It Takes Two: Deep in the Heart, Book 1 (22 page)

The bank is going to foreclose on the Aguillar land if the taxes aren’t paid up by the end of the year.
Carter had told him that just a few days ago. Zach had shrugged it off, not even a little surprised that Carter had buddies in less-than-honest places who would give him that information

Instantly, he realized Annie had never mentioned a possible foreclosure to him. The woman would bend like the willow trees around the fish pond in the face of disaster, but she was never going to break. Carter Haskins was not going to break Annie Aguillar.

Like a lighting flash, Zach remembered his reply to Carter.
The Aguillars are sitting on a bumper crop of corn. They’ll make their taxes.

Had he accidentally condemned Annie to this devastating fate with his own big mouth? Zach felt like he’d been kicked in the head just thinking about his possible role in Annie’s downfall.

Not possible. Probable.

The suspicion that he was more involved in this than he wanted to be broke small beads of sweat out along his forehead. If Carter truly was behind this, then the stamp of guilt lay on Zach’s forehead, too.

And yet, why in hell would Carter go to such lengths?

Cody claimed that Pop owned the property south of Annie’s farm. Now, that was a major piece of misinformation if he’d ever heard it. Zach shook his head, his memory automatically recalling the retching smell of sour booze and dank filth he associated with Pop.

No. Pop didn’t even own himself. He’d sold himself to the devil a long time back.

And Carter had paid a visit to the old shack just a few days ago.

Zach looked down at the cigar once more. Cody was not a stupid man. Something had gotten very dirty somewhere, and if Cody said Pop’s name was on a deed, then it was past time to pay a visit to Pop.

Turning, Zach headed toward Annie’s house. Difficult as it was going to be, he had to face her. Had to look her in the eyes—and Mary, too—and tell them he was leaving.

Zach walked in the front door, his heart heavy. Annie, Mary, Cody and Jim Crier all looked up at him.

He felt condemned.

“Well, isn’t anyone going to say, ‘Hello, Zach. We were just talking about you’?” he asked. Too angry to stop the words, Zach knew they were misdirected. His anger was too divided to be aimed at just the people in this room. And yet he couldn’t help wishing Annie had a little more faith in him.

“Hello, Mr. Zach. We were just talking about you,” Mary repeated obediently.

Her comment took the tenseness right out of Zach. “Thanks, sweetheart. Anything else I should know about?”

He took in the four pairs of eyes watching him and sat down, not really expecting Mary to answer.

“Well, Uncle Cody says he’s going to put snake teeth in your hot sauce,” Mary continued, blithely unaware that she’d made Cody’s words sound like a threat.

The electricity in the room intensified to the point that Zach felt the hairs on his arms tickling. He stared at Cody, who had rolled his head to scowl at Mary’s lack of discretion. Then Cody turned his eyes unflinchingly to Zach’s.

“Snake teeth in my…” Zach stopped, realizing the precious information in what he’d just heard. “That’s a hell of an idea, Cody,” he said. “What a great marketing tool.” He grinned, feeling a lot less condemned. Because if Cody was buying Zach’s Snakebite Sauce, then maybe that meant Cody was buying Zach.

Didn’t believe he’d set the fire.

Zach felt like leaping into the air. “Thanks, Cody,” he said, meaning it with all his heart.

Cody merely shrugged. Zach didn’t care. He slid to his knees at Annie’s side to get down to Mary’s level.

“Mary, I have to go home,” he said. “Next time I come, I’d like another fish lesson.” He touched the little girl’s raven-black hair where it waved along her cheek. She stared at him with wise, earnest eyes. “But, Mary,” he added softly, “I
am
coming back.”

Her rosebud lips curved into the sweetest smile. “I know, Mr. Zach. Because this time you remembered to say good-bye.”

He nodded. “Yes. I won’t ever forget again.”

Slowly, Zach rose to his feet. “Good-bye, Annie,” he said, holding her eyes for just a second. There were questions there, but he was in no position to say anything more. Not until he had answers of his own.

Zach turned his gaze to Cody. “Bye, Cody. Give up smoking for a while, okay?”

