Read Forbidden Entry Online

Authors: Sylvia Nobel

Tags: #Mystery, #Suspense, #Arizona, #Sylvia, #Nobel, #Nite, #Owl, #Southwest, #desert, #Reporter, #Forbidden, #Entry, #Deadly, #Sanctuary, #Horse, #Ranch, #Rancher, #Kendall O'Dell, #Teens, #Twens, #Cactus, #Detective

Forbidden Entry (16 page)

BOOK: Forbidden Entry
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As we basked in the toasty sunshine and savored the soft breeze whispering through the nearby Piñon pines, my dad began to nod off and soon my eyelids felt as if they each weighed a thousand pounds. I fought hard to keep them open but lost the battle. The next thing I knew a thunderous roar and the ground vibrating beneath my feet jolted me awake. Blinking in confusion, I sat bolt upright and exchanged a startled look with my dad, who'd apparently been sleeping as well. I checked the time. Holy cow! I'd slept for thirty minutes! Together we surveyed the noisy parade of motorcyclists rolling along the street, revving their engines for maximum effect. Most rode Harleys, some wore helmets, some not, and while about half rode solo, the rest were couples. Because this was my third trip to Jerome, I knew that the bar at the end of the street not far from where Sean lay snoozing in the Jeep, was a favorite destination for bikers. No doubt the noise would wake him as well. I sent him a text telling him where we were and to come join us.

Another smaller group of riders rumbled into town and I couldn't help but notice my dad's wistful expression. “Perfect day for a ride,” he remarked as they rode by.

“Is that on your bucket list?” I joked, watching the rough-looking leather-clad group, women included, glide by.

“If I was Sean's age...” his voice trailed off as he turned his bright green eyes on me. “And speaking of Sean, I think your brother is right.”

“About what?”

“About you.”

I stared at him, mystified. “What are you saying?”

“Come on! You're a news junkie just like me. I can read you like a book. Why aren't you jumping on this story?“

My mouth fell open. “Dad! How can I?”

“How can you not?” he countered. “Look here, Pumpkin, don't pass up this opportunity because of us. Your mother and I are big people and we're perfectly capable of renting a car, reading a map or following GPS directions to find the locations you've arranged for us to see. We'll figure it out and be back together at the end of the week. You've already visited all these places, right?”

“Well, yes, but…but that's not the point…”

“It's exactly the point,” he responded, impatiently waving away my objection. “You need to get your priorities straight. Right now, nobody knows more about this story than you do. You made a promise to your friend and it's yours to break.”

Before I could formulate a suitable response, my phone's robust Latin tune sounded from my pocket. I fished it out, noting Tugg's home number on the screen. “Excuse me for a second, Dad. Hello?”

“Kendall?”

I paused, recognizing Mary's voice. Why would she be calling me? “Yes?”

“I'm sorry to bother you, but Mort told me about Walter being in the hospital and…well…” she lowered her voice. “He'll be really mad if he knows I'm calling you, but I'm worried about him trying to handle everything at the paper next week with all three of you gone and Louise out of town…”

“I'm not happy about it either, Mary, but it's only for a couple of days and…”

“He shouldn't be under that kind of pressure for even one day.”

Gripped with helpless agitation, I replied, “Well, Mary, I don't know what to tell you…”

She cut in brusquely, “Did Mort tell you his doctor put him on blood pressure medication last week?” Her voice sounded a tad shrill.

Feeling completely deflated, I sighed, “No, he didn't.”

CHAPTER

14

“Ah-hah!” she crowed in my ear. “I didn't think so. Now listen, Tugg's doctor was adamant that he avoid stress…”

“Gaawd damn it, Mary!” Tugg's angry voice boomed from the background. “Who are you talking to?”

“It's Kendall…”

“Hell's bells, woman! I told you not to tell anybody!”

“You stubborn old donkey! Do you want to die of a stroke?” came her high-pitched retort. A clunking sound and then Tugg came on the line. “Don't pay any attention to her, she's exaggerating. I'm perfectly fine. You go ahead with your trip.”

My spirits plummeted lower. I'd thought the news about Walter was bad, but this was the proverbial icing on the cake. How could everything I'd planned to go so right be going so wrong? Again, my intuitive dad observed my crestfallen expression and frowned his concern. “What's wrong?”

“Just a second,” I answered him before saying to Tugg, “I have to agree with Mary on this one. We need to talk about our options…'

“No, we don't. I can handle it.”

“Tugg…”

“Send me a postcard. I'm hanging up now.”

