Borrowing Trouble Page 7

  “He was interested in me and I blew it.”

  “How?” Not that he really wanted a front-row seat to the girl’s love life.

  “He wanted to keep it casual because of our age difference and because I’d gone off to college, and I pushed for more until I drove him away.”

  He looked at her. “So don’t make the same mistake twice. Men don’t like needy.”

  “But I care about him,” she said.

  He let out a strained sigh, not wanting to get involved in a young woman’s drama. He had enough of his own. “I’m not the best guy to talk to about this kind of stuff. Maddy seems like she’d be better.”

  “She’ll just tell my brother. You, on the other hand, can give me a guy’s perspective. Plus, you’re hot.”

  What does being hot have to do with anything? Brady decided to ignore that comment. “You want my perspective? Finish school. Then worry about men.” Jeez, now he sounded like the kid’s father.

  She blew out a breath. “What about you? You seeing someone?”

  “Nope,” he said, and checked the list he’d taped to the oven hood with the number of guests he’d be serving this morning.

  “Maddy says the new police officer moved in next door to you at the duplex. You know that’s how Maddy and my brother met, don’t you?”

  “Yep, so I’ve heard.” He melted butter on the top of the stove.

  “She’s pretty . . . that new cop.”

  He stopped what he was doing and turned to Lina. “Don’t you have work to do?”

  “You’re no fun.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him and headed back to the front desk, only to pop her head back in five seconds later. “Hey, don’t forget to give me the info on Jake and Cecilia’s wedding. I need the cash.”

  “I’ll get it to you before you leave today.”

  “Thanks, Brady.”

  The girl was a little flirt—and a handful.

  “Good morning.” Sam wandered into the kitchen as Brady dropped eggs into a pot of simmering water. “I’m pulling breakfast duty for Maddy. She and Nate went over to Gold Mountain. What do you need me to do?”

  “You can set the sideboard with the usual spread.” In addition to a hot entrée, they put out cereal, yogurt, fruit, coffee cake, and a couple of juices. “I got the coffee going.”

  For the next hour, Brady served up more than a dozen plates of eggs Benedict. Most of the guests had come down to the dining room early, wanting to get a start on their day. With few stragglers, they had the kitchen cleaned up in no time.

  “So did you hear about this body they found at the Meet Up?” Sam asked Brady as she loaded the dishwasher. “Nate and I got in late last night from San Francisco. But I saw Harlee’s story this morning.”

  “Yeah, Sloane told me about it. It was just bones . . . a torso, maybe. She went back today to see what else she can find.”

  “You think it’s someone who’s been dead a long time and just washed up from the river?”

  “Could be. I suppose they’ll run tests. They can probably determine stuff like that.”

  “What else did she say? Did she think it was foul play?”

  “She said it was too early to tell. But it’s her case.”

  “Good. You can pump her for information. How’s that going, by the way?”

  “How’s what going?”

  “Living next door to her. I figure you must be happy for the company. It’s a little isolated up there on Donner Road.”

  “Harlee and Colin live just over the hill.”

  “Still.” She added soap to the dishwasher, turned it on, and straightened her back. “Are you at least neighborly?”

  “Of course.” He left it at that. The whole town liked to play matchmaker. “Our schedules are different. We don’t see all that much of each other.”

  “She seems nice . . . and adorable. Harlee invited her to the next bowling party. She said Sloane seemed excited about it.”

  “Yeah? When’s that?”

  “They have to figure out schedules so Wyatt and Connie can be included.” They were half the department. “You planning to go?”

  “Maybe.” He shrugged.

  “Wouldn’t want to commit to anything?” Sam teased.

  “I commit to the Lumber Baron every day.”

  “Yes, you do. And we’re incredibly thankful.” Sam kissed him on the cheek. “I’m taking a ride out to Lucky’s cowboy camp to help Cecilia with sketching out a table arrangement for the barn. Wanna come?”

  Brady rubbed the bristle on his chin. He’d forgone shaving this morning. “Nah. I’ve got some errands to run. But it’s nice of you to help Cecilia. I know they’re trying to do as much of it as they can on their own to save money.”

