Chapter Twelve
Mona slammed her hand against the steering wheel, the truck veering onto the shoulder before she straightened it. “How could I be so blind?”
“You trust people.” Reed held on to the handle above the door, his gaze flicking from the road to her. “There’s no crime in trusting people.”
“Apparently there is.” Despite her anger, Mona was glad he’d insisted on coming with her. “For that matter, why should I trust you?” She glared at him.
“You probably shouldn’t.” His sad smile did nothing to calm her.
In fact it made her madder. How could he sit in that seat looking so damn handsome she could barely keep her eyes on the road? “Why are you still working for me? Other men would have quit at the first sign of trouble. What makes you different?”
“I guess you could say I have a habit of sticking up for the underdog.”
“Now you’re comparing me to a dog?” She laughed, only the sound came out as more of a snort. “I’m flattered.”
“Slow down and, while you’re at it, quit twisting my words.” He tightened his grip on the handle, all evidence of his smile wiped away when she took the turn off the ranch road onto the pavement too fast.
If not for the seat belt, he’d have been slung across the seat into her. Mona almost regretted the fully functional seat belts.
“By the way, where are we going?” he asked.
“Dusty’s place. I have a bone to pick with the man.”
“Oh no you’re not.” Before she could pick up speed, Reed reached over and switched the ignition key to the off position.
How dare he? Mona shifted the truck into neutral and switched it back on. “Don’t do that. You could have gotten us killed.”
“And you could get us killed. If Dusty is the one who dragged Jesse around the central pasture and shot the Mexican at the granary, you could be walking into an explosive situation.”
“I have a baby to think about. I won’t do anything stupid.” She stared across at Reed. “I have to know.”
“Why don’t you take it to the sheriff?”
Mona snorted. “He’s as worthless as teats on a billy goat.”
Reed laughed out loud. “I’ve never heard Parker referred to as…well, anyway. If you can’t take it to Parker, let me handle it.”
“I won’t stand by and let him get away with hurting the people I care about, damn it.” Were those tears blurring her vision? She swiped at her eyes. “Damn hormones. Really, I never cry. In fact, I’ve never thought like a female before in my life.”
“I believe you. Maybe now’s the time you should. Your baby needs your love and protection. Pull over.”
They’d already reached the outskirts of Prairie Rock where the density of the houses was greater the farther into town they drove.
Should she let him handle it? Mona slowed and turned right on Third Street. “Too late, we’re here.”
The dingy white clapboard house was almost as small as the shed out back of Mona’s ranch house. The screen door hung lopsided on one hinge and the paint curled off the wooden door frame. Old metal chairs littered the front yard, along with worn tires and a pair of broken sawhorses. In the gravel driveway sat the old truck Mona recognized as the one Dusty drove to her house every day. No lights shone from inside and the tattered blinds were drawn.
“Suppose he’s home?” She sat behind the wheel, not at all anxious to get out, now that they were here. What would she say to Dusty when she confronted him? Did you kill the Mexican? Did you almost kill Jesse? Are you stealing my cattle? What did she expect as an answer? He’d deny everything and where would that leave her? Accusing him of something she couldn’t prove. “We need evidence.”
“Of what?”
“Cattle rustling, connections with whoever owns the truck. Something, anything.” She stared around the other houses in the neighborhood. Most were boarded up or run-down with broken windows staring like ghosts at the once-lively street. “I can’t just park here if we’re going to look around.”
“So now you’re going to spy on Dusty?” Reed shook his head. “No way.”
She pressed her foot to the gas pedal and sent the truck shooting forward and around to the next block. A small overgrown field afforded a wide area to pull off the road. She shoved the truck into park and climbed down. Without waiting for Reed to follow, she tramped across weed-infested yards back over to Third Street and Dusty Gaither’s house.
“I really wish you’d reconsider,” Reed said, running to catch up to her. “You’re in no condition to be playing detective.”
“If Dusty is involved, I need enough evidence to get the police to take me seriously.”
“Then let me do this.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her up against him. “Please, Mona, go back to the truck and wait.”
Pressed hard against Reed’s chest, Mona couldn’t breathe, not because he held her too tightly, but because she couldn’t breathe when she was this close to the man. “Reed, you don’t understand. I can’t go back. These are my people, my home, my ranch being threatened. If this was your family, would you turn your back on them?”
Reed stiffened and he drew away from her. “You’re right. I don’t understand.”
