The Bull Rider Wears Pink (20 page)

“No, you're not,” Cassidy said
calmly. It was history repeating itself. Cassidy Cooper, the honest, by the
book cop, blowing John Risk's cover, except John had done the right thing for
Mary the Inn Keeper last night. This just wasn’t fair.

“You can't do this to me, Cassidy,”
John protested. “I need a few more days.”

“No,” she replied. “Kevin is right.
We can't lie to Logan and Rachel. They think such terrible things of both you
and me.” She reached across the table and put her hand over John's. “I'm tired
of people thinking bad things of me.” She squeezed John's thumb. “You can trust
them.” Those dark brown eyes of hers shined golden as the afternoon sun light
flowed in through the window.

John shook his head but it didn't
help. This woman he loved wasn't to be stopped and that was probably why he
loved her so much. He may as well acknowledge that he was a goner.

“What could be so bad?” Logan
demanded to know. Logan looked John up and
down. “You don't dress like a lady at night, do you?” He turned to Rachel. “What
do you call that?”
Fingers snapping next to his head again.

“Transvestite,” she muttered.

“Logan,
stop it,” Cassidy spat. “He's an undercover cop.”

“What?” Logan snorted. He glanced
at John, then at Rachel and back at Cassidy. “He's not a preacher with issues
concerning women.” Obviously Rachel and Logan had been talking.

“No,” Cassidy moaned. “He's working
on a drug case at the rodeo.”

But she was only telling her
brother half the story, John figured it was time for Cassidy Cooper to come
clean too. “If I'm a perverted preacher what does that make you?” John asked
Cassidy. Yes, he was challenging her but she'd just
outed
him. “Could you please tell your brother what
you've been doing the last few years because it wasn't pornography or drug
rehabilitation.
”

“I was an undercover cop too,”
Cassidy said firmly.

Jesus, John thought she would hem
and haw a bit. The woman certainly needed to get that off her chest. John was
glad for her. The way her eyes lit up and her face got
shiny,
he knew it was the right thing for her. That Bible quote about knowing the
truth and being set free by it came to mind.

“We worked together in L.A.,”
Cassidy explained while Logan and Rachel lifted their jaws off the table. “We
had a falling out and John followed me to the rodeo to try and patch things up.”

“No,” John corrected. “I came here
to tell her I loved her.” He really wished Cassidy would get his motives right.

Logan
scratched his head. “So you weren't a porn star, drug addict, or prostitute?”
He glanced at Rachel. She looked a little pale.

“No,” Cassidy shook her head
firmly. “For three years I was deep undercover in a motorcycle club portraying
John's wife.” She looked down at her hands clasped on the table. A few of her
knuckles were white. “They were dealing drugs, had set up an adult film studio,
and the occasional prostitute hung around the club house.” She shrugged. “A lot
of the time, the wives were thought of that way and I didn't do anything to
change that perception because I was undercover.”

Logan
rubbed his hand down his face and took a deep breath. Then he tugged on his
ear. When he tried to open his mouth to speak, no words came out. Instead he
blinked a few times.

“I'm sorry,” Cassidy said reaching
for Logan's
forearm. “I know those things upset you.”

“Were you safe?” he finally asked
after he composed himself. “Riding a bull is dangerous but at least you know
who your enemy is.” He waved his hand in a circle. “It's all out in the open in
the ring. I'm sure you didn't know who you could trust in that club.”

“We trusted each other,” John said.
He never thought Logan would worry about
his sister so much. Jesus, the man was even pushing a tear out of the corner of
his eye. “We looked after each other,” he added trying to reassure Logan
but the cowboy continued to cry.

Chapter Twelve

“Stop,” John said to Kevin as he
studied the boy’s computer screen. He tapped his finger against the picture.
There was a blond buckle bunny with very deep cleavage in the foreground while
Mike
Shannon,
dressed as a rodeo clown and Mrs.
Goodwin stood in the background. “Is she passing him something?” John asked the
kid. He leaned closer to the screen.

Kevin shrugged. “I wasn't taking
the video of him.” He pointed at the buckle bunny, the tip of his finger on her
breasts. “I was taking it of her.”

“Looks like one of those white
pharmacy bags.” Cassidy commented ignoring Kevin. John was relieved she was
holding back her mothering instincts and not commenting on the
inappropriateness of the kid taking video of a woman's cleavage. John planned
on telling her later that her son wasn't the first thirteen year old to revere
a perfect pair of knockers.

“Can you enlarge the picture?” John
asked. “Cut that buckle bunny out,” he told Kevin. “We don't need her.” He
could feel Cassidy breathe a sigh of relief next to him.

As Kevin pressed some buttons on
his computer. John watched the two figures, standing at the end of a hallway,
in a nameless hotel come into focus. “Fuckin’ A,” John said. “She is giving him
a bag.” He tapped the screen with his finger. “It looks like something is
written on it?” He leaned in closer, nose almost against the computer. “Frontier
Pharmacy,” he read after Kevin enlarged the video again. The kid was good at
this stuff.

