Gabe kept his eyes peeled. He and Rhys had been riding around the backcountry for more than an hour.
“This is where you saw them?”
“Yep.” Rhys parked his SUV next to a tree and pulled a pair of binoculars from the back seat. “It looked as if they’d made camp over there.” He pointed at a thicket of pine trees.
“You think they’re growing pot out here?”
“I didn’t find any evidence of it, but they didn’t look like your garden variety campers, either. But, to be fair, they were too far away for me to get a good enough look. Just a gut feeling.”
Gabe wagged his hand for Rhys to give him the binocs. “You said there were three of them.”
“One was small. Could’ve been a child; another red flag, if you ask me.”
“I can see that. Maybe they’re a homeless family.” Gabe scanned the area but didn’t see anything but trees, leaves, and a few patches of old snow.
“Maybe, but it would be pretty unusual in Nugget. Too cold. If it was one of our own, we would’ve heard about it.”
Rhys was right. If someone had fallen on hard times, the whole town would’ve banded together to help. That’s one of the things Gabe loved about Nugget.
“Looks like they might’ve just been passing through.” Gabe handed him back the binoculars.
“Yup, could be. I’d appreciate you keeping your eyes open, though. Like I said, something about it didn’t feel right. Over the years, I’ve learned to listen to my spidey sense.”
Absolutely. It had saved Gabe’s life more times than he wanted to think about. That eerie chill running up his back or that gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach. In the spec ops world, he’d learned very quickly to pay close attention to that sixth sense. “Roger that.”
Rhys restarted the engine and took the rutted dirt road back in the direction of the highway. “Thanks for coming along. Usually, I’d take Jake, but he and Cecilia took a few days to visit one of his daughters.”
The detective had five of them. All grown, all hot. All wrapped in caution tape as far as Gabe was concerned. Jake was protective, and Gabe wasn’t ready to put a ring on it.
“Cecilia upset about Raylene being here?” he asked Rhys.
“She’s Lucky’s mother, what do you think?”
The way Gabe had heard it was that Cecilia Stryker had practically raised Raylene when she kept house on Rosser Ranch. “She doesn’t seem all that bad to me. Spoiled, maybe, but not as terrible as everyone makes her out to be. And she cares about Logan. I know it wasn’t that way in the beginning, but she’s come around, and I think it’s legit.”
Rhys drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I always suspected that Ray had her wrapped around his little finger. It was a power thing with him, and she was daddy’s little girl.”
“Logan says he abused her.” Gabe was probably talking out of turn, but there were two sides to every story. He’d seen it firsthand, traveling around the world, fighting wars. “I’m not saying that’s an excuse for what she did, but I think she was under his thumb. And later, under Butch’s. Truthfully, I think she was scared to death of her ex-husband, and I don’t think Raylene scares that easy.”
Gabe remembered Denver, when she went nose to nose with Butch as she was leaving him. He suspected she wouldn’t have been so tough if she hadn’t had two former Navy SEALs backing her up. There was a reason she’d called Logan in the first place. At the time, they weren’t on the best of terms.
“I definitely think Butch was calling the shots as far as cutting Logan out of his inheritance. But helping her old man set up Lucky on murder charges…that was cold. Lucky loved her.”
That was the thing. Nothing about Raylene struck him as cold. Self-centered? Yes. Destructive? Maybe. Mean? Gabe didn’t see it. And he’d been up close and personal with some of the meanest hombres on the face of the earth.
“It didn’t work,” Gabe said. In the end, Ray Rosser went to prison for killing that cattle thief and died in his cell.
“Because Jake and I are damn good cops,” Rhys said.
“And modest.” Gabe laughed, because listening to Rhys’ bravado while riding shotgun, armed to the hilt, reminded him of being back in the teams with his brothers.
“For Cecilia, Tawny, and Lucky’s sake, I want her out of here,” Rhys said. “And I’m not the only one. But folks care too much about Annie and Logan to make a scene. So, until they leave on their honeymoon, everyone’ll be on their best behavior. After that, all gloves come off. I wouldn’t put it past Cecilia to run Raylene out of town.”
Gabe sighed. “I hear ya, and I don’t think you’ll have to wait long. As soon as the wedding’s over, I suspect she’ll hit the road. My sense is she’s not feeling the love.”
