Getting Lucky (A Nugget Romance Book 5) (13 page)

“Slow, but otherwise good. Thanks for asking.”

“How’s Katie? Heard anything yet?”

“Tawny and I went to Stanford today for more tests. Keep your fingers crossed.”

“The whole town is, Lucky.”

“I appreciate that, Mariah.” He held the glass up in a salute, but didn’t want the damn whiskey.

“Don’t do that again,” Jake said in a low voice as he came up behind Lucky. “The last thing we need is someone seeing you going into the police station. We don’t want to give anyone the idea that it isn’t business as usual.”

“Have you started yet?” Lucky asked. “I haven’t seen anyone out there.”

“If you had, it would defeat the purpose, now wouldn’t it?”

“Then you’ve started?”

Jake let out frustrated breath. “Not here. Not now.”

“Then when? I want some answers.”

“We’re doing our thing. You do yours.” He waved to Mariah. “How’s Lilly?”

Mariah burst into a grin. Lilly was Mariah and Sophie’s baby. Beautiful little girl.

“Growing every day.”

“Last time I saw her was at Nate and Sam’s wedding,” Jake said.

“We just got the pictures back. When you have time, I’ll show them to you. In the meantime, can I get you something, Detective?”

“I’m picking up a dinner order for Rhys and me.”

“I’ll see if Tater has it ready.” Mariah walked into the back.

“Pulling a late night?” Lucky asked, cocking his brows.

“Yep.” Jake proceeded to ignore him until Mariah came back with his to-go order. He reached over the bar to grab it from her. “Thanks.”

“Take care, Detective,” Mariah called to him. “You hungry, Lucky?”

“Nah, I’ve got to get back to the ranch, see if we’ve made any progress.” He threw back the drink, pushed his stool away from the bar, and wandered outside. Yup, the days were certainly getting shorter.

At the ranch he found Raylene sitting on the hood of her truck. She looked so beautiful perched there with her blond hair blowing in the breeze.

“What are you doing?” he called to her.

“Waiting for you.”

He liked having the woman of his dreams waiting for him when he got home. Lately, though, his dreams of Raylene didn’t seem as sharp as they once had. Just elusive memories of a young girl who’d held his heart for so long he couldn’t imagine not loving her.

“Why didn’t you go inside?” He tilted his head at the trailer. “It’s getting cold.” And he didn’t like the idea of her being out here alone. Not now that he knew what he was dealing with on the ranch.

“I don’t mind it. How did it go at the doctor’s?”

He made the so-so gesture with his hand. “More tests.”

“I thought you were a match,” she said.

“Apparently it’s not that simple. We should know in a few days.”

Raylene jumped off the hood and flew into his arms.

“Everything okay?” He tilted her chin up.

“I just missed you. Let’s go inside.”

He did a quick survey before unlocking the door to the single-wide. Everything looked quiet, but he wanted to check the livestock. “You wait in here. I want to take a quick pass through the corrals.” Lucky left his phone on the kitchen counter and started to head out.

“Lucky, they’re just cows,” Raylene called, sounding pouty.

Those “cows,” and the other rough stock he’d acquired, were worth a small fortune. “Five minutes, baby. Turn the heat on.” He was surprised when she didn’t put up more of a fuss.

Lucky took his truck because it was quicker. At least the crew seemed to have made some headway on the new barn where Lucky planned to keep his cutting horses. He wanted to kick himself for cheaping out and not hiring Pat Donnelly’s people. Pat had contracted the job on his big barn, the one the Lumber Baron planned to use for weddings and other party events. Of course, Nate had shelled out the money on that project as part of their joint deal. And Pat’s folks had done a beautiful job and had come in on schedule.

And the biggest bonus: They weren’t drug dealers.

Son of a bitch! The whole thing pissed Lucky off. And Jake had sealed up tighter than a drum. Lucky had no idea the status of the investigation. At this very minute the place could be swarming with deputies, which would be fine with him. But what if it wasn’t and Raylene, here alone, had seen something she shouldn’t have? A man’s ranch was his sanctuary. He shouldn’t have to worry about his loved ones being safe.

He walked through the rows of corrals, stopping a few times to scratch heads. In a few years the offspring from these animals would be used in rodeos and PBR events across the country. The sperm alone from some of his breeding bulls would fetch top dollar. Lucky planned the tamer stock to use for the cowboy camp so the amateurs wouldn’t hurt themselves.

Bernice had gotten out of her pen again to cuddle next to Crème Bullee. Apparently the ewe hadn’t gotten the memo that she was a sheep. Lucky let her stay there. The two seemed to like each other.

