Army Ranger Redemption (12 page)

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Authors: Carol Ericson

BOOK: Army Ranger Redemption
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“Even though we’re supposed to look like we’re not talking about the Timberline Trio case,” he said as he took her hand across the table, “doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it.”

“Did your brother open up to you any more today?”

“No, but he did say he met with Chewy.”

Her fingers toyed with his. “Your brother, Chewy and Rusty were all in town at around the same time and one of them ends up dead. Then Granny tells us that a couple of members of the old Q-gang show up out of the blue, including my uncle.”

“I think they’re all here for the same reason, and it has something to do with their association years ago at the time of the kidnappings.”

“I think you’re right, but nobody’s talking.”

The waiter approached their table and took their drink orders.

“You don’t mind if I have a beer, do you?”

“No, but if you have more than one, I’ll take the wheel on the way home.”

“That’s a deal. I’ll probably need about five after the day I had.” She held up her hands. “Just kidding.”

“Go ahead and have five, Scarlett, if you want. I’m not a leading member of the temperance movement or anything.”

“When did you give up drinking?”

“When I was in the army.”

“Helluva time to swear off booze.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Did you call Dr. Shipman this afternoon?”

“By the time I thought about it, she’d left for the day. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

The waiter returned with her beer and Jim’s soda. “Are you ready to order?”

When they’d placed their orders and the waiter left, Jim asked, “You don’t mind that I ordered pork chops, do you?”

“I’m not the leader of the vegetarian movement, either.” She clinked her glass against his and took a sip of her beer.

Jim hunched forward and touched his finger to her upper lip. “Foam.”

“Smooth move, Kennedy.”

“That wasn’t for show. You really did have some foam on your mouth.”

She licked her lips. “What if you just gave it up? What if you just let that particular sleeping dog lie? Something unexplainable happened to you as a child. Can you let it go?”

“Not sure.” He stirred his ice with his straw. “It haunted me when I was...imprisoned. Funny, all the things they did to me in captivity and my constant nightmare was the attempted kidnapping.”

“Maybe because it happened to you as a child, it holds a special terror. I’m not sure we ever get over our childhood fears.”

“And what was yours? All I ever saw was a confident, pretty girl who knew what she wanted in life and went out to get it.”

“I put up a good front.” She took a long pull from her beer, savoring the warmth in her belly. “You know I lost my parents and my baby brother in a car accident. I was supposed to be in that car.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother. I’m sorry.”

“He wasn’t even a year old. I should’ve stopped all of them that day.”

“How old were you?”

“Six, and before you start in with the ‘you were too young’ business, I believe that was my first experience with my special gift, only it wasn’t so special.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was supposed to be on that trip, but I faked a stomachache so I wouldn’t have to go. I had a feeling, even back then.”

He brushed his knuckles along her forearm. “And Evelyn was telling me to deal with my guilt. I hope she told you the same.”

“I’ve worked through it. How do you think I know Dr. Shipman?”

“This is supposed to be a date. We’re way too serious over here. People are going to have their suspicions confirmed that we’re working on something together.” He hunched forward on the table and kissed her mouth. “Do you think that’ll convince them otherwise?”

“It’s a start.”

She wouldn’t have minded practicing a little more convincing, but the waiter showed up with their food.

During their meal, they caught up on what they’d been doing since high school, and Jim’s eyes lit up when he talked about his work with vets.

“You had a great idea before.” She placed her fork on the edge of her plate. “Art.”

“Sculpture?”

“Any kind of art—painting, sculpture, ceramics. Is there anything like that in any of the centers where you worked?”

“Not that I noticed, but I think that could work.”

“I could probably get a fair number of my artist friends to volunteer some of their time.”

“That would be incredible if you could provide the volunteers.”

Smiling, Scarlett picked up her fork. Jim’s approval gave her a warm feeling inside. She cut off a corner of her spinach lasagna. His approval was coming to mean a lot to her—maybe too much. He had demons to slay and she had an art show in West Hollywood.

“Hey there, Scarlett.”

She dropped her fork as she met the dark gaze of her uncle, a little frisson of fear glancing the back of her neck. He’d appeared out of nowhere, just like he always did, stealthy as a cat.

