Dylan

I HAD JUST closed myself in my room when my cell phone rang. I snagged it off the nightstand and checked the display. Groaning, I accepted the call and said, “Hey, Dad.”

When my dad was sober he was a pretty decent guy, but he was rarely sober.

“Hey princess, how’s the new business going?”

Since admitting our lack of immediate success to my old man was out of the question, I scoured my brain for a way to put a positive spin on our current situation. Forcing a smile I hoped transferred to my tone, I said, “We finally got everything done and the office looks gorgeous. You should see this place.”

“I bet it does,” he replied. “Those Allens were born with a silver spoon in their mouths, after all.”

Dad wasn’t a big fan of my friendship with Addison, and I shuddered to think of what he’d say if he knew about my and Asher’s relationship status. He didn’t trust rich people, and he wanted nothing more than for me to pack my bags, say good-bye to city life, and return to the town I’d grown up in. I couldn’t understand why Dad would want me to move back, when we could barely maintain civil tones for a five-minute phone conversation.

And I wasn’t going to let him throw backhanded compliments at the Allens. “Their spoons are actually platinum, Dad. Silver’s not worth that much anymore.”

I could almost hear him shaking his head on the other end of the line.

Tired of waiting for him to come up with a witty retort, I got down to business. “What’d you call for?”

“A recommendation, actually. You know we don’t have any private investigators in town, but there’s been some theft happening lately.”

My ears perked up. “What kind of theft?”

“Nothing too serious, but some of the seniors have reported missing jewelry.”

“Seniors? As in Grandma?” I asked.

He sighed. “Yeah, your grandma is one of them. She claims someone snuck into her room down at the old folks’ home and took some rings and necklaces and shit.”

My grandma and I weren’t close. My dad was Grandma’s baby and she worshiped the ground he walked on. She’d never forgiven my mother for taking him away from her. And since I was the spitting image of Mom, Grandma wasn’t exactly my biggest fan. Regardless, the idea of someone breaking into her room and stealing her jewelry really pissed me off.

“Is Grandma okay?” I asked.

“She wasn’t there when it happened, but she’s pretty shook up about it. She told the cops, but you know how they are.”

My home town police force was known for their avoidance of action. They mostly hung around the Main Street restaurants, drinking coffee and talking about people. In their defense, Lakeview was a small town where nothing ever happened, so it wasn’t like they had much to do.

“You said there were other seniors who were robbed?” I asked.

“Old Lady Rogers, Ms. Samuelson, Jeff Long’s aunt, a few others.”

“Ms. Samuelson?” I asked. “As in my kindergarten teacher, Ms. Samuelson?”

“The one and only. She still asks about you every time I go in to visit Ma.”

“What kind of asshat would steal from Ms. Samuelson?” I asked.

Where Grandma was an opinionated old goat who didn’t care about anyone’s feelings, Ms. Samuelson was a sweet woman with a heart of twenty-four-karat gold. My class had been the last one she taught before she’d retired, and we’d run circles around that poor woman, but she was bound and determined to teach us a thing or two. She had the patience of a saint and the tenacity of a pit bull, and the idea of someone stealing from her made me want to turn into She-Hulk and smash up the guilty party.

“That’s what we’re tryin’ to figure out. In your new line of work, I was hoping you had some recommendations—maybe from the city—who might be able to help us out without charging an arm and a leg.”

“I see.” Admitting I didn’t know anyone in the business would make me sound like a total newbie, so I said, “Let me do some research and get back to you.”

“Thanks, honey. Talk to you soon.” He disconnected.

I needed to talk to Addison, but didn’t know whether or not Jake was still here having their “discussion,” so I tiptoed to my door, cracked it open, and listened for telltale signs like screaming or breaking china. The condo was silent, so I walked out to the living room to find Addison standing in the middle of the foyer staring at the door, her face expressionless.

“Addie?” I asked, glancing around. “Is Jake already gone?” If so, that had to be the shortest fight in history.

She glanced at me, but didn’t answer.

“Are you okay? Did something happen?”

Her chin quivered and a flood of tears poured down her face as she lost her composure and slid to the floor. “Addie?”

“Jake,” she said on a sob.

I hunkered down beside her. “Jake, what? Honey, what’s going on? Is he hurt? Did he get shot?”

“I wish!” she cried, then sobbed anew.

Okay then. I crawled to the coffee table, which wasn’t far, and grabbed a box of tissues, handing it to her. “What happened?”

“Jake...he...he...broke up with me!” she cried.

“What?!” I exclaimed. “Where is he?”

“Gone,” she replied between sobs. “He...he dumped me and took off.”

