Death Rides Again (A Jocelyn Shore Mystery) (6 page)

“The oldest two are my brothers, who are bad enough. The rest are my nephews. Mom and Dad dragged them along so my sister and her husband could have a few days of peace. I’m supposed to help babysit.” The tone in her voice was the one she would have used if she’d said, “I’m supposed to drive burning matchsticks under my fingernails.”

“So you arranged to stay with Ruby June,” I said, nodding. “Smart.”

“You have no idea what they’re like. And I don’t know why I get punished for my sister’s mistakes. I’m not the one who punched out four steaming little crotch droppings in less than six years.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. Hard. After a moment, I managed to say, “Well, we’re hoping that Ruby June will come back soon. But if not, there’s a bed available in the bunkroom in the main house where I’m sleeping. You could always stay there.”

She flashed a suspicious look at me and made a noncommittal grunt. As a teenager, and a Goth teenager at that, she was obligated not to appear either eager or grateful. And to be fair, she didn’t know anything about me.

“Are you the one who shot that guy?” she asked.

Or maybe she did know something about me. We stared at each other. In a movie, crickets would have chirped.

“Yeah,” I finally said.

I no longer felt like laughing. I also didn’t know what else to add. Part of me wanted to explain I’d had no choice. Part of me wanted never to have to think about it again, although the shooting still haunted my nightmares. Less often than at first, it was true, but in my sleep I still regularly found myself back in that auditorium watching someone I thought I knew hold a knife to a student’s throat. I’d never had a gun at the school either before or since, but I had one that night, and I’d shot him before he could kill her. I had no regrets, at least not about that. Death had not made me stop hating him. Even more, I hated that nothing had been the same for me since that night. I missed my friends, I missed not being “that teacher,” and I missed working in a school where memories of violent death did not haunt the halls.

I’m not sure how long I stood there, but Kris was still watching me so it couldn’t have been too long. I managed a smile. “Well, think about the bunkroom,” I said, and turned away.

She might have said something else, but if so the noise of an approaching engine drowned it out. I looked up and saw a dark green Jeep, powdered white as a geisha’s face by caliche dust, rumbling down the road. My heart skipped a little. I couldn’t see the driver yet, but I knew who that Jeep belonged to.

Detective Colin Gallagher. We’d met when he’d come to investigate the first unexpected death at my school, which was hardly the most romantic way to begin a relationship. It also hadn’t helped that I was dating Alan Stratton. At the time, I’d found the attraction between Colin and myself inexplicable and disturbing; now, I found it … what? Inconvenient and disquieting? I had no idea why I was incapable of just enjoying a great guy with headlong abandon, but a big part of me seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. In a way it already had. For whatever reason, apparently I was attracted to men who were determined to uproot my life. Alan still wanted me to move to Dallas. Colin had mentioned in passing that he wouldn’t mind returning to West Texas one day, to the small town in which he’d grown up or to one much like it. And now he wanted to join the Texas Rangers, and what would that mean? After a childhood spent moving not only from city to city, but from country to country, I didn’t want to be uprooted. I loved Austin. I’d attended high school there, graduated from the University of Texas there, and now had a career, a set of friends, a house, and a fat poodle there. It was home. And although I loved to travel, I always wanted to return to Austin. Not Dallas and not some tiny town in West Texas. But there was no denying there was something pretty amazing between Colin and me.

Parking well away from the gate, Colin hopped out of the Jeep and lifted a hand in greeting. He wore jeans, well-worn cowboy boots, reflective sunglasses, and a black T-shirt. He reached into the Jeep and pulled out a black felt cowboy hat and his gun. I hadn’t seen the hat before, but the rest was his normal off-duty wear, the gun as much a part of his clothing as his pants. I’d teased him once about the gun, asking him if he wore it to bed. He’d grinned and told me he’d let me find out for myself. I had to admit, I was sort of looking forward to that. I had never in my life met anyone else who could make my heart race just by standing next to me.

Now, Kris took a step forward and bumped my shoulder. “Who is that?” she asked in a low reverent tone. “Please tell me he’s not a relative.”

I gave her a stern look. “That is Detective Colin Gallagher of the Austin Police Department. And no, he’s not a relative although I don’t know why you’d care, since he’s at least ten years too old for you. Besides, he’s my … he’s here to see me.”