“Uncle Danny. Are you back in town?”

He spread his arms, his eyes flickering toward Jim. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I—I just didn’t hear anything about your return.” She gritted her teeth at the way her voice wavered, but she had no intention of admitting she and Granny had talked about him. Her uncle could reduce her to a stammering child with one look from his cold eyes—even when she wasn’t lying to him.

“You shouldn’t depend on the reservation grapevine.” He formed his fingers into a gun and aimed it at her. “It’s usually wrong.”

“I’m sorry.” She tipped her head toward Jim. “This is Jim Kennedy. He’s a local. I went to high school with him. Jim, this is Danny Easton, my uncle.”

“I remember the Kennedy family—Slick and your brother. You a bigot, too?”

Scarlett drew in a quick breath, her eyes darting to Jim’s face.

Jim pushed his plate away and crossed his arms over his chest. “I guess they weren’t too bigoted for you and your boys to do some business with them.”

Scarlett held her breath as Danny’s lips formed a thin line and his black eyes glittered.

“Sounds like you’ve been listening to gossip from the rez, too.” He drummed his long fingers on the table. “I’d join you, Scar, but I’m meeting someone at the bar.”

“Are you going to drop in on Granny while you’re here?”

“Why? She never liked me. Never thought our family was good enough for your mother.”

Scarlett dropped her gaze to her plate and twirled the tines of her fork around a string of melted cheese. “She never had a problem with Dad.”

Danny released a soft snort, and the heels of his boots clicked away from the table.

“No family love there, huh?”

“Uncle Danny is no friend to the Quileute. He’s always been bad news. When my mom and dad started dating, Granny was concerned about her marrying into the Easton family, but like I said, she judges everyone individually. When she met my dad, she could tell he was one of the good guys—Danny, not so much.”

“I don’t remember Danny, and I sure don’t remember that he had some gang of his own.”

“That surprised me, too, but I do know that he was persona non grata around the reservation. After the accident that killed my parents, I never saw him.”

“So, another piece of the puzzle moves into position. We have Rusty, Chewy and my brother all converging on Timberline and now Danny Easton shows up. It’s like a dark cloud hovering over the town.” He shook the ice in his glass. “I suppose you’d have known if it was your own uncle holding a knife to your neck, wouldn’t you?”

“I would, but you know what’s unsettling?”

“Let’s see.” He held up his hand and ticked off his fingers. “Finding a dead body, arson, a defaced painting and a knife attack?”

“Besides all that.” She picked up her butter knife and ran her thumb along the dull, serrated edge. “The man who attacked me was wearing gloves.”


That
was the most unnerving aspect of the whole event?”

“Gloves, so he avoided skin-to-skin contact with me.”

“It wouldn’t be unusual for someone planning an attack like that to include gloves in his kit. And if he’s the same one who killed Rusty and broke into your place, we already know he doesn’t leave fingerprints.”

“I know that, but there’s another reason why he’d wear gloves in an attack on me—there’s always the chance that I’ll flash on him. You know, feel his touch and be able to determine something about him.”

“So you think it’s someone who knows you or knows about your special gifts.”

“Uncle Danny knows all about that—and how those gifts work.”

Jim jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Can you see who he’s meeting at the bar?”

“He’s behind the wall that separates that half of the bar from the dining room. I can’t see him.”

“Trip to the ladies’ room? Men’s room is on the other side.”

“Good idea.” Scarlett swept her napkin from her lap and dropped it beside her plate. She didn’t even have to be obvious about spying on Danny, since she could walk to the ladies’ room through the dining room without passing through the bar. She turned left into the passageway to the restroom, without looking into the bar.

While she washed her hands, she peered into the mirror to make sure she didn’t have any spinach in her teeth. She was still treating this as a date, even though it had veered off its intended course with the appearance of Uncle Danny.

She tossed a paper towel into the trash and then hit the swinging door with her hip to open it. She meant to glance quickly to her right just to check out Danny and his companions, but what she saw halted her in her tracks and made her blood boil.

She swerved into the bar and poked her cousin Jason in the back. “What are you doing with him?”