Rhys chuckled. “She’d have to be pretty warped, otherwise. I hear she talked to Dana today about a buyer for her property.”
“I hadn’t heard, but I’ll take your word for it.” Gabe knew she wanted to unload the property and use the money toward her horse ranch or whatever scheme she was cooking up. It was a valuable piece of land, and with the market the way it was, he wasn’t surprised she had an offer.
“Hopefully it won’t hold her up.” Rhys pulled into the square and parked his SUV in front of the police station. “See you around, Moretti.”
“Later,” Gabe said, and ducked inside the barbershop.
Owen, who’d been threatening to retire ever since Gabe rolled into town last summer, was giving some poor kid a jarhead buzzcut and talking the kid’s father’s ear off about politics. Gabe tuned him out, learning long ago to avoid that subject. Especially with Owen, who got most of what he talked about wrong.
“You got an appointment?”
Gabe scanned the empty waiting room. “No. Since when do I need an appointment?”
“Since I got a date with a new fishing pole.”
“You’re seriously wanting to fish in this?” Gabe stared out the window where the condensation on the rooftops had turned to icicles.
“Toughen up, boy. You’re not in New Jersey anymore.”
Gabe had more than a dozen ways he could respond to that but decided to leave it alone. “You gonna give me a trim or not?” And don’t butcher my hair like you did the kid’s, he wanted to say. But again he left it alone. Diplomacy. He was practicing diplomacy.
“You’re next, then I’m closing the shop for the day.”
“Where’s Darla?” Gabe got a kick out of the hairdresser’s colorful clothes, and she was a lot less surly than her old man, though he got a kick out of him too. Everyone in town had their own unique thing going. It was part of the reason Gabe fell in love with the place.
“It’s her day off. She and Wyatt went to Sacramento to visit her mom.” Owen finished up with the boy and motioned for Gabe to hop in the chair.
He squared up with the kid’s father at the cash register and returned with a clean cape, which he snapped around Gabe’s neck. “You want a shave, too?”
Gabe eyed his chin in the mirror, turning his head from side to side. “What the hell? Go for it.”
“That way you won’t look like a derelict for Annie’s wedding.”
A derelict? Gabe had to suppress an eye roll. “What’s new around here?” The barbershop was gossip central, and Owen was usually king rumor monger. Sometimes he got it right. More often than not, though, he embellished, putting his own bizarre spin on things. Gabe had learned how to muck through the bullshit in order to glean some semblance of the truth.
“That Rosser girl is all anyone is talking about.” Owen pulled a pair of shears from his drawer and started snipping away at Gabe’s sides.
“Not too much.” He covered the side of his head and Owen slapped his hand away. “What’s everyone saying?”
“That she’s selling that land behind Rosser Ranch. Folks are worried about what’ll go in there. No one wants a Hilton.”
Gabe stifled a laugh. A Hilton? As if that was even a remote possibility.
“The Millers are worried a big-box store will come in and put Farm Supply out of business.”
“Nugget’s population won’t support a big box store.” That was the other thing about the good residents of Nugget: they had delusions of grandeur.
“Tell Sam Walton that.”
“Last I looked, he was dead, Owen.”
“You know what I mean.” Owen pinned him with a look. “I’m personally concerned that one of those cults will come in, like them Branch Davidians.”
Where did he cook this shit up? “A Fantastic Sams would be a welcomed addition.” Gabe said it just to get a rise out of Owen.
Owen didn’t take the bait, rambling on about all the possible businesses that would vie for the land, including a pot farm, which Gabe thought was more likely than a cult or a Costco. Realistically, though, someone would probably want the land to run cattle. Gabe wouldn’t be surprised if the offer had come from one of the local ranchers. Clay McCreedy, Flynn Barlow, even Lucky Rodriguez was a good guess.
“That girl planning to stay?” Owen asked.
“Raylene? Nah, she’s going back to LA after the wedding.”
“She sure pulled the wool over our eyes. Back in the day, she was a sweet little thing. Rodeo queen, champion barrel racer, volunteer at the Elks annual pancake breakfast, real active in the community. Even so, Ray was hard on the girl, publicly laying into her enough times to make me wonder what was going on behind closed doors. But what do you do? You can’t go around telling people how to rear their kids.”
