Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (10 page)

“I need a code to open it. Any idea where Joe might’ve
written down those numbers?”

“Not a single clue.”

“Do you mind if I dig around in the office some more?”

“Help yourself. You already found my dirty secret.”

Claire grimaced. “What’re you going to do about that letter?”

“I don’t know. Mac is looking into it for me.” She shook her
head. “That boy just won’t take ‘No’ for an answer. Reminds me of his mother
when he gets all stubborn like this.”

Claire smiled. Mac’s mother had been Ruby’s sister. She’d
been killed in an accident almost twenty years ago. Shortly after her death,
Mac’s father had remarried and moved to the Florida Keys, leaving Mac on his
own to deal with his grief. Ruby had been the shoulder for him to lean on then.
Now, he wanted to be there for her to lean back.

“Did Mac mention what his plans are?” Claire asked.

“No, but you can ask him in a minute. I see his pickup
headed this way as we speak.”

The sight of Mac’s grin as he parked in front of the store
and climbed out of his pickup spurred Claire’s heart into its usual grand jeté
followed by a series of pirouettes that would make a ballerina green with envy.

“Good evening, ladies.” He looked finger-lickin’ good in his
Levi’s as he climbed the porch steps.

Claire noticed that his eyes were slightly red when he
dropped a kiss on her lips. “Where have you been?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

“If you don’t tell, you won’t be kissing anymore.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Slugger.” He eyed Claire’s
Corona. “Share your beer with me and I’ll spill the gory details.”

She handed him her drink, which he drained in seconds.

“Did you return Jess’s books to the library?” Ruby asked.

Mac nodded. The bottle clunked when he set it on the wood
railing. “After I paid a visit to Chuck Johnson.”

Red patches appeared on Ruby’s cheeks. “Why’d you see him?”

“Just doing some fishing.”

That name was new to Claire. “Who’s Chuck Johnson?”

“The president of Copper Snake Mining Company,” Mac
answered, leaning on the porch rail. He gave Ruby a cocky grin. “He sends his
love.”

“He can kiss my ass.”

Claire chuckled. Ruby had plenty of reasons to want to
hogtie and torture any of those scavengers from the mining company. When times
had been tough, they’d lurked nearby while the bank circled overhead.

“I told Chuck you were considering selling Rattlesnake Ridge
and Socrates Pit.”

Ruby did a double take. “I am?”

“As far as he’s concerned.”

“I hope I’m asking for a higher price this time?”

“We didn’t get that far.”

Claire sat forward. “Why’d you tell him that?”

“I needed a spur-of-the-moment appointment, and his
receptionist was practicing her bouncer routine.”

“He’s still interested, I take it?” Ruby asked.

“Definitely. Rumor around town is that the copper in
Roadrunner Mountain has petered out.”

“You mean Roadrunner pit,” Claire clarified. The mountain
part of that name was forever gone.

“The ore in the pit contains less than a half percent of
copper now, taking almost as much capital per ounce as it’s worth. But copper
prices have been up lately, and your mines are ore-rich in comparison. They
could keep the company in the black for another decade.”

Claire’s shoulders tightened. “But you aren’t really
thinking Ruby should sell, are you?”

Mac and she had had this argument plenty of times last spring.
She didn’t relish taking up her sword again.

“Hell, no.” He winked at Claire. “Don’t start rattling your
tail again, Slugger. I haven’t healed from your previous bites.” He turned to
Ruby. “I told him your lawyer would be in touch.”

“Who’s my lawyer?”

“Leo M. Scott, Attorney at Law.”

“The guy in the letter.” Claire smiled as she caught on to
Mac’s game. “Oh, you naughty boy.” This new risky side of Mac made her want to
ogle him in private, preferably sans clothing.

“Claire, quit looking at me like that in front of my aunt.”

She dragged her eyes away from his long legs and focused on
her own dusty toes. “Did this Chuck guy react to Leo’s name?” she asked.

“Not even a little.”

“Does that let them off the hook?” Ruby asked.

Claire looked up to catch Mac staring at her tool belt
draped over the arm of her chair.

“From the looks of it.” He answered Ruby, making eye contact
with Claire. The hunger in his gaze made the back of her knees sweaty. They
definitely needed some alone time.

“Then who’s behind it?” Claire asked.

“I’m still working on that. I hit the library next,
intending to dig up details on the history of the claim, but left empty-handed.”

