Chapter Nineteen #2
Audra thought about the conversation as she relayed it. Those earlier thoughts about how odd it had been came circling back. “Karly said that Dad always talked about his ancestral home.”
Rosalie snorted in disgust. “Yeah, fat lot he cared about that.”
“He did though. Maybe not the way we wanted him to, but he did. And he signed it over to me a while before he died. Before his son would have been old enough to have any part of it.”
“Not to protect you, Audra.”
“No, I don’t have any illusions about that. Because he told his son about it. His son who, according to Karly, bought in to the whole thing. So why did Dad tell his son about something he’d given me? Acted like he’d get it one day.”
“Because he was a dick?”
Audra sighed. “Yes, but it’s more, isn’t it?
If you set aside the hurt daughter and think like a PI.
Copeland’s trying to track Austin down, but he’s missing, so we can’t go to the source.
If Karly knows why he told them, she won’t say.
So I have to try and think about this from Dad’s point of view.
If you’re living two lives, how do you make sure they never connect? ”
Rosalie shrugged. “Be a lying bastard?” She wrinkled her nose when Audra frowned at her.
“Okay, okay. Think like a PI. You’d just have to make sure those lives never connect, right?
They were in Idaho. We were here, and pretty isolated here at that.
We had no reason to suspect anything, so…
isn’t it that easy when you’re a lying bastard? ”
“Maybe, but I’m starting to wonder… She was so angry. Karly. So bitter. About me, about us. She only came here because she thought Copeland would be a lead to Austin. And if Austin is the one doing this, that’s even more than anger and bitterness. It’s like…”
“Revenge,” Franny said thoughtfully. “Blame and revenge.”
“Yes. I guess,” Audra said, nodding at Franny before turning her attention back to Rosalie.
“Which means they both have so much anger and bitterness. No curiosity about us, about creating a relationship. And I know you weren’t as gung-ho about reaching out as I was, but you weren’t…
angry at them, you know? Even at breakfast, you weren’t… mad at them. You were mad at Dad.”
“And still am.”
“Sure, but don’t you see what I’m saying? They’ve nursed these bad feelings. It’s not ambivalence. It’s…ire. And maybe they used that for these years since Dad died. Maybe they leaned on anger over grief and that’s all there is to it.”
“What other maybes are there?” Rosalie asked, but not like she didn’t know, like she wanted Audra to say it. While her expression sharpened into that private-investigator look.
Audra shook her head. This was the thought she didn’t like, but it kept poking at her. The hate in Karly’s gaze. The rejection right after the funeral and every moment since. Where did that kind of rejection and vitriol come from? Maybe just grief. But maybe…
Audra really thought it had to be deeper than a secret brought to life. “Rosalie, what if they knew?”
“Knew…about us?”
“Yes. Before Dad died.”
“You think Dad told them about us in an effort to keep us…divided? Apart?”
“I think it might make more sense than them being as blindsided as we were and as…closed off as they’ve always been.”
Rosalie’s expression softened into a hurt frown, not that her sister would ever admit it was hurt.
“That’s worse,” Rosalie said flatly. “I never thought a secret could be worse, but telling one side is worse.”
“It is, and I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize for him, Audra. You’ve done that enough.”
She had. She really had. She didn’t like to admit that taking on all the blame made her feel…safer. Safer than trusting and believing in anyone again. Safe to know you handled everything.
Safe, maybe, but not happy, not fulfilled. Hadn’t Copeland said that? Surviving not living. Not…actually all that strong. Just safe in the most basic of ways.
But she hadn’t felt safe since Copeland had swept in, broken down all her usual walls and boundaries.
Because, like he’d said yesterday, her boundaries sucked.
Audra let out a careful breath. “I’m going to change the subject for a minute.
Because you guys are here, and Copeland isn’t, and…
I just…” She looked from her sister to her cousin, her best friends in the world.
Rosalie’s words about talking it out instead of figuring it out on her own rattling around in her brain.
“I think I’m in love with him. I don’t know how it happened. ”
Franny made a squealing sound and grabbed her hand, but Rosalie just regarded her with a detached cool gaze.
Audra swallowed at the lump in her throat. Tried to settle the terrified trip of her heart. “I’ve been trying really hard not to be,” she whispered. “But he just…won’t shake.”
Rosalie inhaled, exhaled, slowly. Her gaze went to the door that Copeland and Duncan had exited out of this morning.
“Yeah, I guess I know the feeling,” Rosalie muttered.
Audra’s heart fluttered. Rosalie had been a little reticent about starting something with Duncan, and Audra had certainly given her a push in that direction, but that was different. That was…them.
“I don’t think…all that is in our future, but—”
Rosalie turned on her in a quick sharp turn. “Why wouldn’t it be in your future, Audra?”
Audra blinked, surprised at Rosalie’s tone. “I don’t know. Copeland and I are just…too different, probably.” Admitting she’d fallen for him was one thing, thinking that meant a future was something entirely different.
“Yeah, and Duncan and I are two peas in a pod.” She rolled her eyes. “Look, maybe I have my reservations about Copeland, but…if you care about him, and he cares about you, and he won’t be shaken by the expert shaker, why are you already ruling out a future?”
“Aren’t you the one who always told me I should stop believing in fairy tales?”
“And then I lived one, more or less. You were right, Audra, and you should be right for more than just me.”
Audra wanted to believe that, but the bone-deep fear she couldn’t was still lurking there. Still, arguing about it wouldn’t get them anywhere. “Maybe,” she said, managing to scratch out the word. “But, first… First, we have to figure this threat out. Whatever it is.”
“It all centers around your father,” Franny said gently. “And who knew him better than you, Audra?”
Which…actually gave Audra an idea.
