The Great Jackalope Stampede (40 page)

Harley’s blue eyes widened for a moment, then he looked down at his cards. “Never mind.”

Claire’s grandfather was suddenly focusing way too hard on the few cards left in his hand. Mac turned to the other two clowns. “What situation?” he asked again.

Chester covered his mouth as if he were going to whisper. “The baby,” he said loud and clear.

Mac blinked, unable to make things add up in his head. “What does Kate being pregnant have to do with Claire and me getting married?”

“What?” Harley’s forehead crinkled like a squeezebox. “Kate’s pregnant, too?”

Too?
“What do you mean ‘too’?”

Chester snorted. “There must be something in the water around here getting everyone knocked up.”

“Claire’s pregnant?” The cards fell from Mac’s fingers, drifting to the floor.

“Shit,” Harley said. “There is too much sex going on around this place. Reminds me of a bunch of damned rabbits.”

Chester chuckled. “It’s like the Great Jackalope Stampede of ’58 I read about while waiting for you at the doctor’s office the other day.”

How could Claire be pregnant? She said she was on her period.

“
Dios mio!
” Manny covered his heart, his face paling.

“What’s got your knickers all twisted up?” Chester asked, stubbing out his cigar.

Mac raked his fingers through his hair. Why hadn’t Claire told him she was pregnant? Was that why she had been acting so funny last week each time they had spoken on the phone? And here he had thought it was something to do with the damned pocket watch that she was not telling him.

“All this talk about
bambinos
reminded me of something.”

“What now?” Harley said.

Manny gulped. “I didn’t wear any protection last night.”

* * *

“Why is this place so freaking busy tonight?” Claire asked Kate, who stood at the cash register at The Shaft ringing up orders. “It’s Sunday for crissakes. Don’t these people have to work tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Kate said, impaling an order on the sharp pointy metal holder. “But Sunday is our third busiest night after Friday and Saturday. People come here to try to forget that they have to go back to work tomorrow.”

When Claire had agreed to help Kate at The Shaft after a long afternoon of sanding and painting, she’d expected to be pouring a beer or three an hour. Not struggling to keep up with Ronnie and Kate, who kept bringing her drink orders and dirtying up all of the glasses she kept washing. Butch needed to quit fooling around with buying old cars and get his butt back here. Claire much preferred to be on the other side of the bar when hanging out at The Shaft.

Ronnie dropped onto a bar stool and blew her hair out of her face. “Here’s another one.” She held out an order to Claire.

Claire frowned down at it. “This has food on it.”

“I know. Let the cook know.”

“My job is drinks only.”

“Don’t be a putz. You’re right there by the kitchen window.”

“You want me to go around and take orders for you, too, lazy bones?”

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Quit your whining and just take care of it.”

“Knock it off, both of you,” Kate said, coming over and taking the order from Claire. “You two are acting like some of my students used to.” She called the food order back through the kitchen window. “Next you’ll be shooting spit wads at each other behind my back.”

“Sorry,” Claire said, grabbing two glasses and filling them with beer. “What’s that third drink?”

“Gin and tonic,” Ronnie said. When Claire shot her a suspicious glance, Ronnie held up her hands. “It’s not for me, I swear.”

Kate had made it clear that if either of them drank on the job, she would cut off their hair while they slept. Her inability to sleep through the night at the moment made her threat all the more real.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom,” Kate said.

“You okay?” Claire asked.

She nodded, fanning herself. “Just need to take care of business and cool off my face.”

When Kate left, Ronnie leaned on the bar, her expression earnest. “Claire, I need to tell you something.”

“If this is about you stealing my favorite mohair sweater back in high school and burning cigarette holes in it, I know already. Natalie told me about it last week while we were listening to an oldies station on the radio while working.”

“That tattletale,” Ronnie muttered. “It’s not about the past. Well, not about our past anyway.”

Claire poured the gin and tonic. “Spill.”

“It’s about the pocket watch.”

She put the drinks on a tray and set it down in front of Ronnie. “What about it?”

“I took it.”

“You what!?”

“I took the watch. It’s not stolen.”

“What … why would you do that?”

“Because I found something out about it that puts you at risk.”

“Me?”

“You and everyone else in the family.”

Claire frowned. “I already knew we were all at risk because of it. I’ve been telling everyone that for weeks but nobody would listen to me.”

“I know, I know.”

“Then why would you take it and let me think it was stolen?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m waiting.”

A sharp whistle from over by the pool table caught their attention. An old cowboy was waving Ronnie over.

“I’ll be right back,” Ronnie said and took the tray with her.

While she waited for Ronnie to return, Claire busied herself with trying to come up with an explanation why her sister would steal the watch from a secure safe in Ruby’s basement and think that would keep the family safe. For the life of her, she couldn’t come up with a legitimate reason. Then she remembered the article Ronnie had tried to show her last night. She looked around on the floor, searching the shelves and drawers behind the bar, and wondered where it had gone.

“What are you looking for?” Kate asked, back from the bathroom.

“Did you see a wrinkled piece of paper on the floor back here last night?”

“I put it next to the cash register. I figured someone must have dropped it and might come back for it.”

“Did they?”

“Must have. It was gone a little later.”

Ronnie returned with another order and handed it to Claire.

“Did you pick up that paper you were trying to show me last night?” Claire asked her.

“You mean this?” Ronnie pulled a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. When Claire nodded, she said, “No.”

Claire scoffed. “What do you mean? You’re showing it to me right now.”

“I know, but I didn’t pick it up. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. We have a problem.”

Kate moved in closer. “What’s going on?”

“Ronnie took the watch out of the safe,” Claire explained. “She’s about to tell me why, and it better be good.”