  “I love helping Cecilia. Compared to the bridezillas I deal with at the Breyer hotels, I ought to pay her for the privilege. It’ll be such a great wedding. I watched them fall for each other, you know? It was at Clay and Emily’s wedding . . . at our table. You were too busy running the kitchen to sit with us.”

  “It’ll be Lucky and Tawny next.” The whole damn town was getting married. Brady hoped it wasn’t contagious.

  “That’ll be quite a party.” Sam sighed. “I’m so happy for them.”

  Brady was catering that one too, and of course he’d done Sam and Nate’s wedding back in September. After Sam left, Brady pulled out some of the leftover bacon and made a BLT, wrapped it in plastic wrap, grabbed a bag of chips from the cupboard, gathered a couple of cookies from the jar, found a banana on the sideboard, and filled a thermos with coffee. He packed it up and jumped in his van. Five minutes later, he spied the spot everyone called the Meet Up. It wasn’t difficult given that the place crawled with police and sheriffs’ vehicles.

  He parked over at the high school and crossed the road, scanning the rocky beach below for Sloane. It was cold but clear, and the river ran full, despite California’s devastating drought. Brady supposed that the snow pack from the mountains continually fed the tributary. Yellow tape had been haphazardly strung across a roadside turnout used for parking—mostly by kids who hiked down the steep grade to the beach—to keep rubberneckers away and to free up more space for law enforcement.

  He finally spotted Sloane near the river’s edge, talking to a small group of men. She had on plain clothes and a Nugget PD baseball cap. Her blond ponytail swung through the back of the hat every time she moved her head. He tried to catch her attention without crossing the tape. His height gave him an advantage and eventually she lifted her head and saw him standing there. She flashed a beatific smile and he held up the lunch he’d packed. Signaling to give her five, she went back to talking to the men, then started her climb up the embankment. He couldn’t help himself and crouched under the tape, went to the edge of the ridge, and lifted her the rest of the way up.

  Her nose was red from the cold and her breath came out in white puffs. And for a minute he almost lost himself and kissed her. It surprised him. Kisses inevitably led to more, and his ordeal in Los Angeles had been enough to turn him celibate for the last nine months. But Sloane, who seemed so normal and beautiful, made him feel virile—and interested—again. She also scared the crap out of him.

  “I thought you’d need fuel,” he said. “I parked my van across the road. You could sit in there and eat.”

  “I only have about fifteen minutes, but that sounds like heaven right now.”

  He put his hand at the small of her back and led the way. As soon as they got inside, he turned on the ignition and cranked up the heat. Sloane used her teeth to pull off her gloves.

  “It’s a lot colder here than LA.”

  “But not as cold as Chicago?” He handed her the lunch he’d made and poured her a cup of coffee from the thermos.

  “Well, not as windy.” She pulled the sandwich out of the plastic wrap, took a bite, and sighed in appreciation. “I can’t believe you did this for me.”

  “Just trying to be a good citizen. How’s the investigation going so
far?”

  “I found the skull.”

  “Shit.”

  “No, it’s good. With dental records we may have a better chance of identifying the person.”

  “You any closer to that?”

  “No. But after I’m done here, I’ll go through law enforcement databases for missing people. Hopefully by then we’ll know the sex and a possible age—whatever the forensic anthropologist can tell us. We might even get DNA.”

  She ripped open the chips. “You want some?”

  “I’m good.”

  “I rushed off without breakfast.” She took a sip of the coffee and warmed her hands on the cup. “So good.”

  He grinned because she was so damned pretty. “Are all those guys down there sheriff’s deputies?”

  “It’s their crime-scene team. I kind of thought they’d be . . . you know . . . but they’re really good.” She looked around the van. “You’ve got a lot of stuff in here.”

  It’s pretty much where he stored his sports and camping equipment: spare skis, snowboard, snowshoes, a sleeping bag, tent, and kerosene stove. Why clutter the apartment?