COPELAND FOUND DUNCAN to be an easy enough chore partner. They didn’t have to talk to get the work done, and it kept Audra safe and inside. He had a feeling Duncan had things he wanted to say, but he took his sweet time about saying them.
So Copeland maintained the easy silence, focusing on the work, and trying not to laugh at how…coming out and dealing with horses and cows and fences and the bitter cold had become normal.
And very nearly enjoyable.
They worked until it got close to lunchtime, but before Copeland could suggest going in for food, or checking in on Audra because the fact she hadn’t come poking her nose into the chores despite his orders was downright strange, and had to be chalked up to Rosalie and Franny maybe tying her to a chair, Duncan spoke.
“It’s too big of a place to keep secure. I know that from experience.”
There’d been trouble at his parents’ ranch next door last year, and since Copeland had worked part of the case, he knew Duncan had tried to install a lot of security measures, but still, things had slipped through the cracks.
“I agree,” Copeland said, surveying the vast stretches of land around them.
“There was a time I tried to convince her to leave, stay in town with Hart, or something, but now… I think staying is the right choice. As long as she’s never alone.
She’s right that the threat isn’t to her.
I really do believe that. Someone wanted to scare her off.
They didn’t know her, and thought she’d scare easily. ”
“Not those Young girls,” Duncan said with the ghost of a smile. Because even though Duncan had spent over a decade off in California being a professional baseball player, he’d grown up right here. Next door to the Youngs.
Which gave Copeland an idea. “What do you know about Tim Young?”
Duncan gave him a once-over, then shrugged. “Not much. Rosalie’s version of him is a mustache-twirling villain, and he was a worthless SOB, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t have any insight into him that isn’t that.”
Copeland could press Audra on the details, but he kept…pulling back there. Maybe he needed to—
“My parents might,” Duncan said.
“Would they talk to me?”
“If I told them to.” Duncan squinted off into the distance, toward his parents’ place to the east. “But they might be more forthcoming with me.” He glanced at Copeland. “If you tell me what you want to know, I could go over there right now, probably get some answers.”
Copeland considered. He’d rather do the questioning himself, but… Well, it made sense. Duncan was an insider. His parents would trust him to use the information wisely without second-guessing if they should be handing it out. Copeland was still an outsider, so they’d be more…careful.
“I want to know their impressions of him. Anything they know about the second family. I think it’s pretty clear what kind of man he was, but I want to know…an outsider’s point of view. What, if anything, they might have known or suspected about his second family.”
Duncan nodded. “I can get that, if you think it’ll help.”
“Can’t hurt.” No, it couldn’t hurt. “Maybe ask if there’s anyone in town he was friendly with. Someone who might know more about that second family that I could question.”
Duncan nodded. “Sure. I can go right now.”
“Yeah. I’ll finish up out here. And listen…”
“If you’re going to tell me not to tell my wife about this, it’s a no-go. And if you think she won’t tell Audra…well, I think you know Rosalie better than that.”
“He’s a sore spot for Audra. She’s got enough of those.”
Duncan studied him with that same scrutiny he had since he’d arrived on the scene. “Some advice you didn’t ask for. You can’t protect them from their sore spots, but you can be there when they hurt.”
Copeland didn’t have the first clue what to say to that. He supposed it was fair advice all in all. But right now, he had more important things to worry about than if Audra’d…let him be around for any hurts.
“I’ll finish up here. You let me know what your parents say.”
Duncan nodded. He put away his tools, gave Copeland a little salute, then headed off toward the Kirk Ranch on foot.
Copeland watched him go for a few minutes, trying to figure out his next steps.
Rosalie and Franny were with Audra, and he had no doubt Rosalie wasn’t letting her out of her sight.
It gave him the chance to do a full perimeter check.
Someone had to be coming in from somewhere to shoot the house, dig the holes, set fires, et cetera.
It wasn’t coming from the front road. And he’d wanted to poke around the back of the property, but without her. Now was his chance.
Audra wouldn’t appreciate him doing it alone, but he had his gun, and he was a detective. This was his job. He eyed the horse he’d been riding during his time here.
“Well, Bo, let’s see what we can do on our own.” He got the horse saddled and out of the stables, then mounted easily enough. “See? I’m a pro,” he muttered to himself before urging the horse into a trot.
He rode out to the west fence, then trotted along the property line.
He scanned the area around him for entrance and exit points.
He studied the ground for misplaced footprints or tire tracks.
He rode through a warming afternoon and felt the strangest sense of peace being on the back of a horse, in this gorgeous landscape. Almost like he belonged.
Something to think about, and maybe worry over, later. He was coming up on the far back area of the ranch where he’d never been before. The land kind of changed, became overgrown with lots of stumps forming some kind of line. Was it a property boundary? He’d expected a fence, but—
The sudden explosion of a gunshot had the horse rearing, and since Copeland was reaching for his own gun in response to the shot, he didn’t have a tight enough grip on the reins. He tumbled onto the ground with a hard, painful crash while the horse whinnied and galloped away.
Copeland swore, but he didn’t have time to be hurt when he knew that had been a gunshot. Maybe it hadn’t hit him, but it had been meant to he was pretty sure. He struggled to roll over to get his arm free to reach his gun. Pain shot down the arm, stars danced in his vision. Broken, no doubt.
He swore some more, then clamped his teeth together and got the gun in his left hand. He wouldn’t be able to aim worth a darn with his left hand, but maybe it would be enough of a scare tactic to…
“Drop it.”
The female voice was sharp. He heard footsteps approach, looked behind him at the overgrowth where a figure was emerging. Maybe he should have been surprised, but it just made too much sense.
“I wasn’t going to hurt anyone.” Karly Young looked down at him with those cold, flat eyes he’d known were trouble. “You shouldn’t have looked in to me.” She cocked the gun. “Now you’ve only got yourself to blame.”