Pipeline (15 page)

We
were both hungrier than we thought, and the food disappeared quickly. As we
chatted over a cup of coffee and even managed to have a few laughs, I was
beginning to feel at peace again and it felt good. I had spent most of my life
in dangerous situations. If I had wanted to live dangerously, I could have
asked Cate to stay with me. She might have agreed, but I had decided to retire
from dangerous living.

She
waited while I paid for our meal, and then I walked her to her car.

"Thanks
for coming down, Cate. It was a mess, wasn't it?" I smiled.

"You'll
get it back in shape. I'm glad there was something I could do. I owed you for trying
to help Kyle, even if it didn't turn out the way I'd hoped."

"You
never know. I might still be able to help. Lena's death has made me mad. So
even if he doesn't want my help, he won't have much choice. The story is his,
but the revenge belongs to me."

She
reached out and touched my face. "Don't do anything careless, Jo. It's
already getting out of hand. I don't want to see anyone else get hurt
either."

I
took her hand and held it. "It's too late now. Whoever is behind this
knows I'm involved, and they know Kyle is, too. They have to be flushed out
before any of us can feel safe again."

I
glanced down and realized I was holding her hand. I didn't want to let it go
but opened my hand to release it anyway.

"You
better hit the road before it gets any later. I'll follow you for a
while."

"Making
sure I go home." She smiled.

"Making
sure no one is going with you."

She
nodded and got into the car. I heard the door locks click and as soon as she
started her car, I went to mine, following her for nearly thirty miles before
pulling over and making a U-turn back toward the ranch.

Chapter
Sixteen

A
LITTLE BEFORE two on Tuesday afternoon I pulled into the drive of Sanderson's
Funeral Home. There were a few cars in the adjacent parking area. It was a
bright day, and only wisps of clouds marked the blue of the sky. After slipping
my jacket on, I briefly checked my appearance in the reflection in the car
window.

I
took a deep breath and pulled the front door open, removing my sunglasses as I
entered. Funny thing about funeral homes. They're always so quiet, as if the
slightest noise might awaken their customers. I caught the door to make sure it
closed quietly behind me. When I turned around, the funeral director was there,
the deep pile carpeting silencing his approach.

"Ms.
Carlisle," he said quietly, extending his hand. "My
condolences."

"Everything
ready, Mr. Sanderson?" I asked.

"Yes.
We'll be leaving shortly. The mariachis will meet us near the entrance to the
cemetery."

"Fine,"
I said softly. All I wanted was for the day to end.

"Father
Ramon is here. If you have a moment he'd like to speak to you."

I
nodded and waited while Sanderson went to get the priest. Father Ramon looked
too young to have been a priest very long. He was dark complexioned with thick
black hair and intense brown eyes. He was dressed in a black suit and clerical
collar.

"Ms.
Carlisle," he said with no hint of an accent.

"Father,"
I nodded as I shook his hand.

"I
was wondering if there was anything you could tell me about Ms. Rubio? I'm
afraid I didn't know her."

I
had to smile. "And I'm afraid she probably never visited your church,
Father. But I know she was Catholic. She was a good woman who gave her life
helping a friend. She lived a hard life and did the best she could."

He
looked at me and smiled warmly. "Then I shall do the best I can for
her."

He
turned and followed Sanderson while I slipped my sunglasses back on and left to
get in my car. As I turned down the sidewalk, I was surprised to see Cate
standing next to my Blazer. She was wearing aviator-style sunglasses and a
black suit. A moment later I saw that she wasn't alone. Kyle and Sarita were
standing on the driver's side of the car. I took keys from my pocket as I
approached them, hoping that an already unpleasant day wasn't going to get
worse.

"I'm
very sorry about your friend, Ms. Carlisle," Sarita said sincerely as she
hugged me briefly.

"Thank
you, Sarita."

Kyle
didn't speak, but his sullen look told me that he was there under protest.

