Like Arrows (Cedar Tree #6) (2 page)

"Get the fuck out!" he yells at me. At
me
.

"I...what..." I can't even form a coherent sentence, too shocked for words. A fleeting thought shoots through my head that this is what I get when I indulge in flights of fancy. Mere seconds pass, yet I feel like I've stood rooted in the spot, watching this sickening display for hours.

"Fucking hell!" he spits, finally stilling his bucking hips, pulling away and standing up from the couch. I can't quite compute how it is that he's angry when I should be the one yelling at him. The words are stuck in my throat, right behind the remainder of my lunch, so the only thing that comes out is, "but it's my birthday." Ridiculous.

Stalking toward me with his cock still erect and glistening with some other woman's wetness, he holds out his hand, totally unashamed. "Give me my key," he demands, looking at me with distaste plain on his face. "Should've remembered I gave that to you," he mumbles. Then his eyes slide down my body and eventually hit the crushed cake box lying at my feet before they snap back to mine. "Cake, Kim? You wanna pack on more pounds? Christ, I was barely able to get it up for you to begin with. You were a means to an end, and only that."

I can feel the insult like a punch in my gut, and bend over from the impact. That does not stop him from driving his message home. "It was always her I was after from the very beginning. Banging you finally got her attention."

Finally, my eyes move over to the couch where a very naked Mia is looking at me with pity and maybe a hint of guilt in her eyes. This is where I finally lose control and I spew up all over my shoes, the crushed cake box and Peter's naked body. Then I run, finally, leaving the sounds of Peter's angry cursing behind me.

M
al

"I'll have a chicken salad and a glass of water, please."

Her voice is as timid as her appearance. Like a little mouse, she slipped in behind me and sat down at the furthest booth. Shocked, I tried my best not to display any reaction to her showing up here. I never expected to have one of the people I've been keeping an eye on show up at Arlene's Diner. Sure, it's popular around these parts, but given that I live in the apartment above and take most my meals here, it feels like more than a coincidence. This is why I'm keeping my back turned and my ears perked.

Arlene tags her the minute she comes out of the kitchen and is taking her order. Fucking chicken salad and water, who lives on that? I've had reason to keep her in my sights since taking on this assignment, and the woman rarely eats more than that from what I've seen. Seems to feel comfortable in the real estate office she works in, but the moment she steps out, she seems to want to disappear in the shadows. Head always low, never making eye contact and wrapping herself up in that godawful blanket thing—some kind of poncho.

It's her boss I'm really keeping track of. Gus got a call from the Ute Reservation a few weeks ago. The council had concerns about two farms backing onto reservation lands. The chief mentioned that both had sold within a month of the other through Martin Vedica, the little mouse's boss, and they had moved out within days. A third farm, owned by an older couple, was being targeted as well. The couple, Ezhno and Tiva Walker, had moved off the reservation some thirty years earlier to raise their family. They didn't go far, since their property backs right onto McElmo Creek near Finley Canyon, which is on reservation lands. In fact, it is wedged between reservation boundaries and the southern border of Canyons of the Ancients National Park.

Gus asked me to keep an eye out and I have, but with Vedica out of town since yesterday, I'd been using the time to do some online digging. So far, I have come up with little to nothing.

Keeping my eye on the stainless steel backsplash behind the counter, I can see in the reflection that her face is turned my way. It isn't busy in the diner right now, being lunchtime, but there are still a few booths occupied. Still I know they are her eyes burning in my back, and I wonder if she could possibly have spotted me before.

Kimeo Lowe. A rather exotic name for the pretty, but unassuming little thing hidden under layers of dark clothing. Soft voice, soft brown eyes, and from what I've been able to distinguish, a soft rounded body. Hardly the description for anyone associated with some kind of nefarious real estate deal, but you never know. Looks can be deceiving.