He climbed up the fence and sat with his legs dangling, assessing all that he could see. Even back when it was the old Roland camp, he’d loved this place. As a kid he used to work summers in the barn, helping the stable guys ready the horses for the guests’ trail rides. Never in those days had he imagined he’d be able to afford a ranch like this. The property even butted up to the Feather River, with some of the best fishing this side of the county.

Now, with Katie in the picture, he wanted more than a bachelor’s apartment. There was a knoll not far from here with killer views of the river and mountains, and lately Lucky had been toying with the idea of building a home—a real home. For that he’d want Colin Burke doing the work. He’d seen what the man did on his own house. On Mariah and Sophie’s home, too. Both were beauts.

Lucky looked up. Plenty of stars in the sky, and he could smell a cold front moving in. Not snow necessarily, but a definite drop in temperature. Bring it on. He’d always loved fall and winter in Nugget, especially the holidays. For Thanksgiving his mother did it up, and for Christmas she made her famous tamales. And even though they’d been poor as peasants, Cecilia had always managed to put lots of gifts under the tree.

This year they’d have Katie, which gave him a wave of pleasure. Lucky had never thought about having kids. Not that he was against it, but besides Raylene, he’d never met anyone who made him want to settle down. And truth be told, Raylene didn’t seem much like the settling down type—at least not these days. Twice he’d asked her to move into the trailer with him and each time she’d come up with an excuse.
It’s too small for the both of us,
or
I just got out of a bad marriage
. And on and on.

He couldn’t say he blamed her, and a part of him was starting to think it would be a bad idea anyway. Certainly not the honeymoon he used to envision. The two of them didn’t have a whole lot to say to each other, unless Raylene was complaining about Butch. Lucky expected that when she became less bitter, he and Raylene would get back into a groove again.

Then he’d spend less time confiding in Tawny.

He was thinking that he ought to call Tawny to see how Katie was feeling but couldn’t find his phone. That’s when he heard it. Two loud gunshots that echoed through the trees like firecrackers. He hit the dirt running.

“G
us is dead?”

“Gus is dead,” Jake told Lucky, feeling terrible that the kid was so shaken up. There was nothing he could’ve done. “Lucky, this is no longer a drug investigation.”

“Jesus.” Lucky mopped the sweat from his forehead and looked out over his property, now crawling with cops. “He was breathing when I found him. Just barely, but breathing.”

Well, he wasn’t anymore. “He took two in the gut.” Jake watched a coroner’s van come up the road. “Raylene get home okay?”

“Yeah. I talked to her a few minutes ago. She’s freaked but home safe and sound.”

“Good.” He looked Lucky in the eye. “Does she know what’s going on?”

“About the drugs . . . the sting?” Lucky asked, and Jake nodded. “No. All she knows is that my fence guy got shot.”

“You can’t stay on the property, Lucky. It’s a crime scene now. Your mother is expecting you.”

“You called my mother?” Lucky threw his hands up, like
WTF?

Now that Jake thought about it, it was something you’d say to an errant teenager.
Your mother is expecting you
. “Just to tell her you’re okay . . . I didn’t want her worrying.”

“Does she know about—”

“Absolutely not. And I hope you’re still good on your word about not telling anyone. Especially now.”

“You guys were supposed to be on this.” Lucky laced his hands behind his head and shut his eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Jake would’ve liked to explain that there was no way that the police could’ve anticipated this. But he couldn’t. All he could say was, “It’s a mess.”

“Ya think?” Lucky snapped, and Jake could understand his frustration. The shooting would not only stall his project, but it wasn’t the best publicity for a new business trying to attract tourists. “How soon can I come back?”

“As soon as we’re done processing the scene—probably a couple of days.”

“Who will feed my animals?”

“I’ll do it,” Jake said, and Lucky looked at him like he was crazy. “Wyatt can help. It’s either that or someone from Animal Control will do it until we let you back in.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Lucky took off his hat and mechanically shoved his hands through his hair. Jake noticed that Lucky did it whenever he was agitated.

“We can’t have you traipsing around, compromising the scene. Make me a list of what needs to be done and I’ll make sure your stock is cared for.”

“Great!” Lucky threw up his arms.

Jake handed him a notebook and pen, and not having much of a choice, Lucky began scribbling instructions.

In his pocket, Jake felt his phone vibrate, looked at the caller ID and answered. “Everything is fine, sweetheart . . . He’s right here.” He handed the phone to Lucky. “Your mother wants to talk to you.”

Jake heard Lucky mutter an expletive, but he took the phone and walked over to a quiet corner. Crime scene investigators from the sheriff ’s department had begun setting up klieg lights so they could comb the area looking for spent casings—although they were pretty sure the weapon was a revolver—footprints, and any other evidence they could find. The coroner’s van sat at the ready while someone took pictures of Gus.

