Colorado 01 The Gamble (55 page)

“Yeah,” Max grunted and Bitsy turned her
smile to me.

“It’s a long story but at least it ends
well,” she told me.

“Mm hmm,” I mumbled, my hand travelling down
Max’s arm to grasp his and his fingers curled around mine in a
death grip.

“You must be Nina,” George said and I nodded
while trying not to wince. “Bitsy tells me you’re her new
attorney,” he went on and my eyes swung to Bitsy who was still
grinning ear to ear and then back to George as he kept talking.
“And, seein’ as I don’t exactly want to lose her as a client,
thought we could talk while these two read their letters from
Curtis.”

“Nina’s movin’ to town, George,” Max
announced and George’s eyes, still on me, grew shrewd. “Yeah, I’ve
seen her in action, you definitely wanna clear an office for
her.”

“You’re moving here?” Bitsy asked, even more
delighted at this news.

“Well –” I started.

“Yeah,” Max stated.

“That’s great!” Bitsy declared.

“Um…” I mumbled.

“Letters are on the desk, they’re addressed
on the envelopes, don’t know what’s in ‘em. It’s weird, the timin’,
but Curt just gave ‘em to me to give to you a coupla weeks ago,”
George told them and moved to me, taking my elbow and Max dropped
my hand as George finished. “We’ll give you a minute.”

He led me out as I looked over my shoulder
at Max who jerked his head at George then he followed Bitsy who was
wheeling toward the desk. I lost sight of them when George closed
the door. Then he led me a couple of feet away and stopped.

“You really movin’ here?” he asked.

“Um…” I answered.

“Need help, seriously, divorces, adoptions,
wills, a bunch of snot-nosed, rich kids doin’ shit, petty crime,
their parents always wantin’ their kids to have their day in court
rather than takin’ their community service or payin’ their fine
like they should, teachin’ the kids a lesson. I’m fuckin’
buried.”

I stared at him then said, “Well –”

“Don’t want to lose Elizabeth Dodd as a
client, either. If she keeps Curtis’s business alive, she’s a
freakin’ cash cow.” My eyes narrowed and George said swiftly, “In a
good way, of course.”

“Yes, there are a number of good ways
someone could use the term ‘cash cow’ when referring to a human
being,” I retorted.

“Still, you see what I’m sayin’,” he told
me.

“I do indeed,” I replied.

“Send me your resume, I’ll have a look,” he
invited.

“Why don’t you send me yours and I’ll see if
I want an office here or if I want to put up my own shingle,” I
returned.

His brows shot up and he asked,
“Competition?”

“I know it’ll be a new thing for you as Max
told me you’re the only business in town but I decide to go that
way, I’m sure you’ll get into the spirit of things.”

His hands came up in a placating gesture. “I
see no reason to shake things up, Nina. You got experience, we can
work together.”

“
We
may
be
able to work together if I never hear you refer to Bitsy or anyone
else as a cash cow. They’re clients with issues we need to help
them sort. Not dollar signs. Or at least that’s the way I work. Am
I understood?”

He grinned. “So you’re one of those?”

“One of what?”

“A liberal.”

I rolled my eyes but answered, “Yes.”

“Make things interesting.”

“I live to make things interesting.”

“Yeah, I heard about The Rooster.” My brows
went up and he explained, “Brody stopped by yesterday morning.
Heard you tore Shauna a new one.”

“Well –”

“And Kami.”

“Um…”

“Wish I’da been there, shit, just the Kami
thing, woulda paid money for that. She’s somethin’ else and I don’t
mean that in a good way. Hell, grew up with her and Max and
everyone wondered how they could even be related. But would sell my
kid to watch someone tear Shauna a new one. That woman, cold as
ice, pure frost.” He grinned bigger and stated, “Never in my life
was I more thrilled to change a will. I typed the damn thing myself
when Curt gave me the change.”

I decided maybe I might like him.

“You wouldn’t have to sell your children,
I’m happy to do it for free anytime she pulls out her ice daggers
and takes aim.”

