The Bull Rider Wears Pink (18 page)

“While I'm gone,” he suggested
opening the door, “make sure your kid isn't sinking into a coma or something
horrible like that.” As he disappeared into the shadows Cassidy gave him a
well-deserved whack on the butt.

Ch
apter Eleven

“I want to go to Comic Con,” Kevin
announced as he walked into the kitchen. Cassidy and John glanced at each other
while Kevin opened the refrigerator. They were sitting at the farm table after
arriving at Three Brothers Ranch a few hours ago. Nobody was around but being
the responsible person he now was, Logan left a note taped to
the door explaining he was in the fields looking for a lost calf and Rachel was
at some sort of baby exercise class in Livingston.

Cassidy already knew Caleb and
Carrie were in Bozeman avoiding exposure to the chicken pox. She didn't blame
them, after being born small with a cleft palate their daughter Karis was still
building up her immune system. While on the other hand Rachel and Logan
specifically headed home when they heard about Kevin. They wanted Storm
exposed. Rachel was trying to vaccinate her baby as little as possible and
would rather he got the disease than another shot. She was saving the shots for
the big stuff, like mumps and measles.

To each mother,
her own.

“Where?”
John asked Kevin quietly. He looked baffled and a bit alarmed. Cassidy wasn't
sure if he’d ever heard of the gigantic comic book and pop culture festival.
Cops and drug dealers didn't talk about superheroes and paranormal film very
often.

Cassidy tried not to notice how
appealing, vulnerable and confused were on this rugged man who’d chosen to do
the right thing last night. While trying to hide a smile she returned her
attention to her son. Kevin was pulling a big bowl of something from the bottom
shelf of the refrigerator and Cassidy was getting ready to remind him they were
guests at the ranch. Then she remembered he lived here a lot of the time. He
was comfortable with the leftovers in that refrigerator.

“It's in L.A.”
Kevin said as he sat down at the end of the table, an orange Tupperware
container in front of him. “Joss Wheaten is appearing,” he added as he pulled
the lid off. Without hesitation, he dug a fork into the cold spaghetti. As he
chewed his eyes shifted toward John as if challenging the undercover cop to ask
who Joss Wheaten was. Of course John took the bait.

“Who?”
John asked. The man could handle the most manipulative abuser and psychopathic
drug dealer but he couldn't outsmart a thirteen year old. Kevin was John's
kryptonite.

But who was Cassidy to criticize
because that recently acquired vulnerability of John's was Cassidy's kryptonite
and her loving eyes were back on him. Yes, John had gone out and faced Mike
Shannon last night. But instead of letting the situation play out like he
originally wanted and endangering Mary, John showed his badge and arrested the
clown for domestic abuse.

And, rather than continuing to
stare at John with her gratification showing all over her face Cassidy stood up
and opened a cabinet. She didn't know what she was looking for but was
pleasantly surprised when she found food. Not just any old food, like potato
chips and sugary cereal but healthy snacks. Nuts, kale chips, and wheat free
granola bars.

“I'm working on a story,” Kevin
said looking at Cassidy, a piece of spaghetti stuck to his chin. He ignored
John's question about Joss Wheaton. “I was hoping to get Joss to take a look at
it.”

Her son calling a man he didn't
know by his first name was interesting, maybe even a little weird. But Cassidy
decided to ignore it. Instead she pulled a bag of raw almonds off the shelf.
She opened it and took a sniff. It was actually fresh. “How much does Comic Com
cost?” she asked. She really didn't want to go back to L.A.,
even for a visit, but for her son, she would consider it.

“The conference costs three hundred
and fifty dollars,” Kevin explained, his voice going up. “But to get into a
special meeting with Joss it costs one thousand more plus there is room and
board.”

Cassidy gasped. John didn't react.

So Kevin turned his attention to
John. The boy, with the expensive tastes, had tomato sauce on his chin. “But I
figured you know people in L.A. we can stay with.
Someone with a beach house,” he suggested. He was trying to sound clever but
the effect was ruined by that red sauce all over his face.