Nope, Gabe thought. Not unless you witnessed actual abuse. But in a close-knit town like this…someone should’ve known.
“Back then,” Owen continued, “she and Lucky were attached at the hip. Ray didn’t like his daughter trucking with a Mexican boy, especially since his mama was the help. He never made a secret about it, and to tell you the truth it made me sick.”
Ray Rosser sounded like a grade-A prick. As far as Gabe was concerned, Logan had dodged a bullet when Rosser refused to claim him as his son. Raylene, not so much. She’d had the misfortune of being groomed by Ray to be his protégée.
It told Gabe more than he wanted to know. He’d always had a soft spot for the misunderstood—not that he was ready to give Raylene the benefit of the doubt. But there was definitely more to the spoiled rich girl than everyone saw. Everyone but Logan. And Gabe had always found his partner to be a good judge of character.
“There you go.” Owen twirled the chair around and gave Gabe a hand mirror so he could get a view of the back of his head.
“Looks good.”
“You’ll pass muster.” Owen lathered up Gabe’s chin and reached for a straight-edge razor.
“Don’t get too wild with that thing.”
Owen laughed. “I’ve been shaving men since before you were born.”
The barber certainly knew his stuff. Closest shave Gabe ever had.
Outside, the cold stung his face as he walked to his SUV. It was still too early to head over to the farm, and he wasn’t in the mood for paperwork. Out of obligation—at least that’s what he told himself—he called Raylene.
“You at Logan’s?”
“I’m in my truck, in the driveway. Logan’s parents just got here.”
“Go in and introduce yourself,” he told her.
“Scared.”
Gabe’s lips tipped up. Nick was a badass, and could be daunting as hell, but that’s not what Raylene was afraid of, Gabe knew. It was Maisy, though Raylene had nothing to fear. Even if Maisy wasn’t the sweetest woman on earth, she was the one who’d been the so-called homewrecker. Raylene hadn’t even been born when Ray started his affair with Logan’s mom. “Meet me for lunch, then.”
“Why?”
“Gotta eat.”
“Okay. Where?”
“You’ve got two choices.”
Raylene groaned. “Fine, the Ponderosa. I’m not eating at the Bun Boy. Ever.”
Gabe laughed. It was too cold anyway. The burger drive-through only had outdoor seating. And the Ponderosa had sort of become his home away from home when he wasn’t loitering at Logan and Annie’s. Although his little apartment had a full kitchen, he never touched it. “I’m right outside the restaurant. I’ll grab us a table.”
Gabe crossed the square and felt the warm air as soon as he entered the restaurant.
“Hey, Gabe.” Today it was Mariah, Sophie’s other half, working hostess duties. Gabe didn’t say “better” because the dynamic duo were both great. Smart, beautiful, sophisticated, older, and, unfortunately, not into men.
“What’s happening?”
“You tell me.”
“Oh, you know, wedding twenty-four seven.”
She laughed. “I’m looking forward to it.”
He ordered a plate of super nachos and a beer and read the Nugget Tribune on his phone while he waited for Raylene. He wondered what she’d been up to all day, besides her meeting at the real estate office.
Ten minutes later, she swept into the Ponderosa in her rhinestone jeans and her turquoise cowboy boots. No frog hogs at McPatrick’s in Coronado ever dressed like that. Their look ran more toward spray tans, bikini tops, and flip-flops, which Gabe liked just fine. But Raylene…let’s just say he was growing partial to cowgirls.
“You want a beer?” He started to call a server over but Raylene stopped him.
“I’ll get a cup of coffee when the waiter takes our order.” She took off her jacket and hung it on a hook on the wall.
“So you ran out before meeting Maisy, huh?”
“I got a decent look at her coming out of the Winnebago. She’s different than I expected.” She unwrapped the scarf around her neck and draped it over an extra chair.
Gabe made a Herculean effort not to check out her rack—and failed. “How’d you think she’d be?”
“I don’t know, kind of slutty.”
Gabe would’ve laughed, except they were talking about Logan’s mom, a woman he happened to adore. “Cut her a break, Ray. She was barely out of her teens when she met your old man. According to Logan, he seduced her, not the other way around.”
