Chapter Ten
Grace inspected herself in the mirror. She’d changed into a pair of jeans and debated over the turquoise, V-neck crepe or the white off-the-shoulder peasant blouse. Not wanting to come off as trying to look sexy, the V-neck won. She put on her favorite pair of gold sandals, then pulled her hair into a ponytail, stuffed her laptop into her oversized bag, and went to meet Daniel in the bar of the hotel. It was time she showed him Jessie’s article.
She hadn’t told Daniel about her father hiring ICU, and, because the fancy pants agency hadn’t come up with anything, she wasn’t going to. Either that or a certain overprotective father was keeping something from her. Which wasn’t that far out of the realm of reality and total bullshit. Jessie was running out of time and her father was playing games. It downright infuriated her.
She found Daniel sitting at a corner booth, a beer bottle and a glass of white wine on the table in front him. He’d changed too and was now back in cowboy mode, wearing a form-fitting t-shirt and showing off that awesome chest. He got to his feet when he saw her, a smile lighting up his face. Honestly, she was just as happy to see him. Now away from his terrible driving, she no longer wanted to kill him. Instead, that smile reminded her of what had almost happened this morning.
She wasn’t into one-night stands and, although she wouldn’t be walking away for at least two weeks, she barely knew the guy. Why the hell then did she feel so comfortable around him? It went against, well, it went against everything she was, or everything her father had drilled into her head. Trust is earned and even then be on guard. She wasn’t stupid enough to allow his good looks and over-the-top charm to shanghai her very honed, acutely trained sensibilities. What about him was different?
“I went ahead and ordered you a wine,” he said, taking his seat after she’d taken hers. “The waiter assures me it’s good pinot grigio, but if it’s not to your liking, he’s offered to get you something else. I wasn’t sure how hungry you were. I asked him to come back.”
She glanced down at the wine, impressed that he remembered what she drank. “I’m sure it’s fine. And I’m not very hungry right now.” She set her purse on the bench beside her and pulled out her laptop, noting a couple of sheets of paper beside Daniel, curiously flipped over. “I brought Jessie’s article.” She’d left the pictures and the notes in her room, a part of her not completely trusting the man, but she’d copied Jessie’s story into a Word document. “I don’t have a printer and I’m sorry, but I’d prefer it not leave my computer.”
“That’s fine.” He slid around the booth to her side, his thigh touching hers. “May I?” he said, indicating her laptop.
She spun it clockwise. That way he wouldn’t have to lean over her to read. Then she sipped her wine and waited for him to finish, ignoring how her body reacted to him being this close. His cologne was too subtle for her to place the scent. But he smelled nice. She tried to breathe him in without being obvious. A little woodsy maybe, an herb she couldn’t put her finger on and… ? She’d make a terrible wine connoisseur. Citrus. Orange? Honestly, spread him on fish and he’d taste delicious. But that could be just her sudden urge to lick him. She swiped her tongue across her bottom lip, inhaling him in again only this time through her mouth. She’d once heard this was how animals did it, to better scent their prey. Bad idea. She had to blink several times to stop her eyelids from fluttering closed. She reached for her wineglass, eager to fill her nose with a scent other than sexy man.
The waiter came by and asked if they’d care for something to eat. She seriously considered ordering anything with enough garlic to knock him out of her head. “No, thank you,” she said, far too lightheaded to consider eating. “Maybe later.”
He told them he’d check up on them in a little while and left. Daniel hadn’t bothered to stop reading. She doubted he’d even noticed the waiter. Something in the article had gotten his devoted attention. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch. “Did you find something?”
“I…I’m not sure,” he said, lifting his gaze from her laptop. “She did a great job of raking his nephew over the coals without implicating the senator. Her commentary on Harrison was bang on. But it’s a sentiment shared by many. She does a good job of expressing who Presley is and what he stands for and reminding everyone he was in active service during the Lebanese Civil War.”
“He served four years?”
“I guess. Jessie’s article points out he came home in time to see his son take his first steps. A son who was murdered by a would-be rapist seventeen years later. If that doesn’t make you wave the flag while pulling on your heart strings, nothing will.”
She was a little taken aback by his sarcasm. The man’s son was killed. “What are you not buying?”
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head.
But it was more than nothing and she gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying it.
“Fine. The Stantons are a very powerful family. Not just Presley and his political connection. I don’t doubt for a second that someone, most likely Lyle,” he said with apparent derision, “paid off judges. The senator may be innocent, but he must be aware of what his family has done and gotten away with. In my mind that doesn’t make him an innocent bystander.”
“I agree with you. But he’s super devoted to that granddaughter of his. Maybe that family bond spreads to the rest of the clan? Or he’s not willing to risk his career by admitting his family sucks. Either way, I guess he’s choosing to wear blinders.”
