Thirty-Five and a Half Conspiracies
Page 42

“I don’t know. That part is worrisome.”
“Neely Kate isn’t handling it very well, Mason. In fact, she’s staying here tonight and possibly indefinitely. She can’t stay in that house, not when Ronnie’s gone and the nursery is still decorated for her lost babies.”
“She can stay as long as she likes,” he said softly. “You know you don’t need my permission. It’s your house, sweetheart.”
“I may own it, but it’s ours. And I knew you would say yes, but in hindsight, perhaps I should have cleared it with you first.”
“No. It sounds like a spur of the moment situation. I’m glad she has you.”
“Me too.”
“I still don’t feel right leaving you alone tonight, but I’m glad you’ll have Neely Kate with you.”
“I’m worried about you too, but we both have our jobs to do tonight.”
“What job do you have to do?”
Oh crap. “Look up the courier, of course. And call your mother.”
“It shouldn’t take too long for you to identify him now that you have the belt lead. Maybe you and Neely Kate can have a girl’s night at home and watch some sappy rom-com.”
We were definitely having a girl’s night, but it wouldn’t be much like the one he was envisioning. “Yeah, we’ll figure something out.”
“I love you, Rose. I wouldn’t leave you alone overnight if I didn’t think this was important.”
“I know. And I love you too. Come back to me safe.”
“I should be home by tomorrow afternoon. I’ll let you know how the meeting goes.”
“Okay. Good luck.” After I hung up, I finished some more preparations for the soup and headed to the office.
I pulled up The Henryetta Gazette on my laptop, then searched for last summer’s Fenton County Rodeo. It took about three seconds to find photos of the winners. Sure enough, I found the guy in the pic Neely Kate had sent me: Sam Teagen, calf-roping champion. He stood in front of the camera, holding up his belt buckle with a cocky grin that told the world he was used to getting his way.
I plugged his name into Facebook next. His profile came up right away, and to my relief, his page seemed to be set to public. There were only a few photos of his friends, but there were plenty of pictures of his rodeo events. Surely that would be helpful. I copied down the links to the rodeo article and the guy’s Facebook profile and texted them to Mason.
All within ten minutes.
Mason was right. My task, like his, had been almost too easy.
I got up and checked on the potatoes. The water hadn’t even begun to boil yet, which meant I probably had a good half hour before it would be ready. The sun was close to setting, and my little dog had been sorely neglected, so I decided I’d take Muffy for a quick walk.
“Muffy, wanna go for a walk?”
She’d been asleep in her dog bed, but she perked up at the sound of her name and began to dance around my feet. I wrote a quick note for Neely Kate, grabbed my coat, patting the pocket to make sure I still had my Taser, and headed out the front door.
I loved my house at this time of day, when the land seemed to hover between day and night. My farm was far enough from town that the night sky lit up with millions of stars, but the daylight was always bound and determined to hang on as long as it could. I couldn’t see the horizon because of all the trees lining the highway, but parts of the red and golden glow made their way through the cracks in the foliage, making the bare trees look magical.
At times like these, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like to grow up here—in a warm, cozy house with a loving mother. But Beverly Buchanan had taken that away from me. Her and J.R. Simmons.
How much would that man take from me?
Because I knew he wasn’t done. He still wanted more.
Something dark and fierce rose up inside me, a need to protect the people I loved—Mason, Neely Kate, even Violet—no matter what. While I hoped to God Mason was successful in Little Rock, I had a feeling that our success or failure would come down to the Lady in Black. I had the power to bring J.R. Simmons to his knees.
But I was going for his head.
Muffy bounded down the steps and started running circles in the front yard and sniffing the bushes in front of the porch. There was still enough daylight left for us to walk into the fields or the edge of the woods behind the barn. It was close to six o’clock, which meant we still had time to eat dinner, get ready, and meet Jed at the Sinclair station.
“Come on, girl. Let’s explore.”
Muffy understood the word explore as her cue to have free rein on the farm. She took off and ran straight for the barn. I followed along behind her, letting my mind mull over everything we’d learned today. I was still worried about Mason. The threat to his life was real, and if he’d found out something juicy enough to put J.R. away, the elder Simmons was bound to do something about it.
Would it be a job for one of his Twelve?
I still had a hard time believing that Skeeter had ever worked for such a despicable man, although I wasn’t sure why. Skeeter had made no secret of what he was—a criminal. And he didn’t apologize for it either, a trait I found equally disconcerting and enviable. He was a man following a dangerous path, yet he didn’t give two figs what anyone thought about him. How different would my life have been if I’d adopted that same attitude early in life? Of course, I was no Skeeter Malcolm.