They spent the next hour going
through footage. Most of the time it was Kevin filming a buckle bunny's rear
end or chest, but occasionally there'd be a shot of Mike Shannon and Mrs.
Goodwin exchanging something in a bag.

In a way John didn't want to
recognize the elderly woman. The worst thing about being a cop was finding out
bad things about people he liked. Maybe like was too strong of a word to
describe his relationship with Mrs. Goodwin, but he did tolerate her
righteousness and she returned the
favor
by coming to
his services, which he appreciated.

But wait, if Mrs. Goodwin was so
virtuous why was she spending time with a known drug dealer? Then again John
had seen this
before,
the most
honorable
and decent were sometimes even more corrupt and immoral than everyone else.
Except John had never seen a lady who wore
orthopedic
shoes running the enterprise and foiling him for over a year.
The woman
was a formidable opponent.

“Really?”
Cassidy asked John. “You think the registration lady is the Walter White of the
rodeo?” She shook her head. “That can't be.”

“Doesn't matter if I'm right or
wrong,” he told her. “It needs to be checked out.” He studied the pictures some
more. Kevin had done something in which he pulled each out of the video and
lined them up on the screen. Damn the kid was talented.

“Maybe Mrs. Goodwin was giving Mike
Shannon homemade chocolate chip cookies or a parking pass in those paper bags,”
Cassidy suggested.

“I don't think so,” Kevin said. He
enlarged another picture. Another bag appeared on the screen.

“Western Pharmacy,” John read as he
leaned in closer. He tapped his finger on the table. “Both those businesses
need to be checked out.”

“She's the kingpin, isn't she?”
Kevin asked. His face flushed with excitement. Then he got pensive for a moment.
“It's strange,” he started slowly. “Mike Shannon has been your red herring
throughout this investigation but the true antagonist in your story is Mrs. Goodwin.”
Kevin rubbed his chin. “I wonder what her motivation is.”

“Her husband is sick,” Cassidy supplied.
“She's probably trying to pay his medical bills,” she added. “Even in the
direst of times,” she told Kevin, “never turn to crime to solve a problem. It
doesn’t pay.” She squeezed her son’s shoulder after that impromptu parenting
session.

“Your mother's right,” John told
the boy, feeling the need to put his stamp on the advice given. “Most of the
time crime is motivated by money. Financial ruin can make people do some pretty
nasty things.” He pulled out his phone. He intended to call information and get
the number for the closest police station but he didn't have service. For
Christ’s sake that was annoying.

“Couldn't she have just asked for
help?” Kevin inquired. “I'm sure Bret
Bodner
would
have paid her more.”

Cassidy and John stared at him for
a moment. He was right. If Bret paid the woman more and provided health
insurance maybe all of this wouldn't have happened. Even at thirty-two years
old and after all he'd seen in the world John was still struck by how
thoughtless people could be toward each other.

“All Bret
Bodner
cares about is himself and his money,” Cassidy commented.

“You're an observant man,” John
told the boy putting a hand on Kevin's shoulder, “to see the fundamental
problem that caused this alleged crime.” He sighed trying to find a way to
explain why people did the things they did. But he couldn’t.

Instead he needed to figure out how
he was going to get the pictures to the proper authorities, since email was out
of the question the boy could help him again. “Can you hook this computer up to
Logan's
printer?” John asked. “We need a hard copy of these pictures before we go into
town and pay a visit to the local constable.”

After Kevin left with his computer
cradled in his arms John turned to Cassidy. “He's a good kid,” he said pulling
her out of her seat and onto his lap.

“I know,” she replied wrapping her
arms around his neck. “Thanks for including him in this and not just
confiscating the computer.” She kissed him on the cheek. Even wearing her glasses
and with her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, she looked pretty. No, John
didn't get a chance to sleep with her last night because he ended up on the
couch. But that was
okay,
at least he wasn’t in the
barn.

John lifted her hand and kissed her
knuckles. “No problem. But your son should consider becoming a cop rather than
a screen writer someday.” He was starting to like that idea more than he
should, but before he made suggestions concerning Kevin's future he needed to
commit to the boy's mother.

“Well,” she climbed off his lap and
poured fresh cups of coffee for both of them. Then she added a little bit of
milk to his, no sugar, exactly the way he liked it. “He's got lots of time to
figure it out.” She returned to the chair next to him, tucking her legs under
her seat.

“Yes, he does,” John agreed
quietly. He knew, before he wrapped up this investigation he needed to get some
promises from Cassidy concerning their future. John decided to jump in feet
first. He'd always been a direct sort of guy before he became Pastor John. “I
saw some feminine hygiene wrappers in the trash this morning.” He tried to hide
the disappointment in his voice but it was hard. He had been hoping for a child
and yes his motives for wanting to get her pregnant were probably wrong.

Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Always
the detective,” she said to him. Then she took a sip of her coffee. “Yes,” she told
him, “I got my period.” She shrugged.

“That's too bad,” he said. Now he
knew he'd have to go about it the old fashion way and ask her to marry him.
John was worried she'd say no since there wasn't any reason for them to be
together. Then again, he was pretty sure she loved him.