Raylene shrugged, her mouth forming an affected pout that had probably won over more than a fair share of men. But Gabe saw right through it. Her whole self-entitled schtick was nothing but an act. Armor for the insecure.
“I heard you had a meeting with Dana McBride this morning.”
She flipped through Gabe’s menu. “Word always did travel fast in Bumfuck.”
The nachos came and Gabe handed her one of the small plates the server had left on the table. “What else did you do?”
She took a sip of water and stared at him over the rim of the glass. “Trespassed.”
“Yeah?” He arched a brow, trying to act disapproving when for him B&E was just another day at work. “Where?”
“Rosser Ranch.” She scooped up one of the cheese-laden chips, dipped it in a mound of guacamole, and popped it in her mouth.
“I hear Flynn Barlow is a good shot.” He and his wife, Gia Treadwell, owned Rosser Ranch now. While Flynn wouldn’t shoot Raylene on sight, he wouldn’t be too happy about her roaming his property. “What were you doing over there?”
“Checking it out.”
This was exactly the reason Logan had put Gabe on Raylene duty. Leave the woman alone long enough and she’d cause an international incident.
“Not the best idea, don’t you think?”
“It was my ranch first.” She pouted again, and Gabe got the sense she was lying. Not about the ranch being hers first—that was uncontested—but about how she’d spent the day. She was trying to throw him off.
“What’d you think of that new addition they put on the house?”
“Tacky.”
Yeah, she was lying, all right. There was no new addition. The place was already large enough to fit an entire battalion. Raylene was up to something, and his sixth sense told him that whatever it was, it was no good.
He arched a brow. “Tacky, huh?”
Raylene started to say something, then her attention snapped to the front of the restaurant, where Tawny Rodriguez had just come through the door. A couple sitting by the window, wearing matching bear hoodies, waved to her. She waved back and walked straight to the bar, presumably to pick up a takeout order.
That was the thing about a small town: you couldn’t avoid your enemies.
“Shit,” Raylene muttered.
“Are you planning to kiss me again?”
She snorted and snatched up the menu to hide her face, trying to make herself as small as possible.
Gabe tilted his head. “With those turquoise boots, she can see you from a mile away.” Especially because Tawny was a boot designer and had footwear radar. Her custom shit-kickers donned the feet of celebrities, athletes, and a veritable who’s who of the West. And probably the East, North, and South. “I’m guessing those”—he pointed at her feet—“are not hers.”
“Good guess, New Jersey,” she sneered. “Tell me when she’s gone.”
“Seriously? You’re going to sit in the corner and cower? I thought you were tough, Ray.”
She gave him a middle-finger salute, then feigned interest in the condiment caddy. He scarfed down a few more nachos, took a swig of beer, and waited for Tawny to leave before declaring the coast clear.
“What are you planning to do at the wedding? Hole up in the head?” Between Maisy and Tawny, Raylene was already running scared.
She let out a breath. “I haven’t figured it out yet.” She swiped a chip and pointed it at him. “I’m trying not to make a spectacle out of myself. Believe it or not, what you saw in Denver isn’t who I am.”
Who was she kidding? From everything Gabe had heard—and seen—it was exactly who she was. “Really? Folks are still talking about your episode at the Gas and Go.”
“I was drunk.”
“It’s okay, Ray, we’ve all done our fair share of regrettable things.” Lord knew he had. One of his had been a redhead with a pissed off boyfriend. He’d like to say another was babysitting the blonde across the table, but he was enjoying himself too much.
“Like what?” She sat up.
“I went off to war and made my mama cry.”
She rolled her eyes. “You steal that from a country-western song, New Jersey?”
“I don’t listen to that shit. Classic rock, mainly.” He leaned across the table and brushed tortilla chip crumbs from her sweater. “I got my high school sweetheart pregnant.” He never talked about it, but the words had tumbled out of his mouth, and now he was stuck with them.
“And let me guess, you joined the Navy to do your patriotic duty and stuck her with a kid to raise, alone.”
“Cynic doesn’t look good on you, Ray. Actually, Bianca lost the baby, then I ran off to join the Navy.” That wasn’t the whole story, but that was all he was telling her.
They both had their secrets. And tomorrow he was going to find out what hers were.