Cash wished he could’ve joined Aubrey in the creek or at least seen more of her in the bikini she had on. But it was time for him to have a talk with Ellie. She’d been moping around ever since they got to Jace’s and had avoided him throughout dinner. If they were going to coexist, they needed to come to an understanding.
First, though, he wanted to explain that he hadn’t abandoned her twelve years ago, despite what she might think.
He went inside the cabin, the scent of fresh paint still thick in the air. It was better than the musty odor that had clung to the place like mildew.
“Hey, Ellie.” He tapped on her bedroom door.
“I’m going to bed.”
It was only a little past seven, but he supposed she was still operating on East Coast time. “I thought we could have a talk.”
“I’m too tired,” Ellie said, and he rolled his eyes because she was probably on that damned smartphone of hers.
The cell was one of many things they had to talk about. He didn’t mind if she was communicating with her friends in Boston, but there had to be rules and boundaries. Cyberspace could be a dangerous place for a twelve-year-old.
“Why don’t you take a nap and then we’ll talk?” Cash decided it was a good compromise. The kid wanted him to cave, but he wasn’t going to do it. He had twenty-four years on Ellie; he could out stubborn her.
She didn’t respond, which didn’t surprise him. In an hour they’d have their discussion. Cash decided to spend the next sixty minutes tidying up. Priming Ellie’s walls—or perhaps seeing Aubrey’s cabin—had motivated him to organize. Tomorrow, he planned to work on the shed and get his old case files out of the house. Then he’d go to work on the leaky toilet.
In the meantime, the bathroom could use a cleaning. On a hook behind the door, he found the sweater Ellie was so attached to. It was stretched and stained and smelled like a combination of fish and barbecue. He stuck it in the washer with a load of dirty laundry, even though he should’ve thrown the damned thing out and bought her a new one.
A car pulled up while he was in the kitchen, hunting up scouring powder. It was a little late for a visitor, at least by country standards. Cash went out to the front porch and found a familiar Ford sedan parked in his driveway.
Calvin Sullivan, known as Sully to everyone at the Bureau, alighted from the car and flipped up his aviators. “So this is Dry Creek Ranch?”
“This is it,” Cash said, surprised his former colleague had made the trip.
“I expected something a little more, uh, ranchy.” Sully looked up at the cabin, then turned slightly and stared off into the fields. “Where are the cows?”
“It’s past their bedtime.” Cash brushed away a few fallen leaves from a lawn chair and offered Sully a seat. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” His gut told him this wasn’t a welfare check or even a social call. Sully was wearing a suit and his wing-tips were freshly shined. A G-man to the core. Even though they’d been good friends in the Bureau, there was no question in Cash’s mind where Sully’s loyalties lay.
“Can’t I just say hi to an old friend?”
Cash cocked a brow. “You always were a bullshit artist, Sully. Hang on while I get us a couple of drinks.” He fetched two beers from the fridge, popped the caps, considered glassware and just as quickly rejected the idea before returning to the porch. “How’s Candy? Bet she misses me.” He handed Sully one of the bottles.
“She’s pissed at you.” Sully took a long drag of his beer and wiped his mouth with his hand. “She liked it when you had my back.”
Like you had mine? Ah, hell, it wasn’t Sully’s fault Cash got fired. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but his own. “Send her and the kids my love. We all caught up now?”
“Stop being an asshat, Dalton.” Sully glanced out over Dry Creek Ranch and lingered on the creek. “You can fish from the porch.”
“And I do. And on evenings like this, I watch the sunset,” Cash said, taking a pull on his drink. It tasted good, like a hot summer night. “It’s something out here.”
Sully rose, walked to the edge of the porch, rested his elbows on the railing, and stared out over the western horizon. “I see what you mean.” The sky was streaked in bloodred, purple, and blue. In an hour, the sun would dip below the mountains, leaving shadows across the range, and then the stars would start to fill the sky. Hundreds of them. “You know you could come back if you truly wanted to.”
