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Grady tried not to break into a full blown run as he made his way to the house. He was wearing sneakers, not boots, but he’d been in the barn, so he toed them off and left them under the bench in the mudroom. Whatever happened, he needed to stay on the good side of Derek and Cecily. He vowed he’d try to be nicer. He’d had plenty of practice with his most recent stepfather.
Don’t ruffle feathers. Don’t make waves. Stay invisible.
He wanted to get to the bathroom, take a minute to think things through in private. When he went into the kitchen, a cute blue-eyed blonde put a pan filled with little brown squares into the oven, then turned and smiled at him. “You must be Grady. I’m Sabrina. I live next door.” She held out a hand. “If you can call three miles away next door.”
He composed his face into what he hoped was a civilized expression and returned the handshake. “Nice to meet you.” He gazed toward the doorway. “Um ... I’ll be right back, okay?”
“Sure.”
She probably thought he was having a bathroom emergency. It was, sort of, but not the normal kind. More of a privacy emergency. Once behind the locked door—at least they had locks on bathrooms around here—he leaned against the counter sucking air. He splashed some cold water on his face, wet a washcloth and held it against the back of his neck.
He stared at his wild-eyed reflection.
Lots of people use knives. Enrique and Xiang couldn’t possibly know you’re here. If they did, they’d have come after you, not cows.
Talk about jumping to conclusions. This was a world record long jump. As in a thirty-footer. Enrique and Xiang had been picked up by the cops a couple days before him. But they had priors, they were older, and the cops had taken them somewhere else. Grady assumed—which was stupid, he knew—they’d been dragged off to jail. They had to be locked up, didn’t they? Or were they out on bail?
Cecily worked for the Sheriff’s Department. Could she find out where Enrique and Xiang were? If he asked, she’d want to know why, and that would mean telling. Maybe even testifying in court. He shoved those thoughts away.
As long as he was here, he used the facilities, tried to make himself presentable, and padded down the hall, through the living room and into the dining room where Sabrina was setting the table.
Be friendly, remember. He tried to give her a nonchalant smile. “Can I help?”
“I’ve got it, but thanks.”
He took a minute to check her out. One thing about this Triple-D gig—it was filled with hot babes. But Sabrina was Derek’s girlfriend, and off limits.
She arranged silverware and napkins. “You can get the lemonade. If you want anything different, you can serve yourself.”
Grady fetched the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge, and a glass of milk for himself.
Derek strolled through the kitchen, followed by Cecily and Bryce. Grady caught something in the way Bryce and Cecily exchanged glances and he wrote Cecily off—not that he expected he’d have a chance with her. But a guy could look, right?
Supper was sandwiches, so whatever Sabrina had put into the oven had to be for the ranchers’ meeting Derek said he could come to. Not like there was anything to do in the guesthouse. He wasn’t sure if he should be pleased to be included, or insulted because Derek mentioned it because he wanted to keep an eye on him. He finished his sandwich and milk, nibbled on a few tortilla chips.
“How was your day, Grady?” Sabrina asked. “Are you liking the Triple-D?”
“It’s okay,” he said. What did she want? Him to jump up and down about shoveling shit?
“Where are you from?” she went on.
He answered her questions with the information everyone else already had. If she and Derek were so close, how come she didn’t already know this stuff? Was she supposed to be pumping him, too? He’d inspected all the places Tanya had touched, not seeing anything that looked like a camera or a microphone. With no locked doors, who’s to say someone else hadn’t done that before she’d shown up? Or while he’d been working. Maybe before he’d arrived, even.
You’re being paranoid. Sabrina’s friendly. And she’s cute. And she’s Derek’s girlfriend. You’re supposed to be nice, remember?
He tried for a few smiles and embellished his answers with what he figured she’d want to hear. So what if they were pulled out of his imagination? The way he wished things could have been.
“How are your rooms?” Cecily asked.
“Fine.” If you didn’t mind being all alone a mile from any humans, wondering if Enrique and Xiang or some of their henchmen might show up in the middle of the night.
When Derek suggested Grady stay in the main house in one of the spare bedrooms, he tried not to look too relieved.
“Until we figure out this cattle issue,” Derek explained. “Couple of days ought to do it. Then you can go back and have your privacy.”
“Okay. I’ll get my stuff.” He cleared his dishes and went across the yard for the Gator. Charlie, the ranch mutt, trotted at his heels. “You want to come along?” The dog leaped into the passenger seat and thumped his tail. “Guess so.”
Grady would have preferred a big, mean Rottweiler, but Charlie would do. It took Grady only minutes to pack his clothes and bathroom things. He thought about the strongbox, but figured it was safer here. Or did Derek have a safe at the ranch? He could ask, although if he did, then Derek might ask questions. Nope. He’d leave it here.
At the house, Cecily showed him to a guestroom. She left, but didn’t shut the door. He thought about closing it, but all he was doing was putting his gear away. He took in the room. Much nicer than the cramped one in the guesthouse. A queen-sized bed, topped with a green-and-red plaid spread. Easy chair upholstered in green. Night table with a lamp and a clock. Four drawer chest. Private bath. Towels on the rack, small bottles on the vanity. He lifted one and smiled. Holiday Inn. Another was from a Marriott. Shampoo, conditioner, lotion, mouthwash—a tour of chain hotels.
Rather than deal with people and their questions, he took his time unpacking, hanging up his spare pair of jeans, and folding the shirts he’d stuffed into the duffle in his initial haste to get out of the guesthouse. Like his room there, this one had no entertainment amenities. Grady wondered if Derek would let him watch television while the ranchers talked. Or, better yet, give him access to the Internet. See if there was anything he could find about Enrique and Xiang.