Oklahoma Moonshine (The McIntyre Men #1) (12 page)

BOOK: Oklahoma Moonshine (The McIntyre Men #1)
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He nodded. “You got a dollar on you?”

She frowned. “Sure I do.”

“Fork it over.”

Weird, but okay. She dug in her purse, pulled out the 50 bucks she’d conned out of that farm wife the day before, looked at it for a second, stuffed
it back in and kept digging. Eventually, she’d scared up three quarters, two nickels, a dime and five pennies. He held out his hand and she dropped
the change in.

“That’s my retainer,” he said. Not a word about her scraping the bottom of the barrel to get it for him. “You’re now my
client, and attorney-client privilege applies.”

She sighed in relief, leaned back in the giant chair, and thought he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d cheat. “So, I’m sure
you know about the guy who was asking about me around town yesterday?” He nodded. “I want to track him down and find out what he wants.”

“Oh.” He grimaced and sucked air through his teeth. “I...don’t know about that.”

“Why?”

“Just…he seemed angry and…dangerous. And big.”

“I could see that from the picture.” And from the condition of Rob’s gorgeous face.

“But you don’t know him,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. But I want to know what’s up. I guess…Rob said your brother-in-law the cop took his info. I just want his
number. I want to see this photo he’s been showing around town of me and find out what he’s up to.”

“Guess I can’t blame you for that.” He picked up a pencil and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger for a minute. “What if I
could track him down and talk to him on your behalf.”

She shook her head. “No. I need to talk to him myself.”

He nodded, tapping the pencil on the edge of his desk. There were little marks that suggested he did that a lot. “Would you object to me going with
you? Maybe standing in the shadows, out of earshot? It would give you privacy for your discussion, and protection in case he has anything…unpleasant
on his mind.”

“Not necessary. I’m not scared of him.” She’d been dealing with men, crooks as well as marks, her whole life. She’d never met
one she couldn’t either outsmart or flirt into submission. “I really need to do this myself. Can you get me the information?”

He nodded. “I can. I will. I’ll call the PD and ask for it. However, you should be aware there’s a good chance Jimmy—Chief
Corona—is gonna ask why I want it. And I’m gonna have to tell him it’s for a client and therefore privileged, and he’s gonna figure
it’s either you or Rob.”

She sighed. “Well that kind of stinks for my privacy.”

He nodded. “It does. If you’re sticking around Big Falls, and I assume you are, being that you just bought a ranch, I should warn you that
there’s not much that goes unnoticed. Small town. Huge grapevine. And the family….” He just shook his head.

“Yeah, I got that already.” She smiled involuntarily. “It’s kind of nice, actually.”

“And kind of not,” he said. “But the nice outweighs the not, and you get used to it. You even start to rely on it. I’ll be as sly
as I can, okay?”

“Okay.”

He picked up his phone, punched a button. “Hey, Brenda. Get me Lucy at the BFPD front desk, will you?”

He waited a second, drumming his fingers, then sat up straighter. “Hi, Lucy. It’s Cal at the law office. Fine, and yours?” Smiling,
laughing. Was everyone in this town friends with everyone else? “Listen, Lucy, I need the info on that guy who got into the fight at Gregg’s
Gas & Go yesterday.” There was a pause, and then he was scribbling on a notepad. “No, not for vengeance,” he said with a laugh.
“This is strictly business. Thanks, Lucy.” He hung up the phone, tore the sheet off his notepad and handed it across the desk to her.

Kiley turned it over and looked at it. Dax J. Russell’s address, cell phone, and home phone numbers, along with his birthdate, driver’s license
ID number, and the make, model and plate number of his car were written in easy-to-read block letters. “Wow. That was easy.”

“It was, and Lucy didn’t ask who it was for, just whether I was out to avenge Rob’s black eye.” He smiled. He was genuinely nice,
she thought. This town was apparently full of unicorns. “Now I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” she said.

“You want a job?”

Her brows shot up high. It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “What, here?”

“Yeah. My secretary just gave notice. She’s moving to Memphis. Her husband got a job offer he couldn’t turn down. You probably noticed
the tears. She’s been here a long time, and she’s feeling guilty as hell about leaving me in the lurch.”