"Your burger," Arlene says, plopping a plate loaded with sweet potato fries and Seb's juicy signature burger on the counter in front of me. Seb is married to Arlene and is the cook and part owner of the diner. They're also my landlords.

"Thanks." I lift my eyes to smile at her.

I don't hesitate to dig in, starving, which pretty much is a constant state for me. Wicked fast metabolism or something, because I've always been able to eat whatever I want and none of it seems to stick. A healthy appetite. Maybe that's why seeing the woman listlessly pick at a bowl of salad just seems wrong to me. My eyes are back on her reflection where I can see her playing with her food, but not putting much of it in her mouth. She seems a little skittish, and when the door to the diner opens, her head whips around to see who's entered. I resist the urge to turn my head and keep my focus trained on her.

"Hey stranger, how's it going?" The familiar voice catches my attention. Kendra, the pretty physical therapist who joined Doc Waters the end of last year in the new clinic, is smiling at me. I smile back easily. She's a nice woman and since coming to town has fitted into our circle of friends easily. At some point I thought there might be something there, and we'd actually gone out a couple of times. After a movie in Cortez on our third date, I took our earlier friendly kisses a step further when I dropped her off. That kiss fell flat. Where I thought there might have been sparks before, they fizzled out the moment my mouth hit hers. No heat, and fucking awkward as hell. Almost felt like kissing your sister. The kiss ended very quickly and Kendra could barely keep a straight face. We both burst out laughing, and the memory puts a smile on my face.

"Hey yourself. You in for lunch?"

"Just picking something up for Naomi and me. We've got solid appointments well into the evening. Ugh."

Doctor Naomi Waters is the new town doctor and also the wife of the former sheriff, now my colleague, Joe Morris. He and I are the latest additions to GFI, an investigations and security company owned and run by Gus Flemming.

"You guys have really hit the ground running with the clinic, haven't you?" Arlene pipes up, having heard Kendra's comment.

"Sure have. Makes you wonder where the population of Cedar Tree went before Naomi decided to open up shop here," Kendra responds.

"Most of us would go to Cortez, but it's mighty convenient having you around the corner." Arlene smiles. "What can I get you?"

While Kendra places her order, I suddenly remember the focus of my earlier attention and lift my eyes to the backsplash. Nothing, the table she was sitting at is empty. I turn on my stool to look to the parking lot where the little blue Honda I've seen her drive was parked. My eyes hit two soft brown ones staring at me through the diner window, before they turn away and I see her head duck down as she slips into her car. I'm up and off my stool by the time she backs out of the parking spot and have my eyes peeled when I see her turning west.

"Be back. Add it to my tab," I tell Arlene as I pass by her followed by a "Later, Kendra." With a final chin lift to Seb I'm through the kitchen and out the back door where my truck is parked.

K
im

"Did you drop off that envelope with the Walkers yesterday?"

The phone was ringing the moment I walked into the office this morning. Martin Vedica, my boss, was in San Antonio for a few days to meet with some important clients coming up from Mexico. I wasn't privy to the nature of the business. Martin had said it was only a preliminary meeting, but he was nervous before he left yesterday and handed me the envelope. He insisted I drop it off on my way home, which is kind of strange, since I live just on the outskirts of Cortez, and the Walkers are in the opposite direction, about half an hour out of town. But whatever. I fully intended to drop it off last night, but when Kerry showed up after closing her bookstore next door, and insisted on taking me out for a celebratory drink for my birthday, I totally forgot about the envelope in my purse. Until now.

"Uh, yes." Dammit, I hate lying but I really don't want to piss him off any more than he's been these last two months. He's been irritable and I’ve had to walk on eggshells when approaching him.  It started with the 'big deal' he mentioned to me before Christmas. One that would put his name on the map, in his words. That's when he started aggressively pursuing these properties down past Kelly's Place -  Bed & Breakfast out on County Road G. He had me do title searches on all three farms, but other than that has kept me out of the loop. A couple of 'new clients' have come through the door in the past two months, none of whom he wanted me to have anything to do with. Other than bringing them coffee. But I've picked up words and snippets of conversation here and there and it's had my hair on end. Enough so that I don't really want to make a wrong move and piss him off. So I lie and he buys it.