“Hey, Jake.” Harlee came trudging up the walkway with her laptop and a camera.

“You know you’re not supposed to come in here. It’s a working crime scene, Harlee.”

She gave a half shrug. “I was hoping you could fill me in on the details. Just a little bit.” She made an inch with her fingers. “Rhys is being a dick and I want to update the website.”

Jake smothered a chuckle. “Rhys is a little busy. What do you have so far?”

“Not a lot. Just that a man was shot and killed on Lucky’s property about an hour ago. I don’t have an ID, I don’t know if anyone is in custody, and I don’t know what the altercation was about.”

“On background?” Jake said.

“Sure. Can I attribute it to a law enforcement source?”

“Well, that would kind of narrow it down, wouldn’t it?” Since there were only three of them in the department. “How about just a source close to the case.” That would include just about anyone living within a five-mile radius and would give Jake cover.

“Okay,” she said, and got her notepad out.

“We don’t have anyone in custody. We don’t know what the altercation was about, and the victim was Gus Clamper. Common spelling. I don’t know his DOB, you’ll have to check his DMV file or the Registrar of Voters. But, Harlee, we haven’t notified the next of kin yet, so you may want to hold off.” Jake knew she wouldn’t, but at least he’d made the effort.

“Why was he on the property in the first place?”

“He was fixing Lucky’s fences.”

“At seven at night?” She looked doubtful. Smart girl.

“A number of Lucky’s workers who live a ways away are staying at the ranch in bunkhouses.”

“Where is Gus from?”

“Placer County.”

“Does he have a family? A record?”

“You know I can’t discuss criminal history,” he said.

“Jake, the courts are closed.”

“The Internet is open twenty-four-seven. You’re gonna have to work for this one, sweetheart.”

“What about family?” she pressed.

“Dunno.”

“Is Lucky a suspect?”

“Everyone’s a suspect.”

“Jake?” Harlee pinned him with a look. “Throw me a bone, here.”

“Let’s put it this way: If you were to print that Lucky is a suspect it would be journalistically irresponsible.”

“That means you have someone else in mind. Who?”

“That’s all I’ve got.” Jake liked Harlee. She was just as pushy as the reporters in LA, but a hell of a lot more charming. And her husband made spectacular furniture. “Don’t burn me, Harlee. Now get out of here before I have one of the deputies escort you off the property.”

Later, he saw her sitting inside her fifteen-year-old Pathfinder on the other side of the yellow tape, clacking away on her laptop.

“Hey, Deep Throat. How goes it?” Rhys sidled up to Jake. “You read the story yet?”

“It’s up already?” Jake looked over at Harlee again. She was still typing.

“She updates it every couple of minutes.” Rhys held up his phone. “If you sign up, you get automatic mobile alerts. Did you know Gus was arrested three years ago in Placer County for breaking a bottle over a bartender’s head?”

Jake smiled. “This is probably the biggest story she’s had since turning that little rag around. Don’t get a lot of shootings up here, unless it’s some idiot hunter.”

“Well, she’s got shit in that story that I didn’t even know.”

“She’s good,” Jake said.

“Yeah, she’s good. Hopefully we’ll have this thing wrapped up in a few days,” Rhys said.

Jake wasn’t so sure. Gus’s shooting had certainly complicated their dope case. Especially since the guy who’d killed him didn’t have one thing to do with the drug investigation—at least according to Jake’s witness.

 

On Lucky’s way to his mother’s house, Tawny called. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just homeless for a few days while they process the scene. How did you hear about it so soon?”

“The
Nugget Tribune
. I get alerts for breaking news.”

Great, Lucky thought. Just what he needed. “I was thinking of swinging by and checking on Katie.”

“She’s asleep,” Tawny said. “But if you want to look in on her, that would be okay.”

A few minutes later, Lucky pulled up into Tawny’s driveway. The light on the front porch was on. He climbed the stairs and quietly tapped on the window, not wanting to wake Katie up. It was such a tiny place that sound traveled.

Tawny opened the door in jeans and a sweater. Different from what she’d worn to the doctor’s. It hardly seemed like the trip to Palo Alto had happened on the same day as the shooting.

“Hey,” she said.

Lucky didn’t know what possessed him, but he pulled her into a hug and held her until she molded to him. For a second he forgot himself and put his hand on her backside to press her against him. Bad idea. He felt himself getting hard and let her go. It was just the strain of the day, he told himself.

She pretended not to be flustered, but Lucky knew she was.

“Did you see the shooting?”

“No. I was out by the corrals, checking on the animals, and I heard it. Raylene was at the trailer, so I ran back. It was like everything happened in a split second.”

“The article didn’t say anything about Raylene being there,” Tawny said, and Lucky sensed that it bothered her, but his head was so fogged he might’ve imagined it.