“Wouldn’t Jessie know that? I mean, how naïve is your friend?”
“Don’t confuse her being nice with being stupid. That’s what makes this confusing. She’d have come to the same conclusion you did. He knew and wasn’t pointing fingers.”
“Then why write the article with this tone?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. If we figure that out, maybe we’ll have a clue as to why she disappeared.”
“What are the odds he knows what happened to Jessie?”
“I’m still reeling from the fact they knew each other.” That still hurt, but more importantly, it worried the crap out of her. Why hadn’t Jessie told her?
“Did you figure that out?”
“You were right. It was dumb to assume she was sleeping with him. That doesn’t make sense and it’s not at all like her. I googled that town she grew up in. It’s only fifty miles from here. I knew she was from around this part of Texas. I just didn’t realize how close she was to San Antonio and the Stanton Ranch. I called in a favor from a friend of mine. She found old yearbooks from the high school Jessie went to, Petersen something. The senator’s kid, the one who was killed. They were two years apart in school, probably friends? I know her father was the town minister and she told me a few stories that didn’t speak highly of the town. Her parents were killed in a car accident.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. When did they die?”
“Oh, must be four months now. She wouldn’t even let me go to the funeral with her, even though I knew she was devastated. She kept saying if she’d been a better daughter, they’d still be alive. God was punishing her. Which was stupid. She was a great daughter. Grief, I guess. It makes us say all kinds of things. I remember being told my dad had been shot and how I’d reacted. Imagine losing both your parents.”
Cowboy could indeed imagine losing both his parents. He’d lost his entire family. True, he’d done it to himself. He could have stuck around, taken what was coming to him. Maybe they would’ve believed he’d been acting in Jessie’s defense. But Texas had stopped treating fourteen-year-olds who’d taken a life as children. If they’d found him guilty, he’d have gone to a maximum-security penitentiary for adults. Lyle Stanton would have made sure of it.
“None of this is helping to find Jessie. And it doesn’t explain why she didn’t tell me she knew the family.”
He suspected he knew the answer to that. Grace was a good reporter. She might have seen right through Jessie’s bullshit, if she’d spun it as bullshit. It was obvious Jessie had been keeping her assault to herself. She’d have had to lie to her best friend, so better to say nothing at all. He could respect that. “But it does make you wonder why she slanted the article in the senator’s favor.”
“You think she was coerced? Why? I mean, another article by a relatively unknown reporter isn’t going to make or break his career.”
“I don’t have the answers. Why don’t we order some lunch and then we can try to retrace Jessie’s footsteps?” He had to do what he was paid to do, and he doubted that he could let Jessie’s disappearance go, any more than Grace could.
“My father did that already. He said nothing jumped out.”
“People can get nervous when talking to cops. They tend to…forget.” Especially if they had something to hide. He lifted a hand and drew the waiter’s attention.
“I’m not hungry,” she said. “But you go ahead.”
“Then let’s go.” He closed her laptop for her, having already taken care of the bill before she’d arrived. He didn’t mind a woman paying for his drinks, but when he was working, he much preferred Ryan did it. He grabbed the picture he’d printed and handed her a copy, keeping one for himself. “We’ll need something to show people.”
“Where did you get this?” she asked, her question barely audible if he hadn’t expected it.
“Facebook.”
“But none of us are friends. You can’t see my pics unless we’re friends,” she said, never taking her eyes off the photo of her and Jessie and that birthday cake.
“No, but you are friends with Josh. I asked him to send one to me,” he lied. “Whose birthday was this?”
“Mine. She threw me a surprise party last year. I hate surprises,” she said running a finger over the photo. “But she did it anyway, saying I needed fun in my life and nothing screamed fun like thirty people crowded into your apartment and scaring the pants off you by shouting happy birthday.”
“Was she right?”
“No,” she laughed, finally looking up. “But I didn’t tell her that. It made her happy, so I guess it made me happy.”
“You’re not into spontaneity?”
“I’m not against it, but I prefer having control. Less chance of being surprised that way.”
Maybe if he’d been more like her, things would have turned out differently when he’d come upon Stanton raping Jessie. Oh, he’d have definitely done something. He might have been only a kid, but no way would he have stood by and let it continue. But Stanton had had at least forty pounds and a foot on him. The rock had been the only solution his fourteen-year-old mind had registered. He hadn’t meant to kill him, just get him off her. Unfortunately, he’d proved his father right and hadn’t really used his brain. No, he’d reacted with emotion, the bane of his childhood years. “I guess there’s something to be said for wanting control of your life, but what you can’t do is control what happens around you.”
“No, that’ s true, but I can try.” She smiled, slipping the picture of her and Jessie into her bag.
