Pink Neon Dreams (24 page)

Old hurts surfaced with fresh pain as she remembered
the humiliation of the past.
 
And Cecily
realized how very much she wanted Daniel to believe her.
 
She stopped short of asking.

As if reading her mind, he gave the response she
longed to hear.
“Of course not,
querida
.
You’re not that kind of woman.”

Relief made her want to weep but she didn’t. “Thank
you,” she said with dignity. “You know me better than he ever did.”

“
Si, mi
corazon,”
he said his voice deep yet very soft. “I do. And if he wasn’t
already dead, I’d be tempted to kill your ex-husband.
 
Do you think this
verga,
Johnson,
might’ve
killed Bradford and stolen the gems?”

Until now, she’d never considered it. “I don’t
know,” she said. “Maybe, sugar, it’s possible.”

“That’s enough for now,” Daniel said. “What about
any of Bradford’s business associates? What about someone from the store or the
company? Bradford Gems and Jewelry was a corporation, right?”

“It was,” Cecily said. That much, she knew. “Willard
was CEO and President.
 
The guy who
managed the main store, Mark Bishop, served as the director under Willard.
 
Natalie Japonski who managed one of the mall
stores got tabbed as secretary, and almost all of the employees of all the
stores plus the office headquarters were shareholders.
 
I don’t know what’s happened to any of it
since I left and Willard died.”

Daniel’s profile never changed, but his hands drummed
a nervous beat against the wheel, the sole indication of agitation. “How many
employees, total?”

“Damned if I know,” Cecily said. “I’ll try to give
you a count.
 
The flagship store usually
had fifteen to twenty, the mall stores—and there were five of those—each had
ten to twelve.
 
At the office
headquarters, let me think....probably twenty-five or so.
 
I guess a hundred or so, total.
 
Does it matter?”

His shoulders shrugged. “No, I doubt it. You must’ve
met the corporate officers, right?”

“Well, yeah, I did,” she said.

“So, did any of them seem capable of killing for
profit?” Daniel asked. “Or hiring it done?”

He posed a difficult question and she pondered it
for several moments before answering. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What about Johnson Hamilton?” he asked.
 
His harsh tone converted the name into an
insult. “Could he? And did he have a way to profit?”

Think, girl, think.
Before she answered the question, Cecily considered
it in recognition of its serious nature.
 
When she replied, the words came from her soul, leached of any personal
resentment. “Yes,” she told Daniel. “He’s got evil in him, down deep. If he
took jewels, he’d know where to sell them.
 
As Willard’s PA, he’d know or could figure it out.
 
Besides, Willard kept a lot more in the safe
than just gems and jewelry.”

Daniel’s face hardened. “You never told me that
before.”

True, she hadn’t because she hadn’t remembered.
 
“I didn’t think of it before, sugar,” she said.
“I wasn’t holding back.”

His expression shifted. “I didn’t think you were,
querida,
but it makes a difference.
 
What else was in there?”

 
With her eyes
shut, she saw the inside of the safe with remembered clarity. “He kept a lot of
cash on hand,” she said. “Thousands of dollars along with some stocks, bonds,
and some valuable silver dollars, collector’s items, if I remember it all.
 
Did the thief steal the rest?”

“I don’t know, Cecily,” he said. “As far as I know,
no one ever reported anything else missing.”

Ice frosted her spine and spread the chill of fear
through her body.
 
Outside the truck the
late summer sun beat down with enough force to create heat ripples in the air,
but Cecily shivered as if it were January.
 
If no one reported the money gone,
then somebody took it.
 
The truth hit
her hard and she turned to Daniel. “Then somebody took it and the rest of the
staff kept their mouth shut about it.
 
And I know only one asshole that could make them keep quiet—Johnson
Hamilton.”

The son-of-a-bitch must be guilty, had to be, she
thought.
 
And he’d be the one who’d tried
to pin it on her.
Damn him. He probably
planted the bug in the law officer’s ear about me.

“No surprise there,” Daniel said. “After what you’ve
told me, I’d say it’s very likely he’s responsible.
 
And, I’d say he went out of his way to
suggest you were involved since he apparently resented you.”

“I’d say he hated me,” she said.

“I
agree,
querida.”

Daniel said nothing more for a long period and
neither did Cecily.
 
Her mind whirled in
crazy circles as she considered all the details she’d ignored for too damn long,
what she would’ve seen earlier if she hadn’t blocked out all thoughts of
Willard and his death. Their past haunted her now.
 
Dark thoughts plagued her until she struggled
not to cry or act out.
 
Part of her
longed to screech or holler, but she didn’t.
 

Daniel’s stern profile indicated he must be deep in
thought, too and as she watched him, Cecily realized without the current
situation, she wouldn’t know him or have him in her life.
 
It’s
not all bad.
 
I found Daniel because of
this and no matter what, I want him around.
 
Willard’s dying and Johnson’s bullshit may seem like a tragedy, but I’m
gonna make it a fucking triumph.

Miles of highway unrolled ahead.
 
As they approached a building built above and
thus across all lanes of the turnpike, Daniel nudged her knee. “Do you need to
make a pit stop?”

She didn’t but stretching her legs appealed. “Sure,”
she said.

He took the exit and parked.
 
Before she could get her shoes back on and
climb out of the truck, Daniel came around to open the door.
 
He offered her a hand and she accepted
it.
 
As soon as her feet touched pavement,
Cecily leaned toward him until their faces were inches apart.