Danny’s lips curled into a half smile and Jason jumped. “Scarlett. What are you doing here?”

“I’m having dinner with Jim. More to the point, what are
you
doing here and what are you doing with Danny?”

“I—I just came in to pick up a check for Chloe, who’s not feeling well, and I ran into your uncle.”

“Really? Because he just got through telling me he was meeting someone here.”

Danny patted her shoulder. “I am, Scarlett, and it’s not Jason. Relax. I’m not corrupting your cousin. Besides, shouldn’t you be more worried about J.T. and Dax Kennedy corrupting him? At least I’m not an ex-con.”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be.” She shook her finger in Jason’s face. “Whatever he’s offering, it’s sure to have a high price down the road. It’s not worth it. Just keep doing what you’re doing, Jason.”

She spun around as Danny called after her. “Always nice to see you, Scar.”

She flounced back to the table and dropped into her chair.

“What happened? Who’s Danny meeting?”

“My cousin Jason.”

“Is Danny his uncle, too?”

“No, Jason and Annie are my mom’s brother’s kids—Fosters, not Eastons.”

“You don’t want Jason associating with Danny?”

“Danny doesn’t show interest in family unless he thinks he can get something out of it. I’m just worried he’s filling Jason’s head with all kinds of get-rich-quick schemes—illegal get-rich-quick schemes.”

Jim shifted forward, his knees bumping hers beneath the table. “Jason seems like he’s got his head on straight.”

“Yeah, but construction work has been slowing down for him, and Chloe’s still trying to finish school, but she had to drop out last semester. Money’s tight for them, and I know how persuasive Uncle Danny can be.”

“Do you want me to talk to Jason?” Jim’s lips twisted. “I have some experience in resisting the dark forces around me.”

“Would you?” She grabbed his hand. “That would be awesome.”

“He’s coming by to look at his bike tomorrow. I’ll give him an earful then.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “This hasn’t been much of a romantic date, has it?”

“Honestly?” She brushed her fingertips across his dark stubble. “This has been one of the best dates I’ve had in a long time.”

“Those artist types must be a dull bunch, but just to amp up the romance—I paid the check while you were sleuthing in the bar.”

“Positively makes my heart flutter.”

“Imagine what I could do if I really tried.”

As she met his smoldering gaze, her heart really did flutter.

She grabbed her purse. “I’m ready to get out of here.”

“Me, too.”

As Scarlett rose from her chair and squeezed past a table on her way to the exit, Darcy Kiesling, an old friend from high school, stopped her. “I heard someone attacked you today. Are you all right?”

“I’m okay. It was a threat, not exactly an attack.”

“I don’t care what you call it. Someone held a knife to your throat.” Darcy pressed a hand to her own throat. “Did the guy really warn you about looking into the Timberline Trio case?”

“Maybe.” Scarlett shrugged. “I don’t know why he’s warning me. I’m not looking into anything.”

“Hmm, I wish that whole thing would go away.” Darcy’s gaze tracked to Jim and she gave him a head-to-toe.

“Darcy, do you remember Jim Kennedy?”

“I do, and do you remember Renée Meyers?”

After they said hello to Renée, Darcy introduced them to the other two women at the table. Only Renée was a local. The other two were recent transplants, but from the way all of them were eyeing Jim, it was clear the man was just as sexy as the boy had been—more so.

Darcy flipped her hair over her shoulder. “What happened to your leg, Jim?”

“It’s a long story, Darcy, and I don’t want to ruin your dinner. Enjoy your evening.”

He limped away from the table and Scarlett smiled sweetly. “Good night.”

She caught Jim by the arm as they stepped onto the sidewalk. “I think you just
did
ruin their dinner.”

“Was I too harsh?”

“Just a little.” She held her thumb and forefinger about a half an inch apart. “Does it bother you when people ask about your leg?”

“I can understand the curiosity, especially from people who knew me before. It’s just not a subject for polite discussion. Do you really think Darcy and her tipsy friends want to hear what happened to me in that hole?”

Scarlett stopped walking and tugged on Jim’s back pocket to slow him down. “They probably don’t want to hear, but I’m all ears if you ever want to unburden yourself.”

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