  “Hey,” she said. “As soon as things slow down, I’m gonna make you dinner. I’m not much of a cook, so you can’t judge.”

  No one ever invited chefs to dinner except other chefs. Call it an occupational hazard. “No judgment.”

  “You better keep to that.” She inhaled the cookies and took a few more gulps of the coffee. If she wasn’t careful she’d burn her mouth. “I’ve got to get back. Thank you, Brady. This was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

  He doubted that because it wasn’t much. Just lunch.

  Brady watched in his rearview mirror as she crossed the road. She looked good in jeans and the blue ski jacket that hugged her curves. On the days she wore the uniform, she looked good in that too. He supposed a woman like her looked good in everything. And out of everything.

  As she disappeared down the embankment, Brady drove out of the parking lot with the scent of Sloane’s powdery perfume still fresh in the air. She was a nice woman and he enjoyed cooking for her. That’s all.

  Everywhere Griffin went he ran into Lina. At the Ponderosa, the Nugget Market, the Bun Boy, on the sidewalk in the square. Granted, there weren’t a lot of places to go in Nugget. But did she always have to be wherever he was?

  It was more than a man could take. Especially considering how beautiful she’d become. She’d always been gorgeous. Even the first day he’d met her in the Sierra Heights parking lot, puffy eyed from crying over her father’s death. But in San Francisco she’d blossomed into a full-fledged woman. She even carried herself differently— more self-assured, more poised, more feminine . . . ah hell, he didn’t know how to describe it. But she was different.

  Also different was the fact that she barely gave him the time of day. There was a time when she couldn’t get enough of him. And that had been the problem. She’d wanted more than he’d been willing to give due to their age difference. Now he wondered if that had been a mistake. Because if Griff wanted to be honest with himself, he was miserable.

  He tried dating other women. He went to Harlee and Darla’s bowling parties. He even let a few friends set him up. But he was just going through the motions. His mind was always on Lina.

  The strange thing was, he and Lina hadn’t even been together very long when she’d gone off to school. Yet, the first time he’d laid eyes on her he’d been spellbound. It was as if destiny had brought them together that day in the parking lot. He knew it sounded like a bunch of woo-woo crap. Until Lina, Griffin had never bought in to love at first sight or any of that other romantic nonsense. Before his inheritance, life had been too brutally realistic to believe in fairy tales. His mother had been a starry-eyed dreamer, and look where it had gotten her. Penniless and buried in a potter’s field.

  “I’m taking off.” Rico poked his head inside Griffin’s off ice. “Got a date.”

  Rico always had a date. Recently he’d been seeing a dealer over at the Atlantis in Reno. “Stay out of trouble.”

  “You too, man.”

  Griffin gathered up his stuff and followed Rico downstairs. Maybe he’d head over to the Ponderosa. Have a drink. If he was lucky, Lina wouldn’t be there. He took his truck instead of his bike. Despite another clear night, the weather had turned chilly. At the Ponderosa he grabbed a seat at the bar, noting that it was crowded for a weeknight. Hank Williams’s “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” blared. Great. Just what Griffin needed.

  He ordered a beer, used it to mark his spot, and got up to feed the jukebox. Something a little more upbeat. Willie Nelson’s “Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die,” Ray Wylie Hubbard’s “Screw You, We’re from Texas,” and the Beat Farmers’ “Gun Sale at the Church.” The Ponderosa cook, Tater, was in charge of the music and he liked to mix it up. Very few people knew the cook used to be in an alternative country band. But all the touring had gotten to him, so he’d retired. His parents used to own a diner in nearby Glory Junction before rents went through the roof. They’d sold the business, but Tater had learned how to cook there and got hired by Sophie and Mariah when the couple had bought the Ponderosa.

  As he walked back to his bar stool he bumped into Lucky Rodriguez, who was coming out of the john.

  “You hear about the body Clay’s kid found at the Meet Up?” Lucky asked.

  It was all anyone talked about. “Yeah. They figure out who it is yet?”