Cody chuckled. “Get the hell out of here, Slick,” he said. “And I’d be watching my back if I were you.”

“Count on it,” Zach said. He nodded at Jim Crier. “By the way, there’s a half-smoked, expensive-brand cigar lying out in the fields you may want to take a look at. Or lead the sheriff to,” he added, before leaving the living room and walking out the front door.

“What the hell was that all about?” Jim asked curiously. “I’m not sure he should leave Desperado if he’s our only suspect. I feel certain he ought not leave before the sheriff arrives.”

Cody coughed and closed his eyes.

“Well, hell, Cody,” Jim complained. “So there’s a cigar out there now. How come I, or one of the other firemen, didn’t see it? How do we know Rayez didn’t plant it, knowing he’s the prime suspect?”

“Zach doesn’t smoke cigars, or anything else. He gets on my neck about it. Don’t reckon he was carrying one around just in case.”

Cody rolled over on the sofa toward the window. Annie pulled Mary closer to her, knowing in her heart that Zach leaving was the right thing for him to do. He’d said he would come back, for whatever reason—and like Cody, she believed in Zach.

Despite the mean, frightened words she’d flung at him earlier.

“The man’s just figured out he’s being framed,” Cody murmured tiredly, sounding old and battle weary to the point that Annie ached for him. “Now he needs to find out who’s got him by the short hairs. And why.”

Chapter Fourteen

The old shack across from the bingo parlor smelled the same as always. Zach grimaced at the sour stench as he walked inside. That was something that was never going to change about Pop. The man simply had no use for clean living.

“Pop, it’s me,” Zach called. “You here?”

There was a muffled curse, then the sound of slowly moving feet. Pop shuffled into the living room, wearing a dirty, nappy bathrobe and looking much the worse for wear. “Are you all right, Pop?” Zach asked.

His father grunted as he sat down heavily on the busted sofa. “Well, ain’t I the special one today? The Prince himself has come to pay this worthless servant a call. My, my.”

“Ah. You’re doing pretty much the same, I see.” Zach pursed his lips and stared up at the cracked, gray-lined ceiling before leaning against the wall. He wasn’t about to sit next to his father, and other than sitting on the heavy box that served as a coffee table, there was no place else for him to go.

Still, the conversation he needed to have with Pop might be long and protracted, and Zach wanted to be looking him straight in the eyes as they talked. Zach walked into the kitchen, knocked a month’s worth of newspaper off a kitchen stool and dragged it into the living room.

Pop never even glanced his way. Sullenly, he picked at a torn piece in the sofa cushion with old, gnarly fingers, his veined legs sticking out in front of him like flimsy kindling. Zach wondered just how long Pop could go on living like he was before he killed himself.

“How’ve you been, Pop? Really,” he asked gently, the unnatural shades of gray he saw in his father’s florid face alarming him. Blue capillaries spread around Pop’s nose and toward his cheeks, a slow testament to his years of drinking. Those alcohol scars had been present for years, yet Zach realized he was looking at the deterioration of a man he’d never really known.

Something told him his life would be a lot easier without Pop in it. There would be no sharp criticism, no accusations, no boiling hatred for whatever sin Zach represented to his father.

Still, he couldn’t feel anything except bitter sadness for their relationship. He wouldn’t miss Pop when he was gone, not with a sense of deep grief. But he’d always regret not having the bond a father and son should share.

Regret was a royal pain in the ass when a man shouldn’t give a damn.

Unfortunately, Zach did.

“Look, Pop,” Zach said suddenly. “I heard something I want to ask you about. It may or may not be true, but I want you to be honest with me.”

Pop shrugged. “What you see is pretty much what you get with me. Ain’t you figured that out by now, Mr. College Education?”

“Okay, Pop.” Zach deliberately made his tone soothing, although he was gritting his teeth with the effort. “Somebody mentioned that you’d bought some property a couple hours north of here. I wasn’t aware you were interested in buying up any land, so I thought the story was far-fetched, but I wanted to ask you about it anyway.”