That’s right, all Cash had to do was adjust his attitude. Wasn’t that what his boss had said in that thick Texas drawl of his right before he told Cash to pack his desk and use all his vacation time? With 365 days accrued on the books, Cash took the words for what they were: a verbal pink slip.
Sully sat down again. “We’re not superheroes, Dalton. Sometimes the bad guys get one over on us. Live with it.”
That was the problem: Cash couldn’t. Not when innocent lives were taken because they’d made an epically bad call. He clasped his hands behind his head, leaned back in his lawn chair, and watched the colors of the sunset grow more vivid.
“Sully,” he finally said, “I know you didn’t drive all the way from San Francisco to tell me I could have my job back.” Other than a sympathy card when Grandpa Dalton died, Cash hadn’t heard from Sully since turning in his badge.
“I came for the fresh air.” Sully took a deep breath and slowly let the air out of his lungs. “A guy could get used to this.” He returned his gaze to the fields where Grandpa Dalton used to run his cattle. “How much does a place like this go for?”
Cash propped up his boots on the stair rail and felt it wobble. “More than you can afford.”
“That’s not saying much.” Sully chuckled, then became contemplative. “Candy’s always saying we should get a place in the country. Something small with a little land, where we can get away on weekends.”
Cash had always had Dry Creek Ranch. Looking back on it, he wished he’d come more often, spent more time with Jasper. The old coot had been Cash’s hero. “Yep, Candy’s right, the country’s good. Soothes the soul.” Yet, as peaceful as it was here, he still had the dreams. Always Casey Farmington.
“What are you planning to do?” Sully asked.
“Haven’t decided yet.”
“I hear your cousin’s the Mill County sheriff. Can he give you a job?”
“Not interested,” Cash said. “It’s time for me to do something else. Maybe put my law degree to work.” Though the idea didn’t much appeal to Cash. He’d come up with something sooner or later.
Sully tilted back his bottle and took another long pull of his beer. “They’re serving you with a subpoena to testify at Whiting’s trial.”
So that’s why he’d come.
“Who’s they?” Sad to say, but Cash was probably more beneficial as a defense witness than he’d be for the prosecution.
“US Attorney, but for all I know, Whiting’s federal defender is planning to call you too.”
Cash pressed the cold bottle against his neck. “Great,” he said. “Just what I need.” The entire case had been a fiasco, but if his testimony helped put Whiting away, he’d be the first one at the courthouse. The problem was, he might do more harm than good. “Seems like a big risk to me.”
“Why do you think they’re subpoenaing you?” Sully said. “It’s called damage control. As long as the prosecutor gets first crack at you, he can frame the narrative any way he wants. That way there are no surprises when the defense gets its cross-examination.”
Yep, that was exactly the way Cash would’ve played it if he were prosecuting the case. “I won’t lie on the stand, Sully. You can tell those sacks of shit that I’ll tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. It’s all I have left to give Casey Farmington’s parents.”
There was a long silence, then Sully said, “You always were a sanctimonious son of a bitch. No one expects you to lie, Cash. Jeez, you’d think we were the Antichrist.”
No, just incompetent.
“Just as long as the brass knows what they’re getting themselves into by calling me as a witness.” They’d royally screwed up the case and he wouldn’t hide all the things that had gone wrong. Not under any circumstances, let alone under oath.
The screen door squeaked and Ellie came out onto the porch. She looked half-asleep, and Cash wondered if their voices had awakened her.
“I didn’t know you had company,” Sully said, flummoxed by the appearance of a young girl. “And who is this?” He smiled at Ellie, who looked back at him with mild curiosity.
“This is my daughter, Ellie.” Cash got to his feet. “Ellie, this is Calvin Sullivan. We used to work together.”
Cash saw surprise streak across Sully’s face and, like any good agent, he immediately masked his reaction. “Good to meet you, Ellie.” He shot Cash a WTF look. They’d known each other more than a decade and Sully was obviously stymied by the revelation that Cash had a daughter.
You and me both, bud.
Nevertheless, Cash knew that before Sully got in his car and drove away he’d get an earful.
He nudged Ellie. “Hey, what do you say?”
