Chapter 8
Gunner went straight to Lowe’s Hardware, but when he didn’t see the truck Nora described, he circled the building to the employee parking lot.
It was there, and exactly as Pearl had described it.
He circled back around the building to park and went inside to look for Miles Terrell.
Even though Miles was Asher’s age, he remembered him, and headed for the lady at the checkout register.
“Afternoon,” she said. “Are you looking for something in particular?”
“Yes, Miles Terrell. I’m Gunner Kingston. I need to talk to him.”
“Oh, you’re one of Jacob’s boys. We’re praying for him. Miles is stocking shelves on aisle nine, I think.”
“Thanks,” Gunner said, wondering who the woman was as he headed toward the far side of the building.
When he saw the stocky, brown-haired man in blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt about halfway down aisle nine, he knew he’d found his man.
He walked past bins full of knobs and drawer pulls, and boxes and boxes of different-size screws, to where Miles was working. “Hey, Miles, got a minute?”
Miles turned and smiled in surprise. “Gunner Kingston! Man, it’s been a while. How’s Jacob? We all heard he made it through surgery.”
“He did, and holding his own. Still in ICU though. Listen, is there somewhere private we could talk…just for a few minutes? I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your boss.”
“Sure, follow me,” Miles said, and led him to their break room, and motioned toward a long table with benches on both sides. “Have a seat,” Miles said.
As soon as they had settled, Gunner lowered his voice and leaned forward. “You know I’m a homicide detective with the Dallas PD, and that Asher is a special investigator with the attorney general’s office, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I do. Jacob is always talking about all three of you,” Miles said.
“So, we’re helping Sheriff Reddick with the shooting at the bar.”
“Not surprised,” Miles said. “Pearl saved his life, didn’t she?”
“That she did,” Gunner said, “and that’s why I’m here, trying to verify the timeline of what she saw and heard.”
“Okay, but I don’t know how I can help with that,” he said.
“Maybe you can and just don’t know it,” Gunner said. “By any chance, were you driving your truck in Crossroads around midnight when the shooting occurred?”
Miles frowned, thinking back. “I was driving home from Tulia just before midnight. I’d been visiting a girl I date there.
Her name is Patsy Adams. I left later than I should have, and was driving back down the 86, and thinking about what was on the agenda at work the next day, and didn’t know I’d missed the turnoff into Crossroads until I realized I was passing the Yellow Rose, so I slowed down and made a U-turn in the Tumbleweed parking lot and backtracked. ”
“That’s perfect, Miles. You just verified Pearl’s timeline.
By that time, she’d already heard the gunshot and gotten out of bed.
She was looking out the window overlooking the highway when she said she saw a black pickup make a U-turn at the Tumbleweed, and then drive back toward town.
So…my question to you is, did you see anything in the parking lot or around the bar when you turned around?
Did you see the open door? Did you see another vehicle? Anything?”
“I didn’t even look toward the bar, but as I was turning, I saw the front end of a white sports car parked on the east side of the bar, the back half was in the shadows.
I wouldn’t bet my life on it, but I thought it was an older model Mustang.
I didn’t think anything of it other than probably a customer was too drunk to drive, and Jacob told him to leave it there. That happens from time to time.”
Gunner nodded. “Thanks a lot, Miles. This was a big help, and we’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention we’d talked about this, okay?”
“Sure thing, and just so you all know, we’re all praying for your dad.”
“We appreciate that,” Gunner said. “I’d better let you get back to work.”
They walked out of the break room together and then parted company.
Gunner hurried back to the SUV and was about to drive home when he remembered there was little to no food in the house, and headed to Belker’s.
* * *
Dylan had already poured Blood Buster stain remover on the stain behind the bar, and was letting it work before mopping it up.
He had taken the door off the hinges and made sawhorses out of two bar tables to lay it on and was working quickly, because the cold north air was blowing straight into the bar.
He’d already removed the plywood that had been tacked over it, as well as the trim and the rest of the broken glass.
He was cleaning out the old putty from around the opening when Ash returned.
“Wow…it’s cold in here.”
“I noticed,” Dylan said, and then grinned. “Get one of those putty knives and help me clean this out,” he said, and soon the brothers were working head-to-head, until Dylan called a halt. “That’s good. Now for the new glass.”
