Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
T here were four drawers in the aging file cabinet.
Freddy directed Ry to pull them all out and carry them to the dining room, where no one would need the tables for at least two hours.
She called Leigh down at the corrals and asked her to come up and help.
Then she enlisted Belinda, so there was one person to a drawer.
“Anything that looks like a trucking company receipt, or a hauling receipt, or trash removal, or anything remotely sounding as if it could be what we need, sing out,” Freddy said as they began the search.
An hour and a half later, several possibilities had been found then discarded. The tables were piled with folders, and the drawers were almost empty. Leigh slapped her hand on the table in frustration. “Eb Whitlock is a horse’s ass! I have half a mind to ride over there and tell him so.”
“He’s just being an aggressive businessman,” Ry said. “Unfortunately for his plans, he’s also dealing with one. I’ll call in the morning and get somebody out here with a backhoe. Can you pinpoint the location for me, Freddy?”
Freddy’s chest tightened with anxiety. “I sure hope so.”
He frowned. “What do you mean, you hope so? If he had gas pumps, the drums would be right under that area, so you must remember where the pumps were.”
“I do. Somewhere behind the big corral.”
“Somewhere behind the big corral?”
Tears threatened. She’d been on an emotional roller coaster for too many days, and it was taking a toll. “I was ten, Ry! I don’t remember exactly.”
He rose from his chair. “Hey, it’s okay.” He crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her, in full view of Leigh and Belinda. “We’ll dig up whatever we have to in order to satisfy those creeps.”
She started to struggle away, but he held her tight. “Belinda and Leigh don’t care if I give you a hug,” he said gently. “And you look like you could use one.”
“Hey, kiss her if you want,” Leigh said. “It’s been a long afternoon.”
Ry chuckled. “I just might.”
“Don’t worry,” Belinda said. “I think I can remember where the pumps were. And Dexter can remember, too. We’ll find the right spot.”
“Somebody’s talking about me.”
Freddy peeked over Ry’s shoulder. Dexter stood in the doorway of the dining room. Balanced on his walker, he surveyed the stacks of files with disapproval. “What a mess!”
“We’re trying to find the receipt from that trucking company,” Freddy said.
“They are.” Dexter swept an arm toward Leigh and his wife. “You’re not.”
Freddy laughed. “No, I’m hugging Ry.”
Dexter nodded. “Good.”
“Yeah.” Freddy leaned back and smiled into Ry’s face. “He’s one of the good guys.”
“That’s it!” Dexter exclaimed, clomping into the room with his walker. “Good guys! Good guys!”
Freddy disentangled herself to turn and stare at Dexter.
“Dragging!” Dexter said, obviously very excited. “No, lifting! Big. Real big! Round! Thataway!” He pointed in the direction of the road.
Leigh pushed herself up from the table, her attention focused on Dexter. “Are you talking about the drums, Dex?”
“Yeah! Good guys!”
Disappointment swept over Freddy. She had thought maybe Dexter was remembering something significant, when he was only making a comment about the men who had done the hauling. Apparently, he’d liked them. “I’m sure they were good guys, Dexter. But we need the name of the company.”
Belinda jumped up so fast, she knocked over her chair. “That was the name of the company. There was a trucking company back then that called themselves Good Guys!”
With a gasp, Freddy ran for the Yellow Pages. She hurried back, flipping through the book. Then her shoulders sagged again. There was no Good Guys Trucking Company. “I guess they’ve gone out of business.”
“Or somebody else bought them out,” Ry said, reaching for the book. “Give me a few minutes in your office, chérie .”
“Ooh la-la!” Leigh said as he left the room. “Big sister, my hat’s off to you for catching a stud who speaks French.”
“Good Guys,” Dexter said again, nodding. “I remembered.”
“Yes, you did.” Freddy walked over and squeezed his arm. “It’s not your fault they’re out of business.”
Belinda started reloading files into a drawer. “We’ll have to clean this up pretty quick. Dinnertime’s almost here.”
“Right,” Freddy agreed. She and Leigh lifted stacks of files and settled them in the drawers. Leigh started to pick up a drawer that was full. “Let Ry do that when he comes back,” Freddy said.
