Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
“ W ho could it be?” Lily asked.
Ethan had to look away from those eyes to process her question, much less come up with an answer. In fact, he had to focus so hard, he remembered that brown car.
“I keep seeing someone around,” he said. “Well, twice now. Parked on the side of the road, like a hundred yards north.”
“Old brown Buick.” Lily replied. Then she looked around as if to be sure no one else was within earshot. “Willow says there was brown paint on Angus Silver’s Cadillac. As if it had been hit by another vehicle. A brown one.”
He lowered his head. “It was parked there that day.” He checked to be sure the contractor was still far enough away and lowered his voice to a whisper. “It was facing this way when the Caddy left here. It turned around to take the same path, like you’d do if you were following it.”
“Holy…” Lily breathed.
“Silver’s driver denied any other car was involved, though. Said the paint was from a fender-bender a few days ago.”
“Yeah, that’s what Willow told me, only when she wanted to question the driver again, he’d vanished. Nobody knows where.”
“Huh,” Ethan said. “So you’ve seen the brown car too, then?”
She nodded.
“Close enough to get a look at the driver?”
“Momentarily, as I passed. I wish I could freeze-frame it, because there was something familiar about his face, even though I could hardly see any of it. It felt like that was the point.”
“What parts could you see?” he asked.
“Dirty blond beard, long and untrimmed. Sunglasses. He was wearing a bandana but I got the impression of long hair pulled behind his head. Kind of a chiseled face, what you could see of it.”
“Chiseled? You mean as in handsome male model?”
“As in grizzled gunfighter.”
“Older?” he asked.
“No, but hard. Like he’s been through some things, you know?”
“Like this ain’t his first rodeo,” he muttered. Then he looked down at her. “Got all that just from a glimpse as he drove by, did’ja?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Huh.” He tilted his head. “You think it’s the same guy who’s been sleepin’ in the shed?”
“Unless we have two odd strangers hanging around,” Lily said. “I think we need to talk to him. If we can catch up with him.”
“He takes off as soon as he’s seen,” Ethan replied. “The two times I’ve spotted him, anyway. And I could’ve…nah, it’s stupid. I’m reachin’.”
“No, go on. Say it. You could’ve what?”
Ethan sighed. “I could’ve sworn someone was watchin’ that conversation I had with Silver. I assumed it was one of the cousins and then forgot all about it, but it seemed like someone was here.”
“Where?”
He turned and nodded toward the cantina. “Right there, front corner.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Maybe we should watch the shed overnight.”
He met her eyes and imagined he could see every single thought running through them. So, big guy, what do you say we spend the night together, in the dark, all alone, just the two of us? Let’s see how this hands-off bull goes then.
“Okay,” he croaked.
“So how is it?” Burdick called.
Ethan had forgotten to look. He turned his attention back to the shed. It was in great shape. The lumber still smelled new. Cedar, he thought. He turned around and said, “We’ll move it.”
“Let me know where you want it and I can pour you a slab,” Burdick said. “Take a couple of hours. You buy the concrete and I’ll do it for no extra charge, assuming you hire me for the addition.”
“That’s a generous offer,” Ethan said.
“Well, this would be a notch in my belt, and I don’t mind sayin’ so. A honky-tonk, owned by a country star, right here in Mad Bull’s Bend. You’re fixin’ to put this town on the map.”
“I don’t know about that,” Ethan began
“I don’t see how it can miss. And I’m hopin’ you might let me leave a little sign someplace. ‘A Samwell Burdick Project.’” He spread his hand apart as he said it.
“Sign? Heck, I’ll put up a plaque, you do a good job.” Ethan said, “So, like I said, I want the addition to be the dance floor, with a stage, backstage area with a dressin’ room.”
“With a flagstone patio out front, running the whole length of the place,” Lily said, “where the parking lot is now.”
Burdick rubbed his chin. He had a yellow legal pad he was scribbling on. He said, “You know you could have that whole front wall all glass. It could slide open. We could continue the floor from inside to outside.
“That would be…” Lily began, then glanced at Ethan.
“Amazin’,” he said, finishing her sentence.
Lily flashed him a message with her eyes. He read it as something like, This guy gets us. He sees our vision .
“We could do the same in the old section,” Burdick said, looking at the wall they were going to demolish. “So dinin’ tables too, could continue outside. Maybe…put in a patio bar separatin’ the outdoor-dinin’ side from the outdoor-dancin’ side.”
“That’s a great idea. Taco bar or beverage bar?” Ethan asked, looking at Lily.