And he did. He was a stubborn old donkey.

“Yoo-hoo! Kendall! Can you come here for a minute?” I turned to see my mother signaling me from the doorway of an art gallery. “I need your opinion on something!”

Out of control. My life was spiraling out of control and it was all I could do to maintain the tumultuous surge of emotions engulfing me. My cheeks burning, I wondered if perhaps I could use some blood pressure meds myself. I stood and inhaled a deep breath to calm my erratic heartbeat. Following a measured exhale, I forced a serene smile and stated to my dad, “I'll be back in a few minutes.”

“Hold on. What's going on with Tugg?”

“His doctor put him on blood pressure meds and he's supposed to avoid stress, which I don't see as being even remotely possible with me out of town for ten days.” I didn't realize until that second how tightly my jaw was clenched.

My dad's face softened. “I'm sorry, kiddo. Sometimes the winds of fate turn against us. I'm sure you've heard that old saying, ‘Men plan, God laughs,' right?”

“No, but it's certainly appropriate for my situation.”

“Keeeennnnndaaaaaallllll,” shouted my mother, “are you coming or not?”

I glanced over, noting her agitated expression, yelled back “Yes!” and to my dad, “Be right back.”

Wrestling with the magnitude of problems confronting me, it took extensive willpower for me to keep it together and focus on what seemed now to be the innocuous determination as to which of the two Arizona landscape paintings my mother should buy—really, really low on my priority list. But I gave her my considered opinion and of course, she chose the other one. It was a real effort to concentrate as she chattered on about the Native American art and jewelry. She finally got around to talking to me about Ruth's unconscionable behavior at the barbeque and I shared with her Tally's vow to banish his mother from our engagement party if she didn't clean up her act. It was uplifting to see the glimmer of approval in my mother's eyes.

Over an hour had elapsed before we returned to the bench where my father sat talking in an animated tone to someone on his cell phone. When he looked up and saw me approaching, he hastily ended his conversation. His self-satisfied expression mystified me. Strange. Who had he been talking with? Before I could ask him, my phone's text alert sounded. It was from Sean and read: @ THE BAR HAVING A COLD ONE. I noted the time. If we were to make it back to Castle Valley for dinner, we needed to get on the road soon.

The late afternoon sun cast long checkered shadows across the street and there was a distinct chill in the air by the time we returned to the Jeep and piled my mom's painting and other purchases into the back. While she munched on a protein bar and my dad admired the row of Harley Davidson motorcycles backed into parking spaces in front of the bar, I went to find Sean. I canvassed the interior of the noisy bar without success and felt my chest tightening with irritation. Please, not again! I stepped out the side door and looked up and down the street. No sign of him. Where was the brat this time? Beyond frustrated, I dug out my phone and was in the process of messaging him when I heard the sound of masculine voices from somewhere at the end of the short, narrow side street. I didn't pay too much attention to it until I heard a familiar laugh. I cocked my head to one side, listening closely. Sounded like Sean. More hoots of laughter. Yep. Definitely him. Now super curious, I pocketed my phone and walked downhill, avoiding deep cracks where the crumbling sidewalk had fallen away. A partially collapsed house stood to my left and through a gaping hole in the wall, I had a clear view of the vast Verde Valley below. I rounded the corner of an abandoned building and stopped short, shock rooting me in place. There was Sean, straddling a black Harley, immersed in conversation with the Hinkle brothers. What the hell? I was too far away to hear what they were saying, but I immediately realized that their rendezvous could not possibly be coincidence. Had these plans been hatched at the desert party last night or since then? What for? And why hook up here?

When I heard the distinctive clatter of another Harley approaching from behind, I ducked into a shadowy doorway just as a big-bellied man with a salt and pepper beard and ponytail glided past. He also wore the signature Harley attire—leather, ultra-dark sunglasses and a bandana. I peeked around the corner and watched with interest as the brothers crossed to meet the rider on the opposite side of the dead-end street from Sean. They greeted the newcomer with one of those macho handclasps and then Danny, the one without the spike through his ear, handed the guy something, which he pocketed in his jacket. It was reminiscent of the scene I'd witnessed in the parking lot of the Rattlesnake Saloon last night. My intuition told me that whatever was going on here could not be good. The fact that Sean had chosen to continue involvement with these two characters, even after I'd warned him, really frosted me. While the Hinkles had their backs turned towards me, I sprinted towards Sean, who seemed unruffled by my sudden appearance. One look at his goofy smile and vacant glassy eyes revealed the reason why. “Are you high on something again?” I demanded just barely above a whisper.