Leigh set the drawer down with a grin. “My, how quickly you’ve become used to having a big, strong man around.”
Freddy gazed at her sister. “It’s a little scary, isn’t it?”
“I think it’s lovely,” Belinda said, patting her last files into place. “Now, I’d better go see how everyone’s coming along in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, Belinda,” Freddy said. “We couldn’t have?—”
“I found them!” Ry strode into the room waving a piece of paper. “Cunningham Trucking bought out Good Guys sixteen years ago.”
Freddy was almost afraid to ask. “But do they have any records that go back that far?”
Ry’s jubilant grin provided the answer. “The senior Mr. Cunningham saves everything, according to a disgruntled secretary. She promised she would have no trouble locating the receipt, and she was glad that there was some justification, at long last, for keeping all those dusty files. I gave her your fax number. She expects to send it within the hour.”
Freddy had hurled herself into his arms before she realized it. She kissed him soundly and whirled away to pump Dexter’s arm. “You did it,” she said, grinning at both of them. “What a team.”
Both Dexter and Ry looked immensely pleased with themselves. Ry turned to the old man and held out his hand. Dexter shook it with enthusiasm.
Leigh sauntered up, eyes sparkling. “Congratulations, and all that. But it’s time to get back to work, Ry, my friend. Freddy says you’re the man to call when it comes to hefting file drawers, and we’ll have dinner guests coming in any minute now.”
“No problem. I’ll?—”
“In fact,” Leigh said, glancing around Ry, “someone just came through the front door with a suitcase. Freddy, were we expecting another guest tonight?”
“Not that I know of.” She looked at the man silhouetted against the open doorway, a battered suitcase in his hand and a cowboy hat on his head. “Maybe he’s looking for a job,” she said in a low tone. “I’ll go see.”
But before she could approach the stranger, he plunked down his suitcase and strode into the dining room, his boot heels hitting the pine floor with a confident thump. “T.R., is that you? Didn’t recognize you without your briefcase and three-piece suit.”
Ry turned in surprise, and his eyes widened. “Lavette! Where did you come from? Why didn’t you let us know you were heading in?”
“Thought I’d surprise you.” He shook Ry’s hand.
Freddy assessed the man’s clothes, dusty but new, and smiled.
Another urban cowboy had arrived. He looked less than thirty years old, with a devilish gleam in his green eyes and a dimple in his cheek.
Thick dark hair reached to his collar. She was already figuring out which horse to put him on, when Ry turned to her.
“Chase Lavette, I’d like you to meet Freddy Singleton, the foreman,” he said.
“Glad to meet you.” He offered his hand in a firm grip.
“And Freddy’s sister, Leigh Singleton, the head wrangler,” Ry added.
Leigh responded to his handshake with a smile. “Welcome to the True Love. Do you speak French, Mr. Lavette?”
“Nope.” His grin was disarming. “I only know how to kiss that way.”
“Easy, Lavette,” Ry said, winking at Leigh. “These women can rope and hog-tie you in under thirty seconds if you’re disrespectful.”
Chase touched the brim of his hat. “No disrespect intended. Can’t afford it with my back.”
“How’s the healing coming along?” Ry asked.
“Pretty well. Sometimes I have good days, sometimes not so good. Today’s been good, so far.”
“What’d you do, walk from New York?” Ry asked, peering at the dust on his friend’s clothes.
“Just from the main road. Hitched from the airport, for the fun of it. If I’d had a saddle on my shoulder, it would’ve been perfect.” Chase laughed. “I see what you mean about the way the city’s moving in this direction, McGuinnes. This land is solid gold.”
As if in slow motion, Freddy looked at Ry. She saw the flash of panic in his eyes and her heart began to freeze. Then he turned from her and put his hand on Chase’s shoulder, as if to guide him away.
But Chase seemed determined to deliver his observations, oblivious to the dead silence that had settled over the room. “I’m sure that before long, this will be a subdivision, like you predicted, T.R., so I figured bad back or not, I’d better get out here and enjoy the place while I can.”