Cowboy didn’t buy it. She might know the world around had a will of its own, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from trying to tame it.
* * *
Their first stop was the restaurant where Jessie had told Grace she was going to eat breakfast. Having already talked to the police the waitress on duty knew exactly who they were asking about. Her dark eyes scrutinized them.
“A young black woman disappears and everyone is interested. Why?” the forty-something waitress asked, a strong note of distrust in her question. “Folks don’t normally stand up and take notice when one of us go missing.”
Cowboy could understand her skepticism. It was the “everyone” that set off alarms. “Who else has been asking questions?”
“Please,” Grace pleaded, pulling out the picture and showing it to the woman. “She’s my roommate and my best friend. We’re trying to find her. She’s a good person—the best person—and her time may be running out.”
Looking down at the photo in Grace’s hands, the woman seemed to accept Grace’s explanation. “I’ll tell you what I told everyone else. She came in, ordered pancakes and coffee, ate, and left. The record says she paid at nine fifteen. That’s all I know.”
“You mentioned ‘everyone,’” Cowboy said, wanting to remind her.
“A guy came in shortly after the police. Asking the same questions.”
“Did you notify the police?” Grace asked.
“No. Didn’t think I had to,” she said, not liking the inference she should have. “He said he’d been hired to find her.”
“Do you remember what he looked like?” Who else was looking for her?
“You know that Men in Black movie? Like that. What you’d expect Secret Service to look like, only this guy didn’t have the suit. He was white, bald, red hair and I couldn’t tell you the eye color ’cause he wore shades the entire time he was here. Tall man whose mother didn’t teach him any manners.”
“If he was bald how to you know he was a redhead?” Cowboy asked.
“He had one of those stupid beards guys are sporting. You know the lumberjack wannabes. Can’t stand that look on a man. Makes you think they’re trying to hide something. It’s why I didn’t tell him she got a phone call when she was here.”
“Did you tell the police that?”
“I remembered after they left. I figured they’d have access to her phone records.”
“Did you notice anything funny about the call? Her reaction, I mean,” he asked.
“No, sorry. I was taking someone else’s order when I heard her answer her phone. She’d asked for a top up but after I’d told Tommy, that’s our cook, my new order and then went to fill her cup, she waved me off, put a twenty on the counter, and left. I guess that means she wasn’t keen on whoever made the call.”
He didn’t know if he agreed with that observation but it did sound like she’d left in a hurry. “Thank you. We appreciate your help.”
Grace echoed his sentiment and they left.
Outside, Grace offered her own opinion on the call. “Unless someone faked her text to me earlier than we suspect, Jessie wasn’t upset by the call.”
He’d thought the same thing. “She messaged you after she’d eaten and told you she was going shopping.”
“Precisely. How off-putting could the call have been?”
“Right, but more importantly, who else is looking for her?”
“That one I know.”
That surprised him. “You do?”
“My father hired a special investigator to help out with his case. It had to be him.”
“Since when do the cops hire out?” And what the hell was Irvine up to?
“They don’t. My father did it for me. I overheard him on the phone.” She went on to explain, looking a little guilty. “There’s this agency called ICU. I did some digging. On the surface they appear… sketchy. I’m not sure if they do that on purpose, to throw people off. But they have an amazing track record. Did you ever hear about that rum heiress who was kidnapped in Colombia? Her father was a U.S. citizen? It was a few years back.”
He hadn’t been an integral part of that mission, but he had flown everyone back to Florida. He shook his head.
“Well, it doesn’t matter. But the rumor had it ICU mounted that rescue.”
“And you think they’ve been brought in to find Jessie? I doubt a company like that comes cheap.”
“No, it doesn’t, but I think my dad called in a favor. That’s what it sounded like anyway. I didn’t hear everything.”
And for that he was grateful. If she had overheard correctly, he wouldn’t be standing here right now. And he wanted to be standing here. Stupid considering what he had to lose should anyone figure out who he was and start asking questions as to why he left.
“Let’s hit the mall. Then you and I can buy clothes for the party.” Or rather Ryan could buy them both outfits. The SOB might complain, but he’d fork out the cash either way. The man was generous. Cowboy couldn’t fault him there. Elsewhere for sure, but not his wallet.
* * *
At the mall, Cowboy had debated telling Grace they should separate. He knew exactly the stores Jessie had shopped at, thanks to Monty. Instead, he chose the nonchalant approach to which stores they entered. Grace knowing Jessie’s tastes helped, and she’d been bang on, even at the stores where no purchase had been made.
“She bought me boots,” Grace said after they’d left the shoe store.
“How do you know they weren’t for her?”