  “Not according to the Nugget Tribune. I just hope it doesn’t have anything to do with the stuff that went down at my place.” A couple of months ago there’d been a shooting on Lucky’s property over cattle rustling. It turned out that his workers were stealing livestock and dealing meth. The police bust had been big news.

  “I doubt it,” Griffin said. The poor guy had had enough problems—a daughter recovering from leukemia. “How’s Katie?”

  Lucky’s face brightened. “Come over to our table and see for yourself.”

  Lucky’s fiancée, Tawny, and their daughter, Katie, had snagged a corner booth. Griffin squeezed next to Katie and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The stem-cell transplant had worked wonders. He’d never seen the girl look so healthy; her cheeks were flushed with color and her eyes shone bright and lively.

  “You’re looking good, kiddo.”

  “I got a horse today. She’s a chestnut.”

  “Yeah? That’s awesome. I heard you’re an amazing rider.” He turned to Lucky and Tawny. “How’s the cowboy camp coming along?” It was a dude ranch, but Lucky didn’t like anyone calling it that. The champion bull rider thought it sounded lame.

  “Great,” they said in unison, and smiled at each other.

  “The house too,” Lucky continued. “It’s all finally coming together.”

  “Hey,” Tawny said, and leaned across the table. “I heard Lina’s back . . . that she’s going to school in Reno now. So?”

  He shrugged. “So nothing.”

  “You don’t even want to try?”

  Lucky kissed her. “You want romance, I’ll give you romance. Leave him be.”

  “How’s your ma’s wedding plans coming along?” Griffin asked. Cecilia and Jake’s upcoming nuptials were the talk of the town.

  “Good.” Lucky grinned. “You’re coming, right?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. I better get back to my seat before someone steals it and my beer. What’s up with this place tonight?”

  “It’s the only sit-down game in town, and the food’s decent.”

  Lucky was right. Yet Griffin owned the only gated community in town and you didn’t see anyone busting down his doors. “I’ll catch you guys later. Hey, Katie, I want to see you ride that horse.” The girl gave him a big smile and he made his way back to the bar.

  Griffin saw Owen walk in the door, waved him over, and gave up his stool for the old guy. “What are you drinking? It’s on me.”

  “Well, in that case I’ll have something fancy like one of those
Sex on the Beach drinks.”

  Griff wondered if anyone even drank those anymore. “Knock yourself out.”

  Owen flagged over the bartender and ordered a Coors—in a can. “You hear any more about that skeleton they found by the Meet Up? Blondie’s working the case.”

  Griffin narrowed his eyes. “You mean Officer McBride?”

  “Yep. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was one of those drug dealers from the ring Rhys and Jake brought down. Probably a kingpin slaying.” Owen made a gun with his fingers. “Execution style, right between the eyes. I tried to tell Blondie my theory, but she didn’t seem too interested.”

  Big shocker there. “Owen, I don’t know where you come up with this stuff. More than likely it’s a hiker who got lost in a snowstorm.”

  “Could be.” He scratched his whiskers. “But it seems to me that we would’ve heard about a missing person by now, don’t you think?”

  He had a point. “What’s Darla doing tonight?”

  “Wyatt’s off work. They were going to some Indian restaurant in Glory Junction. What’s going on with that real estate girl?”

  “We’re just friends,” Griffin said, and drained the rest of his beer. “I’ve gotta roll.” Yeah, if he was lucky he might be able to catch the tail end of Judge Judy on cable.

  “Suit yourself.”

  Griffin put down enough money for both drinks and a tip, and headed to the front of the restaurant. Almost out the door, and who should come along but the entire Shepard clan, including Lina. Griffin lifted his face skyward.

  “Hi, Griff,” Maddy called. “You leaving?”

  “Yeah. It’s a madhouse in here.” He peeked at Emma, Rhys and Maddy’s daughter, who was bundled up in her stroller. Cute kid. “You guys have a good dinner.” He managed to make his getaway without having to meet Lina’s eyes.

  Still, he’d been very aware of her. Too aware.