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Authors: Kay Springsteen

Lifeline Echoes (32 page)

BOOK: Lifeline Echoes
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Sandy nodded, smiling. "Looks like. How old
are you?"

"Going on sixteen."

So still only fifteen. "Okay, we can work
with that. You aren't allowed behind the bar or in the liquor
storeroom for any reason. You can't even move a hand truck with
anything alcoholic on it or stack cases of anything alcoholic. I'll
lose my liquor license if you don't follow those rules."

Ricky's eyes were wide blue globes in a pale
freckled face. His voice shook. "You trust me?"

Something twisted in Sandy's heart and she
knew she was doing the right thing. "I do, Ricky. I know you won't
let me down. I'm only paying minimum wage to start but if you prove
yourself, I'll bump you up by a dollar in six weeks. When you go
back to school, we can adjust your hours any way you need to."

Ricky looked at the floor. "I was . . . I
wasn't going to go back to school."

Sandy shook her head briskly. "No, that's a
deal breaker. If you don't stay in school you can't work past the
end of summer."

Ricky's head popped up. His hands balled
into fists but he slowly relaxed them. Emotions worked on his face,
astonishment battling with fear.

"I'm not going to give you the
school-is-important lecture." She smiled, aware she had his
attention even though he wouldn't look directly at her. "But it is.
If there's a reason you can't go back, I want you to come talk to
me about it by next week. Otherwise, when school starts, if you
stay in school, you can keep your job and I'll give you an extra
fifty cents an hour."

Mel choked on something but Sandy ignored
her, keeping her eyes on Ricky while he fought his inner
battle.

He swallowed hard. Finally he looked at her
and nodded. "Okay."

"Good." She held out her hand.

With a slight hesitation, Ricky took it and
the deal was sealed.

"We need to get one of your parents to sign
a work permit, since we serve alcohol here," said Sandy. "I can
talk to your mom if you want."

The hope drained from his face. "She won't
do it."

The front door opened and DC was momentarily
silhouetted against the light from outside. Sandy watched him
search the room and wondered if he was about to let her have it for
her visit to Bull.

"I'll talk to your mom, Ricky. I'll convince
her." Sandy laid a hand on his good arm. His flinch when she
touched him cut to the emotional bone. "Excuse me, I need to talk
to DC."

"Hello, Sandy," said DC. "How's Ryan?"

"He's a little sore but better. I'm picking
him up early tomorrow morning."

"I hear you dropped by the jail for a visit
today."

"I'm sorry you weren't there, DC. I didn't
go to harass Bull. I needed to ask him something."

DC negated her need to apologize with an
easy wave of his hand. "It's okay. The man's allowed visitors and
he agreed to see you. But he had some things to say to me after you
left and now I need to speak to the boy."

"Brenda was here this morning." Quickly, she
related the incident, describing her brief glimpse of the burn on
the other woman's arm. "DC . . . the other day I bumped into Alice
MacKay at the drug store. She dropped some of her purchases and I
helped her pick them up. She had a carton of Reds and a six-pack of
Black Mountain."

He snorted. "You think old Alice MacKay is
out starting fires in hay fields? Or whizzing on your truck and
slashing tires?" DC shook his head. "Lots of folks smoke those
cigarettes and drink that beer, Sandy. And in case you don't
remember, whizzing wasn't the only thing done on your truck."

Sandy leveled an unblinking stare at the
sheriff. His eyes sparked with recognition. The brand names meant
something to him. "Just telling you what I saw," she said coolly.
"Alice said the Reds were for Brenda."

DC nodded and sighed heavily. "I'm sorry,
Sandy. Things are edgy here. Thanks for letting me know. I'll add
it into my notes. Right now, Bull asked me to look in on his wife
and boy, and that's what I'm doing."

 

****

 

For the first time in her life, when Sandy's
morning alarm went off, she was already out of bed and in the
shower. She agonized in front of her closet. Wear something sexy,
he'd said. But sexy what? Practical and sexy or feminine and
sexy?