“But I don’t…know anything about…law.” Other than how to break it, that was.

“You can answer phones and emails, yes?”

“Well, yeah. Anybody can do that.”

“You’d be surprised. Look, my business is small. Local cases, nothing complicated. The main qualification is trustworthiness. Nothing that
happens in this office, not even who comes and goes, is to be discussed with anyone besides me. Ever. Can you handle that?”

“Sure can.” She sighed. “But I mean, there’s going to be so much to do at the ranch.”

“There will be. But there’s not yet. It’s the middle of summer. Too late to plant pumpkins or corn for the corn maze.”

“You know about my plans?”

“Rob told me. He thinks you’re brilliant, and so do I, by the way.”

“He does?” Why did she suddenly feel warm all over?

He smiled wide. “He does. Look, take two weeks to think about it. I’ll look for other options in the meantime. No pressure. Okay?”

“Sure. Okay.”

All the way back to the ranch, she kept replaying Caleb’s words in her head. She had to be trustworthy. That seemed to be a running theme in this
family. Truthfulness. Honesty.

Going straight had been kind of an abstract notion to her. In her mind it had meant making enough money in legal ways to allow her to quit having to make
it in illegal ways.

But now it was starting to become really clear to her that she’d had it wrong. It wasn’t about money at all; it was about people. About being
honest and truthful with people. Which meant trusting them enough to make herself vulnerable to them. It was about being the kind of person others could
think of as trustworthy too, the kind they felt they could make themselves vulnerable to.

Her father’s voice whispered through her memory.
Being honest with other people is like showing your belly and trusting them not to slice it open. Never tell the truth when a lie will do.

But that was what real honesty seemed to require. Exposing your belly and trusting.

And maybe that had to come before the rest of it. She had to trust people enough. And too, she was starting to think she had to quit the old life
completely before the new one could open up for her.

She turned onto Pine Road, but when she got to Holiday Ranch she drove right past, and kept going another half hour north, to that thriving farm where
she’d been the day before. She pulled the car off onto the shoulder, took the fifty bucks from her purse, and tucked it into the mailbox.

And then she drove away, feeling as if the weight of the world had lifted from her shoulders. She felt light. Almost giggly, she felt so light. It was some
kind of high.

It occurred to her that she would probably get that same feeling again and again if she paid back every person she’d ever conned. And all of the
sudden, it didn’t seem like such an impossible idea, or a stupid one.

Was that it then? Was she finally going straight? Had she actually gone straight already, instead of just intending to? She thought so. If felt like a
defining moment in her life. It felt so important that she had to pull over to the side of the road, because there were tears in her eyes and she
couldn’t see.

She sat there, mulling, and nodding, and realizing that she had never felt this good about herself in her life. That made her so confident, she decided to
face her next challenge head on. She took the note Caleb had given her out of her jean’s pocket, and tapped the stranger’s number into her cell
phone.

 

Chapter Eight

 

Kiley figured if she was a normal person, she’d be nervous, heading out to meet with a stranger who was reportedly pretty upset with her sister. She
should probably be afraid he wouldn’t believe she was Kendra’s twin, or that he’d hurt her or something like that.

She wasn’t afraid, though. She was more nervous around Rob and his family than she would be around some lowlife thug. And he had to be a lowlife
thug, if he’d ever been involved with Kendra. She knew his kind. She knew a hundred. She’d grown up around his kind.

She
was
his kind.

“Not anymore,” she whispered.

She parked at a meter, and dutifully put in a quarter instead of just taking her chances like she normally would. “Let ‘em ticket me. Good luck
getting paid.” That’s what she’d have muttered at the parking meter once. Respectable people put the darn quarters in.

She was trying to become a better woman, an honest woman—a confident, capable, respected and respectable woman, like those Brand women were.

Any nerves she might’ve been developing when she reached her destination evaporated as soon as she walked into Maude’s. The coffee house was as
warm and welcoming as any place she’d ever been, with little sitting areas situated all around, every one of them unique.

It was the kind of place where conversations broke out between strangers on sugar-highs from the mouthwatering treats behind the glass; cookies, eclairs,
doughnuts, danishes, even a couple of pies.