“Good to meet you too.” She stuck out her hand and Sully shook it.
“You ready?” Cash asked her. They still needed to have their talk, but he hoped Sully would construe the question to mean they had plans to go somewhere and take it as a not-so-subtle hint to leave.
Under different circumstances, he might’ve enjoyed visiting with his former colleague for a while. Tonight, he didn’t want to have to explain Ellie’s sudden appearance in his life or share FBI war stories over a couple of cold ones. He especially didn’t want to talk anymore about Charles Whiting. The SOB had given Cash enough nightmares.
“I should get going.” Sully stood and stretched his back. “Walk me to the car, would ya?” They strode down the driveway until they were out of earshot of the porch. “Since when do you have a daughter?”
“Since twelve years ago,” Cash said and sighed. “It’s a long, complicated story.”
“I’ve got time.” Sully rested his hip against the side of his car.
“I don’t.” Not too long ago, Cash had considered Sully a close friend. Not so much anymore. And while Ellie was by no means a secret, Cash didn’t feel like sharing the details of Marie and her death with him. Not while Cash was still trying to sort it out for himself. “Ellie’s waiting for me.”
Sully gave him a long perusal and nodded. “Okay. It was good catching up, buddy. Things haven’t been the same without you.”
Cash went in for the one-second man hug, even though he knew Sully was full of shit. “Let’s grab a beer sometime.”
“Yep.” Sully tilted his head toward the spot where Ellie was still standing. “You owe me that long, complicated story. Pretty girl.”
“Yes, she is.” An odd sense of pride welled up in his chest. Not because Ellie was pretty but because she was his. “See you around, Sully.” Cash watched Sully do a three-point turn in the driveway, then headed to the cabin.
Ellie had gone inside and was fiddling with the television. “I can’t get it to work.”
Cash took the remote control from her hand. “Come sit at the table. I’d like us to have a real conversation.”
She screwed up her face as if he’d asked her to eat all her liver and vegetables. Despite her aversion to him, she did as he asked, plopping down on one of the dining room chairs, then propping her elbows on the table, doing her best to appear put out. Which she no doubt was. He had that effect on her.
“Where’s my sweater? It’s not in the bathroom where I left it.”
“I washed it,” which reminded Cash that he still had to transfer the clean clothes to the dryer.
Ellie went white, then bolted for the washing machine.
“The sweater was filthy,” Cash called after her, wondering what the problem was. It was a worn, old sweater that hung on her tiny frame like a gunnysack.
A door slammed, and Cash got up to find out what the hell he’d done wrong. He let himself into Ellie’s room to find her sitting on the bed, the sweater cradled in her lap, crying.
“She’s gone,” she whispered.
Cash blinked, trying to make the connection.
“Who’s gone?”
Ellie didn’t answer.
He came a few steps closer, but she didn’t look up.
“Who’s gone, sweetheart?” he asked, softer.
“My mother.” Ellie’s voice was barely there.
Cash wrinkled his forehead. He still wasn’t making the connection.
“Please,” he said as gently as he could. “Explain what you mean.”
Finally, Ellie looked up at him. “It doesn’t smell like her anymore.”
“Like who?” The mattress dipped from Cash’s weight as he sat next to her on the bed.
“My mom.” She hiccupped. “It was hers and now she’s gone and now I can’t even smell her anymore.” Ellie began to sob uncontrollably.
“Ah, jeez.” Cash scrubbed his hand over his face, at a total loss for what to do. “I screwed up, Ellie. Ah, honey…I had no idea.”
“I want her back so bad,” she said through tears. “Then I could leave this place and never come back again.”
Seeing her this way made his heart fold in half. He reached for her, awkward at first. But when she showed no resistance, he pulled her closer. She buried her face in his chest and let the dam burst, soaking his shirt.
“I hate you,” she said between sobs.
Cash rubbed her back like he’d seen Jace do when Grady was a newborn. Between Ellie and his old bosses at the Bureau, he wasn’t too popular these days.
“Yeah?” he said. “Get in line, kiddo.”