Spin a Wicked Web (33 page)

What was his ex up to this time?

"Did I interrupt something?" I asked. Couldn't quite keep the
sarcasm out of my voice, but I didn't really try, either.

"Sophie Mae," Barr said. "Please don't take this wrong, but I
need you to leave. Go home. I'll call you as soon as I can." The
pleading in his eyes increased.

I was stunned. "What's going on here?"

"Please," he said.

Hannah shifted, snagging my attention.

And I saw the gun.

She held it easily in her hand. I don't know anything about
guns, but it seemed big enough to do some real damage.

I looked at the gun. I looked at Hannah. She smiled. Then she
pointed it at Barr.

"What are you going to do?" I asked. "Make him go back to
Wyoming or shoot him?"

She made a noise of exasperation in the back of her throat,
and pointed the barrel at me. "Shut up. This isn't about you."

"The hell it isn't."

Barr took a step toward her. She swung the weapon toward
him again, and he stopped.

Oh brother.

"Let me handle this," he said, voice low and calm. I had a sudden notion of him dealing with a horse or a cow-or a grizzly
bear-using the same tone. "Hannah will let you go. Won't you,
Hannah?"

She started to nod, then shook her head once. Her eyes darted
left and right, and her shoulders hunched defensively. It was one
thing to start waving a gun around at Barr, but another to add a
third party, and her rival at that. My presence had backed her into
a corner. My neck tingled again at the thought.

Barr was right. I should leave while I still could and let him
handle his loony ex.

On the other hand, I had an idea.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," I said, and walked between them and
into the kitchen.

Hannah looked confused as I passed. So did Barr.

I opened the cupboard and took out a glass. Ice clattered out of
the refrigerator door into the glass, and then I ran tap water into it.
Took a long drink.

"Anyone want anything?" I called.

Silence.

"Water?" I opened the fridge again. "There's some root beer in
here."

"No thanks," Barr said from the other room.

"Hannah?"

"Uh, no," came the hesitant reply.

"Okay, then," I said, returning to the living room. I walked
straight up to Hannah and snatched the gun out of her hand. She
was so surprised she didn't resist.

"This time you've gone too far," I said. The edge in my voice
could have cut glass.

Barr was at my side in an instant. I gave him the gun and turned
back to his ex-wife. Utter defeat slumped her shoulders, and she
stared down at the floor.

She nodded. "I just-"

"You cut your hair."

Silence.

"You can't force someone to love you."

"I know."

"But you can do a pretty good job of making them dislike you.
A lot."

Her head snapped up, eyes searching for Barr's. "Do you hate
me now?"

A pause, and then he said, "You've got to stop this nonsense.
Go back to the ranch. It's where you belong."

"Yeah." She grimaced, and looked between us.

"So go home," I said, "and leave us alone."

She blinked. "I'm sorry."

"Good," I said. "'Bye"

So I wasn't as easygoing as Barr. Sue me.

And she left this time. Really and truly left.

"What were you thinking?" I couldn't keep the frustration out of
my voice as I asked Ruth the question. My spinning wheel whirred,
the spokes a blur, and the natural wool roving I was spinning accumulated on the spool at a rapid rate.

"I never should have lied," Ruth said, her voice sheepish beside
me. She was also spinning, but her wheel turned slowly.

I didn't look up, afraid I'd lose my rhythm and foul up my yarn.
"What did the police say? Are you in trouble?"

"Probably less than I ought to be. It doesn't hurt that I'm a feeble little old lady."

I laughed.

"I have to go to court and testify," she said.

"Against Chris and Irene?"

"Yes." The word was clipped.

I stopped spinning and looked at her. "You don't want to."

"Of course I don't want to, but it's the right thing to do." She
calmly fed a soy-silk blend into her wheel. "People can't go around
killing people."

I couldn't have put it better myself.

"Well, I have to testify, too," I said. "Chris didn't only protect
Irene by lying for her and tricking you into doing the same. She
also confessed to tampering with my brakes. They're going to try
her for attempted murder."

Ruth's wheel slowed to a stop, and she looked up with a shocked
expression. "Chris made you have that wreck? Why would she do
that?"

I shrugged. "She thought I suspected Irene, and if Irene went
down, so would she. Which is, of course, exactly what happened."

"Did you?"

"What? Suspect Irene?"

She nodded.

"Not at that point. But sometimes guilt can make you a little
paranoid, you know?"

Ruth started spinning again. A few minutes later I heard her
murmur, "Maybe I won't mind testifying against them so much
after all."