“We may not have much time. If we want to look through his things, we need to do it and get out before he comes home. Are you with me, or not?” She stared at him for a long time. She was asking him to break the law, something he used to be a part of. Was that fair? “Never mind. I’m already in trouble with the law, just stand guard and warn me if someone drives up.” With that she turned on her booted heels and strode across the street.
Before she’d gone two yards, Reed caught up with her again and moved ahead. “If anyone is going to break the law, it’ll be me.”
Mona admired the way his muscles rippled beneath the tight jersey knit of his black T-shirt. Hatless, his blond hair shone with red and gold highlights glinting across the short waves. In the daylight, she could finally see some of what her fingers had explored the night before and her body heated all the way to her core.
With a forcible shake, she pulled her head out of the desire threatening to derail her efforts and hurried to keep up with the man knocking on Dusty’s front door.
* * *
A FTER THE FOURTH KNOCK , Reed concluded Dusty Gaither wasn’t home. With a quick glance around at the deserted neighborhood, he hurried around the back of the building, Mona close on his heels. He wished she’d gone back to the truck. He didn’t like the idea of her getting caught breaking the law. She’d be back in jail in a flash and her lawyer and connections could do nothing to bail her out again.
The backyard was even junkier than the front, with an old engine dangling by a chain from a tree, a rusty washing machine on its side in a stand of weeds hip high. The trash can by the back door overflowed with pizza boxes and beer bottles. Reed went straight for the can. A man’s garbage told a lot about the man. He tossed the pizza boxes to the ground, followed quickly by newspapers and beer bottles.
Without questioning, Mona dug into the mess, pulling out hamburger wrappers and papers.
“It can’t be good for your baby to be going through trash.”
“You’re more worried than a mother hen about this baby.” She didn’t stop what she was doing, all but turning upside down to get to the bottom stack of old bills and soda cans. “I promise to wash my hands when we’re done.” When she straightened, she frowned at the papers she’d found. “Looks like a credit-card bill and a bank statement.”
“Let me see.” Reed leaned over her shoulder and stared down at the food-smeared documents. “He likes to spend money, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, more than what he made at Rancho Linda.”
“Looks like more than what he made at both the ranch and what your uncle paid him.” He pointed at a charge for a thirty-six-inch plasma television set at the electronics store down in Amarillo.
“Whew, look at the balance.” Mona’s eyes widened. “Over fifteen thousand dollars.”
“Our man Dusty is in way over his head.”
“Look at this.” Mona held up a past-due notice from the local utilities company and another from a financial institution listing a loan for a new truck.
“Looks like he likes to spend money he doesn’t have.” Reed dug around in the last of the trash and started putting it all back into the can. “It’s a motive, but it’s not enough.”
“We need to get inside.” Mona reached for the rusty handle to the back screen door.
“Not we.” Reed removed her hand from the handle and stared down at her. “Stay outside and warn me if he drives up.” He tipped her chin upward and stared down into her liquid brown eyes. “Please.”
Her teeth bit into her bottom lip, making Reed want to kiss it. Finally she let it go and nodded. “Okay. But hurry, will you?”
He bent and acted on his urge, pressing a kiss to her lips. “I will.” Expecting to have to pry the lock, he was amazed when the wood-paneled door opened and swung inward just by turning the knob, making breaking and entering much easier.
Reed moved through the kitchen, noting the ancient sink and cabinets that must have been there since the early fifties. Rust stains ringed the sink drain and the vinyl floors peeled up around the edges.
He pulled the drawers open, quickly moving through the kitchen without finding anything worth clueing in on. In the tiny living area, a massive television stood in the corner, blocking most of the window. A sofa with missing cushions and a crocheted blanket thrown over the back looked as if it had been lived in by rats. Beer bottles littered the rickety coffee table and the threadbare rug. The place reeked of stale beer, old shoes and filth.
On an end table, buried beneath the television guide and dog-eared copies of Sports Illustrated , Reed found a bank statement.
“Find something useful?”
Reed spun, dropping into a fighting stance before he realized the voice in his ear was Mona’s. “I thought you said you’d play lookout.”
“Figured I could hear a vehicle from inside as well as outside, given how old the house is and the fact it probably isn’t well insulated.”
“Still, I’d feel better if you waited outside.”
She tilted her head to the side, her eyes going wide. “Too late.”
Reed froze, his ears picking up the sound of an engine headed their way. “Quick. Out the back door.”
“Can’t.” Mona ducked to peer out the window. “He’s pulling around that way.” She ran for the front door, but the door was jammed shut. “Shootfire, it won’t open.”