He tapped my arm and said frighteningly,
“She’s got her eye on Max, both Max and Curt for donkey’s years.
With Curt gone and him screwin’ her so royally, I suspect you’ll
have a number of opportunities. I’ll get Max to put me on speed
dial.”

Before I could respond to this horrifying
news, the door to his office opened and we both turned to see Bitsy
wheel out, her eyes red-rimmed, her face still wet and Max walked
out behind her with an expression like thunder.

I felt a squeeze in the region of my heart;
I began to move toward them but stopped when Max spoke.

“Another change of plans, babe,” he said,
his voice ominous, “we gotta go see Mick.”

I stared at both of them, silent.

But George mumbled, “Uh-oh.”

* * * * *

I stood on the porch of Max’s A-Frame
watching the big tow truck with my rental in the flatbed
maneuvering down the road. Max, in his Cherokee, had seen it coming
when he arrived, passed the turning to the road and stopped, did a
three-pointer and was idling there, waiting for the flatbed to go
the other way and give him full clearance to the road. When the
truck turned and lugged away, Max turned in.

I had gone with Max and Bitsy to the
Police Station which was a block and a half away from George’s
office. Max nor Bitsy had said anything while we walked and wheeled
our way there. Bitsy was still struggling with tears. Max was still
looking thunderous.

Max had walked right up to the reception
desk and I stood by Bitsy who took my hand.

“What’s happening, Bitsy?” I asked but she
shook her head and choked back a sob so I just gave her hand a
squeeze and looked at Max.

He came back to us, his eyes on me, his face
not having lost that stormy look of fury and he said, “You gotta
get to the house, babe. The rental car people will be there in half
an hour.” I nodded and he went on, “I’ll make a call.”

The call he made was to Brody who, after
Bitsy and Max disappeared deep into the Police Station with Jeff,
came to get me and he took me to Max’s in his Subaru. He let us in
using his key to Max’s place and he’d stayed with me while the
rental car guy took pictures of the car and talked to me. Then he’d
stayed a little while longer while I made coffee and wandered to
the utility room to discover that Caroline had taken care of the
laundry. We drank coffee and I called Mom and asked Brody for
Bitsy’s number which I used and left three messages because it took
me so long to tell her what I had to say which was essentially that
I needed her to come to Mindy’s Mom’s house and that she had to
trust me and doing all of that trying to be sensitive to whatever
current calamity she was facing. Then after the tow had come,
successfully backing into Max’s lane and up to the car with a
difficulty that was hair raising just to watch and all seemed to be
going okay, Brody had told me he wanted to get back to Mindy and
he’d see me later.

He was not in a Brody mood, not that I
really knew what a Brody mood was, but I knew the events of the day
before were weighing on him. I knew this mainly because, how could
they not? I let them, not that I wanted to but because he was a
mountain man and I figured he’d want to be left to his own
thoughts.

He left and five minutes later when the tow
was heading out, I saw Max heading up.

I watched him park, get out of the car and
crunch through the snow to the steps. The sun hadn’t burned off the
clouds, it was still chilly and I’d wrapped my pashmina around my
neck and was in my coat, ready to go.

“Hi,” I said when Max had gone up two
steps.

“Babe,” Max said back.

“You okay?” I asked when he made it to the
porch.

“No,” he replied when he made it to me.

It killed me, I could tell his thoughts too
were heavy but there were other things going on, too many of them
and they were too important to delay.

“I’m sorry but can we talk in the Cherokee?
We need to go back down, get to Mindy.” He nodded but didn’t touch
me which was strange and, I thought, vaguely alarming. “You need to
lock up. I’ve turned off the coffee, the house is good.”

“Right,” he said, moving toward the door,
his keys jingling in his hand.

I licked my lips.

Something was wrong, very wrong. One
couldn’t say Max knew me through and through or I knew him the same
way, not even close. But he was affectionate, touchy, he got close
almost all the time. Most especially when something was on his mind
or he thought something was on mine.

This distance was strange and I didn’t like
it.

To hide that, I walked down the steps to the
Jeep, crunched through the snow in my high-heeled boots and got in
the truck. I turned to look through the driver’s side window
expecting to see Max approaching the SUV or at least walking toward
it, but I saw nothing.

