| |
Bryce showed up at Cecily’s, showered and dressed in comfortable jeans and a long-sleeved Henley, shortly before five. He’d considered—and dismissed—the idea of bringing a go bag with a change of clothes for the morning. Things between him and Cecily had a starting over feel rather than a picking up where we left off feel. Even so, he had a momentary flash of her waiting for him in that transparent red number she’d worn for all of half a minute the last time he’d been here, but disregarded it as wishful thinking rather than reality.
He rang the bell, only slightly disappointed when she opened it wearing old, torn jeans, a faded Broncos hoodie and sneakers, not her normal cowboy boot footwear. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. More dressed down than usual, but he assumed she was making a statement. This isn’t a date.
She dangled a key ring from her finger. “I thought we’d go down to the Springs,” she said, a broad smile on her face. Not an I’m happy to see you kind of smile, more of a sneaky, I’ve got a plan kind of smile.
Bryce stepped back, considered her attire, and why she’d want to go out dressed that way. She might not be a fashion plate, but she was always well-groomed. For the first time since he’d known her, he felt overdressed. “Any place in particular?” he asked. “It’s more than an hour down the mountain.”
“Which is why we need to get going,” she said. “I’ll explain. You want to drive, or should I?”
Driving gave him at least the semblance of control. He gestured toward Cecily’s clothing. “I take it we’re not going anywhere fancy.”
Her smile dropped from her face. “I can’t sit here doing nothing. Grady gave his address as Stargate Park in the Springs. I need to go down there, see if he’s there, or if anyone knows him. I have his picture. We can ask around. Please. If you don’t want to go, I’ll understand, but I’m going anyway. If anything happens to him, and I don’t at least try to find him, I’ll never be able to live with myself.”
That was Cecily. Always going the extra mile. Or, in this case, the extra fifty miles. One way.
“Does this mean dinner is off?” he asked, forcing a smile.
“I thought we’d hit a drive-through on the way down.” She gave him a weak smile. “My treat.”
“Given it’s my gas, I’ll agree.”
“Deal.” She picked up a small backpack and dropped her key ring inside. Slinging the pack over a shoulder, she said, “Let’s go.”
Once they reached the outskirts of Pinon Crest, he asked, “Any preferences for dinner?”
“Doesn’t matter to me. You can choose.”
Since fast food was all the same to Bryce, he swung into the first place they came to. While they waited for their orders, Cecily spoke up. “I don’t want you to think I invited you over with an ulterior motive. It’s just that as I was waiting, I got more and more antsy about Grady. I called the station, and neither they nor El Paso County had seen him. It was a last minute decision and I should have let you know. I apologize.”
How was he supposed to respond? Yes, she should have, or accept her apology? “It’s all right. I understand.”
Her smile said he’d found the words she wanted to hear. Chalk one up to being noncommittal.
“What’s your plan?” he asked. “Anything beyond flashing his picture?”
“You don’t think that’s enough?”
The car in front of him drove away. Bryce pulled up to the pickup window and handed the cashier his credit card.
“I said I’d pay.” Cecily fished in her pack.
“We can settle up later,” Bryce said. “You have cash? Fives and tens?”
“A few. Mostly twenties. I hit the ATM on my way home. Why?”
Bryce handed the food bag to Cecily. “Because the kind of people you’ll be talking to are not going to answer you in any detail out of the goodness of their hearts. You were smart enough to dress down closer to their level, but they’re not going to think you’re one of them. They’ll want some incentive—of the green kind—and unless you’re going to be handing out twenties—how many do you have, by the way?”
“Ten,” she said, a flash of pride crossing her features. “I already thought of that, and took out two hundred dollars.”
He took the fry she offered and found a slot in the parking lot. He was hungry, Cecily needed a much better plan, and losing a few minutes to hash things out wouldn’t throw a wrench into the works.
After protesting the delay, Cecily accepted his explanation and handed him his burger. Bryce inhaled the greasy, beefy aroma while he constructed a reply for Cecily.
Stalling, he swallowed a bite of burger, washed it down with a sip of Dr. Pepper, and wiped his hands and mouth on a napkin. Cecily nibbled on an onion ring while she watched him.
“So, let’s say you approach Joe homeless, and show him Grady’s picture. Let’s say he asks what’s in it for him,” Bryce said.