I swore under my breath and hugged my friend. It was a good thing Jake was gone, because I’d kick him in the teeth if he was still there. Addison cried herself out of tears, and then mopped up the mess and sighed. We sat in silence for a few minutes while I tried to think of something that could cheer her up or distract her. Then I remembered the reason I’d come out to find her in the first place.

I grabbed my laptop and gave Addison a rundown on the conversation I’d had with my dad while I searched for private investigators in Klamath Falls, Oregon. Klamath was about a hundred miles from Lakeview, and despite its population of a whopping twenty-one thousand, it was referred to as “the city,” since it was the closest larger town. I scanned the results of my search, and they did not look promising.

“Why don’t we do it?” Addison asked, still looking a little dazed.

She had to be messing with me. “Are you serious?”.

“Yeah. I turned in everything for our current case to Ethan, and he said he doesn’t have anything else for us yet. To be honest, I’m kinda relieved. I don’t know if I’m ready to take on another divorce case yet after Greg. I’d love to get out of here for a while and finally see your home town.”

“I don’t know, Addie. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Addison fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “Why not?”

“So many reasons. To start with, Lakeview is more than six hours away.”

“We do have cars,” she countered. “Mine’s even dependable.”

“Secondly, the population is two thousand, and it’s in the middle of nowhere. There’s no shopping centers, no fine dining, there aren’t even any hotels. Staying with my dad is off the table, so we’d have to stay in a motel. That’s motel, with an ‘M.’ Have you ever stayed in a motel in your life?”

She suppressed a shudder. “No, but there’s a first time for everything. Besides, it’s not like it would take us forever to solve the case. I can rough it and be a country girl for a few days.”

She said this with a straight face, while sitting on her plush carpet in her million-dollar condo, wearing silk pajamas that required dry cleaning and cost as much as my car, and I lost it. My home town wouldn’t even know what to do with her, and she would probably go into culture shock and die the minute we passed the “Tallest Town in Oregon” sign.

Addison joined me on the sofa. “Stop laughing at me. I could totally survive your home town.”

The hurt look on her face silenced my laughter. “Addie, it’s not you, it’s Lakeview. It’s...difficult to explain. Everyone in town will know we’re there, and we’ll have to deal with my dad, my crazy uncle Ron, my grandma, and that bitch Brandy who used to torment me.”

“It’s been years since you’ve been back, Dylan. People change. Besides, I’d love to meet Brandy right about now. It would give me a chance to work off some of this rage I feel toward Jake.”

I opened my calendar, wishing some important appointment would appear and make it impossible to leave town, but other than plans made with Asher my schedule was depressingly clear. The date piqued my interest, though. “Crap. We can’t go. It’s almost Labor Day.”

“So?” she asked.

“Labor day weekend is when they hold the fair and Roundup. It’s the biggest event the town has each year. The motels are probably all booked up.”

“Roundup? Isn’t that like a rodeo? Is that where you used to barrel race?” she asked.

A few years after Addison and I had become friends, I’d had a moment of insanity and shown her my barrel racing ribbons. She’d called me “Cowgirl” for months afterward, making me want to lobotomize her so she’d give it a rest. I was no cowgirl, at least, not anymore. I’d moved to Portland to get away from that life. Refusing to associate myself with the answer, I replied, “There is barrel racing during the roundup.”

“Ohmigod!” she squealed. “Dylan, this is just what I need to get over Jake.”

Rubbing my temples, I asked, “What is, exactly?”

She looked at me like I was stupid. “Hot cowboys, horseback riding, and a new case. It’s perfect. We will be able to ride horses, right? You know I haven’t ridden in over a year, not since Tizzie died.”

Addison’s beloved Friesian had developed colic and the vets weren’t able to save him. That gelding had helped her win every jumping and dressage competition all over the country for close to ten years. They were inseparable...partly why she hadn’t had the heart to buy another horse.

“I’m sure we can rent a couple of horses. That would actually be fun. I miss riding,” I admitted.

“Great.” She clapped her hands. “Then you can introduce me to all your hot cowboy friends.”

I groaned, wishing she would let it go. I understood Addison’s infatuation with cowboys, because the media romanticized the hell out of them. But the cowboys I knew usually had Copenhagen dripping down their chins and smelled like stale whisky and horse manure. “Addie, a few months ago you couldn’t handle ten minutes in my white-trash apartment, and we’re talking about days—maybe even a week or so—deep in redneck territory.”

“F.Y. information, I was the one who spent almost an hour packing up your apartment. Plus I love you and it’s where you came from, so how bad could it be?”

How bad indeed. “Bad. Trust me on this one.”

“No. I need out of this city for a while, and those little old ladies clearly need our help. We’re going.”

Knowing there was no way I was getting out of it, I sighed. “Fine. When do you want to leave?”