“Where is it?” Ash said.
“On the bar, sandwiched between those two pieces of cardboard. Help me carry it over here, and I’ll finish it off. Then you can help me hang the door back on the hinges. It’s heavy.”
A short while later, Dylan stepped back to eye his work. “Looks good to me. Let’s get this door hung and shut out that north wind.”
Dylan took one side and Asher the other as they carried the door back to the entrance. They stood it up, slipped the hinges in place, and then while Ash held the door, Dylan tapped the bolts back into place. After that, they closed and locked the front door.
“Great work,” Asher said.
Dylan shrugged. “It’s missing the gold lettering that was on it before, but Dad can have that done at a later date.
I’ll clean up the mess I made before I head back to Amarillo, and then wipe up the stain remover from behind the bar.
You go check on your girl. She has been dealing with the stress of elder care alone, for a long time.
Look at the mess we’re in now, but there’s three of us. She is in serious need of TLC.”
Before Ash could answer, he got a text from Gunner.
Miles saw a white sports car parked on the east side of the bar. He thought it was an older model Mustang and assumed someone had left it behind for being too drunk to drive. I’m at Belker’s getting groceries. Be back soon.
He showed Dylan the message. “That’s going to be an affirmative for me, if two witnesses both saw a white, older model Mustang there that night. I’ll update the sheriff later. You go get your stuff and get on the road. I can clean up. You still have to drive back, and it’ll get dark early.”
“Thanks,” Dylan said. “Keep me in the loop about what’s going on. I’ll make sure Dad knows you’re investigating the shooting. And if you need me for anything, I can be here in less than an hour, okay?”
“Absolutely,” Ash said. “Go on. Gunner and I will set up office on the kitchen table and take care of business here.”
Dylan left the bar and went into the house, while Ash got the broom and dustpan and began cleaning up and putting the bar tables back into place. Then after reading the instructions on the bottle of stain remover, proceeded to clean that up, as well.
He was putting the CLOSED sign back on the front door when he saw Dylan driving away, and Gunner arriving, then turned up the thermostat in the bar before retreating to the house to help Gunner.
“Nora still asleep?” Gunner said as he came in with his arms full of sacks and put them all on the kitchen counter.
Asher nodded as he got out two packages of ham steaks Gunner just brought home. “How good are you at cooking?” Ash asked.
“Good enough on basics. What do you need?” Gunner asked.
“Preheat the oven to 450. Wash three of those baking potatoes, wrap them in foil, and put them in the oven.”
Gunner grinned. “That, I can do. Just like old times, right, Ash? Big brother making our lunches for school, cooking our dinner before ball games, making breakfast. After the fall of the house of Brenda, you became our second dad. Pretty sure I never said thank you.”
Ash threw a potholder at him. “I didn’t need thanks. You guys were my brothers. I just wanted you to grow up enough to quit peeing the bed.”
Gunner grinned, then turned on the oven to preheat and went to get potatoes.
* * *
Nora woke to the smell of ham frying in a skillet, and for a few moments before she opened her eyes, could have almost convinced herself that she was home, and her mom was making supper.
But when she rolled over on her bandaged hand, the pain was all it took to remind her of where she was, and what had happened.
She’d often dreamed of what a reunion with Ash would be like.
Sometimes she dreamed she’d be in an airport, and she’d see him walking toward her up the concourse.
Other times she imagined she would be coming out of a store somewhere and run into him, like in the movies.
There would be this moment of shock between them, and then immediate vows of undying love.
But she’d never imagined they’d come together again because her whole family was dead, and someone had tried to murder his father.
And yet here they were. She was in his bed with stitches, and a very awkward bandage on her hand.
She groaned as she got up, made a quick trip to the bathroom, ran a hairbrush through the tangles in her hair, and dug a pair of sweatpants out of her overnight bag. It took a few minutes to get them on, and then she left the room.
She could hear Asher and Gunner talking as she came up the hall.
The cadence of their speech was alike, but Ash’s voice was deeper.
It was the only way she could tell who was talking, and the sound of his voice made her shiver in the very best way.
But the second she walked into the kitchen, Ash dropped the spoon in his hand and rushed toward her.