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Shannon and Drake paced themselves to Will’s waddling gait. He was barely walking. Once they closed the bedroom door, Shannon lifted him, laid him in the middle of the bed and began to undress him. “Do you remember the night we met?” she said to Drake.
He came to her side. “Of course I remember,” he said softly. “How could I forget one of my most life-changing moments?”
“You thought I was with Jordan Palmer.”
“I remember that, too. What about it?”
“You never told me how well you knew him. All I’ve ever heard about him is you don’t like him and you had a fight with him because he stalked your little sister.”
Freed of the confines of clothing, Will’s chubby legs bicycled and he squirmed and fretted. “Watch him while I go get a washcloth,” she said to Drake and started for the bathroom.
“That was years ago,” Drake said.
She returned from the bedroom with a wet cloth and began to wash Will’s bottom. “What would you think if I told you he called Johnnie Sue on her cell phone. Today. Just a little while ago.”
“Why?” Drake asked. “Does she know him? And how do you know he called her?”
She looked up at her husband. He was standing there, hands on his hips, watching her. She related the short scene in the kitchen with the housekeeper’s phone, stuffing Will into clean clothes as she talked. “I don’t know why. Do you think it could be the same Jordan Palmer you and I both know?”
Drake cut her a sharp look and stood there a few seconds, saying nothing. She could almost see gears grinding behind his eyes. “Jesus Christ,” he said all at once. “She’d been working here only a short time when Kate’s barn burned.”
He picked up Will and propped him on his hip. “Come on.” He grabbed her hand and started out of the suite, towing her behind him.
“Drake. Wait. Where are we going?”
They barged into the den. Troy, Pic and Kate, were sprawled on the sofa and chairs visiting and drinking coffee. Startled, they all came to attention.
“Where’s Dad and Mandy?” Drake asked curtly.
Pic stood. “Dad was here a few minutes ago. He just stepped out. I don’t know where Mandy is. What’s up?”
Drake handed Will over to Shannon. “Keep an eye on the hallway,” he ordered. “Make sure this conversation is private.”
“Uh, okay.” Carrying Will, Shannon walked over to the door and opened it slightly, giving her a view of the hallway.
“When did Johnnie Sue go to work here?” Drake asked the room.
“Don’t ask me,” Troy answered. “I left one day and when I came back she was here.”
“I don’t remember exactly,” Pic said.
Kate rose from her seat on the end of the long sofa and planted her hands on her hips. “I do. It was the summer before you and Shannon got married.”
“Three years ago?”
Now all of them were standing, but Kate was the only one who spoke up. “You probably don’t remember, but after Mom left and before Johnnie Sue came along, Dad and Pic never could keep a housekeeper very long. That job was kind of like a revolving door.”
“Did anybody check her background?”
Pic shook his head. “I didn’t. And I’d be surprised if Dad did. Why would we? We’ve never done that before.”
Drake stared at all of them for a few seconds. “She was here when Kate’s barn burned, right?”
A chill raced up Shannon’s spine and her pulse rate picked up. Oh, God. What did that mean? Shannon herself had just met Drake when that tragedy occurred. She looked up the hallway again. Just then, Drake’s dad sauntered toward her. As he came closer, he gave her a questioning look. “What’s going on?”
“Noth—nothing. ... Sir.”
He ran a hand over Will’s curly head. “This boy’s got your pretty red hair.”
“Yessir.” She stepped out of his way.
As he entered the room, Drake was glaring at Troy. “When’s the last time your buddy Jordan Palmer was at this ranch?”
Troy’s eyes widened. “How the hell would I know?”
“You’re friends with him. You partied with him. Didn’t he ever come here to visit you?”
“Hell, no, he didn’t. But what if he did? Am I supposed to report if one of my friends comes to visit?”
“Troy. Stop being a butthole. Help me out here.”
“Goddammit, Drake, as far as I know, Palmer hasn’t been here at the ranch since you kicked his ass and told him not to come back. Hell, that was over ten years ago.”
Pic stepped to Troy’s side, patting the air with his palms. “Hey, y’all. Let’s all calm down, okay?’
“What’s this about, Son?” Bill Junior asked.
Drake’s gaze bored into his middle brother’s eyes before he turned to his dad. “I want somebody in this room to tell me, with all the shit that’s gone on at this ranch and all that it’s cost us, why in the goddamn hell a woman we know practically nothing about is working inside this house every day, basically unsupervised. A woman who’s getting phone calls from a man who is not a friend of this family.”
