Getting Lucky (A Nugget Romance Book 5) Page 15

  Jake would’ve liked to explain that there was no way that the police could’ve anticipated this. But he couldn’t. All he could say was, “It’s a mess.”

  “Ya think?” Lucky snapped, and Jake could understand his frustration. The shooting would not only stall his project, but it wasn’t the best publicity for a new business trying to attract tourists. “How soon can I come back?”

  “As soon as we’re done processing the scene—probably a couple of days.”

  “Who will feed my animals?”

  “I’ll do it,” Jake said, and Lucky looked at him like he was crazy. “Wyatt can help. It’s either that or someone from Animal Control will do it until we let you back in.”

  “You have got to be kidding me!” Lucky took off his hat and mechanically shoved his hands through his hair. Jake noticed that Lucky did it whenever he was agitated.

  “We can’t have you traipsing around, compromising the scene. Make me a list of what needs to be done and I’ll make sure your stock is cared for.”

  “Great!” Lucky threw up his arms.

  Jake handed him a notebook and pen, and not having much of a choice, Lucky began scribbling instructions.

  In his pocket, Jake felt his phone vibrate, looked at the caller ID and answered. “Everything is fine, sweetheart . . . He’s right here.” He handed the phone to Lucky. “Your mother wants to talk to you.”

  Jake heard Lucky mutter an expletive, but he took the phone and walked over to a quiet corner. Crime scene investigators from the sheriff ’s department had begun setting up klieg lights so they could comb the area looking for spent casings—although they were pretty sure the weapon was a revolver—footprints, and any other evidence they could find. The coroner’s van sat at the ready while someone took pictures of Gus.

  “Hey, Jake.” Harlee came trudging up the walkway with her laptop and a camera.

  “You know you’re not supposed to come in here. It’s a working crime scene, Harlee.”

  She gave a half shrug. “I was hoping you could fill me in on the details. Just a little bit.” She made an inch with her fingers. “Rhys is being a dick and I want to update the website.”

  Jake smothered a chuckle. “Rhys is a little busy. What do you have so far?”

  “Not a lot. Just that a man was shot and killed on Lucky’s property about an hour ago. I don’t have an ID, I don’t know if anyone is in custody, and I don’t know what the altercation was about.”

  “On background?” Jake said.

  “Sure. Can I attribute it to a law enforcement source?”

  “Well, that would kind of narrow it down, wouldn’t it?” Since there were only three of them in the department. “How about just a source close to the case.” That would include just about anyone living within a five-mile radius and would give Jake cover.

  “Okay,” she said, and got her notepad out.

  “We don’t have anyone in custody. We don’t know what the altercation was about, and the victim was Gus Clamper. Common spelling. I don’t know his DOB, you’ll have to check his DMV file or the Registrar of Voters. But, Harlee, we haven’t notified the next of kin yet, so you may want to hold off.” Jake knew she wouldn’t, but at least he’d made the effort.

  “Why was he on the property in the first place?”

  “He was fixing Lucky’s fences.”

  “At seven at night?” She looked doubtful. Smart girl.

  “A number of Lucky’s workers who live a ways away are staying at the ranch in bunkhouses.”

  “Where is Gus from?”

  “Placer County.”

  “Does he have a family? A record?”

  “You know I can’t discuss criminal history,” he said.

  “Jake, the courts are closed.”

  “The Internet is open twenty-four-seven. You’re gonna have to work for this one, sweetheart.”

  “What about family?” she pressed.

  “Dunno.”

  “Is Lucky a suspect?”

  “Everyone’s a suspect.”

  “Jake?” Harlee pinned him with a look. “Throw me a bone, here.”

  “Let’s put it this way: If you were to print that Lucky is a suspect it would be journalistically irresponsible.”

  “That means you have someone else in mind. Who?”

  “That’s all I’ve got.” Jake liked Harlee. She was just as pushy as the reporters in LA, but a hell of a lot more charming. And her husband made spectacular furniture. “Don’t burn me, Harlee. Now get out of here before I have one of the deputies escort you off the property.”

