Tahoe Blues (12 page)

She didn’t.

When Cara walked out on Duncan, she left the lifestyle and their joint bank account behind. Cara had a good job and had never embraced the glitz and glamor of casino life. Walking away from it seemed like the amicable thing to do, considering Duncan hadn’t been the one who wanted the divorce.

A light knock on her bedroom door drew her out of her trepidation. “You don’t have to knock
, Tanner, we slept together for Pete’s sake.”

The door opened and Mrs. Grimes
ducked her head around the door. “I’m not TJ, but I have coffee. Is it still okay for me to come in?”

Cara did a quick check to make sure she was decent, the blue tank top and
gray shorts qualified as sleeping attire, so she gestured for Mrs. Grimes to enter. “Where’s Tanner?” she asked as Mrs. Grimes placed a tray over her lap.

“He’s out front
, overseeing the placement of your new statue. I don’t think he’s very happy about it. It doesn’t exactly fit in with the environment he’s been trying to create around here.” Mrs. Grimes gave Cara a knowing wink. “I think he would have nixed the whole thing, if anyone other than you dared to install that thing in their front yard.”

Cara shook her head and frowned. “
I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about, Mrs. Grimes.”

It was Mrs. Grimes turn to frown
. She looked out towards the doorway and pointed out towards the front. “That artist friend of yours, Brett Something-or-other, is outside, and he’s installing some sort of bizarre, curvy metal statue.”

Cara rolled her eyes and drew in a
harsh breath. “Oh no he isn’t!” She climbed out of bed and raced to the door. It open just in time to see a crane release the Laffin’ monstrosity smack dab in the center of her small yard. “Hook that thing back up and get it out of here, Brett,” she stormed at him.

Brett chuckled, “Sorry. No can do. Duncan bought it for you. My job, as described in the contract you made me sign for
the
ball thing
, clearly states that I am to deliver it to the destination of the new owner’s choosing.”

She shook her head and crossed her arms. “If Duncan purchased it
, then it’s his property. I refuse to accept it.”

Brett walked over and placed his hands tenderly upon her shoulders. “Sorry love, but Duncan has me over a barrel. The contract is clear. I am obligated to deliver it to the destination of his choosing.” He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight.

Tanner stepped alongside Brett and barked, “You mean Cara didn’t buy this?”

At the sound of Tanner’s voice
, Cara moved out of Brett’s arms. “I most definitely did not.” She glanced at him and had to do a double take. Over Tanner’s shoulder she saw Barbie Blue Bug standing off in the distance. Cara turned her full attention on Tanner and kicked her head in the direction of his new assistant. “So it’s official, she works here now?”

Tanner took Cara’s elbow and walked her a few steps away from Brett.
“This is only her second day. Don’t worry, I’ve asked her to give you a wide berth.”

Cara was livid. The last thing she needed was to have her ex-husband’s paramour constantly looking o
ver her shoulder. Not having a better place to direct her anger, she stormed back at Brett. “Maybe Duncan would have kept it if you hadn’t created...” she waved her hand at the atrocity in front of her, but found no words.

Brett narrowed his eyes. First he considered Cara and then Tanner. To her surprise, Brett smiled.

“Calm down, Cara,” he soothed. “It’s a Brett Boden original. You could sell it and make a bundle.”

Her anger flared again. H
e was going to make her keep the statue. “Great,” she blasted back. “Take it back to your gallery, put it up for sale, and I’ll split the profits with you.”

Brett opened the door to his truck and stepped up into the cab. He powered down the window and stuck out his lower lip. “You hurt my feelings. This piece may be rather unique, but it’s not that bad. And it fits in perfectly with your
creepy eyeball door.” A chuckle slipped out through his smiling lips, but Brett’s eyes had turned cold. “I think Laffin’ Sal needs a chance to grow on you. I’ll call you in about a week.” He flipped a U-turn and drove away.

Cara stare
d down the street long after the truck turned the corner and was out of sight. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Cara wondered if this day could get any worse. Not really wanting to know the answer to that question, she turned back to Tanner. “Sorry about this. I’m sure the statue breaks all sorts of residential codes. I’ll get it out of here as quickly as possible.”

He shook his head. “I think you have more important things to worry about.” Tanner looked down at the yard
, which he had recently fertilized, and grimaced. “But he’s right, it does kind of go along with the door.”

Cara threw her hands up in the air
. “Are you on Brett’s side now?”

Tanner
flinched at the sound of her outrage and shook his head. “No, I’m on the side of breakfast.”

She followed his eyes up to her front door where Mrs. Grimes stood,
still holding the pot of coffee and instantly relaxed. This strange new family she found herself in was on her side. Yelling at them in frustration because Duncan had once again pushed her buttons was not going to help, and it would only hurt the people she had come to care about.

Tanner took her hand and led her towards the motherly neighbor. “Let’s go eat. I’m sure Mrs. G wants to hear all about how you acquired a Brett Boden original.”