“What are you talking about?” Pic asked, frowning.
Oh, hell. Had Mandy not mentioned to Pic that Jordan Palmer had called the housekeeper? Shannon blinked, but said nothing.
“Wait a minute,” Dad said. “Are you talking about Johnnie Sue? She’s the—”
“No, Dad. Just stop. You’re about to tell me she’s the best housekeeper you’ve ever had. I’ve heard you say it. I won’t listen to you defend her.” He turned to Shannon. “Tell them, Shannon.”
Shannon’s heart pounded. She hated being put on the spot. What if Drake was wrong? But in her heart, she knew he wasn’t. His instincts were always right. Meekly, with a voice made shuddery by an adrenaline surge, she repeated the story about Mandy seeing Jordan’s name on the call screen of the housekeeper’s phone. She ended by saying, “We—we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I mean, there could be more than one Jordan Palmer.”
A telling silence fell across the room. Even Will was quiet.
Finally, Pic lifted his arms and let them fall to his side. “Well, shit! What are we supposed to do now?”
“Shannon’s right,” Bill Junior said. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions. As she said, we might be talking about a different person altogether.”
Drake glared at his dad. “Right now, I’m too pissed off to figure out the odds of that. I’m going to find out who the hell this woman is.” Drake returned his attention to Pic. “Have you got Johnnie Sue’s cell phone number somewhere?”
“Sure.”
“Get it for me, will you?”
“I think it’s in the kitchen.” Pic left the room, mumbling swear words as he passed Shannon on his way out. He soon returned and handed Drake a piece of note paper.
Drake yanked his phone off his belt, pressed a number into the phone and put it against his ear. Certain he was calling his assistant, Shannon placed a hand on his arm. “Drake, it’s almost Christmas. You can’t expect Debra—”
“Darlin’, for what I pay Debra, it doesn’t make any difference if it’s Christmas Day.”
Then, seconds later, “Debra,” he said. “Drake here. Sorry to bother you on the holiday weekend. This is urgent. I need a background check on a woman named Johnnie Sue Strickland. That’s Johnnie, spelled with an I E. Call me when you get this message. I need this ASAP. And while you’re at it, find out what you can about a man named Jordan Palmer and a relationship between him and Johnnie Sue.”
“Drake! It’s almost Christmas,” Shannon said again.
“Do you know where Marcus is?” he asked her as if she hadn’t said a word.
“Uh, no. He was outside the last time I saw him.”
“I’m going to find him.” He turned back to the dumbfounded group in the room. “I’m sure all of you agree this bullshit has gone on long enough. I’m going to get to the bottom of it. Do not, I repeat do not, mention this to a single person outside this room.”
He started for the door. “Come on, Shannon. Will probably needs a nap or something.”
Shannon followed him in silence. What he had said to her in the car on the way to Stephenville echoed through her mind: ...Nobody seems to be doing anything to make it stop. ...I’m wondering if I’m going to have to drop everything and go down there and deal with this....
She knew only two things for sure. Number one, if her husband was on a mission, almost nothing deterred him. Number two, Mandy was right about him. He was a don’t-baffle-me-with-bullshit kind of guy. If Jordan Palmer and/or Johnnie Sue were guilty of something, everyone would soon know it.
***
TROY STAMPED OUT OF the den, his head ready to explode. So much for having a nice relaxing visit with his dad and brothers. Drake was worse than a bloodhound. Once he was on the trail of a problem, he wouldn’t stop until he fixed it or it killed him. Jordan Palmer and Johnnie Sue’s names, along with the half dozen text messages on his own phone from Jordan wouldn’t leave his head. What did it all mean?
He glanced at his watch. Mom was expecting him for supper at seven and her house was an hour and a half drive from the Double-Barrel even with sparse traffic. He dropped into the kitchen to let Johnnie Sue know he wouldn’t be here for supper. Not spotting her, he drew a cup of coffee from the urn on the end of the counter, leaned his butt against the edge of the counter and sipped while he waited for her to come back.
She soon came into the kitchen carrying a big bowl. “Hey,” she said. “You need something or did you come in here to help me cook?”
“I’m headed out. Don’t set a place for me at supper, okay? I’m not gonna be here.”
“Why not?” she demanded, setting the bowl on the counter.
Taking no chances on causing a family upset, Troy had no intention of letting anyone besides Kate know he was having supper with Mom. Annoyance at Johnnie Sue’s presumptuousness spiraled up his spine. “Johnnie Sue,” he said firmly. “I’m not gonna be here. It’s nobody’s business why not.”