My acerbic tone made no impression, but my words did. Where kindness and generosity had earned me only grudging politeness, having a connection to an admittedly gorgeous man instantly gained me unmistakable … if unflatteringly astonished … admiration.

“I’m so moving to Austin,” she said with a sigh and a faraway look in her eye.

If I’d had a hose, I would have sprayed her with it the same way I did my neighbor’s cat when I found it burying its little presents in my garden. Instead I took her shoulders and turned her toward the house.

“Go ask Aunt Elaine about the bunkroom,” I said, and gave her a little push.

Colin was just coming in the gate when I reached him. He caught me in his arms and lifted me up against his chest, giving me a gentle kiss before he set me back down again. It was unexpected and all too nice. I immediately forgot what I’d been about to say. He just smiled at me from behind his opaque sunglasses.

“Where’s your luggage?” I finally managed, somehow selecting the most inane question from my arsenal.

“Change of plan,” he said, glancing behind me. I didn’t need to turn to know that there were half a dozen pairs of eyes trained on us. “I decided that it might be quieter if I stayed at a motel in town.”

Disappointed, I did not say anything, trying to process what that meant. I could hardly blame him for not wanting to share one of the hunting cabins with a bunch of my male relatives, of course, but if he had to travel back and forth from his hotel, it would mean less time spent together.

“I thought that maybe you’d want to share it with me,” he went on, but held up a hand before I could say anything. “That was, of course, before I checked in and saw the decor. The cardboard sign that says, ‘Do Not Clean Your Birds in the Sink’ is the nicest thing in the room. I’m pretty sure a black light would make that place glow like a jewelry shop in Vegas.”

I laughed. “That’s so gross. You can’t stay there.”

“I’ve been in worse places,” he said, then added, “Not many, but a few. It’ll be fine.”

“No it won’t. Look if you don’t want to stay here, I know there’s a brand-new Motel 6 on the west side of town. It hasn’t been open long enough for anyone to have dressed a deer in the tub. Come on in, and we’ll call to see if they have a room.”

“Hmm. Well, maybe.” He looked at me thoughtfully, the smile fading from his face. Taking my hand, he ran his thumb gently over the skin along my wrist, a tiny movement that had a disproportionately large effect on my heart rate. “If there’s a vacancy, would you join me?”

I tensed, glancing up and inwardly cursing those reflective sunglasses. I couldn’t tell how serious he was. I had not spent the night with him before, and not because I hadn’t wanted to. In fact, sometimes it was all I could think about when he was anywhere within fifty yards of me.

“It depends on a couple of things,” I said, carefully keeping my tone light. “One, if I sit down, will I stick to anything, and two, will I or won’t I be able to clean my birds in the sink?”

He didn’t smile. “Jocelyn…”

“You know I can’t,” I said, pulling my hand out of his.

“You’re still seeing Stratton.” It was not a question. “How’d he feel about me being here this weekend?”

“He didn’t like it,” I answered shortly.

“Good.”

We stared at each other. Then I heard the sound of footsteps on gravel, and turned to see my aunt approaching, a look of welcome on her face. This conversation would have to wait until later.

*   *   *

At the fairgrounds that evening, the halfhearted warmth of the November day cooled from pleasant to frosty as the sun dipped behind the gently rolling hills. The breeze, though soft, stirred through the tree branches, lifted brown leaves from their tenuous grips, and swirled them into rustling piles in the corners. Wisps of chill air slipped through denim and probed beneath shirt collars like wicked little fingers looking for inconvenient places to pinch. Around the rodeo stands, banks of blinding halide stadium lights transformed dusk into noon and threw every clod of dirt in the arena into sharp relief. Beyond that, the fairgrounds twinkled like a vast horizontal Christmas tree, the thousands of multicolored twinkle lights on the vendor stalls and in the trees warring with the sputtering white of fluorescent bulbs pouring from the food booths. The dull bass thump of music played too loudly, and the noise and laughter of several hundred excited attendees filled the crisp air. The anticipation and good humor of the crowd was palpable.