“I thought the Yuccaville Library led the state in mining
resources,” Claire said. “Thanks to that huge grant from the Copper Snake.”

“It does. But every single piece of information about the
claim has been stolen from the shelves according to the librarian.”

“Stolen?” Claire sat forward.

Mac nodded. “I figured you’d pounce on that.”

Thumbing her nose at Mac, Claire turned to Ruby. “I bet your
burglar and the library thief are one and the same.”

“You think so, darlin’?”

“Not necessarily, Claire.” Mac crossed his arms. “Ruby’s
burglar could’ve been a meth addict searching for easy money. You’re adding one
and one and coming up with three.”

“Come on, Mac.” Claire slid up next to him, leaning back on
the rail. “You know I’m onto something. If I can find the PIN to that safe, I
bet I’ll have the proof Ruby needs.”

Ruby cleared her throat.

“What PIN to what safe?” Mac frowned. “Jesus, Claire. You
haven’t broken into somebody’s house again, have you?”

“No! Not yet, anyway.”

“Claire, the sheriff said—”

Ruby cleared her throat again.

Claire and Mac looked at Ruby, who glanced behind them.
Claire followed Ruby’s gaze and groaned. Manny and Chester were eavesdropping from
the foot of the porch steps. She’d been so engrossed in arguing with Mac she
hadn’t heard them walk up.

“What safe are you talking about, querida?” Manny asked.

“Proof for what?” Chester chimed in.

An hour and another Corona later, Claire sat slumped at the
card table in Ruby’s rec room, staring at the cards Chester had just dealt her—nines,
tens, and the Queen of hearts. When it came to all-time shittiest Bid Euchre
hand, hers earned the first runner-up sash.

She laid her cards face-down on the table.

Wispy contrails of cigar smoke drifted along the ceiling,
swirling in the cool air blasting from the air conditioner, softening the
flickering glare from the florescent lights.

Popping the lid off her third bottle of Corona, she squeezed
a lemon wedge into it. She tore the last bit of lemon pulp from the rind with
her teeth and glanced over her shoulder at the curtained doorway leading to the
store.

The bell over the front door had jingled moments ago, and
Ruby had gone to see if Deborah, Gramps, and Kate were back from the police
station. Claire chuckled. She couldn’t wait to hear Kate’s account of her trip
to Yuccaville’s version of Alcatraz.

Chester tapped his fingers on the table. “It’s your bid,
Giggles Magoo. Can we finish this game before I’m worm food?”

Picking her cards back up, she said, “It’s called patience,
Mr. Antsy Pants.” Chester had been growing pissier with each hand that she and
Mac won. “Maybe you’ve read about it in the latest issue of Geezer’s Digest or
Popular Geriatrics.”

Chester puffed on his cigar. “Bid, wiseass, or I’ll tell
Harley all about that new scratch on Mabel’s front bumper.”

“Okay, no need to play dirty.” Trust Chester to be there to
catch her stealing Mabel to run out for a pack of cigarettes. “Three.”

“Four.” Manny bid next, his smile wide, like he’d jammed a
banana in his mouth sideways. He obviously had a hot date after the game,
because he smelled as if he’d been marinated in Old Spice.

“Pass,” Mac said, watching Claire from where he sat across
the table. His hazel eyes traveled down the front of her “Mister Magoo for
President” T-shirt, lingering.

Claire fanned herself with her cards. When he stared at her
that way, she got all steamy inside and out. She ran her bare foot up his inner
calf, her toes rubbing over the inseam of his jeans.

They’d agreed to disagree about the burglar for the moment,
calling a truce so that they could pair up for tonight’s segment of the Euchre
tournament that Chester and Manny had organized as a pre-wedding gift to
Gramps. Gramps had lived and breathed Bid Euchre until Ruby had come along. Now
he just enjoyed a game any chance he got, and lately that had been every night.

Chester knocked on the table, indicating that he passed,
too. He looked at Manny. “What’s trump, partner?”

“Spades.” Manny laid down the Ace of spades.

Claire glanced at the curtain again.

“All right, Señorita.” Manny tugged on Claire’s sleeve. “Now
that Ruby is out of earshot, tell us whose house you’re going to break into.”

“I’m not planning to break into anyone’s place.” Claire
turned back from the curtain to find three sets of eyes boring into her. The
theme from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly whistled in her head.