“So,” he asked. He nudged her thigh
with his knee. “What are you going to do now?” He smiled but she didn't smile
back. “Return to the bull riding?” He nudged her again. He was hoping to get a
reaction out of her but she wasn't taking the bait.

“I've got to get my son well,” she
told him. “So I'll probably stay here for a while and let Logan
drive me absolutely nuts.” She shook her head. “Then if there is time before
the end of the summer I'll ride in a few more rodeos. If not, I'll stay and get
Kevin ready to go to school.” She shrugged. “I've never done back to school
shopping and the kids jeans are up around his ankles.”

* * * *

For a moment, when John was asking
Cassidy about her plans, she wondered if he was going to suggest marriage. When
he didn’t, she felt a little sad. On the other hand she was glad she wasn't
pregnant and wasn’t on the receiving end of one of those take responsibility
for my actions proposals. If she married John because there was a baby on the
way, she would have wondered for the rest of her life, if his proposal was
true.

John stood up. He rubbed his head. “I
need to talk to you about something—” he started again with that serious tone.
Maybe a marriage proposal was back on the table. Too bad he got interrupted
when Rachel and Logan came into the kitchen.

“Coffee,” Logan
moaned while Rachel stumbled to the stove and turned on the kettle. It seemed
baby Storm had been up most of the night. “Every two hours,” Logan
told them as he sat down and Cassidy poured him a cup. “I'd just get to sleep
and then it’d be
waaahhh
,
waaahhh
.”
Through narrow eyes, he asked, “When does it stop, and why are you two up so
early?” Putting his hand on the side of his cheek and letting his head fall, he
muttered, “It’s ludicrous when you don’t have to be.”

John explained the video of Mike
Shannon and Mrs. Goodwin. Then he talked about his suspicions concerning the
drug ring. He finished the story by asking, “Where's the rodeo this week?”

Logan
replied, “Casper.” He blinked a
few times as he pulled his head up. “What are you going to do?” Rachel sat down
at the other end of the
table,
her brow wasn’t
furrowed this morning.

“I'm going to send the pictures to
the Casper Police Department and
have
them
bring Mrs. Goodwin in for questioning. Then I'm
going to follow up with the authorities holding Mike Shannon to ensure they
don’t let the idiot go.” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “There’re
more charges coming his way and I don't want anyone to post bail for the guy.” He
looked at the screen and shoved it back into his pocket angrily. “You really
need to get some damn service out here,” he told Logan.
“What if there’s an accident or something.”

“I don't think you should be
swearing at me,” Logan replied.
Cassidy was surprised he had the energy to get his back up. “You're still a man
of the cloth in some circles,” Logan
continued. Then he folded his elbow and cradled his chin in the crook.

“But not here,” John countered
pointing a finger at Logan’s head.
“Remember Kevin wanted full disclosure last night.” He pounded his knuckles on
the wood table next to Logan’s
ear.

“Enough,” Rachel moaned. “Logan,” she told her husband, “back off.” She
turned to John. “Don't you have to be in Casper
for the arrest of Mrs. Goodwin?” She smiled at the man who’d been her archenemy
for over a year. “And, would you like a cup of tea?” she offered.

“No thanks,” John replied looking a
little surprised. “Unless I want to high-five the local law enforcement I don't
have to be in Casper,” he
explained to her. “All the evidence on my end is gathered.” He pointed at Kevin
who had
reentered
the kitchen, photos in hand. “Thanks
to this super sleuth.” Then he put an arm around the boy. “Plus, I'd rather
stay here under quarantine and help Cassidy care for the kid.”

“I'm fine,” Kevin moaned stepping
out of John’s embrace. “Let’s go into town and send theses photos to whoever
you need to send them to.” He held up a tiny disk. “I’ve got them on this flash
drive. It will be much easier and quicker to email them.”

“You may be feeling okay,” Cassidy
told him getting up and crossing the kitchen, “but the nurse said no contact
with the outside world for a week.” She put her hand on her son's forehead. His
temperature felt normal. Then she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “You
can’t risk exposing anyone else.”

“I've also made copies of the videos,”
Kevin told John ignoring Cassidy. “Like you said, I put the file on an external
hard drive and hid it in a safe place.” He made eye contact with all of them. “I'm
not telling anyone where it is, so don't ask.”

“The place is dry and protected
from animals?” John inquired.

“Even though I’m contagious, I'm
not an idiot,” Kevin replied.

“No, you're not,” John agreed. “Maybe
after you get well you would consider giving up the stories.” He put Kevin in a
head lock. “Police enforcement is the place for a young man with your many
talents.” He gave the kid a
noogie
.

“Talking about police work,” Logan said pulling his head off the table, “Big
Timber’s police chief is moving to Bozeman.
He wants a bigger professional challenge. Corralling drunks and giving out speeding
tickets to old ladies just isn't doing it for him. He's our one and only cop in
town.” Logan explained as he shook
his weary head. “I can't believe I'm suggesting this to Pastor John but maybe
you're interested in the job?” He scratched his ear. “I could introduce you to
the town council.”