  Later, he saw her sitting inside her fifteen-year-old Pathfinder on the other side of the yellow tape, clacking away on her laptop.

  “Hey, Deep Throat. How goes it?” Rhys sidled up to Jake. “You read the story yet?”

  “It’s up already?” Jake looked over at Harlee again. She was still typing.

  “She updates it every couple of minutes.” Rhys held up his phone. “If you sign up, you get automatic mobile alerts. Did you know Gus was arrested three years ago in Placer County for breaking a bottle over a bartender’s head?”

  Jake smiled. “This is probably the biggest story she’s had since turning that little rag around. Don’t get a lot of shootings up here, unless it’s some idiot hunter.”

  “Well, she’s got shit in that story that I didn’t even know.”

  “She’s good,” Jake said.

  “Yeah, she’s good. Hopefully we’ll have this thing wrapped up in a few days,” Rhys said.

  Jake wasn’t so sure. Gus’s shooting had certainly complicated their dope case. Especially since the guy who’d killed him didn’t have one thing to do with the drug investigation—at least according to Jake’s witness.

  On Lucky’s way to his mother’s house, Tawny called. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just homeless for a few days while they process the scene. How did you hear about it so soon?”

  “The Nugget Tribune. I get alerts for breaking news.”

  Great, Lucky thought. Just what he needed. “I was thinking of swinging by and checking on Katie.”

  “She’s asleep,” Tawny said. “But if you want to look in on her, that would be okay.”

  A few minutes later, Lucky pulled up into Tawny’s driveway. The light on the front porch was on. He climbed the stairs and quietly tapped on the window, not wanting to wake Katie up. It was such a tiny place that sound traveled.

  Tawny opened the door in jeans and a sweater. Different from what she’d worn to the doctor’s. It hardly seemed like the trip to Palo Alto had happened on the same day as the shooting.

  “Hey,” she said.

  Lucky didn’t know what possessed him, but he pulled her into a hug and held her until she molded to him. For a second he forgot himself and put his hand on her backside to press her against him. Bad idea. He felt himself getting hard and let her go. It was just the strain of the day, he told himself.

  She pretended not to be flustered, but Lucky knew she was.

  “Did you see the shooting?”

  “No. I was out by the corrals, checking on the animals, and I heard it. Raylene was at the trailer, so I ran back. It was like everything happened in a split second.”

  “The article didn’t say anything about Raylene being there,” Tawny said, and Lucky sensed that it bothered her, but his head was so fogged he might’ve imagined it.

  “The cops cleared the place as soon as they got there. Before Harlee showed up.”

  “Where was he shot?” Tawny asked, keeping her voice down so as not to wake Katie.

  “Over by one of the bunkhouses. When I got there one of the crew members was trying to staunch the blood. Gus was barely breathing.”

  “Did any of them see what happened?”

  Lucky blew out a breath. “If they did, they ain’t talking to me. Jake and Rhys and a bunch of sheriff’s deputies interrogated the whole lot of ’em and collected all the guns. These clowns were housing a freaking arsenal on m
y property.”

  Tawny’s eyes grew wide. “Why?”

  Ah hell. He’d probably said too much. “Uh, it’s common with construction crews. A lot of equipment and material theft. They like to guard their stuff.”

  “Still,” Tawny said. “Why would’ve someone shot the man? You think he was stealing from them?”

  “I don’t know. It could’ve been anything.” He tilted his head to look at her. The sweater she wore matched her green eyes. “You got something to drink?”

  “Juice, water, soda, or I could make some coffee or tea.”

  Lucky had been hoping for something harder. “Coffee would be good.” He wouldn’t be sleeping anyway.

  Tawny led him into the kitchen. “Did you know him?”

  “Gus? Not like we were pals, but he was my employee. We talked occasionally. He seemed like a decent enough guy.” Until Lucky had learned that he was dealing dope.

  “What are you planning to do?” She measured out the coffee and flipped the switch on the coffeemaker. “Will you keep the same crew on?”

  “I don’t know yet.” He’d like to fire every last one of them, but he’d promised Jake he wouldn’t. “You mind if I peek in on Katie?”