"I'm
surprised to see you here," I said in a low voice as I looked across the
Blazer at Cate.

"I
thought we should be. It seemed the least we could do."

"The
service is going to be at the cemetery."

Cate
nodded and looked at Kyle. "You and Sarita take my car. I'll ride with
Jo," she said, tossing him her keys. Then she turned back to me. "If
that's all right."

"Fine,"
I answered as I walked around the car and unlocked the passenger door.

I
opened the door and waited for Cate to get in. Kyle took Sarita's hand and went
to Cate's Seville. By the time I got in the car, the hearse was pulling around
the corner of the building, and I started the engine and turned on my
headlights. Cate unbuttoned the jacket to her suit as she adjusted her
seatbelt. There was a faint white pinstripe in the suit that I hadn't noticed
in the sunlight. Beneath the jacket, she wore a white, sleeveless, V-neck top
that looked like a suit vest.

"A
little cool today," I said, looking through the rearview mirror at Kyle
and Sarita in the car behind me.

"It's
early. It might still warm up," Cate said.

The
hearse stopped three blocks from the cemetery where six mariachis were waiting.
Six men I didn't know waited as Sanderson opened the rear of the hearse. Father
Ramon wore an embroidered white and purple robe over his suit and said a quiet
prayer as the coffin was taken from the vehicle. The coffin rolled quietly from
the hearse and the six strangers hoisted it onto their shoulders. As the men
carrying the coffin reached the front of the hearse, the mariachis began
playing. I helped Cate out of the car, and we began a short procession toward
the cemetery, walking silently toward a canopied site. The whole service didn't
last more than twenty or thirty minutes, and Father Ramon did a surprisingly
good job of eulogizing Lena Rubio, a total stranger. Secretly, I hoped he never
found out anything else about her life. Whatever religious beliefs she may have
held in the past had left this world long before her soul had. When the final
prayers were said, I thanked Father Ramon and gave him a donation for his
church.

"I
appreciate you coming, Cate," I said as we walked back toward our cars.

"Would
it be all right if we followed you back to the house?"

"It's
not exactly ready for company."

"I
might have some information for you that will be helpful."

"What
did you have to do to get him here?" I asked, glancing back at Kyle.

"If
it wasn't for Sarita, he probably wouldn't be."

"Maybe
we should put this reunion off for another time."

"It's
already been too long, and it won't get easier as more time passes."

"Do
you want to ride with me and let them follow?"

She
nodded. I started my car while she went to speak to Kyle. Through the rearview
mirror they appeared to be exchanging heated words. I was tempted to get out of
the car, but before my thoughts got any further, I saw Cate coming back toward
the Blazer.

"You
were right," I said as she got in and buckled her seatbelt. "Looks
like it's warming up."

Neither
of us spoke again until I drove out of the city limits.

"Have
you had any trouble since Saturday?"

"No.
It's been pretty quiet. Cal sends a unit by a couple of times a day. Actually
had a good night's sleep last night."

"Maybe
whoever was responsible believes Lena's death will convince you to drop the
story."

"Then
whoever 'they' are don't know me very well. I don't want to sound ungrateful or
anything, Cate, but why the hell did you drag Kyle here?"

"I
thought he needed to see that sometimes a story can have serious consequences.
And maybe I'm hoping he'll accept your help."

"I'll
give him whatever I have, but I'm not doing it for the damn story. This is
personal, and I don't want him in my way."

"Then
you're going to continue investigating the story?"

"To
wherever and whomever it leads."

As I
got out of the Blazer in front of my home, I noticed that Kyle was leaning
against the door of the Seville looking around the ranch. It had been a long
time since he had been here, but it hadn't changed much over the years. Cate
walked back to her car and took a small bag from the backseat as I took off my
jacket and waited on the porch.

"What's
with the bag?" I asked as I opened the front door.

"I
thought I'd change out of this suit."