“Come on.” Reed grabbed her hand and raced into a tiny bathroom. He shoved her into the claw-foot tub, surrounded by an ancient shower curtain hanging by its last five intact rings, and climbed in beside her. “How can I keep you safe if you refuse to do what I say?”
“No one tells me what to do, cowboy. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” She shot him a crooked smile about the time the back screen door opened and slammed shut. Booted feet clomped through the house into the bedroom, where dresser drawers were opened and slammed shut. A door banged open and closed with enough force to rattle the bathroom walls.
Mona jumped, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Reed circled her waist, resting his palms over her baby bump, gently pulling her against his chest.
The stiffness in her shoulders relaxed only slightly, but she leaned against him, her hands coming up to cover his. He liked it.
Too much. Inhaling the scent of her hair almost made him forget the compromising position they were in, standing in Gaither’s tub.
“Hey.” Dusty’s voice, muffled by the thickness of the walls. “I need more money. Meet me behind the bank in five minutes or I’ll let the cat out of the bag.” The plastic crack of a phone hitting the cradle carried through the walls. “Stupid son of a—” Footsteps moved toward the small bathroom.
Reed held his breath and Mona’s wrist. Her pulse beat like a runaway metronome.
The toilet lid clattered against the tank and the sound of liquid spraying into water was accompanied by the sharp odor of urine.
Mona’s belly clenched and her hand moved to cover her mouth and nose.
The rasp of a zipper was followed by footfalls and Dusty left the bathroom and the house, the screen door slamming behind him.
“He didn’t even flush or wash his hands.” Mona stumbled out of the bath and into the living room.
Reed followed, checking out the kitchen window to see Dusty’s truck pulling out of the driveway. “Come on.” Reed grabbed her hand and ran out the back door and to the street. When Dusty’s truck disappeared around the corner, Reed ran across the road and through the neglected yards of the abandoned houses.
Mona pulled her hand free of his and stopped, bending double, her face creased in pain. “Go on without me.”
Guilt hit him in the chest like a tight knot. He’d forgotten for a moment that Mona couldn’t run as fast as he could in her condition. He slid to a halt and hurried back to her. “Are you all right? No labor pains or anything?”
“No, just a stitch in my side. I’ll be fine as soon as I catch my breath. In the meantime Dusty’s getting away. Go on. I’ll be fine. I can walk downtown to Dee’s Diner and wait for you there.”
Reed shook his head. “I won’t leave you.”
As she straightened, Mona forced a smile, her face tight. “See? I’m fine. Now go on.” Then she doubled over again, clutching her side. “Damn!”
Reed scooped her into his arms and carried her to the truck as though she were no heavier than a sack of feed.
“You can’t go carrying me around everywhere, you know.” Mona’s lips pressed into a tight line and the arm around his shoulder remained stiff. “You’re going to miss who Dusty is meeting with.”
Reed eased her onto the truck seat and buckled her in before going around to the driver’s seat. “I think we need to take you to the hospital.”
“If you aren’t going to follow Dusty, move over so that I can drive.” She started to unbuckle her seat belt.
“I’ll drive.” But he wasn’t too happy about it. He glanced at Mona several times along the short trip to the town square where the bank was located.
Mona glared at him. “Stop staring at me. I’m not going to break. Where the heck is he?”
When neither Dusty nor his truck could be found on the square, Reed circled the block behind the bank and crept down the street, trying to catch glimpses of the alleyway between the businesses and the bank. “There.” He stopped and pointed at the dark metallic gray pickup parked in front of Daisy’s Florist Shop. Dusty wasn’t in the truck. Reed pulled around the corner and parked. “Stay here. Do you understand? If you follow me, I’ll personally carry you back to the truck and all the way to Amarillo to the hospital.”
“You can’t do that. It would be kidnapping.” Mona crossed her arms over her chest. “I want to see who he’s meeting as well as you do.”
“Who’s to say you won’t get another stitch in your side?” He gave her a stern look and appealed to her in another way. “You could slow me down.”
Her dark brows arrowed downward. “Okay. But hurry. I have to pee.”
A smile curved his lips as he climbed down from the truck and entered the alley behind a building farther away from the bank. He peered around the corner of the building and spied Dusty facing the back of the bank, apparently talking to someone standing in the back door. Dusty didn’t look happy, his voice rising.
“I need more. Either you give me twenty thousand or I go to the newspaper with the story.”