  “Go ahead.” She gave him a small smile, and once again Lucky was struck by what a beautiful woman she was. And easy to talk to.

  He opened Katie’s bedroom door. The room, decked out with a white canopy bed, frilly pink bedding, matching curtains, and pictures of horses, always gave him an unexpected rush. He had a girly girl. Although he could do without the boy-band poster on the back of her door—Katie was too young for boy bands. His chest expanded at the sight of her sleeping with her arms around a fuzzy pink stuffed animal, her pretty brown hair spread over the top of her pillow. Tawny had told him that she’d lost a lot of it during her chemo treatments. He stood there for a few moments, watching her chest move up and down under the covers, and felt an overwhelming need to hold her. His daughter.

  He shut the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake her up. “She feeling okay?” he asked.

  Tawny nodded her head. “She’s had a good couple of days. Your mother’s been so helpful that I’ve been able to work on Clay’s boots.”

  “That’s good,” he said. “I guess things will get hectic when we do the transplant. I’m planning to build a house.” It came out of nowhere, especially since Gus’s body was probably still lying there on his property. Perhaps he just needed something normal to talk about. “I’m gonna ditch that apartment and go big. Do something like Colin and Harlee’s place. If I can get him, I’ll hire Colin to build it.”

  “Sounds nice,” Tawny said.

  “I’ll put in a whole wing for Katie.”

  “A whole wing?” Her brows lifted.

  “You know, a bedroom, rec room where she can have her friends, and a room with a computer where she can do her homework. I’ll get her a horse, too.”

  “Wow. With all that, she’ll never want to come home to me.”

  Lucky looked around Tawny’s little bungalow—a crackerjack box, really—and saw her point. He didn’t want it to be a competition, just wanted to provide Katie with all he could.

  “Nah, you’re her mother. You’ll always come first.”

  Lucky saw Tawny’s eyes well up and moved closer. “Don’t cry, Tawny. I’m not trying to take her from you. Katie loves you.”

  She used her knuckles to wipe her eyes and tried to smile. “It’s just been a crap day. That’s all.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. Instead, he poured them both cups of coffee and took them into the living room, where he patted the space next to him on the couch. “Take a load off.” He grabbed a throw blanket from the back of the couch and tucked it over her lap. “It’s cold in here.”

  “I’ll turn on the heat,” she said.

  “I’ll get it.” He got up, found the thermostat, and cranked it up to sixty-eight degrees. Wondering if she left it off to save money, he said, “I owe you a child support check for the month.”

  “No, you don’t. You already gave me money.”

  “We’ve got to work that out, Tawny. I don’t think I’m paying you enough. Maybe we should talk to a lawyer about what the going rate is.”

  “You pay me plenty, Lucky. I don’t want charity.”

  “Who said anything about charity? Damn, Tawny, stop trying to prove your independence all the time. I don’t want to be like my old man. The guy never paid my mother a cent. I watched her kill herself to raise me like all the other kids. Same fancy tennis shoes, all the right clothes, a new winter coat every year. I’m not that man.”

  “I never thought you were,” Tawny said. “You’ve been amazing. But the most important thing to me is the transplant, Lucky. That means more to me than all the money in the world.”

  “She’s my kid. I’d give her a lung if she needed it.”

  “You hardly know her.” Tawny held up her palms. “Which I know you think is my fault.”

  His mother had this saying, la sangre llama, blood calls to blood. It didn’t matter that he hardly knew her. He could feel Katie in every cell of his body. His love for her was as instinctive as breathing. She was his and he was hers. “What’s done is done,” he said. “From here on in, I plan to be there every step of the way.”

  Tawny pulled her legs up and reclined on the couch. It was the most relaxed Lucky had ever seen her.

  “Before you found out about Katie, did you want children, Lucky?”

  “I didn’t not want ’em,” he said. “But my lifestyle wasn’t real conducive for a family, though some of the guys in the PBR have them. Were people bad to you?” He knew it couldn’t have been easy for her to be an eighteen-year-old unwed mother in a small town with a fair share of small-minded people.