Ronnie smoothed out the paper on the bar. “This article talks about how the watch was stolen from this German castle.”

Claire stared down at the picture of the castle, a memory of another article she had found in the file cabinet down in Ruby’s office flickering in her head. “I think Joe has something on this castle in his old files down in the basement. It was in German, too, so I couldn’t read it.”

“When did you learn German?” Kate asked Ronnie.

Ronnie shook her head. “That’s not important right now.”

“So you agree with me then that someone is probably coming for it and we’re in danger,” Claire said.

“No.” Ronnie chewed on her lower lip. “Well, I don’t think so anyway. Not yet.”

“Then why did you take the watch? And where is it?”

“It’s in a safe place.” Ronnie looked over her shoulder like the grim reaper might be eavesdropping. She wiggled her index finger for Claire and Kate to lean in closer. “The problem involves Sheriff Harrison.”

Kate groaned. “Oh God, that man is the bane of my existence. He almost always makes a point of asking me if I have new crashes to report whenever he sees me.”

“You do have a bit of a record,” Claire said, and then jerked when Kate pinched her on the back of her arm. “Ouch! Brat.”

“The Sheriff knows about the watch,” Ronnie said.

Shit!
He was the last person Claire wanted to know about this. Then she thought of whomever Joe had skimmed it from and changed her mind. She crossed her arms over her chest. “What did you do, Ronnie?”

“It wasn’t on purpose and it’s not my fault.”

Kate laughed. “That’s been your story since we were kids and you rode through Mom’s prized flower garden with Claire’s bike.”

“What did you do?” Claire asked again.

“The Sheriff has been on my ass since I got to town, following me around, looking for trouble.”

“Really? The Sheriff just saw you and decided you looked like trouble right off the bat. How come I have difficulty believing that?”

“Well, maybe I was speeding once.”

Claire raised one eyebrow.

“And I might have tried to bribe my way out of the ticket with fake jewelry. Then I insulted his niece by insinuating she was a tramp. And there was that one night when I was a little drunk and sort of took my shirt off in front of him in order to get him to drive me home.”

“You what?” Kate burst out laughing, drawing several stares.

“Shhh,” Ronnie said.

Her eyes watering, Kate smothered her laughs in a bar towel.

Claire had an icky feeling swirling in her gut. “What did you do, Ronnie?”

“I think I kind of clued in the Sheriff that we have the stolen watch in our possession.”

“Oh, Christ.” Claire threw her hands up in the air. “What were you thinking?”

“I had bigger problems at the time.”

“Such as what?”

“That’s not important right now. What I need your help with is what I should do to fix this.”

“Have you thought about taking off your pants in front of him?” Kate said in between giggles. “Maybe you could do the hokey pokey with him and turn this all around.” She laughed harder. “Because that’s what it’s all about.”

“Not funny, Katie.”

Claire chuckled. It kind of was.

Ronnie turned her glare on Claire. “Stop it right now, both of you.”

“Okay, okay,” Claire said, sobering again. “So we have a problem, but at least it’s just the Sheriff of Cholla County who is onto our secret, not the guys Joe stole this from.”

“Why don’t we just contact whoever owns the castle and tell them we have their watch,” Kate suggested.

“No way,” Ronnie beat Claire to the answer. “That will bring the Feds down on Ruby, and that is the last thing we want, trust me.”

Claire noticed how rigid Ronnie’s face had gotten all of a sudden. “You sound like you have some experience with this.”

“Maybe a little.” When Claire continued to stare at her, Ronnie shook her head. “I don’t want to go into that tonight.”

“You’re going to have to find out what Sheriff Harrison really knows.”

“Or thinks he knows,” Ronnie said.

“Exactly. Once we know that, we can figure out what to do about him.”

Ronnie nodded. “Okay, I think I can figure out a way to do it without making things worse.”

“Good,” Claire said, “because we—”

“Hello, ladies.” Mac broke up their three-ring circus by sliding onto the seat next to Ronnie and shouldering his way into their conversation.

Claire blinked in surprise. She’d been so focused on Ronnie and the problem with the watch that she hadn’t seen him come in.

“Hi,” Claire said, shifting out of neutral. “You want a beer?”

“Sure, Slugger.” He leaned his elbows on the bar, his hazel eyes boring holes into hers. “And while you’re getting that, maybe you can explain to me why your grandfather and his buddies believe you’re pregnant with my child.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Monday, October 8th

The road up to the Lucky Monk was very bumpy.

So was the mood inside the cab of Mac’s pickup truck as Claire rode with him up to the mine. She had hoped that a night of sleeping on the news of her pregnancy scare would turn Mac’s frown from last night upside down. As busy as The Shaft had been, she had not been able to step outside with him and hash things out until after closing. By then, he’d told her he was too tired to talk and drove her home in silence, which was broken only by George Jones singing on the radio yet another song about drinking away his broken heart. Kate would probably toast her soda water to good ol’ George these days.

“Are you still pissed at me?” Claire asked, staring over at Mac’s stiff profile. She wanted to bridge the distance between them but was unsure that she could reach that far.

His quiet demeanor at breakfast had given nothing away. Mornings were not usually chatty times for Mac. He had smiled at his aunt and cousin, shot a wary look at Gramps, and dropped a kiss on Claire’s temple, but something was off. His chakras were misaligned or his aura was darker than normal or his vibes were not rippling right—whatever. In short, Mac was not Mac at the moment, and Claire did not want to spend the day tramping around inside of a pitch black mine with his cold shoulders.

“I was not pissed.” Mac slowed for a strip of washboard in the dirt road. “I told you that when I dropped you off at the Skunkmobile last night. Surprised? Yes. Disappointed? I guess that, too.”