People had indeed gone around killing people. Irene had killed
Ariel, and it certainly looked like Ariel had killed Scott Popper.
Barr had talked to Dusty and Zak, and they'd pinpointed the last
time Officer Popper's car had been serviced: the day before his accident. And sure enough, Ariel had been hanging out with Zak
that day. They'd even recalled a period when they'd been slammed
with work, and she'd had full run of the shop.

Next they figured out what tools she might have used, and Barr
had them all fingerprinted. They found two of her prints. But the
clincher was that her prints were also found on the rack-andpinion steering mechanism of Scott's patrol car. They couldn't
wring a confession from her now, obviously, and if she hadn't died
Ariel probably would have gotten away with the murder. As for
her parents' car wreck, we'd never know about that.

And Hannah? Cassie called to assure us that she'd returned to
the ranch. Last we'd heard, she was making a play for Barr's
younger brother, Randall. If she managed to hook him she
wouldn't even have to change her name.

"You've got to be kidding;" I said. It was a week later, and I'd thought
things were getting back to normal.

"Not even a little bit. Go ahead, turn around." Barr, grinning
like an idiot, produced a silk scarf from his pocket.

We were standing in the entryway of the house. Meghan leaned
in the doorway to the living room, arms folded.

"Do you know what this is all about?" I asked her.

"Yep."

"And you're not about to tell me," I said.

"Nope"

I looked at Barr again. Still grinning. Well, if it was going to
make him that happy. I turned. "Don't tie it too tight."

"Afraid he'll mess up your hair?" Meghan asked.

"Shut up."

He finished tying the blindfold, and put his hands on my
shoulders. "Out front."

What on earth?

I stumbled on the front step, but Barr caught me. Carefully he
led me down the sidewalk, then we paused and he opened the gate.
The sun was warm, the silk was soft against my face, and chickadees called to one another up and down our street. I heard
Meghan's steps behind me.

"You didn't buy me a pony, did you? Because I've always wanted
a pony, ever since I was a little girl."

"In a manner of speaking," Barr said.

"What? Tell me you didn't go get me a horse or some such nonsense, Barr Ambrose, because I don't know how to ride a horse, and
I don't have time for a horse, and I don't even know if I like-"

Barr grabbed my hands before I could rip the blindfold off.

"Will you relax? Geez, sometimes you make it awful hard to be
nice to you."

Chastened, I dropped my arms.

"Now come down here," he said.

I did what I was told.

More footsteps behind, and Erin's breathless voice. "Has it happened yet?"

"Not yet," Meghan said.

God, even the eleven-year-old was in on it.

"Okay. I'm going to take the blindfold off now. Hold still," Barr
said.

The fabric slid away, and I squinted into the sunlight. We were
standing on the sidewalk in front of the house.

In front of a Land Rover.

And not just any Land Rover. It was dark green, an older
model, maybe from the nineteen eighties, in perfect gleaming
condition. How had he known?

"Oh, my God," I breathed. "It's wonderful."

Meghan laughed.

"Will you take me for a ride?" I asked.

"For Pete's sake, Sophie Mae," Barr said. "It's not mine. It's
yours.

I whirled to look up at him.

He smiled. "Look inside."

Bewildered and a little giddy, I walked to the side and peered
in the window. In the back seat sat a fully assembled Ashford spinning wheel, like Ruth's. He'd stained it golden pecan, and the wood
glowed where the sunlight struck the edge of the drive wheel.
Piled around it were bags of wool, puffs of fiber, long snakes of
roving, a stack of delicate rolled batts. A handkerchief of silk fiber
hung from the rearview window.

I turned and blinked. "You did all this for me?"

There was that grin again. He nodded. "You like it?"

"I love it. Oh, but Barr, it's too much. Way too much."

"In case you haven't heard, I'm a millionaire. That means I get
to buy you pretty things if I want to. Ruth helped me pick everything out."

Meghan had that grin on her face now, too. And so did Erin.

"I ... I don't-" My voice broke. My vision grew watery.

He took a step toward me. "Oh, hey. Don't get all girly on me,
now. Don't cry. You hear me?"

I sniffed. Nodded. "Thank you. It's all just perfect."

"That's better. You're welcome. There's just one more thing."
He held out a small velvet box.

"The key?" I asked, and opened the box.

A big fat diamond glinted up at me.

Speechless, I watched as the man I loved sank to one knee on
the sidewalk. Erin started to say something, but Meghan shushed
her.

"Sophie Mae Reynolds, will you marry me?" Barr asked.

I felt my eyes go wide. Next to Meghan, Erin started jumping
up and down.

Wow. Oh, wow.

THE END