John didn't say anything. Cassidy
didn't say anything.

Did Kevin know about John's beach house?
If so, how?
Cassidy thought the only thing Kevin knew
about John was that bogus sex addiction problem. Even with a pox mark on both
his earlobes the kid appeared confident in what he was saying. Cassidy put the
almonds down.

“I can go, right,” Kevin demanded
to know.

Cassidy decided it was best to
ignore the house comment and focus on Comic Con. “It’s a very expensive
conference,” she replied trying to regain her footing in this conversation. She
wasn’t sure if Kevin had any more verbal bombs he planned to drop. She glanced
at John. He looked overwhelmed too.
Poor man.

Before Kevin walked into the
kitchen John had been asking her about their sleeping arrangements. It seemed
he wanted to sleep in the same bed with her. 'Without any damn kid around,' he
said. He had needs and they needed to be fulfilled especially since he'd done
the right thing concerning Mike Shannon.

“Driving around the west and riding
bulls,” Kevin told Cassidy bringing her attention back to his concerns.

Jeez, both the men in her life
wanted something and she wasn’t sure she could give it to them.

“That’s very expensive,” Kevin
continued, “especially when you're not winning.”

Now that wasn’t a nice thing to
say, Cassidy had only lost one round and then she had to forfeit, but she
decided to ignore that comment too. Instead she glanced at John again. She
could have used his help, but he still wasn't keeping up with the conversation.

“It's been my dream,” Cassidy
explained to her son, deciding since she was on her own, it was best to stick
with honesty. “I've always wanted to ride bulls, since I was a little girl.”

“Why the hell can't I have my
dream?” Kevin demanded to know. “You've been moaning the entire time you've
been back from L.A.
about nobody respecting your dream but maybe you need to respect other people's
dreams.” He shoved more spaghetti in his mouth.

Holy moly, even though she didn't
like the swear words he was using, Kevin had a point. But with the attitude he
was dishing out, Cassidy wasn't ready to concede it.

“Who do you know with a beach house
in L.A.?”
John asked after giving himself a little shake. He was ready to rejoin the
conversation but he was using his official cop voice. Yes, the man was still
recovering from the fact that he lost a year's worth of work in one night. Mary
pressed charges and Mike Shannon went to jail for domestic abuse completely
ruining any chance for John to continue the prescription drug investigation.

Kevin looked even more put out,
probably because of the way John was talking to him. “It's none of your
business,” he snarled.

Maybe a time out was needed.
Cassidy opened the refrigerator. There were lots of fruit and veggies. Yikes,
she was even more in love with Rachel Fox. Fan girl would be a good way to
describe the feelings she was having for her sister-in-law. “Anyone up for a
smoothie?” she asked brightly.

“I tell you I have a dream,” Kevin
fumed, “and you offer me a smoothie.”

Oh God, she didn't mean it like
that. Cassidy hustled over to the table and sat down across from Kevin. “You
have a dream,” she whispered. She leaned toward him and reached over to squeeze
his arm. “I don't mean to dismiss your dream. Everyone tried to stop mine but I
won't let them do that to you.” She pushed a lock of hair off his forehead and
tried to think of a way to indicate she cared. “What's your story about?” she finally
asked.

Kevin didn't reply. Instead he
shrugged his shoulders.

“Please tell me?” Her eyes
searching his sulking face. “I’d like to know,” she added.

Finally Kevin stopped being
defensive. “Do you want to hear my one line elevator speech or my three minute
pitch?” He shifted in his seat. He was actually sitting up straighter.

Cassidy smiled at him. She didn't
understand his need to write stories but she did understand a need to be
listened to. She kept telling anyone who would lend her an ear, she wanted to
ride bulls. She looked over at John. He was being unusually quiet as he watched
both of them
skeptically
.

“Start with the elevator speech,
then
give
me the three minutes.” She folded her hands
in front of her on the table. God, she was proud of Kevin. He'd come so far
from the belligerent boy he'd been two years ago.

“There's this cop,” Kevin said in a
low voice.

