that far,” she snapped.

His eyes blazed back at her. “Can’t blame me for that.”

“Look, Sam—” Just then her cell went off. Damn. She was about to mute it when she saw the call was from Fanuzzi. Saved by the best friend back home. “I’ve got to take this,” she told him and turned away as she answered. “Steele.”

Fanuzzi’s sarcastic Brooklyn accent rang in her ear. “Oh? I’m sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number. I was trying to reach my friend who was supposed to call me two days ago.”

Miranda sighed, remembering her conversation with Becker in the office before she left. “I know. I know. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you. I’m on a case.”

Fanuzzi’s tone immediately turned worshipful. “A case? With Parker? A juicy one?”

“Uh…can’t really talk right now.” She glanced over at Sam and saw he was eyeing her with wounded curiosity. “I’m with a client.”

“Oh. Sorry, Murray. I didn’t know. I’ll call back later.”

“No, it’s okay.” A chewing out from Fanuzzi was better than facing Sam right now. “We’re just…uh, finishing up. What did you want to ask me?”

She could almost hear Fanuzzi shaking her head. “I wanted to talk to you about the anniversary party I want to throw you and Parker. Dave said he mentioned it?”

“Oh, yeah.” Now guilt flooded her like a dry gulch after a downpour. Her first wedding anniversary was coming up soon, and she’d hardly given it a moment’s thought. “What about it?”

“I need a date. I have to work it around some personal plans.”

Of course, she did. Fanuzzi and Becker tied the knot just a few weeks before she and Parker had.

“I’m thinking the Saturday before the actual date, since your anniversary falls on Sunday. Will that work for you two?”

“Uh…” How the heck should she know? “I’ll have to check with Parker and get back to you.”

“Yeah, right. I’ll call you. But it’ll be soon. Like I said, I’ve got some things going on, too.”

Relief hit her hard. She’d just let Parker handle the arrangements. “Okay. Thanks.”