She gave a confident smile, as if she’d thought this out. “I say if he has information I can use, I’ll pay him.”
“Then he asks how much. What do you say?”
“I say how much depends on what he tells me.”
Bryce busied himself with another couple of fries before he went on. “He doesn’t agree to your terms, he walks away. You don’t know if he had information about Grady or not. If you show him one of your twenties, he’ll tell you anything he thinks you want to hear. You don’t expect him to make change, do you?”
Her face fell. “I guess I didn’t think this through enough.” She cocked her head. “How did you become an expert in interrogating the homeless?”
“I wouldn’t use the word interrogate. A friendly request for information. We did it all the time in the army. We needed information, people had it. It was a matter of finding the most efficient way to make the exchange.”
“Money worked?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes food was better. Or a blanket. Regardless, it’s a matter of not overspending, whether it’s a chocolate bar or currency.”
“So, how much should I give? And where can I get some small bills? The banks are closed.”
“Before we go there, what’s your story? Why do you want information?” he asked.
Her brows lifted. “To find Grady, of course.”
“Why do you want to find him? Who’s he to you? Why is he so important? No offense, but I don’t think saying your Helping Through Horses program depends on him will be much motivation.”
After crumpling up the remains of her dinner, she lifted her chin. “So, what do we do now?”
“We hit Walmart, get some small bills. Work out a cover story. You’ve made a good try, but you don’t look homeless. More importantly, you don’t smell homeless. We need something that says we don’t have a lot of money—because that raises the I don’t trust you factor way up there, not to mention the You look rich, so give me more money factor.”
Cecily spread her hands. “I’m not rich. You can’t think I look rich dressed like this.”
“I think you look like someone pretending to be poor. You’re wearing old clothes, but they’re clean. You’re clean. If you’d told me what you wanted, we could have come up with a plan and made sure we fit the mold.”
At Cecily’s indignant expression, he hurried to add, “Since we’re here now, let’s figure it out.” He twisted the key in the ignition. “If it matters, I wouldn’t be sleeping well if I thought I could have prevented something from happening to Grady.”
A prolonged, empty silence—and not the comfortable kind Bryce enjoyed—seemed to fill the truck’s cab with a thick mist.
Cecily spoke at last, her voice subdued and flat. “The difference is, you think Grady’s all right and I think he’s in trouble. You wouldn’t lose any sleep until it was too late.”
Cecily wished there was a delete key for words spoken. Bryce’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel and his jaw clenched. She’d hurt him, insinuating he didn’t care. He cared, she knew that, but he didn’t see things the same way she did.
Afraid she’d make things worse by talking, she stared out the window. The sign outside the bank flashed thirty-six degrees. It would be a little warmer in the Springs, but the night was clear and the temperature would continue to drop. If Grady was on the streets, would he be warm enough?
Bryce flipped on the blinker and moved into the turn lane for Walmart. The lot was half-empty, and he found a slot not far from the entrance.
She grabbed her pack. “Will the two hundred be enough?”
“Should be more than enough.” Bryce said.
“I’m sorry,” she said as they strolled to the door. “I know you care, or you wouldn’t have been willing to take Grady on. I’m upset, and my brain didn’t kick in before my mouth did. Please don’t be mad at me.”
“Not mad,” Bryce said. The doors slid open as they approached. “Customer service is the best bet to change your money. I’m going to hit the john. Meet you at the car.”
Not mad? By whose definition?
While she waited in line, Cecily tried to come up with a reason someone would want to find Grady.
His mother was sick? Not sick. On her deathbed. Cecily considered the skimpy information Heather had put on Grady’s paperwork. Mother didn’t care about him. If Grady had mentioned his relationship with his mother to anyone, they wouldn’t believe she’d want him back or that he’d want to return. But reconciliation when someone was dying seemed reasonable, didn’t it?
Let him know a relative had died? Left him some money. For added incentive, she could say Grady would provide a finder’s fee out of the inheritance.
She was pregnant with his child? No, that was a stretch. She’d been told she looked young for her age, but Grady was a kid. Not that it couldn’t have happened, but she moved on.
He had a rare blood type and was the only person who could save someone’s life? If her carrying Grady’s child was a stretch, this one was on another planet.
After getting the small bills Bryce had suggested, Cecily took advantage of the facilities before hastening toward Bryce’s pickup. Buckling herself in, she said, “I have an idea for our cover story.”