She
entered the house and went upstairs to the second floor. I threw my jacket over
a chair in the living room and went into the kitchen for something to drink. I
was pouring a glass of tea when Sarita came into the room.

"Tea?"
I asked.

"I
could use something to drink. Thank you." She smiled.

I
took a second glass from the cabinet and poured tea into it. "There's
sugar in the canister if you want it. And I think there's some lemon in the
refrigerator."

"This
is fine," she said as I handed her the glass. "Ms. Carlisle, I can't
tell you how very sorry I was to hear about Ms. Rubio. I feel like it was my
fault."

"It's
no one's fault, Sarita. She wanted to help. Just didn't quite work out the way
we thought it would."

We
drank in awkward silence for a few minutes.

"Look,
Sarita, I don't know why Kyle is here. If you and Cate think this is going to
lead to some kind of instant parental bonding, you're wrong."

"I
don't really know what I expect, Ms. Carlisle."

"Just
Jo, please."

"Okay,
Jo. You see, I love Kyle very much."

"Even
a fool like me can see that," I said with a smile.

"But
he's become restless and distant since he began researching this story, and I
don't know how to bring him back."

I
leaned against the counter and took a long drink of my tea. "I've made
some monumental mistakes in my life, Sarita. I used to be consumed with my
work, too, so if you're planning a life with Kyle, you should know that he
won't let anything stand in the way of a story. Not even you. He's got a big
story on the line now, and like a junkie looking for a fix, the next one will
have to be even bigger. Although I'm sure he loves you very much, he'll love
the story more. Shit." I laughed. "I started the same way. As long as
the big stories keep coming, he'll keep chasing after them until, in the end,
he'll leave you in his dust, sweetheart."

"Is
that what you did?"

"I've
been shot three times, Sarita, and with every bullet my prestige as a
journalist grew. I became addicted to the thrill, the danger. I loved it,"
I said. "But you know what? When I got to the top and looked around, there
wasn't anyone there except me. There wasn't anyone to share it with. I had a
career that I loved, but I had to give up a hell of a lot to get it. I hurt a
lot of people, including Cate and Kyle, along the way. You're a nice young
woman. I wouldn't want to see Kyle hurt you and leave you alone the way I did
Cate."

"You
don't blame her for leaving you then?"

"Hell,
I was surprised she waited so long."

"She
must have loved you very much."

I
looked at her and blinked hard. "I like to think she loved me as much as I
loved her. But eventually she knew she couldn't depend on me to be there for
either of them. I loved her enough to let her go."

"Maybe
you didn't really know what love was."

I
smiled at Sarita. "Maybe I still don't." As I raised my glass to my
lips, I saw Cate standing in the kitchen doorway and wondered how long she had
been there. "I see you got comfortable," I said. "Want some
tea?"

"I
can get it. Why don't you get out of that suit? It's nice, Jo, but it's really
not you." She smiled.

"Yeah,
that sounds like a good idea," I said. "Excuse me, ladies."

I
went upstairs to my bedroom and peeled out of the suit. As I hung it in the
closet, I wondered if I could return it to the store. Chances were good that
I'd never wear the damn thing again, I thought as I slipped on a pair of jeans
and a T-shirt. Taking my old desert boots from the closet, I sat down on the
bed to tie them before wandering into the bathroom and splashing water on my
face. As I was drying my face and hands, I looked out the bathroom window and
saw Kyle walking toward the barn. I knew Cate and Sarita expected me to talk to
him, to reach some kind of working arrangement about his story, but I was in
alien territory. I had never really worked with anyone in my life and didn't
have a clue how to go about it. What can you say to someone you haven't seen in
fifteen years, someone you knew hated your guts and wished you'd never
resurfaced. Maybe there wasn't anything I could say. Maybe I could give him
advice on a professional level, one reporter to another. If he rejected it, too
bad. He could learn to take his lumps the way I had.