"Oh, screw practical." She pulled out one of
her sexiest dresses. Sliding it over her head, she shimmied to
adjust the fit, then regarded herself critically in the full-length
mirror. The dress was outrageously short. Sheer black material,
splashed with tiny red and tan flowers, lay over a black satin
slip. A peasant style neckline connected to ballooning sleeves that
started off the shoulder and fell to her wrists. The fabric was
loose but clingy in all the right places and Sandy did a happy
dance, watching in the mirror as the fabric swirled around her bare
thighs. She was already picturing the gleam Ryan would have in his
eyes when he saw her.

After fastening an elaborate braid of shiny
red beads around her neck, she slid on a matching bracelet. Her
hair she pulled into a messy, loose ponytail and secured it with a
filmy red scarf, the style Ryan seemed to have so much fun undoing.
Next, she added subtle makeup. Finally, she slipped into her
favorite red western boots, then surveyed the completed look in her
mirror.

"Girlfriend, you are quite the trollop," she
said to her reflection. Her appearance sent a definite message of
her sensual intent, and Sandy hoped Ryan was up to the things he'd
promised in his phone message. She smiled, and her heart tripped in
happy anticipation. Even if he wasn't up to anything, he'd
obviously made peace with her revelation about Mac.

The soft knock on her door bumped Sandy's
pulse up a notch and she took a moment to settle her nerves. Bull
was in jail. She was safe. Still, she peeked through the window.
When she saw Mel's cap of pale hair, her muscles sagged in
relief.

"Hey, I left my storeroom keys at
home—whoa!" Mel stared. "That's hot! Are you sure you want to risk
giving your man a heart attack? He is just getting out of the
hospital."

"And I intend to bring him all the way to a
full recovery," Sandy grabbed a set of keys from a hook near the
door and tossed them to Mel. "Thanks for waiting on the
deliveries."

With a laugh, Mel dragged Sandy toward the
door. "Go get him. And by all means do everything I wouldn't do."
She grinned. "Just be ready to tell me all about it."

Excitement sent out tiny ripples and Sandy
kept feeling her muscles tensing with happy anticipation. The sun
had already begun to heat the air but the days of oppressive heat
were still a month off. Sandy opened the windows in the cab of
Justin's truck, thrilling at the feel of the wind whipping through
her hair. It was almost as good as riding across the plain on
Domingo's back.

She cranked the radio up and sang along with
the variety of popular country artists as the red pickup began to
eat up the miles to Jackson. Too bad she hadn’t driven Ryan's hot
little sports car. That machine probably took these mountain curves
without slowing down.

She saw the white truck as she rounded
another curve, parked not quite far enough off the road to be safe.
Pulling in front of the disabled truck, Sandy stopped and jumped to
the ground.

The door to the other truck pushed open and
Alice MacKay hopped out, a look of profound relief on her face.

Sandy groaned inwardly, almost wishing she
hadn’t stopped. Alice had always been a bit distant and lately was
even more so. Still, it wouldn’t be right to just leave the older
woman on the side of the road.

"Alice, what are you doing all the way up
here?"

"Oh, thank God!" Alice began to babble.
"I've been stuck up here for over an hour and you’re the first
person I've seen. Brenda had one of her spells last night and we
used near all her medicine keeping her calm. I left Brody watching
her so I could go to the nervous hospital and get her prescription.
But then I got this far and the truck just died. I can't think what
might be wrong with it."

"Did you try looking under the hood?"

"Oh, I know absolutely nothing about
engines. I wouldn't even know what I'm looking at."

Sandy made a face. "I probably wouldn't
either. Have you tried starting it again?"

"Not for the last fifteen minutes or so."
Alice smiled. "The engine just turns and turns and turns. Brody's
going to kill me."

Sandy felt a twinge of apprehension at
Alice's words. She didn't doubt Brody would be capable of killing.
She thought of him now, at home with Brenda, Alice had said, and
the twinge of apprehension turned into a winter-cold blast of fear.
She shook it off. DC knew something was going on. Surely, Brody
wouldn't hurt Brenda. Still, it would probably be best to help
Alice get back home just in case.

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be okay. It's not like
you broke down on purpose. Here, let me give it a try. Maybe I'll
have better luck."

But the engine only spun without catching,
just as Alice had described. Sandy went back to Justin's truck and
retrieved her cell phone from her purse.

"Hmm, no service." She changed position,
held the phone up over her head squinting at it.