Pop swiveled his head to stare intently at him, bushy white brows furrowing with anger. “Why? Can’t I own land, same as you? Same as anyone in this damn state?”

“Hold on, Pop; that’s not what I’m—”

“It’s just what you’re saying! You don’t think I’m smart enough, or good enough, to have anything other than what I’ve got!” He sat up straight on the broken sofa, throwing his arms out in front of him to encompass the tiny, dirty room. “Didya think I didn’t want more out of life, Zach? I can’t do no better than this?”

Zach narrowed his eyes. “I may have overlooked some ambition on your part, perhaps, Pop. You haven’t answered my question. Is it true?”

Pop settled back down in the sofa, glaring at Zach. “Hell, yeah, I got me some land. But Carter said he’d keep his mouth shut about the deal. Said he’d keep it between the two of us, gentleman-like. Shoulda known he couldn’t keep quiet.”

“Why keep it a secret?” Zach asked.

“Everybody on planet Earth don’t need to know my business, specially
you
,” Pop replied meanly.

“Why would I care what you do with your money?”

“Same reason you’re asking,” Pop shot back. “You’re jealous of me being in on a deal with Carter.”

“It does occur to me that it’s a strange partnership, Pop.”

“Well, come on over to America, Prince Charles. A man can make a success of himself here if he’s got a mind to.”

Zach shifted on the cracked yellow vinyl of the kitchen stool. “Big deal, is it?”

Pop’s grin was smug. “Well, it ain’t the biggest, but Carter said he picked the land up for a song.”

Too many things weren’t fitting into place. If the land was for the purpose of selling to high-stakes business companies, Carter wouldn’t have “picked the land up for a song”. Ritter would have bought the property at close to fair market value. They weren’t in the business of shaking people down. At least they never had been before.

And Pop wouldn’t have been involved in the deal at all. The skin on Zach’s scalp tightened as he realized there had been more behind Carter wanting him to go to Annie’s farm in the first place than Carter had ever let on. But, God bless Annie’s stubborn soul and ornery father, Carter had been denied in his original bid for Annie’s land. Apparently, he’d then moved to purchase the land to the south of Annie’s farm.

Zach kicked out his legs in front of him, pretending casualness. “Why isn’t the land in both your names, Pop?” he asked, guessing that Cody would have mentioned another name being on the deed if there’d been one.

Pop pushed his bony chest out. “We got us a limited part—partnership,” he said proudly. “Carter didn’t want anything to have his name on it, so it wouldn’t get confused with his Ritter International business. It’s all legal-like. Says ‘George Smith and Partners’ right on the document.”

Zach crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing his father. “Well, I always wondered what you were doing with the money I gave you. Now I know.”

“Hell, no, sonny boy,” Pop denied heatedly, shaking a finger toward Zach. “I didn’t pay for nothing with any of your money. You ain’t give me any lately. Carter wanted a partner, but I didn’t have a dime to put in it, so he generously loaned me the money if I’d keep the partnership silent.”

“I see.” Zach
was
beginning to see. Not only was Carter hamstringing the Aguillars, but he’d now indebted Pop to him as well.

Suddenly, the whole dirty business was beginning to feel extremely personal to Zach—like somebody had it in for him.

“Pop, I sent you a check not a week ago What happened to that money?”

Pop shook his head belligerently. “You ain’t going to get away with making me feel guilty, Zachary Rayez. You stomped outta here last time, madder than a hornet landin’ in cold water. Said I wasn’t your father.”

Zach noticed Pop was leaving out his own damning words in their argument, but he let it slide. “Yeah, and when I cooled off, I mailed you a check.”

“Sure.” His father shook his head stubbornly. “You’re saying that to make me feel bad.”

“If you feel bad about anything, it’s because you cooked this thing up with Carter to cross me.” Zach stopped, his memory sharply recalling Carter holding the envelope with Pop’s check up to the sunlight. Carter had been awfully interested, although at the time, Zach had put it off to one of Carter’s typical maneuvers. Still, the check had never arrived, and Carter had talked Pop into putting his name on a shady limited partnership.