Timber Creek
Page 46

Thirty-six
Eddie peeled into the tavern parking lot. He’d screwed up. Big-time.
He owed Laura a big apology. What he should’ve done was greet her news with congratulations. She’d apparently been offered some plum job, but instead of telling her he was proud, he’d acted pissy.
Sure, he could’ve asked questions, maybe raised doubts—hell, they could’ve had a little debate and resolved it back at his place. So why hadn’t he? If he really thought about it—and there’d been little else he had thought about last night—it was jealousy that’d made him act like such a giant baby.
He loped up the steps. The real truth was, he’d follow Laura all the way to New York City, if that was what it took to be with her. He’d tell her so, immediately and in no uncertain terms.
“You just missed her,” Helen said as he came in.
Still, he looked around, as if she might be mistaken.
“You came looking for Miss Thang, right?”
He finally focused on her. “Hey, Helen. Yeah, I’m looking for Laura.” He needed to get himself together, act like a normal human being. “Sorry…you said she left?” He checked the clock—he’d barely slept and felt situated somewhere out of time—but it was still early, just past eight. And he thought he’d be too early. What time had she left to beat him out the door? “What time?”
Helen resumed clearing a table of its plates, cutlery, and empty cups. “I got in just after six. It was a little after that.”
“Where’d she go? She’s not gone gone, is she?” Maybe she’d run out and would be back in a minute. But at the crack of dawn? He couldn’t wrap his mind around the notion that she’d simply disappear overnight. She’d need to say good-bye to people. She wouldn’t just leave without a trace.
Helen shrugged. “She looked pretty gone to me.”
He plopped into the nearest chair. He was numb. “Got it. Thanks, Helen.”
Of course she was gone for good—it was Laura they were talking about. The great disappearing woman. Master of the getaway.
She came over with a carafe. “You look like you could use some coffee.”
“Why not?” Maybe she’d hit him over the head with it—sure would hurt less.
“Sorry, Eddie.” She filled up his cup and brought him creams and sugars.
“Me, too, Helen.” He couldn’t believe it. He’d spent his life bemoaning how elusive the pretty Bailey girl was, and this time, he’d been the one to send her packing. “Looks like I screwed up big-time.” Every nasty thing she’d ever said about him—a Neanderthal…a delinquent…an unsophisticated, uncivilized brute—he’d proven it all true. In front of a crowd, no less.
He realized Helen was still standing there. Had she said something? He was like the walking dead. “Sorry, what?”
“I said, can I get you something to eat?”
“Sure.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, considering it. He had to eat—if he’d eaten something last night, he didn’t remember it now, and neither did his stomach. “How about some eggs.” He needed a plan, and food would help. “Three, scrambled hard. Side of bacon.” He tore open a bunch of sugar packets and dumped them into his coffee. It was shaping up to be one hell of a morning, and he’d throw everything he could at it. “Maybe some home fries. Toast, too. What else…”
“Kitchen sink?”
“Huh?” He looked up and she was smiling down at him. He sighed. “Yeah, throw in the kitchen sink, too, would you?” He’d need to claw his way out of this hole if he was going to be any good to anyone.
When Helen came back with the first of several plates, he forced himself to make small talk, which was clearly what the woman wanted. He asked after Ellie. She asked after the ranch. They avoided talk of Laura and Rob and fistfights.
His eggs and toast were up, and as she brought him a bottle of ketchup and a little bowl filled with jellies, she asked, “So, you off to the ranch today, or is the project dead for good?”
He spread a big gob of strawberry jelly on a triangle of toast. “What do you mean?”
“The owls. I heard about Timber Creek having some nesting thing. I just assumed…” She began to look panicked.
What the hell? He made a split-second decision to play along. “Oh, that. Yeah.” If she knew something she wasn’t supposed to know, he didn’t want to scare her off. Ever since Rob called the ranch project sketchy, it’d nagged him. “The nesting thing,” he repeated. Whatever the hell that meant. Rob had overheard something—was this it? And had he discussed it with his wife? “Where’d you hear about it?”
“Laura and Sorrow were talking about it,” she said. “I guess your ranger brother was the one who found the nests?”