“Shoe size. Jessie’s a size six, she bought a seven and a half. What did she think I was going to do with pink cowboy boots?” She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips.
“I’m sorry we didn’t find anything to lead us to her.”
“We tried,” she said, clearly disappointed.
“We’ll figure this out.” But it was wrong of him to assure her of anything. He wasn’t convinced they’d find Jessie alive. He mentally slapped himself. Starting to think of them as a team wasn’t a good idea.
“You know, Jessie collected these glass figurines. She had them all over the apartment. There’s a shop in this mall that he might have gone in.”
“It’s worth a shot.” She hadn’t bought any, but she could’ve window shopped.
The boutique store was on the first floor and clearly not designed for a man of his stature. Not wanting to break anything, he waited outside. Ten minutes later he found himself holding his breath and praying to anything and everything holy that the woman coming toward him with Grace didn’t recognize him.
“Daniel, this woman says she knows Jessie. Can you believe it?” Grace said, obviously thrilled with having made the connection. “This is… I’m sorry,” she said, “I’ve forgotten your name already.”
“Lois,” the woman smiled at Cowboy. “Lois Danielle.”
His mother.
Grace grinned, completely unaware of what this was doing to Cowboy.
“Funny, you two share a name.”
He didn’t feel like laughing, but a part of him, the stupid part, was glad to see his mom. She’d changed since his father’s funeral, the laugh lines around her eyes more pronounced, but then he hadn’t been this close to her. Although, greying hair and all, she was still beautiful. At sixty-two, she didn’t look a day over fifty, and never one to shy away from hard work, she had a physique far better than women half her age.
“Jessie’s dad was Mrs. Danielle’s pastor. She recognized her from the picture I showed the sales lady. By the way, the woman is full-time and doesn’t recall Jessie going in there. But this nice lady saw Jessie at a gas station on the 410, you know, close to where we just were?”
Yeah, he got her meaning. His mother was at the station Monty had spoken of. He nodded, unable to speak, his heart was pounding so damn hard. Would she know him? Did mothers instinctively recognize their kids no matter how much they’d changed?
“You’re…” his mother said, sending his pulse into overdrive as her brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re very tall,” she finally finished with an awkward smile.
Had she seen the kid he’d once been and thankfully couldn’t reconcile it with the man who stood before her? How should he stand? What expression should he wear? How fast could he get away from her? And how did he stop himself from throwing his arms around her and asking for forgiveness? “Yes ma’am” was all he managed to say.
“Mrs. Danielle thinks Jessie looked upset.”
“Oh?” he said, afraid his curiosity would be his undoing. He needed to get away from her.
“Yes. When I asked her what was wrong she just smiled, putting on a brave face, I think, and said it was nothing. Mind you she wasn’t as upset as the last time I’d seen her. Of course, then it had been understandable. She was burying both of her parents. A very sad day for all of us who loved them. Senator Stanton himself had come to pay his respects. I hear tell he even paid for the funeral.”
Grace and Cowboy exchanged the same what the hell look.
“That was generous of him,” Grace said, managing to recover far faster than he.
“Yes, but before politics took him away, his family was there every Sunday. His mother was especially active in the church. I guess he felt it was his duty since he owns half the town.”
Although he never remembered it bothering his mom before, it seemed to bother her now.
“He promised to use all his resources to help find the man who’d struck their car, but nothing came of it. It looks like God will have to deal with him when his time comes.”
“I don’t understand,” Grace said. “Jessie told me her parents were in a car accident.”
“They were. They were run off the road and into oncoming traffic. We assumed it was a drunk driver too afraid to stop or come forward with what they’d done. We’ll never know. Well, I best be on my way. I hope you find her. Jessie is a lovely girl and I’ll pray for her.”
Grace thanked his mother and nodded. Cowboy watched her leave, the ache he’d long ago thought gone returned with a vengeance. The ache and the guilt for what he’d done. How he’d left her wondering what had happened to her son.
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said, taking Grace’s hand and tugging her toward the exit.
“Aren’t we going to talk about what the woman said? Why did Stanton pay for the funeral?”
“I don’t know, but maybe it’s like she said. He felt it was his duty. If they owned half the town, maybe they’d built the church too.” They had, of course, along with the small hospital and an elementary school.
“Okay, then why did Jessie not tell me her parents were involved in a hit and run?”
“I can’t tell you that. Maybe she didn’t want to talk about it.”
“We talked about everything.”
Not everything. “I don’t know, Grace. She was your friend.” He wanted out of this mall and far away from his mother.
“And I thought we were shopping,” she said once they were outside.
“We are, but not here.” He wanted to do something nice. Grace deserved it, and what said nice better than a designer dress? Ryan didn’t know the bullet he’d just dodged. This shopping spree was on Cowboy.