Another voice murmured in low tones Reed couldn’t hear. Who was it? Easing around a Dumpster, he worked his way closer to the pair in the alley.
“You’ll pay one way or another,” Dusty said.
Reed stepped around a stack of cardboard boxes with flower petals and leaves clinging to them. Just as he was about to lean around another Dumpster, he must have nudged the stack. A dozen boxes toppled over.
On the other side of the Dumpster, Dusty muttered, “Damn.” He made a break for an alley, cutting through to the street where he’d parked his truck.
Leaping over the fallen boxes, Reed landed in the middle of the alley in time to see Dusty disappear between buildings.
Reed raced after him. As he passed the back door to the bank, the door slammed shut. Pausing long enough to grab the door handle, he tried to open it to see who was behind it. The door was locked.
If he got to Dusty, he might wring a few answers out of him. When he emerged on the street where Dusty was parked, the other man had already backed out of his parking space. Reed ran out in front of the truck.
Dusty didn’t stop. He shoved the shift into drive and raced toward Reed.
With only inches to spare, Reed dived to the side, hitting the pavement and rolling out of the way of the truck’s wheels. By the time he leaped to his feet, Dusty had rounded the corner, squealing tires leaving a long trail of black rubber burned into the pavement.
His only hope of catching Dusty was to get to his truck quickly. Reed ran to the end of the street and turned the corner. Only his truck stood there. Empty. Where was Mona?
* * *
M ONA NEVER CLAIMED to be good at waiting. After two torturous minutes, she gave up and climbed down from the truck. She couldn’t go after Reed without possibly alerting Dusty to his presence.
Since Dusty was meeting someone behind the bank, what could it hurt to go inside the bank to see who was moving around? She could go in on the pretense of speaking with Mr. Kuhn about foreclosing on the loan. Maybe even try begging for a change. Anger and disbelief hadn’t done a thing for her. It galled her to consider getting on her knees to save her ranch. But hadn’t she said she’d do anything to protect her child’s heritage? So eating a little crow couldn’t be too bad.
She tugged her shirt, the long tails draping down almost to her knees. Before too long someone was going to wise up and notice she was preggers. Word would get back to Sheriff Parker and she’d be in the custody battle to end all custody battles. She really had to stop coming to town. But first, to find the lowdown, sons of a gun preying on her ranch.
Mona pushed through the glass doors and stepped into the cool bank lobby. Two tellers smiled at her. The first one, Doris Liehman spoke. “Good afternoon, Miss Grainger. What can I do for you today?”
“Is Mr. Kuhn available? I’d like to speak with him.”
“Let me check.” Doris stepped around the counter and crossed the tiled floor to the hallway leading into the back office area.
Mona followed and waited while Doris knocked on Mr. Kuhn’s door. She waited and knocked again. Finally, she opened the door and peered inside and then closed the door. “I’m sorry, he’s not in his office right now. He was here just a minute ago. If you’ll have a seat in the lobby, I’m sure he’ll be right back. Or I could leave a message.”
“I have a few minutes. I’ll wait.” Mona eyed the end of the hallway that led to the bank’s back door. Only employees could go in and out of the back door. Was Mr. Kuhn the man Dusty was meeting outside in the alley? If so, why?
Doris returned to her teller window with an apologetic smile.
Mona took a seat in the lobby that afforded her a view of the hallway and the back door. She didn’t have to wait long.
Kuhn practically leaped in through the door, locking it behind him. Okay, this was interesting. What business did Kuhn have with the likes of Dusty Gaither?
Mona leaned back, out of sight of the hallway, and gave Mr. Kuhn time to make it to his office, before she stood and walked back.
Without knocking, she entered his office and closed the door behind her quietly.
Apparently, Mr. Kuhn didn’t hear the door open or close. He stood with his back to her, staring out his window at the brick building next to the bank.
Mona cleared her throat.
Mr. Kuhn swung around, his eyes wide. “How the hell did you get in here?”
Feigning innocence, Mona motioned toward the door. “The normal way. I need to discuss things with you.”
His eyes narrowed and he glanced down at his watch. “I’m sorry, but I have an appointment in exactly two minutes.”
“I’m sure it can wait.” Mona stalked across the floor and stood in front of Kuhn’s desk. “Why is it that when I went to apply to another bank for a loan, I discover my credit has been ruined?”
A mask dropped down over Kuhn’s face, his green eyes hardening to look like granite. “I have no idea. It’s your credit rating, not mine.”