"I've walked all around this place, even
walked back down a ways," said Alice. "I don't have service
either."

Sandy checked her watch and sighed. She was
going to be late.

She sighed. "I'll take you back to Walt's.
He can send out a tow truck."

"Oh, no." Alice shook her head in protest
but she looked apprehensively around the deserted stretch of road.
"I can see you're on your way someplace. Just leave me here and as
soon as you have service, you can call my husband for me."

"Alice, don't be silly. I can't just leave
you here. It's almost an hour to Jackson."

Alice sighed heavily, her face troubled.
Then she brightened. "Brody has a cousin who lives just a ways
further up. Could you take me to his place? It's about a mile off
the main road."

Sandy smiled. One mile out of the way beat
the heck out of twenty. "Do you think he'll be home?"

"It won't matter. I have a key so I'll be
able to use his phone to call for help."

"Okay." Sandy motioned to Justin's
truck.

Retrieving a large purse from the cab of her
truck, Alice then joined Sandy.

"It's kind of hard to spot." Alice peered
intently at the side of the road. "There it is!" She pointed to a
narrow track.

Sandy pulled the truck onto the tiny trail,
wincing when she heard a branch scraping along the side of Justin's
truck. "Are you sure this is it? It doesn't look like anyone's been
along here for a long time."

"Braden likes his privacy. He's a little
standoffish."

That would explain why Sandy had never heard
of Brody Senior's cousin, she supposed.

As the trail grew more narrow, Sandy began
to worry that she might not get the truck turned around to get back
out. According to the truck's odometer, they were a little over a
mile in.

"I don't know, Alice. It's getting tight
through here."

"Just a little further now."

Sandy could see a break in the trees up
ahead, so she aimed for the light. The track had become next to
nonexistent.

They burst out of the woods about twenty
feet from the edge of a cliff. Sandy jammed her foot on the brake,
stalling the truck's engine but coming to a stop in a spray of
shale only a few feet away from the steep drop.

She took a deep breath and blew it out.
Leaning forward over the dashboard, she chuckled nervously. "Okay,
that was definitely a wrong turn."

"No, it was the correct turn."

Sandy turned toward her passenger, smiling.
"It must have been—" Her eyes fell upon the long barrel of a very
large revolver, and her smile faded abruptly.

Alice MacKay's mildly anxious countenance
had been replaced with grim determination. Her eyes were coldly
calculating, but otherwise showed absolutely no emotion. They were
the eyes of someone who had nothing left to lose.

"I'm sorry, Sandy, I really am." Alice
apologized as though expressing regret over missing a social
engagement. "But you're about to have a terrible accident, and I'm
afraid you won't survive."

"Alice . . . what are you doing?"

"You've just become too big a liability. I
overlooked it when you helped the McGees with starting their horse
boarding business. That wasn’t going to save their ranch. But you
shouldn't have started going about with Ryan McGee. That just got
you more attention than was good for you." She waved the gun
agitatedly. "Oh, I know you talked to DC about your concerns for
Ricky and my daughter-in-law. But I've been putting people off that
trail for years." Calmer now, Alice shrugged, and added in a
considering tone, "Now I'm thinking that losing you will devastate
Ryan. He'll probably drive that fancy car of his over this same
cliff in his grief. That's even better than shooting him."

Sandy struggled to breathe against the dread
filling her. She frowned, unable to fully grasp the meaning of
Alice's rambling statements. "Alice, are you and Brody responsible
for the incidents at the Cross MC?"

"You like those? Some of them were pretty
creative." A serene smile curved Alice's mouth. "Brody . . . he
didn't think any of it would work."

"But why? Were you trying to get Ryan to
come home?"

Alice's face clouded and the barrel of the
gun dipped slightly. "It was Sean I wanted to kill. I almost had
him when he was up here moving the herd off the range. He had to
come up with fancy plans to expand their ranch. I figured with Sean
dead, and Ryan still gone, old Justin would never follow through.
If the McGee ranch goes under or near enough, they'll sell that
range land along the Green River. Got a buyer all lined up for
MacKay land up there but they aren't interested unless they can get
all of it or at least the mineral rights. Sean McGee flat out
refused to sell to them so they stopped the deal."

BOOK: Lifeline Echoes
3.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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