“I had a couple myself.” He started the truck and backed out of the parking slot.
Relief surged through her. He wasn’t coming along to humor her. He wasn’t mad at her. He was going to be an active participant. “You first,” she said. “I’ll bow to your experience. Most of my ideas were pretty lame or totally off the wall.”
A quick twitch of a grin curved Bryce’s mouth. “We’ll say he skipped out on a job, and it’s not like him to leave without telling. We’re worried about him, we owe him back pay, and can you help us find him. We don’t want to involve the cops, because Grady has a record and he’s trying to go straight. The cops would get him into juvie.”
Stunned, she sat there, unable to speak until they’d turned onto the highway. “That’s—that’s practically the truth.”
This time, his smile was broad and genuine. His silver eyes twinkled. “Always best to stick as close to the truth as possible.”
“That sure beats my being pregnant with his child story.”
Bryce laughed. Out loud. Deep from his belly. She tried to remember the last time she’d heard the sound—not counting while they were watching a slapstick comedy—and even those guffaws couldn’t compare to this one.
She’d made him laugh. Another piece of her heart opened.
Cecily tried to absorb Bryce’s advice as they wound their way down the mountain. Act concerned. Okay, that one was easy. Not desperate. That would be a tad harder, but she could handle it. When Bryce suggested he be in charge of asking the questions, she readily agreed.
Her excitement grew as they approached the Interstate. Even in the traffic, which was always heavy along this section of the highway, they’d be at the park in under twenty minutes. Bryce, on the other hand, seemed to be withdrawing, responding to her questions in monosyllables and ignoring her attempts at non-Grady conversation. Why? He’d come up with the plan, so he was on board. He’d admitted to caring about Grady. He was in charge of this excursion. Then it hit her like snow falling off the roof.
He doesn’t like being in charge. Assuming responsibility. Unless it’s the horses.
He’d been a Ranger with Derek. Was this too much like what he did in the army? She’d never thought of him being a soldier, but that was his past. Maybe he didn’t like being reminded of it. Derek didn’t talk about what he’d done as a soldier, and he had no problems interacting with people.
Had something happened in Bryce’s Ranger days? Was that what he’d meant when he’d said he had things he couldn’t talk about? Wouldn’t talk about? Why did he think they wouldn’t be friends if he did? Cecily couldn’t imagine anything that would change her opinion of the Bryce she knew. Today’s Bryce.
Still rolling those thoughts around in her head, she was surprised when Bryce stopped his truck. They were at the park. Her pulse fluttered. Was she close to finding Grady?
She gathered her pack, pulled out her now fat wallet. “Since you’re in charge, you should have the money.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Bryce said. “I’m the one with the interest in Grady, you’re the woman I’m with for the night.”
She wasn’t sure how to take that. “You mean, when you snap your fingers, I pull money out of my bag?”
“Depends. If we’re talking about the homeless, it’s not a big deal. If there are people here with gang connections, then I’ll get respect by having a woman doing my bidding. As if I can’t be bothered with something as banal as handling money.”
“Banal? You channeling Derek?”
“He rubs off on you after a while.” He placed his Stetson on the backseat and replaced it with a black ball cap, threading his ponytail through the opening. “Less memorable than a Stetson down here.”
Cecily got out of the truck and shouldered her pack, trying to figure out this new side of Bryce. He grabbed her elbow. “One more thing,” he said.
She faced him. “What? I think I’ve got my part figured out, although maybe we need a code word for when I’m supposed to be your bimbo.”
“Hang on my arm. Follow my lead. The difference between homeless and gang member should be obvious. That wasn’t the one more thing I was talking about.”
“So what was it?”
He ran a fingertip along her jaw. “A kiss for luck.” He brought his mouth to hers.
Tender and poignant, the kiss lingered on her lips as they strolled, her arm looped through his, toward the park pavilion.
“After that kiss, we should have the luck of the Irish on our side,” she said. “When we’re done here, we should buy a lottery ticket.”
He squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. “Tell me something,” she said. “When you were with the Rangers, is that how you started all your missions?”
He extricated his hand and swatted her behind. Bryce might not like playing soldier, but there was a different vibe between them now. Optimism governed her stride. Even if they didn’t find Grady, or someone who knew him at the park tonight, she was sure they’d make progress on two fronts.