The woman’s eyes practically sparkled as they approached. Cara had to giggle, knowing Mrs. G couldn’t care less about the statue, what the woman wanted to hear about was what was going on between her favorite landlord and her new neighbor.

~~~**~~~

Martin Langley’s voice rose harshly into the phone, “You owe me, Crandall!”

David sighed, there was no way Martin was going to let him off the hook. “Look
, Martin, I know you’re this big time attorney―”

Martin cut him off,
“Don’t try and pull that crap on me. I need you and I need you now.”

David looked around at all the unpacked boxes scattered around his living room and gave up. He dropped into the recently arrived recliner and told Martin the truth. “My wife is still in San Diego and the kids are ju
st getting used to the move. I’m an emotional wreck, and I’m not up to the job.”

Martin’s voice softened. “It’s been months
, David. It’s time for you to get back in the saddle.”

David rubbed his brow. Martin Langley had always been a stubborn son of a bitch. He was getting nowhere with him, so he decided to blame it on the wife. “Marissa won’t like it. She wants me to quit the detective biz.”

“Seriously? Do I actually have to call and ask your wife for permission?”

David could practically see his old friend flipping through his list of contacts in search of Marissa’s number and laughed.

“I knew that was in there somewhere,” Martin chuckled in response. “Look, Buddy, I know you almost died, but you didn’t. You’re alive and this woman could really use your help.”

Almost died. Martin said it
as if it was something that happened every day. David had been bashed in the back of the head with the butt of a sawed-off shot gun. More than the injury he suffered, what haunted him was the fact that he had killed a man. Because of him, his partner was now paralyzed, and although he hadn’t pulled the trigger, he felt directly responsible for the death of a young woman. David had screwed up big time, and he wasn’t sure if that was a horse he wanted to get back on.

“I cannot be respo
nsible for your client’s safety,” David stated matter-of-factly.

T
here was a note of triumph in Martin’s voice. “You won’t even have to speak with Cara. Your work will be done strictly behind the scenes.”

David’s
skinny son, Jack, and his sassy daughter, Sandy, raced through the room. Jack tore after his younger sister who held her brother’s favorite dinosaur tight within her grasp. David shook his head. Jack might be the older brother, but he was slow. He was never going to catch Sandy, but then there would be hell to pay when Jack exacted his revenge. For all their sakes he needed to wrap-up his conversation with Martin and intervene. “Fine. Where do I start?”

On the other side of town in his up-scale office, Martin pumped his fist victoriously. “Just follow the money, David. Follow the money.”

~~~**~~~

Three hours after Mrs. Grimes and Tanner left her place fully fed and caffeinated, Cara walked out of her bedroom bathed and ready to face whatever else this day would bring. The long soak had done her a world of good, and it had given her time to come to a few conclusions. First, since she didn’t know what Duncan had planned, it wasn’t possible to launch a pre-emptive strike against him. No matter how much she wanted to act, she was forced to trust Martin Langley to do his thing and protect her as best he could. Secondly, it was evident she couldn’t beat Duncan at his own game, so she wasn’t about to play by his rules. Last but definitely not least, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she loved her new home and the two people who had shown her so much support. Tanner and Mrs. Grimes had come through for her last night and this morning, and Cara knew she was lucky to have them in her life. They rated right up there with Leah.

Brett
, who would have ordinarily made the list of extraordinary friends, was at least temporarily, in the dog house.

On that note, Cara picked up the phone and called her best friend. Leah needed to know what was going on and that Cara’s arrest for fraud was probably imminent. The last thing Cara
wanted was for Leah to read about it in the newspapers, or have a customer come into her shop wanting to gossip about the notorious Cara Lee Greene.

Leah picked up, but brushed her off. “Really busy right now. Call you back in thirty.”

The phone went dead, and having decided to take her lawyer’s advice to lay low, Cara was left with an empty thirty minutes in her otherwise black-hole of a day.

She looked back at the last few months and remembered longing for a day of rest, and for the opportuni
ty to be bored. Now that total nothingness loomed out in front of her, she wondered what the hell she’d been thinking. The waiting around was driving her bananas.

Cara picked up the remote and clicked
on the television. She flipped randomly through the channels, searching in vain for something to take her mind off the pickle she found herself mixed up in. With each infomercial and rerun she passed, her agitation increased. Her leg bounced nervously as each channel surfed by. She finally settled on a local golf tournament.

It didn’t take long before Cara decided that watching golf was like watching grass grow.

After ten minutes of staring blankly at the screen, Cara could stand it no more and snapped off the tube.

Her cell phone sat on t
he coffee table in front of her. The urge to call Duncan and give him a piece of her mind was strong enough to entice her to pick it up, but not strong enough to actually call the man. She opted for tapping out a threatening text message instead.

If I go down for something I am completely innocent of, then you go down too.

Cara stared at the sentence and wavered between sending it or deleting it. The inability to make up her mind was enough to convince her that any contact with Duncan was probably a bad idea.

Still she hesitated. Her finger itched to entice a confrontation. The phone vibrated in her hand, she jumped and her thumb hit send. The message was off
, whether she wanted it or not, and the knowledge didn’t upset her in the least. She also knew it was probably going to come back and bite her in the butt. When her lawyer told her to lay low, texting Duncan was not what he had in mind.

She looked down at her phone and saw a text from Leah.
Headed down to Rosie’s. Meet me for coffee.

Leah’s invitation sounded like heaven. The walls of her
apartment were closing in and she had to get out. She stashed the phone in her purse and opened the door.

Just before she pulled into Rosie’s parking lot
, her phone rang. She looked at the dash and saw the incoming call was from her ex. She took a deep breath and braced herself for yet another argument. “We have nothing to talk about, Duncan,” she called out at the mic near her visor. “My text was clear.”

“Babe
? Are you in trouble? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

One thing she could say about Duncan was that
he was a good actor. The man actually sounded concerned and confused. “Don’t play dumb with me,” she blasted back. “I know you are behind the police investigation. You’re setting me up to go down for stealing money from the charity gala. I refuse to spend one day in prison for something I didn’t do.” She wanted to be strong, but tears began to roll down her cheeks, and there was a catch in her voice when she choked out her final question. “Do you hate me that much?”