Showdown in West Texas (10 page)

“Ex-husbands have been known to bear grudges,” Cage said with a shrug.

She laughed. “Not after this many years. We were only married three months.”

“Well, somebody's got a beef with you,” Cage said. “Unless you think that ambush was random, and I'm hard-pressed to believe that it was. Whoever was up here had a clear view of the road and the Sheriff's De
partment emblem on the side of your truck. The shooter knew exactly who he was firing on.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“No maybe about it,” Cage said. “Somebody was trying to kill you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Grace gave him a strange, searching look. “How do we know they weren't firing at you?” she asked, before she turned and started down the canyon.

Grace did not think for a moment that Jesse Nance had been up on that ridge firing down on them. For one thing, he hadn't seemed all that cut up when their marriage ended, so she highly doubted he'd been carrying a grudge all these years.

And for another, he just wasn't the type. He had his faults, no one knew that better than Grace. The Jesse she remembered was lazy, selfish and irresponsible, and his lack of ambition was only exceeded by his lack of scruples. But he'd had his limits and Grace just couldn't see him being involved in anything truly dastardly.

Still, his ranch was the only one for miles around, and the body had been found at the edge of his property. At the very least, Grace needed to find out if he'd witnessed any unusual or suspicious activity in the desert lately.

She pulled up in front of the house and sat for a moment, just staring through the windshield. Boy, did that place take her back.

In its time, the Nance Ranch must have been something. Grace could well imagine the lavish barbecues at
roundup, the sound of music and laughter echoing across the desert, the rustle of silk skirts on a makeshift dance floor beneath the stars. But by the time she and Jesse had become friends, the Nance family fortune had dwindled and the ranch was already in a sad state of decline.

After his father died, the upkeep had proven too much for his mother's salary as a nurse. Jesse and his sister each had trust funds, but they couldn't touch the money until they turned twenty-five. Once the family's savings had been depleted, there'd been no extra cash for anything other than the most necessary repairs, and for as long as Grace could remember, the house had been nothing more than a shadow of its former glory.

But she'd always loved coming here, and had never paid much mind to the shabbiness. She, Jesse and Colt McKinney had been inseparable all through junior high and high school. They'd spent most of their free time out here riding horses and four-wheelers and swimming in a little creek near Red Rock Canyon.

Sometime after her sixteenth birthday, Grace and Jesse had paired off, and Colt quit coming around so much. But Grace had still spent every waking moment at the Nances, and Jesse's mother, Aggie, had doted on her. Jesse had once told Grace that the reason his mother had taken their elopement so well was because she already loved Grace like a daughter, and thought she just might be the only thing that could save Jesse from a life of sloth and debauchery.

Aggie Nance had died the same year Grace left town, and she still regretted not coming back for the funeral.

“You okay?” Dale asked softly.

“Yeah. Let's get this over with.”

As they climbed out of the truck, a woman who looked barely out of her teens came out on the porch. She was dressed in short shorts and cowboy boots, and the crop top she wore revealed an expanse of smooth, tanned skin. Her face was narrow, the nose perfectly shaped, her silky hair fastened in a high ponytail that swayed when she moved. Her eyes were blue, not vivid cobalt like Dale's, but a pale aquamarine.

As Grace approached the porch, the woman watched her with all the friendliness and warmth of a pit viper.

Grace dipped her chin. “Morning. I'm Sheriff Steele—”

“I know who you are.” Insolence dripped like molasses off the woman's drawl as her gaze ran up and down Grace's dusty clothes. “You're a lot older than I thought you'd be.”

Grace wished that she could say the woman was a lot younger than she'd expected, but she figured it was Jesse's natural inclination to gravitate to someone more in keeping with his maturity level.

Not to mention someone with those legs. They looked about a mile long between the top of her boots and the bottom of her shorts. And not so much as a ripple of cellulite anywhere that Grace could see.

On closer inspection, Grace decided the woman was a little older than she'd first thought. She might have been all of twenty-three.

“I don't believe I've had the pleasure,” Grace said.

The young woman hesitated a split second, as if working it out in her head whether or not she should give Grace her name. “Sookie Truesdale.”

“That's an unusual name.”

“I'm named after my grandmother.”

“Hey, so am I. I guess that gives us a thing or two in common,” Grace said, trying to break the ice.

“Well, we've both been with Jesse Nance,” Sookie said. “But I don't reckon that gives either one of us any bragging rights.”

“Speaking of Jesse, is he home?”

“Nah uh.”

“Do you know where I can find him? Or when he'll be back?”

“What do I look like, his secretary?” Sookie's gaze moved past Grace to where Dale stood by the truck. “He a deputy or something? I haven't seen him around before.”

“He's new.”

Sookie gave an appreciative nod. “Well, I always said this place could use some fresh man candy. And he looks pretty munchable to me.” She tore her eyes off Dale and refocused on Grace. “There's blood on the side of your face. What did you do, get in a fight or something?”

“Cat scratched me,” Grace said.

“Cat do that to your truck, too?”

“It was a big cat.”

Sookie smirked as she lifted a hand and smoothed back a strand of hair. For the first time, Grace noticed that the woman's face was slightly flushed, as if she'd been exerting herself, or had just come in from the heat. “What do you want with Jesse?”

“I just need to ask him a few questions.”

“Is he in some kind of trouble?”

“Not so far as I know. This is strictly routine.” Grace propped a foot on the bottom step.

“Well, like I said, I don't know when he'll be back.”

“Maybe I could ask you a question or two then,” Grace said. “Have you seen any strangers around here lately?”

Sookie nodded toward the truck. “You mean besides Pretty over there?”

“Yeah, besides him.”