“Why not both?” She crossed the lawn with the men on her heels, until she was facing the parking lot in front of the building. “And there has to be an open-flame aspect to it, I think. Wouldn’t that be cool?” she said.
“I know a guy,” Burdick said. “Wait, wait, wait.” He scrolled his cell phone while Ethan and Lily exchanged a smile. She arched her eyebrows and hitched her chin toward Burdick, as if to say, This guy, right? He acknowledged with a slow blink that served as a nod.
Then Burdick said, “Here it is. Check this out. This guy’s local, Julio Gomez, a real artist, but doesn’t charge like one. He’s a plumber, and this is his side gig.” He turned his phone around.
Ethan bent lower to look at a video of a water-bubbling fountain surrounded by fire.
“Of course, that’s a freestandin’ feature,” Burdick said. “He does tabletop versions, though. Just fire, just water, or both. Every one’s unique. He can size it for the space. And you have plenty of room.”
Ethan could tell Lily wanted him to say yes. He said, “Let’s get some numbers from the guy first,” because it seemed like what a reasonable entrepreneur would say. What he wanted to say was, “Anything that makes Lily’s eyes light up like that is a go.” But he couldn’t really say that out loud.
She looked disappointed while nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I suppose we should see how big a dent it would put in our budget.”
They didn’t actually have a budget yet. He had a round figure in mind and intended to borrow it from the bank.
But he thought it might be a good idea to get some of the biggest numbers in hand before he applied for the loan.
If the honky-tonk did well, it would pay the loan back itself.
But if it failed, he’d still have to pay it back.
And that was no small deal, even for a Brand with a hit song.
They gave the plumbers and electricians the specs and sent them on their way to crunch numbers and write estimates.
But they spent the rest of the morning with Samwell Burdick, because they both knew he was the man for the job.
They discussed the addition, the dance floor, the stage, the parking lot in back, the improvements Hyram had mentioned for the kitchen, and the bathroom for the second floor.
Several hours later, Burdick left with a paperback’s worth of notes and promised to have an estimate and a timeline for them within a day.
Then Ethan was alone with Lily.
“We worked right through lunch,” she said. “And the kitchen’s empty. And there’s not a decent taco for at least…?”
“A mile,” he said.
“No, I said a decent taco.”
“Fifteen miles,” he corrected.
“See what I’m saying?” Lily smiled and went to the bar top, where she’d left her keys. “I’d keep the barstools. They’re perfect as they are, if a little worn. We can have them re-covered to match the new look. Save us a bundle.”
She took her keys and headed to the entrance, and he followed, wondering what she was up to.
Outside, it was warm and dusty—the kind of day when breathing through your mouth would leave dust on your tongue.
His boots tapped the concrete parking lot, and he watched as she thumbed a button and opened the trunk.
“Would you put that savings toward the private bathroom upstairs, or the fire-and-water feature? If we had to choose,” he asked.
She pulled a white picnic cooler from inside and then slammed the trunk.
“If it were up to me? Fire-and-water feature first. It’s gonna be one of the things we’re known for.
That and you.” She was staring at his chest, not his face, when she got stuck.
Then she met his eyes, her cheeks went pink and she lowered them again.
“You and the acts you bring in, I mean.”
“I hope those are all we’re known for. But this whole thing with Silver’s threats, and then his death and this brown car squatter, whoever he is?—”
“I know. It’s like, will this be the end of it, or is there a bigger bad guy behind this one?”
“There’s always a bigger bad guy.” He took the cooler from her as she passed him, because he hadn’t been raised in a cave, then followed her back inside. The coolness hit him. “Must be the adobe, keeps it so cool in here,” he said. “I’ll tell Burdick we want to keep that.”
“He’s something, isn’t he?” she said, as Ethan put the cooler on the bar and opened the lid. He took partially melted ice bags off the top and pulled out a gigantic bowl with a plastic lid, two smaller bowls, and a plethora of silverware.
“I can’t believe you left food in your trunk.”
“I parked in the shade, and it was very well-iced. Feel. Still cold.”
She held out the bowl, and he touched it, then pried off the lid.
The bowl had compartments. One was full of small, round, cooked potatoes.
Another, what looked like Spanish rice, and another had a mix of broccoli, cauliflower, and carrots, drizzled in something dark brown.
The fourth compartment had fat slices of bread.
“Have you ever had salt potatoes?”
“Never,” he said.
She nodded. “It’s a New York thing.” She slid a bowl in his direction.