"Excellent. I'll be back after the weekend. Probably Monday if I can get things rounded up here." By the time he hangs up after I reassured him, he sounds to be in a much better mood. I spend the next hour replying to phone messages and emails. By the time I'm done, it's almost noon. I grab my keys, my poncho and my purse and lock up. I'll use my lunch hour to quickly grab something on the way to the Walker farm.

Kerry has mentioned the diner in Cedar Tree before. Her husband Greg has taken her there a few times. He works for a contractor out of Cedar Tree, Mason Brothers. Said the food there was exceptional compared to what you'd expect from regular diner grub. So when I drive past the sign that says 'Arlene's Diner,' I make the split second decision to have a quick lunch first.

The place is pretty quiet, but it's still early on a Friday. Only a few occupied booths and a single man with long black hair tied back in a ponytail sitting at the counter with his back to me. A nice back from what I can see; wide shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist, all barely contained in the long-sleeved shirt he's wearing. A thick parka is draped over the stool beside his. The moment his head turns toward the door, I avert my eyes and duck down in the shawl of my poncho. I pick a booth by the window so that I have my back to the door and can observe the man at the counter. For some reason he makes me feel uncomfortable. Shaking off the feeling, I grab the menu which is tucked between the bottles of condiments on the table and start leafing through. Everything looks really good, but when the waitress walks up to my table I order a plain chicken salad and water, by rote. Dammit. I can't seem to get the sound of disparaging voices out of my head when I even think to order something off the menu. I've heard them my whole life and even yesterday, on my birthday, when Kerry brought over the pretty cupcake along with the 'Life starts at 40' birthday card, I had a hard time eating it. The encouraging and almost hopeful smile on Kerry's face made it impossible to refuse, so I took a bite. It tasted like sawdust and I had to battle my gag reflex. When she dragged me out to the Lounging Lizard afterwards, I managed to sneak away to the bathroom, to purge the contents of my stomach and immediately felt ten times better. Good enough to order a small chicken salad and a glass of wine. The first didn't make Kerry happy but the second did and we ended up having a good time, mostly filled with Kerry's excited chatter about a shipment of new books which had arrived earlier in the week. That's how we met, Kerry and I. My Kindle is attached to me. In fact I have a spare one at home, in case this one craps out. Occasionally though, I love the feel of a real book in my hands and the first time I ventured into Kerry's Korner, the smell of printed paper in the bookstore made me feel right at home. As did Kerry herself. And even though I am still hesitant to share too much of myself, I've come to trust her. Kind of.

The arrival of my salad at the table interrupts the inconspicuous looks I'm directing toward the counter. More specifically, toward the tall, built and gorgeous man at the counter. I catch him in profile only once, the rest of the time his back stays turned, but that one glimpse is enough to give me butterflies. He's beautiful. With his long hair pulled back from his face, a prominent brow, prominent nose with a bit of a bump, strong square jaws covered in stubble and the most luscious mouth I've ever seen on a man. It's obvious he's at least part Native American, which shouldn't surprise me in this area that is rich with indigenous cultures and a few of the larger reservations.

"Can I get you anything else?" The tall blonde waitress asks, one eyebrow raised. I shake my head and drop my eyes to my bowl of salad, feeling chastised for looking.

"No thank you. Just the bill please."

"Be right back," she says, turning around.

From the corner of my eye, I see her deliver a plate piled high with what I'm sure are sweet potato fries and I immediately look at my own lunch with some regret. Looks good enough, with a few interesting additions of beans, corn and cheese, but still, I shove most of that to the side and eat a few tentative bites of lettuce and chicken. When the tang of a chipotle dressing hits my taste buds I wish I could eat more.