Colin, Kyla, and I walked past the temporary animal pens and rodeo stands to the concession booths. After a few paces, Colin tentatively reached for my hand, a gesture that brought an odd lump to my throat along with the usual small jolt of pleasure. We hadn’t had a chance to speak privately since his arrival, but I wasn’t sure if it mattered. How much longer would we have moments like this if he got his new job? And did I even want to pursue it? After all, I thought I’d found love less than six months ago with another great guy, and that hadn’t worked out very well. My so-called romance with Alan Stratton had faltered after just a few months, leaving me disillusioned and unhappy. Distance had seemed like the problem, but Alan was now making a big-time effort to make things work, and if I were honest, Colin was the real issue with my relationship with Alan. Part of me wanted to say to hell with the future and just savor the present with this amazing man. My inner voice simply asked whether I was in the mood to have my heart chewed up and spit out like a wad of chaw in the jaws of a minor league infielder. I hated that voice.

Colin gave me a curious glance, and I hurriedly squeezed back, then bumped his shoulder with mine. He smiled, reassured, and I shook the voices away.

“I want a sausage on a stick,” I announced, catching sight of a garish sign with a somewhat rude depiction of the food item in question.

Kyla wrinkled her nose. “We just ate,” she protested.

“You don’t have to eat one. You can get a fried Twinkie instead,” I added, thinking that if she did, maybe I could have a bite.

“Yes, when hell freezes over.” She was scanning the crowd as we spoke, then perked up. “Look, I see that T.J. guy. You two have fun.” Then she was gone.

I glanced after her as she vanished into the crowd, but saw no sign of T.J. She must have her special hot-guy radar turned on. I did not think the situation boded well for Sherman, her current or should I say most recent interest. I made a mental note to quiz her about that later.

Colin blinked. “Not very subtle, but nice of her to give us some time to ourselves,” he said.

I gave him a pitying glance. “She’s not giving us time to ourselves. She and I met a racehorse owner at the track today. She’s giving
him
time to herself.”

“Racehorse owner, huh?” He craned his neck, trying to see the man in question.

“And rancher. I think the guy might be loaded.” I tugged at his hand and maneuvered us into the short line in front of the food stand. The aroma of greasy sausage and vanilla funnel cakes wafted over us. I thought heaven might very possibly smell like that.

“Is that what Kyla’s looking for?” Colin sounded both surprised and disapproving.

“No, I didn’t mean it that way.” I thought about it for a minute, trying to put it into words. “He’s interesting and good-looking. Being well off is just a bonus. She told me a long time ago that just once she’d like to date someone that she wouldn’t have to pay alimony to when they got divorced.”

“Damn. And I thought cops were cynical.”

I laughed at that. “The other thing he has going for him is the irresistible lure of being
verboten
.”

“What do you mean?”

I explained about the lawsuit and my uncle’s ultimatum. He digested that for a moment, then asked unexpectedly, “Is your uncle always like that?”

I paused, then answered, “More or less, I guess. He used to be a little more easygoing, or at least it seemed that way. Maybe that was just because we were kids, and we didn’t see everything. But I do know that when he took over the ranch, he seemed to get a lot more serious and a lot less fun. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “It’s probably nothing. But I’ve seen guys with that same look in their eye. They get burned out, overly stressed. And that’s when accidents happen.”

I glanced up at him, surprised by his tone. The brim of his hat cast a shadow over his eyes, and I couldn’t read his expression. I did, however, notice the firm set of his lips, the clean line of his jaw, and the tiny pulse that beat in the hollow of his throat. For a moment, my attention wavered from the topic at hand.

His lips twitched into a smile, and he put his arm around my shoulders. I took the opportunity to slip my arm around his waist, feeling his warmth even through the layers of denim that separated us. He felt too damn good.

With an effort, I focused on his words. “What are you saying? You think Kel is headed for a breakdown?”

“I don’t know him well enough to say, and I only saw him for a few minutes this afternoon. But from all you told me about the irritability, the shouting, the demands … I don’t know. That doesn’t seem like good sign. If I worked with him, I’d be telling him to take a vacation.”

“He was pretty upset that the police wouldn’t start looking for Ruby June. I have to say, it does worry me that she isn’t back yet,” I said. “There’s just not that many places to go here, and Kel has called them all.”