She lifted a shoulder.

“Does that mean yes or no?”

“It means I don't rightly remember at the moment.”

“Well, do you
remember
if Jesse was home last night?” Grace asked in a slightly goading tone.

The blue eyes narrowed as Sookie folded her arms across her chest. “I thought you said he wasn't in any trouble.”

“He's not. But there has been some trouble out by the canyon,” Grace told her. “I'd like to know if he saw anybody out there last night.”

“I wouldn't know,” Sookie said. “I spent the night in town with a girlfriend. Sarah Beth Conroy, just in case you want to check or something.”

“So you haven't seen Jesse this morning?”

“That's what I said. Guess you and Studley Do-right made a trip out here for nothing.” She shot another glance at Dale. “There is such a thing as a telephone, you know. Look into it.”

Grace took another step up the stairs as she fanned herself with her hand. “I've been out in this heat all morning. You think I could trouble you for a glass of ice water?”

Sookie stood there—arms still folded over her chest—and stared at Grace. Then she turned without a word and marched into the house.

She'd left the door open, so Grace took that as an invitation. She glanced back at Dale, inclined her head slightly toward the large garage that stood off to the side of the house, and then followed Sookie inside.

Grace stood in the spacious foyer for a moment, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness. Off to the side of the front hall was a room Aggie had always called the parlor. Grace could detect a faint scent of fresh paint from that direction, and the hodgepodge of furniture crowded inside looked mostly brand new.

Up the curving staircase and third door down the hallway was the room where Grace had lost her virginity. Not a bad memory, but one she didn't particularly care to dwell on.

She followed the clip-clop of Sookie's boots down the hallway to the kitchen. There were changes here as well. Aggie's wallpaper and Coppertone appliances—ancient even back then—had been replaced with shiny stainless steel and sleek granite.

“Looks like Jesse is doing okay for himself,” Grace said. “What's he up to these days?”

“Why don't you ask him for yourself when you see him?” Sookie filled a glass with crushed ice and water from the refrigerator door. “You said there'd been some trouble out at the canyon. What kind of trouble?”

“Some teenagers on four-wheelers found a body out there this morning.”

The blond ponytail swayed wildly as Sookie's head swung around to Grace, and her face darkened. “Who was it?”

Was that a note of fear that had crept into her voice?

“We haven't been able to make a positive ID yet.”

“You don't have any idea who he is?”

“I never said the victim was male.”

An
oh, damn
expression spread over Sookie's features. “Well, I just…I guess I assumed.” She took a moment to find her composure. “If nobody knows who this person is, then he…she…must not be from around here. That's why you're asking about strangers, right?”

“Have you seen anybody like that around here?”

“Can't say as I have.” She plunked the water glass down on the counter.

Grace took a couple of sips and returned the glass to the counter. “Do you know Cecelia Suarez? She's about your age, I think. Works for Colt McKinney.”

“I know who she is, but we're not friends or anything. I see her at the Blue Moon sometimes. Why?”

“Have you ever heard her mention a brother?”

“You mean Sergio?” Revelation dawned then and Sookie's eyes widened as her hand crept to her chest. “Is he…?”

“Like I said, we haven't made an ID yet.”

Sookie bit her lip. Two faint blotches of red stained her cheeks. “Look, I need to…I need to visit the little girl's room. I'll be right back.”

She left the kitchen quickly, and Grace could hear the clatter of her boots hurrying down the hallway. A door closed and then the house fell silent.

And into that waiting quiet came a sound that sent a chill up Grace's spine.

A sound from her past.

From where she stood, she could see out the window. Just beyond the garage, an old wooden windmill pumped water into a metal tank.

The ginning sound of the blades took Grace back so thoroughly that when the wind puffed open the screen door on the back porch, she thought for a moment that someone had come inside. She whirled, but no one was there.

As she turned back, her gaze was drawn to the window again. Dale Walsh was just coming around the corner of the garage, and for some reason it was like Grace had unexpectedly caught sight of an old friend. She'd known him for less than a day and already she was getting used to having him around.

“What's so interesting out that window?”

Grace jumped at the sound of Sookie's voice behind her. Evidently, the woman could move about quietly in those boots when she had a mind to.

“Nothing.” Grace turned. “I thought I heard someone on the back porch just now. Thought it might be Jesse.”

“It's just the wind blowing the screen door. I must have left it unlatched when I came in earlier. You sure seem skittish for a cop.”

You try getting shot at and see if you don't get a little skittish.
“So, where were we? Oh, yeah, you were about to tell me how you know this Sergio fellow.”

“I don't know him,” Sookie rushed to assure her. “Never even met the guy. I've just heard Cecelia mention him a time or two.”

“Is his last name Suarez?”

“I couldn't tell you.”

“Has Cecelia ever mentioned where he lives?”

“Across the border somewhere. Nuevo Laredo, maybe.”

Grace took another drink of water, then walked
over and put the glass in the sink. “That hit the spot,” she said. “Thanks.”

They went back out to the porch. The wind was hot and dry, and way out over the plains, Grace could see a dust devil spinning and dancing across the desert floor.

Dale leaned against the truck, arms folded, one foot crossed over the other as if he'd been there the whole time they'd been gone.

When they came down the steps, he gave a little wave and smiled, and Grace heard Sookie catch her breath.

Yeah,
Grace thought.
I know.

 

G
RACE GAVE
C
AGE
the lowdown on her conversation with Sookie Truesdale as they drove back to town. She was still unconvinced that Nance had been the shooter at the canyon, and since Cage hadn't found a smoking gun—literally or figuratively—in the garage or barn, she'd seen no reason to change her opinion.