Cassidy glanced at John again. Not
that Kevin knew what John did. Or at least she didn't think he knew. Kevin had
been sleeping last night when all that happened with Mike Shannon at the motel—hadn't
he? A thirteen year old couldn't fake sleep for that long—could he?

John shifted in his chair. Intimidating
was quickly trumping confusion in his
demeanor
. She
didn't think he'd ask who Joss Wheaton was again. To try and get him back to
being the frumpy preacher, she told him, “Joss Wheaton is a director and
writer, he created Firefly.” She smiled awkwardly.

Ignoring Cassidy, John gestured
toward Kevin. “Continue,” he
suggested,
his voice low.
At least he didn't sound menacing, yet.

“He goes to the rodeo,” Kevin explained,
“and works undercover as a preacher to catch a drug dealer who happens to be a
rodeo clown, also known as a bull fighter.” Kevin turned to John. “I'm not sure
if I should add that bull fighter part at the end.” With the best poker face
Cassidy had ever seen Kevin asked, “What do you think, maybe people already
know it means a rodeo clown?”

John's expression darkened. He knew
he'd been called out but he wasn't going to come clean. Now he was just being
stubborn. “I think the bull fighter bit helps to clarify things,” he replied
evenly.

Cassidy didn't think John ever had
an entire investigation unearthed by a thirteen year old. On top of having to
arrest Mike Shannon for domestic violence it had to be beyond disappointing to
realize Kevin figured him out, but the man didn't react. Cassidy had to give
him credit for the self-control. “If Mike Shannon ever finds out you were
calling him a clown he'd probably kick your ass, even from jail,” John told Kevin.
Then he asked, “What's the three minute pitch?”

“Well,” Kevin told him, voice
pitched high with excitement. “The preacher,” he put finger quotes around the
word, “is also in love with a bull rider, so much so he lies about being a sex
addict. But she's too busy worrying about her bulls and her son to notice him.”
With the look of someone who'd just 'skinned the cat' Kevin leaned back in his
chair. “However before the rodeo, when they were living together in L.A.,
they had something going on.” He stopped for a moment as he rubbed his chin. “That
part of the story I need to flush out more,” He shrugged. “But it's back story
and mostly minor.”

Okay, this had to stop. “He knows,”
Cassidy said to John, she turned her attention to her son. “I'm sorry, Kevin.”
What specifically she was apologizing for, she wasn't sure. But she knew she
had let him down, lied to him. Even though it was a lie by omission it was
still a lie. “We should have been honest with you about John and me.” She
added, “And John's job.”

“How did you figure us out?” John
asked, he leaned back and crossed an ankle over his knee.
All
pretense
of being the Bible thumping preacher gone.
There was even a hint of respect in his voice.

“When I met Rachel,” Kevin started,
“I was yelling, screaming, and acting out all over the place.” He looked at
Cassidy. “I was angry at you for leaving me and mad at Caleb and Logan for
trying to take your place.”

“Rachel told me I acted that way
because I felt powerless.” He smiled a little. “She talked about her protesting
days and how she ran naked trying to create a stir with her body, but then she
met Matt Dillinger and he showed her that by gathering intelligence and
listening to what the bull owners needed she could make a difference. Working
on the inside was the word he used.”

Cassidy glanced at John. His eyes
were wide. Like any good cop the man was listening closely, looking for
inconsistencies in the story.

“I told her if I was going to spy
on people I wanted a laptop,” Kevin continued. “I have no idea how she
convinced Logan
to spend the money but she got me one. Then she showed me Firefly and Joss
Wheaton inspired me to write.”

Who would have thought a naked
protester and a sci-fi western could change a kid’s life? If it were that easy,
every parent of a troubled teen would be dragging their kids to PETA protests
and Comic Con.

“So when you took me out on the
road,” Kevin told Cassidy, “I decided to shut up and fade into the background.
The more you guys thought I wasn't listening the more you talked.” He glanced
at John. “I've got an entire screen play here.” He held up his computer. “Thanks
to you two.” He smiled coyly.