Lips pinched together in a cagey smile, he giggled, “Maybe a little.”

“Are you friggin' kidding me?” I seethed through clenched teeth, “You couldn't manage to stay sober for one day?”

“I only had a few hits for...for…” he frowned, staring blankly for a few seconds while he struggled to find the words, “medicinal purposes,” he concluded with an expression of sublime accomplishment.

I fisted hands on my hips. “Medicinal purposes?”

Another mellow grin. “Yeah. I was carsick and now I feel a whole lot better.”

“Uh-huh. Where'd you get the weed? At the bar?” I asked, thumbing over my shoulder.

“From Daryl.”

I nodded. “Of course you did.”

“Don't be mad. It's totally legal. He's got a medical marijuana card, so he just shared a little bit with me.”

“Is that a fact?” I glanced over at the strapping bull of a guy. “He doesn't appear to have any health issues.”

“Yeah, he does. Umm…he says…yeah, ah, he's got chronic pain from getting thrown off his horse.”

“Sure he does.” I struggled to keep my temper at bay. “Sean, what are you doing hanging around with those two losers again anyway? Are you too stoned to remember what I told you about them?”

First, he looked perplexed, then taken aback for a second before stating earnestly, “They're my friends, Kenny. Why are you always so…so…touchy and negative about everything?”

A combination of hopeless, helpless anger consumed me. I stood there holding my breath, fighting back the desire to throttle him for his stupidity, when I heard a sarcastic voice behind me. “Well, look who's here. Dude! Is that the wicked bitch of the West stalking you again?” Raucous laughter.

I turned slowly and glared at the Hinkle twins' smirking faces and beady, steely-blue eyes. The air of smarminess surrounding these two lowlifes made my skin crawl and the childish remark only served to compound my escalating dislike. “I don't know who you think you are, calling me a bitch, but that's the second time and I'd strongly advise that it be the last. Got it?”

“Ooooohhhh! I'm so scared,” Daryl jeered, stretching his stocking cap down over his ears.

Laughing gruffly, Danny punched his brother in the shoulder, “Guess she told your sorry ass off, didn't she?”

Tiring of their adolescent game, I returned my attention to Sean. “It's getting late. We have to go now.”

I could see his mouth moving, but couldn't hear his answer because at that moment, the ponytailed guy revved up his Harley and roared up the street out of sight. In the ensuing silence, and obviously still spoiling for a fight, Daryl piped up again. “Why don't you butt out of your brother's business? We were just having a nice friendly visit and here you go again, barging in and ruining everybody's fun. Why don't you leave him alone? You're not his mommy.”

It took herculean effort to suppress a caustic comeback. Squaring my shoulders, I scowled at him. “I don't remember asking for your opinion.”

“Yeah,” Danny concurred, his tone mocking, “She didn't ask for your opinion, you dumb shit.”

I turned back to Sean. “We're leaving right now.”

He stared at me inanely, then mumbled, “But…but, I um…can't really go with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because Danny promised me a ride on this Harley and I wanna go.”

He sounded like a petulant little kid. Thoroughly disheartened, I groused, “Are you crazy? You're not going to operate this thing in your condition on that winding road, or any road for that matter!”

“Chill, lady,” Danny interjected sternly. “I'm cool. Just had one beer. I'll give him a ride back to Castle Valley.”

To his credit, at least he didn't call me a bitch again. Yet. “I don't know what you guys are up to, but whatever it is, I don't want my brother involved in it.”

Danny drew back, appearing offended. “What's wrong with trying to show him a good time while he's here?”

“Come on, Kenny,” Sean whined. “He's right. I'm not a kid. You can't tell me what to do. Quit trying to deprive me of my great Arizona adventure.”

I paused a few seconds to gauge the situation. It was apparent that he wasn't as addlebrained as last night, so short of dragging him off the Harley, there didn't seem to be much I could do. He was beyond reasoning with. And, unfortunately, he was right. He wasn't a kid. I was not responsible for his behavior and couldn't force him to come with me. I turned to meet Danny's penetrating gaze. His hooded eyes looked clear. Sinister, but clear. And sober. “Six o'clock at the Crab Shack.” I turned on heel and hiked up the street, my earlier elation diminished. When I reached the corner, I cast one last glance over my shoulder in time to see Daryl hand something to Sean, which he popped in his mouth. Profoundly troubled by my brother's reckless behavior, I continued up the hill, more aware than ever that I was up against a powerful adversary. Addiction.

BOOK: Forbidden Entry
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