Spider Web (32 page)

While the rain grew harder and throttled the roof of my truck, I wondered again if I was overreacting, jumping to some huge conclusion. I contemplated what I really knew about Lin Snider. That she was curious about me and my relationship with Gabe. That she was either Lin Snider or posing as Lin Snider. That she was from Washington. That she carried the photo of a young Hispanic woman with Down syndrome who may or may not be her daughter. It was all such a jumble of suppositions. Should I go to Gabe? If it turned out to be nothing, he’d be upset that I’d manufactured a mystery where there wasn’t one. If there was something to it, did he really need to deal with it right now?

Except for one thing. I knew this man’s integrity. I knew this man’s heart. If this young woman, Tessa, was his daughter, he would take responsibility for her. He’d never turn his back on her. He would love her. Of that, I was certain.

Could I handle it, him having another child? Yes, I thought I could. Gabe loving another child didn’t bother me. Gabe having feelings for another woman. That was different. If this was his child, what had he felt for her mother, Lin?

I rubbed my aching temples, wishing there was an easy solution to this situation, wishing I knew more. I wanted to go to Gabe, not with suspicions, but with real facts.

I started the truck and drove back to the folk art museum. Right now, I had to sneak this key back into Lin’s purse before she realized it was gone.

The museum parking lot was almost empty when I drove in. I breezed through the museum and headed straight to the co-op buildings. Inside, a lone quilter, a woman named Sadie, was rolling up a half-quilted Log Cabin quilt.

“Hey, Benni,” she said.

“Hey, Sadie. Where is everyone?”

She chuckled. “Rain scared ’em off. Honestly, you Californians.” Sadie was from Oregon. “I told ’em I’d lock up when the potter is finished.” She jerked a thumb toward the hallway.

“I was born in Arkansas,” I said, laughing, without breaking stride toward my office. Down the hall, I could hear the chattering sound of a pottery wheel moving. I sent up a quick
thank you.

I went into my office and locked the door. Then I shoved Lin’s hotel key back inside the paper key packet. I placed her purse back in the drawer, took a deep breath and unlocked my office door, feeling safe for the first time in hours. It felt like I’d run the Boston marathon. Twice.

She was just removing a pot when I wandered into the room.

“Hi,” she said, looking up and smiling. “Did the rain mess up any of your errands?”

I plastered a smile on my face and said, “Not at all. I got everything done that I’d planned.”

“Glad to hear that,” she said. “I’ll be finished in a minute. I accomplished much more than I anticipated.”

“Good. Well, see you later. Just let Sadie know when you’re leaving so she can lock up. I’ve got a dinner date.”

After saying good-bye to Sadie, I decided to go to the Target in Atascadero and have my roll of film developed at their one-hour photo. Normally I took my photos to Lopez Street Drugstore downtown, but they knew me too well there. They always flipped through my photos, and someone would want to know what the story was behind my photograph of a photograph.

An hour and a half later, I had my photo of Tessa. Not that I knew what to do with it.

The truck’s clock said four o’clock. I called Gabe on his cell.

He answered after the first ring. “Ortiz at your service. Day or night. Night preferred.”

I gave him the laugh he was angling for. “I’m assuming you looked at the screen and saw it was me. And I’m assuming you’re alone?”

“Who is this?” he asked.

“Ha-ha. What time are we going to dinner?”

There was a long silence.

“How about hot chocolate with marshmallows in our own home?” I asked, saving him from making an excuse. Anything to do with the sniper had to come first. “Whenever you get there.”

“I’m sorry. A new FBI guy just came into town and wants an update right away. I’m meeting him and Detective Arnaud at my office in a half hour. We’ll probably grab dinner downtown.”

“It’s okay, Friday. Really.” Actually, I was glad our plans had changed. I was afraid I’d be distracted tonight and that, somehow, he’d pry out of me why. I needed a few hours to regain my composure. “I’ll be waiting.”

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“Run like a rabbit.” It was one of his favorite lines from the Pink Panther movies.

I hung up and sat in the Target parking lot, thinking about who I could talk to about my latest suspicions. There was really only one person who knew as much about this situation as me.

I called Emory at home. He answered on the fourth ring, his voice groggy. “Umm . . . hello?”