“Welcome to Maude’s,” said a beautiful blonde. “I’m Carly, the owner. And you’re a first timer! You get a free
treat.”

Kiley looked at the glass case and her mouth watered. “Can I get it on the way out? I’m meeting someone. A big grouchy mean guy who’s
been harassing my sister, and really doesn’t deserve a free treat anywhere near as much as my partner Rob does.”

The woman pulled in her chin and lifted her brows. “You need backup?”

“Nah, I got this.”

“I’ll keep an eye on you just in case. Go on, pick a spot. I’ll bring you something to drink. Coffee?”

Kiley looked around at the frothy, foamy, pricey drinks others were slurping. Not yet, she thought. But one day soon, it wouldn’t be a luxury to
order a fancy-assed coffee. “Just a plain coffee, thanks.”

“Iced mocha latte is today’s special. Same price as a regular coffee. You should try it.” Carly’s smile was friendly and
infectious.

“Okay, I will, thanks.” As the woman went to make her latte, Kiley headed to the cozy nook near the fireplace, even though it wasn’t
burning at the moment. After all, it was July in Oklahoma—no way a fire was going to bring in the customers. More likely to drive them out.

She sat down on a curving leather sofa in front of a glass table and looked around the place. Everyone who caught her eye flashed a warm smile. A little
girl waved at her. She’d forgotten how friendly and intimate small-town life could be. Even here in Tucker Lake, which was a much bigger small-town
than Big Falls.  She remembered her father complaining about everybody knowing everybody’s business, and she’d come back fully prepared to
hate that aspect, too.

But it didn’t feel at all hateful to her. It felt kind of good. Kind of comforting, and maybe even a little bit secure.

The door jangled, and Kiley looked up to see a man she recognized, but only from the photo on Rob’s phone. He was even bigger in person, and when he
looked her way and scowled, she was happy to see that he was sporting a black eye, bruised chin, and a cut eyebrow.

Go, Robby.

Carly brought a giant mugful of sugar topped in whipped cream trying to pass itself off as coffee, and set it in front of her. Leaning in, she whispered,
“That him?”

“Yep.”

“I think you need backup.”

“Nope.”

“I’m calling my dad anyway.” She nodded and  walked away as Dax J whatever—who looked like what would happen if John Cena and
the The Rock made a test-tube baby—strode toward Kiley

She stood up, not to be polite but because the way he was moving toward her was so aggressive she thought he might try to hit her. She could dodge big
meaty fists better standing up. He kept coming, looking angrier and angrier.

Reflexively, she held up both hands. “I’m not Kendra.”

“The hell you aren’t.” But he stopped in his tracks, standing right there beside the table near the teardrop-shaped seat across from
hers.

“I’m her twin sister, Kiley.”

He narrowed his eyes, then his brow impersonated an accordion. “You have blue eyes.”

She nodded. “Kendra’s are green.”

He lifted his brows. “Tinted contacts.”

She spread her right eyelid wide and leaned up at him. “You can touch it if you wash your hands first. But I think you can see there’s no lens
in my eye.”

He leaned in. His breath smelled of root beer. He wasn’t so scary.

“I’m right handed, she’s left.  My eyes are blue, hers are green, and besides all of that, there’s this.” She slapped
her proof on the wooden table, a newspaper clipping. She’d made copies in case she ever lost it, but she figured the original would be more
impressive in this case.

Woman, 23, Dies in Tragic Fire
.

He frowned hard at the story. There was a photo of Kendra, and a block of text beside it. Kiley knew what it said by heart.
Kendra Kellogg, who would have been twenty-four years old in September, was killed in a fire that destroyed the house she shared with five other young
adults. She is survived by her twin sister, Kiley. The cause of the fire is under investigation.

The reporter had a heart. Didn’t mention the house was a halfway house, or that the five other young adults were five other petty thieves.

She watched him read it. He was a slow reader. Why was she not surprised? Finally he looked up from the clipping and dropped like a boulder into the chair
beside her.

Sighing, she said, “Hi, I’m Kiley.”

There were tears pooling in his eyes. “I’m Dax,” he said. “I can’t believe she’s really—” He couldn’t
say it.

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