  “People were actually pretty wonderful. Those first couple of years, my dad and I didn’t have two nickels to rub together, but the town pulled together, bringing me baby clothes, toys, even diapers.”

  “The way you are, it must’ve killed you,” Lucky said.

  “I had to swallow my pride.”

  “You should’ve hunted me down, Tawny.”

  “Honestly, at that time I don’t think you had much more money than I did. You would’ve come home, done the right thing, Ray would’ve made your life a living hell, Cecilia would’ve lost her job, and our baby would’ve heard whispers about how her dad tried to rape Raylene Rosser.”

  “No one would’ve believed that crap. I grew up in Nugget . . . these people know me. For a tough woman, Ray Rosser sure had you running scared.”

  “I was a poor kid with a sick dad and a baby in my belly. Everything ran me scared.”

  The statement made his stomach churn. God, she must’ve been so alone. “Come here.” He pulled her toward him and wrapped his arms around her so that her back fell against his chest, and held tight. “Not anymore, though, right?”

  “Of Ray Rosser? Nope. I’ve got more pressing things to scare me.”

  He heard that. Absently, he stroked her hair and he saw her eyes close, long lashes sweeping the top of her cheekbones. For a long time they didn’t say anything, and eventually she fell asleep in his arms. It felt natural having her there, cradled against him, though a bit cramped. He too nodded off, until dawn’s early light came streaming through the lace curtains.

  “Tawny.” He jostled her. “Wake up, honey.”

  “Huh?” She flopped on top of him, trying to turn on her side.

  Ah hell. He slipped out from beneath her, lifted her into his arms, and carried her into the bedroom. She squinted up at him as if she was having trouble getting her eyes into focus.

  “Lucky?”

  “Yeah. We fell asleep on the couch. I figured you wouldn’t want Katie to come to the wrong conclusion.”

  “What time is it?” She wiggled out of his arms to look at the clock on her nightstand. “It’s late.”

  Not by his standards. Then again, he wasn’t much of a morning person, t
hough that would have to change now that he owned a ranch.

  She rotated her neck. “I can’t believe we both fit on the sofa. God, I’m sore.”

  His brows went up, and she must’ve guessed what he was thinking because she swatted his arm.

  “Get out of here,” she said. “You can’t be in here when Katie wakes up.”

  He’d never seen her room before and wanted a chance to look around. It wasn’t decorated as well as Katie’s, but it was painted nice.

  “What would you call that color?” he asked her, cocking his head at the wall.

  “Eggplant, I guess. Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “You need to go.” She shooed him with her hands. “Or better yet, make us some coffee.”

  “Where’d you get that bossy gene? I remember your old man as mild mannered.”

  “Must’ve been my mom. Now get.”

  He snuck out the door, closed it quietly, and peeked in on Katie. Still sound asleep, clutching that fuzzy stuffed animal. Today he planned to take a couple of pictures of her to hang up in his trailer. He’d bought his ma a nice camera one year for Mother’s Day. Maybe he’d borrow it. Speaking of his mother, he needed to call Cecilia, who was probably worried sick. His phone was on the coffee table with his wallet. Grabbing both, he went into the kitchen, measured out the coffee, poured in the water, and hit the switch. Then he direct-dialed his mother, who answered on the second ring.

  “I stayed at Tawny’s last night. Sorry I didn’t call.”

  “Tawny’s?” His mother sounded surprised.

  “I came over to check on Katie and fell asleep on the couch.” From the background noise it didn’t sound like Cecilia was alone. “Jake there?”

  “Yes. Would you like to talk to him?”

  “Yeah, put him on.” When Jake came on, Lucky asked, “Can I go home yet?”

  “I told you it would be a couple of days.”

  “Did someone feed my stock?”

  “I did.” Jake’s voice sounded gravelly, like he hadn’t slept all night.

  “Thanks. You make an arrest?”

  Jake was quiet for a beat. “Someone is in custody.”

  Lucky was stunned. As of last night there hadn’t even been a suspect. Lucky had only asked to needle Jake. “Who?”