“It’s Benni. You sound terrible. Are you sick?”

“No. Sophie. Colic. No sleep. Napping.”

“Oh, Emory, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. Is my goddaughter okay? How’s Elvia holding up?”

“Sophie’s fine. She finally went to sleep two hours ago after sixteen hours of walking the floor. I mean us walking the floor holding her. Elvia’s in the master bedroom dead to the world. I’m in Sophie’s room sleeping on the floor. Mama Aragon is asleep in the guest room.”

“Wow. Again, I’m sorry.”

“Is there something you need?”

“No, just calling to say hi.” I wasn’t about to lay my latest problems on him right now. “I’ll catch you tomorrow when you’re back in the world of the living. Sweet dreams.”

“Love you,” he mumbled and hung up.

Okay, that left only one other person since my two best friends were out of commission. I found his number on my phone’s address list and dialed.

“Hey, ranch girl,” Hud said. “What’s up?”

“Are you free for dinner?”

“Depends on what you’re cookin’.”

“I’m not cooking anything, but I’d be happy to buy you dinner. I have . . . a dilemma.”

“Hmmm . . . sounds interesting. Where and when?”

“Liddie’s in a half hour? I don’t want this to look like a date, because it isn’t. I just need some law enforcement advice.”

“Your husband can’t help you?”

I was silent for a moment, wishing now that I’d called someone else. But who else could I call? “He’s kinda busy right now. In case you hadn’t noticed, there’s a crazy person with a loaded gun roaming the streets of San Celina.”

“This is about that lady the other night.” No grass grew under Detective Ford Hudson’s fancy alligator boots.

“Yes. I . . .” I chewed on my bottom lip. It was dry as a desert. “I sort of investigated her hotel room when she wasn’t . . . uh . . . there.”

“Breaking and entering!” Hud’s voice was positively gleeful. “A felony. Oh,
catin
, you are such a bad, bad girl.”

“I know,” I said, feeling miserable. “I really need to talk to you.”

“I’ll meet you in ten minutes. I’ll be the excited-looking one holding a yellow rose between my teeth.”

The thing about Hud was, silly as he often acted, especially around me, he understood about the need to not always do things exactly by the book. The only other people I would have trusted with this information were Emory and Elvia, but they had enough on their plate right now. I’d tell Hud the whole story and, if necessary, beg for his help.

Because the fact was, Ford Hudson was a real Texas oil millionaire. He had resources that I couldn’t even begin to touch, and I wanted him to use every one of them to find out exactly what was Lin Snider’s story.

He made it to Liddie’s before I did and had somehow, despite being a busy Sunday evening, begged or bribed Nadine into letting us have the much-in-demand back booth. It was as private as you could get at Liddie’s.

“I’ve ordered you a grilled cheese sandwich, a green salad with ranch dressing and water. I’m getting the tri-tip Cobb salad.”

“I always get a cheeseburger,” I said, sliding across from him. “And French fries.”

“Change is good. If you’re giving up Cokes, you might as well start eating healthier.”

“Who died and made you my food coach?” I grumbled.

He took off his dark brown Stetson and placed it, crown down, on the red bench seat next to him. “Quit whining. If you’re good, I’ll buy you a piece of pie. Butterscotch tonight.”

That perked me up. Butterscotch was my favorite. “I don’t know where to begin.”

He sat back in the seat, one arm resting over the back. “You might start with who is this lady whose hotel room you broke into and why you felt the need to break into it. There’s a good start.”

I leaned forward. “Shhh! I don’t need this to get around town. Right now, no one except you knows about my, uh, foray outside the law.”

He grinned and grabbed one of my hands. “I feel so honored. And, strangely, a little excited.”

I jerked away and slapped the top of his hand. “You are always excited. You’re like a junkyard dog that’s never been fixed.”

“Now I’m
really
excited.”

“Shut up and listen.” I swallowed. “Please.”

The slight catch in my voice immediately sobered him. “Go ahead, ranch girl.”

It took me most of our meal to tell everything because Nadine kept interrupting us to refill our water glasses, bring Hud more biscuits, offer me a Coke on the house.

“She knows something is going on,” I whispered to Hud after her third offer of Coke. “She’s dying to know what it is.”