“Kiss me, sugar,” she said. She needed some
affection, required reassurance.
 

His eyes met hers, intense and bright with emotion.
“Oh,
querida,
” he said. “You don’t
know how much I need a kiss.”

Their mouths merged, drawn together with tidal
force, pulled with the same kind of unspoken need migrating birds have when
flying south, and connected.
 
Daniel
wrapped his arms around her and cradled her close.
 
His lips moved over hers, caressing with each
pull and every stroke.
 
Cecily responded
with joy.
 
Whatever attraction existed
between them burned high and hot, but she experienced more than just heat.
 
Their bond grew with each intimacy, every
kiss, and all the conversations served to draw them closer.
 
Locked in an embrace, they kissed, heedless
of the traffic around them, the big rigs pulling in for fuel, the tourist
families heading into the building, and the senior citizens who piloted RV’s
into the parking lot.
If we had a RV, I
know what we’d go do.

“We need to go take care of business,” Daniel said,
ending the kiss although he continued to hold her.
 
“But just be aware, this is a famous roadside
attraction.”

“Is it?” Cecily thought he must be kidding.

“It’s the world’s largest McDonald’s,” he said. “Or
at least it was
,
I can’t keep up.
 
Hungry?”

She shook her head. “Not really. What time is it?”

“Quarter ‘til eight,” Daniel said.

“That’s all?” She’d figured it must be at least ten
o’clock.

“Yeah,” he said. “C’mon then, let’s use the can and
get back on the road.”

What’s the hurry?
She wanted to ask but didn’t because she knew.
 
Cecily nodded and accepted his hand.
 
They walked into the two-story travel plaza
holding hands, parted to use the restrooms, and headed back to the truck
together.

“See if you can find some decent tunes,” Daniel said
as he merged back into traffic on the busy interstate. “All I could get earlier
was country.”

Cecily fiddled with the knobs. “You should’ve bought
a car stereo for the truck.”

“Never thought about it,” he said. “So find us
something we can stand or you can sing to me.”

Somewhere between the static, talk radio, twangy
country stations, and dead air, she managed to tune in an oldies station.
 
Most of the rock and roll songs dated before
their time, but she liked the sound.
 
“Will this work?” she asked Daniel.

As the sounds of vintage 1980’s Reo Speedwagon
filled the truck, Cecily sang along.
 
As
the music segued through song after song, she ended up next to Daniel, singing
for him, her hand resting on his thigh.
 
Sometimes he sang too or tossed in a comment, but the music carried them
through Tulsa in a diagonal across Oklahoma.
 
They skirted around Oklahoma City without seeing much but the usual commercial
district and headed out of town.
 
As they
drove southwest, the terrain changed until the landscape reminded Cecily of
Western movie backdrops.
 
Almost four
hours after they left the world’s largest Mickey D’s, Daniel took the first
exit at Lawton.

“I’m hungry,” he said. “And it’s still a long damn
way to Amarillo.
 
Ready
for something to eat?”

“Oh, yeah, sugar,” she replied.
 
Her butt ached from riding the long miles in
the bumpy pickup and her tummy yowled with emptiness. “What do you want?”

“A big triple cheeseburger,” Daniel said with
obvious relish. “It needs to be run through the garden.”

“Huh?”

He laughed.
“Means it comes with
lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and pickle, woman.
 
And I’d like some onion rings on the side.”

“Sounds pretty good,” Cecily said.
 
She spent too many years eating some chef’s
fancy concoction or salads or something designed for eye appeal rather than
taste and craved a simple burger.

“Good,” he said. “I’ll introduce you to
What-A-Burger.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll see.”

The orange striped restaurant building boasted a
vintage look. The moment she stepped through the door, Cecily liked the
place.
 
Delicious smells drifted from the
grill and even after one o’clock, the place didn’t lack customers.
 
He ordered his triple and onion rings. She settled
for a double meat burger.
 
“I can share
your rings, sugar,” she said.

“No, you can’t,” he said. “I’ll order some for you.”

As they waited for their food, Daniel made a phone
call.
 
He spoke in such rapid
Spanish,
Cecily had no chance to follow it.
 
She fiddled with her straw and sipped diet
soda while he talked, self-conscious although he didn’t appear to be at
all.
 
When he finished, he extended his
hands across the table and took her hands in his.

“I called my mama,” he said.

“I figured maybe you did.”

“I told her it would be tomorrow before we show up,
that we’ll stop at Amarillo or somewhere tonight.”

“Does she mind you’re bringing me?” The question had
niggled ever since he told her his plan.
 
Maybe Daniel’s mother wasn’t pleased about her guest.

“Mind?” he asked with a grin and one arched eyebrow.
“Hell, no, she doesn’t mind. She’s planning to cook and the one thing my mama
does best is cook.”

“Is it for me or is she killing the fatted calf for
you?”

Daniel’s grin broadened. “Both, I think.”

While they ate their burgers, Cecily noticed the
bright sunlight outside diminished as dark clouds moved in from the western
horizon.
 
By the time they finished, the
skies threatened rain and distant thunder rumbled.
 
When they emerged from the restaurant, the
close, thick heat swamped her.
 
It’d been
hot earlier but this humidity portended bad weather.

“Is it going to storm?” she asked him, a silly
question because more thunder growled and she saw the first jagged lightning bolt
cut through the gray clouds.

He glanced upward and nodded. “Yeah, a
thunderstorm’s moving in fast.
 
Maybe it
won’t last long and we’ll run past it.”