She braced one hand on the counter and jammed the other against a skinny hip. “What am I supposed to tell everybody?”
For one thing, you can tell them why you’re getting phone calls from an asshole like Jordan Palmer. He pushed off the counter edge and set down his cup. “You don’t have to tell them a damn thing. Like I said, it’s nobody’s business. But here’s something that is your business. I invited some people for Christmas. Three, to be exact.”
In the midst of all of this new turmoil, for a moment, Troy wished he could rescind the invitation he had extended to Sarah and her family, but to do so would be exceedingly rude. “They’ll show up Monday,” he continued. “I told them they could stay here. I’m assuming there’ll be a place for them to sleep. I haven’t told Dad yet, so you tell him for me, okay?”
She propped both fists on her hips. “Well, thanks a lot.”
Who the hell did she think she was? “Cool it with the attitude, Johnnie Sue. We’ll have enough food to feed all of Treadway County and there’s enough room in this house to bunk an army. It’s no extra work for you. You’ve got plenty of help.”
He stamped out of the kitchen, grabbed his coat off the steer horns by the back door and left, mumbling to himself. Jesus Christ, Kate was right. Sometimes you had to remind the housekeeper that she was an employee.
Now, after hearing what Drake had just reported, she might very well be a dangerous one. Maybe she was the one who had a vendetta against the family for some reason.
For sure, she was aware of everything that happened in this house and she also had plenty of unrequested opinions. What’s more, she had a key to every room and closet. The only thing she didn’t have was a key to the office and the combination to the safe, but for all Troy knew, Dad and Pic trusted her so much, they might have given her that, too.
One other fact haunted Troy. On the night Mandy’s SUV was trashed in a Fort Worth parking lot, the only person besides Pic and Dad who had known where Mandy would be on that particular evening was Johnnie Sue.
When Troy reached home, he checked his phone for a message from Sarah. Seeing nothing new he tapped a message to her: What did Jericho say?
He had deleted some of the text messages from Jordan, but we scrolled back to every one he could find and re-read it. Mostly, they said nothing. The common question asked in every one of them was if he was getting together with the family at the ranch for Christmas. Troy had spent every Christmas at the ranch since he was eight years old. Why would Jordan repeatedly ask him that question? As a tiny thread of anxiety squiggled through Troy’s gut, he made a mental note to tell Marcus about Jordan and his phone calls.
He tapped in a message to Drake: FYI. At least half a dozen texts from Jordan asking me if I’m going to be at the family’s Christmas get-together. Don’t know if it means anything. I never sent him an answer.
Then he had another thought and tapped in another message to his big brother: Before you go back to FW, let’s talk about B2B.
For a few seconds, he thought about calling and canceling his date with Mom. Hanging close to home seemed like a good idea, but he couldn’t stand up his stepmother. She was cooking supper for him. Back when they talked about his visit, he offered to take her out to a restaurant, but she wanted to cook something. At the time, that was okay with him because she was a damn fine cook.
He showered and dressed, then retrieved the gift he had bought her from his dresser drawer. He looked at it again lying on its bed of purple velvet. A gold neck chain with two pendants that were two halves of a gold heart. One half was engraved with the word “MOTHER”. The other half said “SON”.
Though the family didn’t exchange Christmas presents, Mom gave her kids small personal gifts. Since he had been old enough to have his own money, he had always reciprocated.
Shopping in the jewelry store where his dad had spent a ton of money on trinkets and doo-dads, the pendant had struck Troy at once as the perfect gift for his stepmother. She might never wear it, but she would have the message.
As far as Troy could tell, the three kids to whom she had given birth hardly ever gave her presents or even a few minutes of their time. They said things like, “What can you give a woman who’s got more diamonds than a jewelry store?” Or, “She’s already got everything.”
Often angry at her, they quarreled at her. At times, she was a little goofy, but who wasn’t? Troy would never be so uncaring. Or so ungrateful. The Christmas season seemed like an appropriate time to restate his gratitude and he would do it every year for as long as he could.
Before attaching his phone to his belt, he checked his text messages again. Finally, one was there from Sarah: My boy can hardly wait to get over to your place. I’m excited too. Jericho was kind of sad going into Christmas, but now he seems kind of happy & that makes me happy. Thank you again. SK
He paused a few minutes trying to read between the lines of that message. He gave up and tapped a quick message back: Looking forward to seeing you.