“The cops cleared the place as soon as they got there. Before Harlee showed up.”

“Where was he shot?” Tawny asked, keeping her voice down so as not to wake Katie.

“Over by one of the bunkhouses. When I got there one of the crew members was trying to staunch the blood. Gus was barely breathing.”

“Did any of them see what happened?”

Lucky blew out a breath. “If they did, they ain’t talking to me. Jake and Rhys and a bunch of sheriff’s deputies interrogated the whole lot of ’em and collected all the guns. These clowns were housing a freaking arsenal on my property.”

Tawny’s eyes grew wide. “Why?”

Ah hell. He’d probably said too much. “Uh, it’s common with construction crews. A lot of equipment and material theft. They like to guard their stuff.”

“Still,” Tawny said. “Why would’ve someone shot the man? You think he was stealing from them?”

“I don’t know. It could’ve been anything.” He tilted his head to look at her. The sweater she wore matched her green eyes. “You got something to drink?”

“Juice, water, soda, or I could make some coffee or tea.”

Lucky had been hoping for something harder. “Coffee would be good.” He wouldn’t be sleeping anyway.

Tawny led him into the kitchen. “Did you know him?”

“Gus? Not like we were pals, but he was my employee. We talked occasionally. He seemed like a decent enough guy.” Until Lucky had learned that he was dealing dope.

“What are you planning to do?” She measured out the coffee and flipped the switch on the coffeemaker. “Will you keep the same crew on?”

“I don’t know yet.” He’d like to fire every last one of them, but he’d promised Jake he wouldn’t. “You mind if I peek in on Katie?”

“Go ahead.” She gave him a small smile, and once again Lucky was struck by what a beautiful woman she was. And easy to talk to.

He opened Katie’s bedroom door. The room, decked out with a white canopy bed, frilly pink bedding, matching curtains, and pictures of horses, always gave him an unexpected rush. He had a girly girl. Although he could do without the boy-band poster on the back of her door—Katie was too young for boy bands. His chest expanded at the sight of her sleeping with her arms around a fuzzy pink stuffed animal, her pretty brown hair spread over the top of her pillow. Tawny had told him that she’d lost a lot of it during her chemo treatments. He stood there for a few moments, watching her chest move up and down under the covers, and felt an overwhelming need to hold her. His daughter.

He shut the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake her up. “She feeling okay?” he asked.

Tawny nodded her head. “She’s had a good couple of days. Your mother’s been so helpful that I’ve been able to work on Clay’s boots.”

“That’s good,” he said. “I guess things will get hectic when we do the transplant. I’m planning to build a house.” It came out of nowhere, especially since Gus’s body was probably still lying there on his property. Perhaps he just needed something normal to talk about. “I’m gonna ditch that apartment and go big. Do something like Colin and Harlee’s place. If I can get him, I’ll hire Colin to build it.”

“Sounds nice,” Tawny said.

“I’ll put in a whole wing for Katie.”

“A whole wing?” Her brows lifted.

“You know, a bedroom, rec room where she can have her friends, and a room with a computer where she can do her homework. I’ll get her a horse, too.”

“Wow. With all that, she’ll never want to come home to me.”

Lucky looked around Tawny’s little bungalow—a crackerjack box, really—and saw her point. He didn’t want it to be a competition, just wanted to provide Katie with all he could.

“Nah, you’re her mother. You’ll always come first.”

Lucky saw Tawny’s eyes well up and moved closer. “Don’t cry, Tawny. I’m not trying to take her from you. Katie loves you.”

She used her knuckles to wipe her eyes and tried to smile. “It’s just been a crap day. That’s all.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Instead, he poured them both cups of coffee and took them into the living room, where he patted the space next to him on the couch. “Take a load off.” He grabbed a throw blanket from the back of the couch and tucked it over her lap. “It’s cold in here.”

“I’ll turn on the heat,” she said.

“I’ll get it.” He got up, found the thermostat, and cranked it up to sixty-eight degrees. Wondering if she left it off to save money, he said, “I owe you a child support check for the month.”

“No, you don’t. You already gave me money.”

“We’ve got to work that out, Tawny. I don’t think I’m paying you enough. Maybe we should talk to a lawyer about what the going rate is.”

“You pay me plenty, Lucky. I don’t want charity.”

“Who said anything about charity? Damn, Tawny, stop trying to prove your independence all the time. I don’t want to be like my old man. The guy never paid my mother a cent. I watched her kill herself to raise me like all the other kids. Same fancy tennis shoes, all the right clothes, a new winter coat every year. I’m not that man.”

“I never thought you were,” Tawny said. “You’ve been amazing. But the most important thing to me is the transplant, Lucky. That means more to me than all the money in the world.”