“We probably should have gone somewhere else,” he said.

“No, because we’d likely have been seen and Gabe would have been told and it would have looked like we were doing something illicit. You know this town. The only place we can eat together without people talking is Liddie’s. I can tell Gabe we just ran into each other.”

“Lie to your hubby?” He picked up a chunk of tri-tip with his fork and waved it at me, unable to abstain for long from teasing me. “Shame, shame. You are really racking up the bad-girl points this week.”

“Would you let me finish?”

After my story ended, he continued eating without commenting.

“Well?” I said after a minute. “What do you think?”

“Give me a minute,” he said, contemplating a strip of yellow bell pepper before sticking it in his mouth. “I’m trying to process everything.”

While he thought, I fretted about whether telling him everything had been a mistake. I concluded that I’d had no other choice. I needed help from someone with vast and generous resources, and I needed it fast.

By the time a very irritated and curious Nadine brought our dessert—butterscotch pie for both of us—Hud had decided to bestow his opinion on me.

“Here’s what I think. I need to do a deeper investigation on her than you can. You said that your cousin Emory had an investigator on board?”

I nodded, picking at my pie. “Someone named Betsy?”

“Betsy Twain. I know her. She’s good. I’ll tell her I’m working on it too and we can compare notes. But I have resources even she doesn’t . . .”

“That’s what I was counting on.”

“It’ll take a day or so. Are you okay until then?”

“I guess I’ll have to be. I just hope if what I think about why she’s here is true, she doesn’t show up at our front door with this girl’s birth certificate. I’m not sure Gabe could handle the shock right now.”

Hud watched my face closely, his own emotions unreadable. “Is there something else going on with you and the chief?”

I concentrated on my pie. “We’re fine. He’s just stressed about the sniper. Anyone in his position would be.” My tone was defensive, and I didn’t care.

“Okay, another question. This girl. If she is Gabe’s daughter, how do you feel about that?”

I looked him directly in his dark brown eyes. In the years I’d gotten to know Hud he’d become almost like a family member. Though I was absolutely in love with Gabe, till-death-do-us-part love, I knew and Hud knew that under different circumstances, I could have fallen in love with him. That made our relationship tricky, but somehow we managed. All I knew was I trusted him and he trusted me because we had been through some hard times together.

“I knew he had a past when I married him, Hud. If this girl is his daughter, then I’ll accept her and we’ll deal with it. She’s not my worry . . .”

“The woman.”

I nodded. Had Gabe loved her? Would that love be rekindled once he realized they had a child together? All of that was too much for me to contemplate right now.

“Thank you for your help,” I said, touching my fingertips to the top of his hand. “You’re a dear friend and I love you. If you ever need me, I’ll be there. I mean that.”

“I know you do,” he said, shoving the dinner bill across the table to me. “Now buy my dinner and skedaddle home. I’ve got work to do.”

That night Gabe had another nightmare. I managed to wake him up by yelling across the room, though it took me ten minutes. When I heard Gabe’s voice cry out, I’d locked Scout in our bedroom, not wanting to deal with him and Gabe. Scout’s clawing at the door was so frantic, I knew we’d have to sand and repaint it.

Every time I tried to move close to Gabe, he cursed, swung his arms out in defense and I backed up. If he hit me again, I knew he’d never forgive himself. So I stood in the doorway and yelled and cried until something broke through the mental hell he was in and he bolted up, sweating, his complexion as pale as parchment paper.

We didn’t discuss his nightmare the next morning. Even so, it lay between us like the invisible pulse of an electric fence. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in a week. I worried about his heart. His father, Rogelio, had died of a heart attack when he was younger than Gabe. Something needed to be done about these nightmares. And soon.

“Now that the festival is over,” he asked, setting his breakfast dishes in the sink, “what are your plans this week?”

“I’m meeting Isaac this morning. We’re going out on the ranch and taking each other’s photos for the book.”

“Sounds fun. Wish I was coming.”

“Lobster dinner tonight?” I asked.

“I promise, no matter what.”

We both knew that wasn’t true, that it did matter what happened. If the sniper struck again, all bets and dates were off. But I’d been a cop’s wife long enough now to accept that. So I played along.