Her foldout chair creaked as she shifted on the hard metal
seat. “At least not yet.”

Mac groaned deep in his throat and shook his head. “You’re
going to wind up in jail, just like your sister.” He tossed the ten of spades
onto Manny’s card.

Snickering, Chester threw the Queen of spades onto Mac’s
ten. “Katie’s been telling sugar-coated tall tales since she was no bigger than
a cricket.” He spoke around his cigar. “I’m surprised I haven’t seen her
profile yet on some of those women in prison websites I poke around on.”

Claire grimaced at Chester. “You’ve been spending too much
time on the Internet again.” She dropped the nine of hearts onto the pile of
cards, grabbed her beer, and frowned at Mac. “You’re being overly cautious.”

“And you’re running around half-cocked again.” Mac shot back
at her, his grin taking the sting out of his words.

“Speaking of half-cocked.” Chester laid his cigar in the
ashtray. He wiggled his eyebrows at Manny. “How’d your skinny dipping date with
lovely Miss Lilly go this morning? Did you pickle your hide or hide your
pickle?”

Claire choked on the mouthful of beer she’d been about to
swallow. Beer burned the inside of her nose.

Laughing, Manny patted her on the back. “Both.”

Mac raised his cards, hiding his face.

Between coughs, Claire said, “Haven’t you two ever heard of
the saying, ‘gentlemen don’t kiss and tell’?”

“We’re too old to keep secrets.” Manny raked in the cards
from the center of the table and threw out the Ace of clubs to start the next
round.

Nodding, Chester added, “And I don’t have time to waste
running the bases anymore. I need to know from the get-go if Lilly’s version of
the backseat boogie ends with the horizontal bop. Viagra doesn’t come with a ‘pause’
button, ya know.”

“So you’ve mentioned before,” Mac said and dropped the Jack
of clubs, second only to the Jack of spades in trump suit rank, on top of Manny’s
Ace.

“Hey, that’s trump.” Chester slapped his King of clubs on
the pile.

“I know my left bower from my right when it comes to Euchre.”
Mac’s poker face gave away nothing.

Claire sat forward, wondering if Mac had something up his
sleeve besides a nice bicep. She threw her nine of clubs on the table and
grinned at Manny as Mac scooped up the cards and led the next round with the
Ace of diamonds.

“Earlier on the porch, you two mentioned something about
Ruby and finding some proof,” Manny said as Chester played the Jack of
diamonds. “Is Ruby in some kind of trouble again?”

Claire’s gut told her to lie and she did so without
hesitation. “No.”

If either Chester or Manny found out about that letter from
the lawyer, they’d blab to Gramps, who would burn needless calories cussing and
swearing, and then Claire’s mom would use her bionic ears to eavesdrop—and then
all hell would break loose.

Laying her ten of diamonds on the stack, Claire floundered
in the pool of alcohol saturating her synapses and tried to think of a
believable tale she could float past these two old sharks. “Mac and I were just
…” she trailed off, looking to Mac for help.

“I was just warning Claire not to go spelunking in Ruby’s
mines on her own.”

“Then what was the proof you were referring to?” Chester’s
tone said he wasn’t buying Mac’s story.

“Proof that the mines are dangerous.”

“You two have to be the worst liars this side of the Rio
Grande.” Manny tossed the King of diamonds on Claire’s ten.

Chuckling, Mac collected the cards from the center of the
table. He led the next round with the lowest trump card, the nine of spades,
obviously fishing for trump.

Claire gulped some beer to keep from grinning broadly across
the table. Judging from the lines wrinkling Manny’s forehead, things weren’t
going as he’d planned this hand.

“What about a PIN for a safe?” Chester asked. “Whose safe?”

These boys did not want to give up this bone.

“Ruby’s safe.” Claire tossed out her nine of diamonds.

Come first thing tomorrow morning, she was going to pay that
safe another visit and start punching in some numbers.

Manny slammed down the Jack of spades, the leading trump
card, and scraped the cards over to his win pile. He wore a wary frown as he
led the next round with the Ace of hearts. “If it’s Ruby’s safe, why doesn’t
she know her own code?”

“She forgot it.” Mac remained Fonzie-like cool. “You know
how some women get when there are wedding bells ringing.” He threw down the
King of spades, the last trump card floating around, and smiled wide.