In truth, he was more than looking forward. He could hardly wait. He only hoped he could keep her separated from the Lockhart family turmoil.
He tapped in another question: Did your friend talk to her boyfriend about Rudy?
He hooked his phone onto his belt and climbed into the back seat of one of Redstone Security’s unmarked SUVs with Dixon Turley driving him, which still struck him as silly.
***
ON TROY’S AGENDA BEFORE going to Mom’s house was a stop-off at the coliseum to pay a couple of kids who had helped him during the cutting finals. Being teenagers, they wanted cash. Once there, he found his two helpers with no problem and settled up with them.
Someone was working in the arena, even this close to Christmas. Cutting horse trainers were that dedicated. Many shows and competitions occurred around the holidays.
He walked into the bleacher area and looked down on a small herd of calves milling in one end of the arena. A trainer he knew, Jason Drummond, approached him. Drummond yanked off his glove and put out his right hand. “Hey, Troy. Good to see you, guy. Merry Christmas.”
Troy shook hands. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Jason.”
“Saw your ride in the Finals. Great horse. I heard she belonged to you personally.”
“Thanks. Yeah, she was a breeding experiment my sister and I teamed up on. We’re proud of her.” Troy stuffed his hands into his coat pockets against the chill inside the vast building.
“She’s out of Sandy Dandy? You must’ve spent a shitload for semen, man. Who’s her mama?”
“A mare I raised from a foal, Fancy Lady.”
“You use that new procedure they’re doing down at A&M?”
“Uh, yeah. My sister’s been down there. She knows all about it.”
“Expensive, I heard. Whatcha doing here today?”
“Settling up a couple of bills. What are you doing here?”
“Doing a little work with Belle’s Star. You know how it is. Gotta keep her in shape. Taking her to a show in Scottsdale soon as Christmas is over.”
“Ah. I know the one. Should be a good show.”
“Yeah. Arizona’s nice this time of year. Probably spend New Years in Vegas.” His brows bobbed up and down. ... “Oh, hey, when did Pic and his wife split up?”
Instantly, caution flared within Troy. The cutting horse society was a hotbed of gossip and the Lockharts were frequently the topic. Usually, Kate was the unlucky victim, but sometimes the BS spilled over onto other members of the family. He angled a look at Drummond. “They didn’t. Why do you ask that?”
“No special reason. I’m staying at the Omni Hotel. A couple of days ago I rode down on the elevator with her and a guy. He looked like a boyfriend.”
Troy’s brow pulled into a frown. “Mandy? ... You sure?”
Drummond cocked his head. “Pretty sure. She’s a chick you don’t forget.”
Shit! What the hell was going on with Mandy? Troy glanced down at his boot toes, then back up at Drummond. “Did you know who she was with? Or what she was doing there?”
Drummond’s head shook. “Never saw him before. Big, tough-looking dude. Buzz-cut hair. Had on a suit.”
In other words, Mandy’s companion wasn’t a cowboy. The description could fit Chris Taylor. Or at least half the Redstone Security employees. “Oh. That was probably her bodyguard. We’ve all got personal security now.” He tilted his head toward Turley who stood a few feet away.
“Yeah, I heard that. What’s that about?”
Troy gave him his stock answer. “Long story. Tell you some other time.”
Raising his brow, Drummond chuckled. “He was guarding her body all right. Looked like he didn’t want to let her go. As for what she was doing, well ... She’d had a few. I wouldn’t want to speculate, but...” He shrugged. “Pic and her get a divorce or what?”
Troy’s thoughts muddled. Jesus, Mandy was drunk? And with a guy? Were she and Pic not getting along? “Uh, no. Everything’s okay. Must be a reason they were there.”
Drummond gave a wicked chuckle. “I just be there is. Listen, how many mares you got foaling come spring?”
Troy couldn’t get Mandy out of his mind. And Pic. And Chris. “Uh, eleven. Not all of them mine. A couple of foals are already spoken for.”
“Well, good luck.” Drummond put out his right hand again. “Good to see you, buddy. Take care, you hear?”
Troy shook again. “Yeah, you too, Jason. Good luck in Arizona.”
Troy left the coliseum, the conversation with Jason Drummond a whirlpool in his mind. What the hell was going on with Mandy and Pic? Or more to the point, Mandy and Chris? Was Mandy fucking around behind Pic’s back? Troy stopped that thought dead in its tracks. No way. Mandy worshipped Pic.