“Seems this bank has indicated I’ve been late paying my loan payments every month for the past year.” Mona crossed her arms over her chest. “How can that be when I get them to you early?”
“Credit-reporting tools aren’t infallible.”
“Yeah.” Mona seethed inwardly. She’d suspected it when he’d informed her that the bank was foreclosing on her, but now she had her proof. Kuhn was trying to force her into selling her property or taking it as collateral in a foreclosure. “Bastard.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I have another appointment.” Kuhn walked around the desk and to the door.
“Why do you want Rancho Linda? What’s so special about it that you’d ruin me to get it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now please leave before I call the sheriff.”
“Tell me this, then.” Mona walked up to Kuhn and stood toe to toe with the son of a bitch who’d ruin a lone female rancher without batting an eyelash. “Are you and Dusty Gaither behind the cattle rustling?”
A muscle in Kuhn’s jaw twitched, but his eyes remained cold. “I have nothing to do with the cattle rustling or Dusty Gaither.”
“And if I take it to the police, I’m sure they’ll prove that.”
“Absolutely. Now leave before I call the sheriff.” He opened the door and held it for her.
Mona stepped into the door frame, but not through. “I think it’s time I get a lawyer. Perhaps you’d better do the same.” She turned to leave and stopped, twisting around. “Oh, and just so you know, I’d sell to my uncle Arty before I’d ever consider selling to an oil speculator.”
As she left the bank, two men in suits entered. The same men who’d been at the diner the other day when she’d met with Catalina. The men she’d said were oil brokers. Mona turned and stared at their backs as Doris led them into Kuhn’s office.
Was that it? Was he after her land for the oil? Oh yeah, she was definitely calling her lawyer as soon as possible. She hurried back to the truck to inform Reed of what she’d learned.
When she turned the corner, she practically ran headfirst into him.
His face was stormy and he grabbed her arms. “Where have you been? I thought I told you to stay put.”
“I had business to conduct.” As close as he stood, she could smell the soap on his skin, and the light musk of pure male. Her stomach fluttered, her body heating at his touch.
His hands tightened on her arms in an almost bruising grip, before he dropped them, shaking his head. “You’re killing me, Grainger.”
“Better me than someone else.” Ignoring the warmth spreading throughout her body, Mona hurried to the truck, climbing into the driver’s seat. “We have work to do.”
Reed slipped into the passenger’s side.
Before his door was fully closed, she shifted the truck in reverse and pulled out into the street.
“Where did you go?”
She shrugged. “I had business at the bank.”
Reed closed his eyes and counted to ten. “And what did you find out?”
“You first.” Mona cast him an amused smile. “I promise I’ll tell if you tell.”
“Dusty met with someone at the back door to the bank.”
Mona nodded. “Mr. Kuhn.”
“How do you know?”
“I was in the bank when Kuhn came rushing in the back door like a scalded cat.”
“Tell me you didn’t confront him.” Reed looked over at her, his eyes narrowing when she didn’t answer immediately. “You didn’t, did you?”
“I told you, I had business. I met with Mr. Kuhn about my loan.” She turned a corner a little faster than she should, the back two wheels slipping across pavement, sending up an earsplitting screech.
“You confronted him.” Reed shook his head. “What do I have to do, tie you up to keep you from hurting yourself?”
Mona grinned. “That idea has promise.”
When he didn’t laugh, she sighed. “Kuhn has screwed up my credit. He’s still threatening to foreclose and take Rancho Linda. I more or less accused him of being behind the rustling efforts with Dusty Gaither.”
Reed’s brows shot upward. “And?”
She shrugged. “He denied it, of course.”
“Did he say anything about his meeting with Dusty?”
“He said he didn’t have anything to do with Dusty.”
Reed looked around at the street she turned down. “Where are you going?”
“I think my truck needs a bit of bodywork. Les and Wayne’s body shop is just the place.” She pulled into the gravel parking lot in front of a dilapidated building. Rolled-up overhead doors gaped open, exposing the interior clutter of old car doors, bumpers and fenders.
Mona climbed down from the pickup studying the two trucks parked in front of the body shop, one new and shiny, the other beat-up and dented. Wrecked cars flanked the sides of the building, grease spots stained the ground and grubby prints adorned the door frames. Why had Les and Wayne been talking with the Mexicans? Oscar the bartender had mentioned seeing them together.
“Are you thinking Les and Wayne had something to do with the shooting at the granary?” Reed stared across at her.