I looked up to the house and there was no
Max at the door locking up. I twisted in my seat, looking all
around.

No Max.

I looked back to the house to see him
exiting. He locked the door and then he jogged down the steps to
the car. I buckled in as he slid in. I heard a jingle and I turned
to see him holding up a set of keys.

“Keys,” he muttered, shaking them between
us.

“Sorry?” I asked.

“To the house, take ‘em,” he ordered,
jingling them again.

Automatically my hand came up and my fingers
closed around the keys. Without further ado he let them go, started
the ignition and did a three-pointer.

I held the keys in my hand thinking this
should be a bigger moment, Max giving me the keys to his house.

I waited a second for him to say something.
He didn’t.

“Max –”

He cut me off. “Nina, just… don’t.”

Don’t? Don’t what?

“Max –” I started again.

“Nina, seriously.”

Seriously what?

I didn’t ask. I swallowed, dumped the keys
in my bag and looked out the passenger window.

Max drove in silence. He didn’t take my
hand, he didn’t turn on the radio, he just drove.

Something was very wrong and logically I
knew it had to do with whatever was in those letters. Illogically,
my garbage-fuelled brain told me it had to do with me.

Logically, I thought, Curtis Dodd had
something to do with Elizabeth Dodd being paralyzed and Anna
Maxwell being dead. Now Curtis was dead and he’d not only screwed
Max in his will, he’d also left him a letter which necessitated a
trip to the Police Station. This would make anyone
moody.

Illogically, I knew Max didn’t have a
problem sharing pretty much anything except stories about his
beloved, dead wife. Therefore, his not sharing with me now, my
garbage-fuelled brain told me, had to do with me.

And my garbage-fuelled mind reminded me that
I’d foolishly offered to help Macho Mountain Man Max pay for his
new land. He’d said he didn’t mind that I made more money than him
but my father and my fiancé had both tried to pay him to leave me
alone then, not two hours later, I was offering him money. Men were
proud, especially, I figured, macho mountain men.

I was
such
an idiot.

We hit town and about two blocks in, Max
turned right. He drove into a residential area and parked in the
drive of a house that looked like it was built in the seventies and
the Brady Bunch lived there. Max got out and I did too. He didn’t
wait for me to get to his side before he headed to the front
door.

My stomach clutched painfully.

The door opened and Barb stood there.

“Max,” she greeted then her eyes came to me
still making my way up the path and she said, “Nina.”

“Barb, how’s she doin’?” Max asked as Barb
moved out of the door and Max moved in.

Barb held the storm door open for me as I
made my final approach and she answered, “Hangin’ in there.” She
closed the door behind me and turned to us, her gaze on me. “It’s
good you’re here. She’s talkin’ a bit and the bit she says is
mostly about you.”

I nodded, unsure if this was good or bad,
decided to go with good and whispered, “Where is she?”

“Upstairs,” Barb answered, closing the front
door on the storm door.

“I… planned something. I hope you don’t
mind,” I told her, avoiding Max’s eyes.

Barb studied me then her eyes filled with
tears she didn’t let fall and she whispered back, “Glad someone has
a plan. I have no stinkin’ clue what to do.”

I reached out and grasped her forearm,
giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“How about I make some coffee while you
bring her downstairs?” I suggested, Barb nodded and I went on, “Can
Bitsy Dodd get into your house?”

I felt something come from Max and watched
Barb’s body jolt.

“Bitsy?” Barb asked.

I nodded again. “Yes.”

“Sure, Brody’s here, he or Max can get her
in the house,” she said. “They’ve done it before lotsa times.”

“That’s good,” I told her and turned to Max
who was studying me, his eyes intense but his expression was blank.
“Can you take care of Bitsy?”

“Yeah,” he replied and his eyes went to the
door before going to Barb. “Someone’s here.”

Barb turned back to the door and I took off
my coat. Moving into the house, I dropped it on the couch and I
went in what I hoped was the direction of the kitchen. Luckily, my
hopes came to fruition.

Max followed several moments later.

“It’s your Mom and Steve,” he told me as I
searched the cupboards for coffee.

“Good.”

“Nina, you know what you’re doin’?”