“Something like that.” His mind raced to put it all together. Had Laura discovered something about those owls? But it couldn’t have been Scott who’d told her. His brother would flip his lid if he thought they were doing construction on some endangered habitat.
“I’ve never seen baby owls before,” Helen went on. “Do you think I could bring Ellie by when she’s better? It seems crazy that something like a few nests could stop a whole hotel from being built, but Laura knows, I guess. And, I tell you, I’d be pissed, too, if I were you.”
“Pissed?”
“I assume that’s why you two were fighting. She shut you down.”
No, she didn’t. She hadn’t breathed a word of it. She could have shut his whole project down, but she’d obviously sacrifice everything and leave before hurting him.
What an ass he was.
“I gotta run.” He wiped his mouth, tossed some bills down, and scooted away from the table.
“But your bacon hasn’t come out yet.”
“I’m not hungry anymore.” He had a project to shut down.
And a woman to find.
* * *
Hunter Fox returned his call almost immediately, and Eddie pulled to the side of the road to take it. He wanted to give it his total focus. He wasn’t generally a shark when it came to business, but he knew how to play ball, and how different could this be? Hell, this’d probably be easier than any ball game.
He didn’t waste any time, telling the Fairview exec right off, “You’re stopping construction.”
Fox paused for a good ten seconds. “I am?”
He knew at once what the guy was up to. Fox would try to unsettle him, using long silences, threats, whatever it took. But Eddie didn’t scare easy.
He had only one thing to lose: Laura.
And the sooner he dealt with this bonehead, the sooner he could track her down. He’d apologize. He’d bring her home.
“You are. You’re stopping construction. See, Hunter, I know what you’re up to.” He was officially done with Mister Fox.
“You do? You surprise me, Edward. What am I up to?”
Fox’s voice reeked of amused disdain, but it didn’t throw Eddie off his game one little bit. He had the ball and was going for the blitz.
“You wanted to bulldoze a protected habitat and cover it up.” It was a leap to think Fairview knew about the nesting ground, but Rob had overheard something in that casino. If the guy was up to no good, hopefully he’d be quick to panic at anything. And sure, bulldoze was an exaggeration—they might’ve been on the same property, but those nests were nowhere near the ranch house itself—but he bet these monkey suits bluffed right and left. “You knew something like that would bring the government down on your ass, and yet you covered it up. There must be all kinds of laws protecting rare species.”
Instead of answering, Fox was silent. Bingo.
He might not know business, but he knew all about sleazebags like this guy. He seized his advantage. “If you don’t shut down your little boutique hotel, I’m calling every newspaper from here to the goddamn New York Times if I have to, telling them you were going to slaughter a bunch of endangered birds. How do you think your rich yuppie eco-tourists will like that?”
“Nicely done.” Fox’s voice was dangerously subdued. “Just one problem. Who’ll believe you?”
“The whole town of Sierra Falls, for a start.” He was freestyling now, but it felt right. Full-court press, for the win. “I’ve got witnesses. Your lackeys aren’t the only ones who’ve heard about your special projects.”
“Okay, Edward,” Fox said genially, “Let’s say I’m finding this two-bit town to be more trouble than it’s worth. What would you say to that?”
“I’d say maybe it was time for you to get out of Dodge. Cut your losses. Except for one thing…”
Fox’s voice hardened. “What do you want, Mister Jessup?”
Mister Jessup—how the tables turned. “I’ll tell you my terms.” He paused. “But first? The name’s Edwin. Edwin Jessup.”
He told Fox exactly what he wanted. And then he sped off, going after who he wanted.
Laura. She’d become his everything. She was all he really needed.
She was headed back to the city, but he had an idea where she’d go first. She’d told him once how special the falls were to her, and he knew in his gut she’d need to see them as part of her good-bye.
He drove straight to the trailhead, and sure enough, her shiny black Beemer was there.
He hit the trail, walking fast. But first he let himself take a moment to pick her a good pinecone.
Thirty-seven
Laura had dallied long enough. She’d said good-bye to the falls. She wondered what Grandpa would’ve had to say about her leaving—probably that she was a coward.
It was too late now. She’d accepted the job. Had chosen her path.
She got up and brushed herself off. It was time. She hadn’t lied to Sorrow when she said she wanted to miss the Bay Area traffic. She hit the trail, heading back the way she came.