Mona shrugged. “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything to endanger myself and the baby. I’m here on business.”
She detected shadowy movements inside the shop, maybe two people, but she couldn’t make them out. Wayne Fennel worked here along with Les Newton. The beauty of a small town. Everyone knew everyone else and where they belonged.
With a deep breath and determined steps, Mona met Reed at the front right fender and pretended to study the dent that had been there since well before her father died, but suddenly needed fixing.
Wayne strutted out, dressed in his signature starched blue jeans and shiny cowboy boots, reeking of cheap cologne and stale cigarettes. “Afternoon, Mona. What brings you into town?” His tone, open and friendly, didn’t exactly match the narrowed eyes.
Mona forced a friendly smile and stuck out her hand to Wayne. “Thought I’d get an estimate on what it would take to fix my front bumper. Been meaning to for a long time.”
He took her hand, his gaze sweeping her from head to foot, coming back to the deep valley of her breasts, peeking out of the cotton button-up shirt she’d chosen to wear that morning.
Reed stepped forward, blocking Wayne’s view. “So what do you think about the bumper?” Tight-lipped, his tone and hard glare was enough to shake Wayne’s mind out of the cleavage and back to the truck repairs.
Her stomach churning, Mona fought back the bile rising in her throat. Having Wayne touch her hand and stare at her like she was a naked woman in a porn magazine made her want to gag. And if he had anything to do with the rustling, God help him.
“Well, let’s see.” Wayne stared down at the bumper and scratched his head. “I’ll have to work up an estimate.”
“I’ve got a few minutes, I’ll wait.” Mona walked toward the shop. “I could do with a soda.” She fished in her pockets for change, all the while scanning the darker interior of the body shop.
“We got a lot of cars ahead of you. I don’t think I can get to it until sometime next week.” He followed her, his boots slipping in the gravel as he scrambled to catch up.
“That’s okay, I just want an estimate. Not sure the old truck is worth fixin’. Knowing what it’ll take might help me make that decision.” She counted out the change she needed for the faded soda machine outside the office door. “Les around? Haven’t seen much of him lately.”
Reed leaned against the overhead door frame. “I hear Les does good work. I might have a job he can do for me. Where is he?”
“Les called in sick.” Wayne stepped into the dirty office area where papers littered the desktop, held down by a ball-hitch paperweight.
His office smelled of grease, oil and cigarettes. An ashtray overflowed with spent butts.
The stench turned Mona’s delicate stomach. She shot a glance at Reed and blocked the doorway with her body, giving Reed a chance to slip inside the shop and have a look around. “That’s too bad. I hope it isn’t contagious. Hate to see you get whatever he’s got.”
“Oh, it’s not contagious.” Wayne grabbed a pen and estimate worksheet. “Just the bumper?” His glance shot over her shoulder through the doorway.
“I don’t know. Could you work up an estimate on the tailgate as well? I dropped a round bale on it, which snapped the retaining wires.”
Wayne scratched on the paper. Nothing came out of the pen. He slammed the pen in the trash and dug in the desk drawer for another. “Front bumper and tailgate. Year, model?”
Mona gave him the details and he wrote the information down in a hurry, then stood. “I’ll have to make calls about the tailgate and get back to you on the estimate. You can call back tomorrow.”
Mona stood in the doorway, her body tense, blocking Wayne’s escape. “Pretty wicked storm last night, huh?”
“I guess. Didn’t notice.”
“You weren’t out in it, were you?”
Wayne looked at her through slitted eyes. “I said I didn’t notice.” He took the three steps that positioned him directly in front of Mona. “Why do you ask?”
With Wayne towering over her, Mona wasn’t feeling so brave all of a sudden. She stepped out of the office and turned to where Reed had been leaning against the overhead door leading into the shop. He wasn’t there. Her heart skipped several beats before slamming into fast gear. She spun back toward Wayne. “I was wondering, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could get a good used four-wheeler, would you?”
He shrugged, his shoulders stiff, the muscle in his jaw twitching. “Wouldn’t know. Look in the Amarillo newspapers.”
“I have, but it’s hard to find one you can trust. Funny. Isn’t that the way with a lot of things nowadays?” With nothing left to say, and Wayne being less than forthcoming with his previous evening’s activities, Mona had no choice but to leave the shop. Where was Reed? “I’ll come by tomorrow for that estimate.”
“Don’t bother, just call.” Once she’d moved through the doorway, he stepped around her, his gaze panning the interior of the shop. “Where’d your boyfriend go?”