Chapter Twenty-Nine
“So you’re clear on what we need you to do, right?” Charlie set a bottle of Coke on the bar in front of Dwight.
He took a long swig and wiped the corner of his mouth with the ragged hem of his shirt. “Crystal. Pick him up at the airport and bring him straight to you at the Rose.”
“How hard can it be, Charlie? Even Dwight can handle this.” Darby pulled her keys out of her purse. “Now come on, we’ve got to get down to the sheriff’s office so we can finish up the float.”
Charlie sighed. She’d had second thoughts about sending Dwight on an errand of this magnitude. But what other choice did she have? Beck’s flight would land at the Austin airport in about two hours. He’d sent her a text telling her he needed to talk to her about something important. Wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what that was about. He probably wanted to give her a heads-up so she could be the one to break the news to the town. He’d made a deal with the devil on the Rose, and as soon as the parade was over, Beckett Holiday Jr. would come in and change everything.
Beck was the one who’d be getting the surprise though. She and Darby were sending Dwight to fetch him, so they could get their hands on him first. If she couldn’t talk some sense into him, she vowed she’d sit on him if she had to, just to keep him from getting on the parade float tomorrow. No parade meant no Rose for Beck. If Dwight would come through, they’d all end up smelling like roses.
She rested her hand on Dwight’s arm. “Call me if anything goes wrong, okay?”
Darby smacked her gum. “Come on, now. We’re already running behind.”
“Thanks, Dwight. I really appreciate it.” Charlie gave him an awkward half hug and called out to Shep. “We’re heading out. See you in a bit.”
“Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of the sorry sack of shit.” Dwight popped a toothpick in the corner of his mouth and lifted his eyebrows.
Charlie’s stomach rolled over. Every part of her screamed that she’d regret putting her trust in Dwight. She hadn’t had much of a choice. She couldn’t bring one of her brothers in on her plan. They’d rat her out to her dad. Hopefully no one would find out until it was too late.
She followed Darby out the back door, past the shiny new paint job. Sully would have been so disappointed. She was glad he’d passed on to a better place. Where the Lone Star always flowed and the Rose would always be pink. And if she had something to do with it, that would be the way things would stay.
She just had to get through the next twenty-four hours. She’d made her bed and now had to lie in it. Even if that meant sleeping alone for the rest of her life.
* * *
The August heat hit him like walking straight into a barbecue pit. New York had its share of humidity, but this? This was an entirely new level of hell. Beck tapped his boot on the sidewalk, waiting for Dwight. He’d sent a text earlier saying he had to be in Austin for something and would pick him up for the ride back to Holiday. Beck could have politely declined but figured he could pump the guy for information on the ninety-mile drive.
Dwight’s truck cut across two lanes of traffic and came to a stop next to him. Before he could toss his bag in the back, Dwight got out and walked around the truck.
“Howdy, pardner. Glad to have you back.” Dwight clapped him on the back with one hand and reached for his suitcase with the other.
Beck yanked open the door and climbed up onto the bench seat.
Dwight hopped in and eased the truck away from the curb. “Thirsty? I brought you some water for the drive.”
“No, thanks. Maybe in a little bit.” He’d hydrated on the plane, and he didn’t want to take the time to make any extra stops on the way. His top priority was getting to Charlie in time to fill her in on his plans.
Once he’d made up his mind, he couldn’t wait to tell her. He’d almost caved and called her last night but wanted to talk to her in person. Being this close and still so far away was the worst kind of torture.
“Ya have a nice flight?”
“Yeah, sure. How have things been around here?” Making small talk with Dwight might literally make him lose his mind.
“Swell. Been a little weird with Charlie not working at the Rose. Business is down a bit. Folks around there don’t like change, y’know.”
Beck nodded. That little nugget of information had become abundantly clear over the past few months. If he’d only listened to Charlie in the first place. She’d told him not to replace their Lone Star with an out-of-town craft brew. She’d practically drowned him in mud when he accidentally entered a boar into the pig beauty pageant and ended up leaving her with the first pregnant mascot the Rose had ever had.
Thank God she’d believed him when he’d told her the white paint had been a mistake. He’d heard enough about it from Shep. The locals were still staging sit-ins and distributing flyers all over town. Their tagline of “Don’t Drink Till It’s Pink” did have a bit of a ring to it. Once he made it through the festivities of the weekend, Charlie could paint the building whatever color she wanted. He’d even help. The thought sent a charge of anticipation through him. What would it take to get Dwight to drive faster?
“Gotta stop for gas. You sure you don’t want anything?” The truck swerved off the highway, and Dwight slowed to a crawl.
Beck leaned over and checked the gas gauge. “You’ve got half a tank. That’s more than enough.”
“Gauge is broken. I was supposed to fix it this afternoon but had to run to Austin for a part instead.”
Great, just great. At the rate they were going, it would be nighttime when they got there. The Founder’s Day festivities would be in full swing, and he probably wouldn’t get Charlie to himself until she was too tired to stand up straight.
Dwight stopped next to a pay-at-the-pump spot, climbed down, and disappeared inside the convenience store without starting the gas pump. Beck hopped out and swiped his credit card, then inserted the nozzle into the tank. By the time the truck had filled up, Dwight still hadn’t come out of the store, so Beck headed inside. Dwight sat in a hard, laminated booth with a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, flipping through the pages of a magazine.
“Dwight. What are you doing?”
“I’m tired. Been helping out at the Rose, working overnights at the station. I needed some caffeine, y’know?” He wiped his hands over his eyes, emphasizing his words.
“Give me the keys. I’ll drive.” Beck held out a hand, fully expecting Dwight to toss him the keys.
Dwight bit his lip, then shot out of his seat and out the door. “Damn. Keys are in the truck.”
Beck followed, catching up to him as he climbed down from the running board.
“Yep. Keys are locked in the truck. Crap, wonder how long that’s going to take?” He rolled his eyes, and a flash of something crossed his face. Almost looked like smug relief.
But why would Dwight be relieved at the delay? Beck peered in through the window. The keys sprawled on the driver’s side floor mat.
“That sucks, huh?” Dwight shook his head. “Probably be a couple hours before someone can run up here with the spare set.”
“Did you just toss those in the cab?” He could have sworn they weren’t there when he got out of the truck.
Dwight’s eyebrows knit together. “What kind of crazy talk is that? Wanna grab something to eat at the diner?” He gestured toward the café attached to the truck stop.
What was he playing at? Was he trying to keep him away from Charlie? “You go ahead. I’m going to see if I can get a locksmith or something.”
“Want me to order you a bite?” Dwight licked his lips and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “Might be a while.”
“Sure. You pick, okay?”
“You got it.” Smiling, Dwight turned toward the café.
With the Jackass out of the way, Beck surveyed the parking lot. In the sea of semis, pickups, and work trucks, there had to be someone who could jimmy the lock on an old truck. A giant custom RV rolled past, revealing the answer to his prayers—a late-model cargo van with J&B’s Locksmith Service on the side. Beck crossed his fingers and started across the parking lot.