Lifeline Echoes (21 page)

The sheriff stooped to examine the puncture.
"Looks like the same marks as the ones on Walt's tires." He poked
at the jagged edges. Indicating the knife, he added, "I'll send
this to the state folks. There're some numbers etched by the hilt
they might be able to use to trace the owner. Maybe we hit it lucky
when this guy left the knife behind."

Foreboding slid into Ryan's gut. He took a
closer look at the knife and cursed under his breath. "Nope, not so
much. That would be my army serial number." He rattled off the
number from memory.

Sandy's startled gaze shot over to Ryan and
she studied him for a moment, her features unreadable. Though he
wondered what was going through her mind now, Ryan shifted his eyes
back to DC.

The sheriff double-checked the numbers on
the knife and uttered a string of graphic curses. Then red stained
his face. "Sorry, Sandy."

"I left it in the tack room the other night
when I was doing some leather work." Picturing Bull's face, Ryan
balled his right hand into a fist, grinding it against the palm of
his left. "Son of a–Bull probably took it when he ruined our
feed."

DC nodded at Ryan's fist. "Calm down, Ryan.
We'll sort this all out. But the fact is, we got no actual suspect
here. Not yet."

Ryan exploded. "What the— DC, you know this
was all Bull. What else do you need?"

"Well, for starters, conclusive evidence.
Maybe we'll find fingerprints on the knife. But officially, Ry, I
can only consider him a person of interest based on the history
between your families, the incident here last Friday, and what
happened last night. And since the knife turns out to be yours,
that puts you and yours on the short list as much as Bull, maybe a
tad higher." DC's voice sounded calm but his brown eyes were
narrowed, his jaw tense.

Ryan snorted. "You think I took a leak in
our grain then came here to use my knife on Sandy's truck?"

Before DC could answer, Sandy spoke up.
"Ryan spent the night here, DC. I doubt he felt the need to relieve
himself on my truck and slash the tire as he was leaving."

Ryan closed his eyes and silently
groaned.

DC turned his focus to Sandy, assessing her
silently for a moment before he answered. "Sandy, you just admitted
Ry was here and it's his knife we found. And even if you want to
file a complaint about Bull's visit here Sunday night, suspicion's
gonna bounce off him and back onto Ryan because of the crap between
the two of them." He shrugged. "I don't like it either, but that's
how a lawyer'll spin it. So until we've got something more, we've
got nothing."

Sandy jerked upright at DC's words. "How did
you know about Sunday?" She whipped her head back around to look at
Ryan, temper flaring in her narrowed gaze. Her eyes never left him
as she spoke. "He never touched me. You can't arrest someone
because I thought he wanted to—touch me. I didn't want him to know
I was afraid of him. I didn't want to give him any power, so I
didn't report it." She shivered in the eighty-degree heat and from
several feet away, Ryan felt it.

He understood her anger. By going to DC,
Ryan had stolen Sandy's sense of control over her encounter with
Bull. Understood it and didn't care. Just as her tenuous control of
her horse was often an illusion, so was her control over any
situation with Bull.

"Can I change my tire now, DC?" She spoke
more calmly, the fight apparently having gone out of her. But Ryan
could still see it in her rigid stance, the impatient way her
fingers twitched against her leg. And her eyes were still shooting
sparks in his direction. She looked like she wanted to do more than
call him a jerk this time.

"Ah . . . Sandy, I'm going to have to
impound your vehicle as evidence. I'll try and get it back as quick
as possible but the state police need to process the . . . ah. . ."
DC cleared his throat, not quite meeting Sandy's eyes. "The DNA
evidence."

Sandy's eyes narrowed. "How am I supposed to
get my errands done now?" She kicked at the gravel, sending a few
stones flying through the air to land about ten feet away.

Ryan made a strangled sound and swiftly
looked away, pulling his hand down his face, trying to wipe away
the smile he couldn't contain. He wasn't nearly swift enough.

"What's wrong with you?" Sandy fixed him
with a glare. "You think it's funny? I've got a ton of errands to
run and no way to get them done."

"No," he said a little too quickly.

Sandy straightened, settling her hands on
her hips. "Then why are you laughing like a donkey?"

DC's eyes slid between Sandy and Ryan.
"Plead the fifth. Seriously."

"DC, go Mirandize yourself." Sandy's blue
eyes leveled on Ryan. "I'm waiting."

He could think of no way to make it sound
good. "When you kicked the gravel, you reminded me of the way your
horse kicks when he gets ticked off. Only his kicks are generally
followed by snapping teeth."

DC sighed and took a step out of range. He
hoped.

Angling her head, Sandy's glare raked over
Ryan's body. Then a slow smile began to light her face, and her
eyes slid to the Corvette.

Ryan's followed the
direction of her look. "Oh,
heck
no! You're not driving this baby while you're in
this mood."

"Fine. I get it. You don't want to share
your toys."

"You can borrow Dad's truck. He doesn't
drive anymore."

"Thank you." She smiled sweetly and he knew
he was in trouble. "But since Justin's truck isn't here, are you
going to drive me out there to get it so I can come all the way
back to town to run my errands?"

DC cleared his throat and handed them each a
sheet of paper. "Receipts for your property. So are you two okay?
Getting things worked out? Anyone gonna die in the next few
minutes?" He held up a hand when Sandy drew a deep breath. "Just
checking."

"Yeah," Ryan said slowly. "I guess I'll be
driving Sandy on some . . . errands."

DC snickered and clapped Ryan on the
shoulder, looking him in the eye. "Friend, you should have pleaded
the fifth about the horse." To them both, he said, "Do the best you
can to keep this from interrupting your life. It could be just
something random. I can't think of a reason in the world why old
Walt got dragged into it if it's not."

Ryan leveled a stare at DC. "He sold me a
tire last week."

The sheriff gave him a hard, unreadable
stare in return. Finally, he nodded and looked away, and Ryan knew
he'd at least given DC something to consider. Ryan held out his
hand to Sandy. After a hesitation so brief he might have imagined
it, she slipped her hand into his, and they walked to his car.

"Where to?" he asked after Sandy secured her
seatbelt.

She slid her sunglasses back on her face and
rattled off her list of errands with a sigh. "Thanks for the lift,"
she muttered, apparently still miffed.

Ryan slid an appreciative glance over her
body. "I can think of a lot worse things I could be doing right
now." Like dealing with her cantankerous horse.

"Still, I know you're busy and I really do
appreciate the help," she said a little stiffly.

Her formal tone was already grating on his
last nerve. Ryan started the car and peeled out of the parking
lot.

****

"I just sent out a substantial order to the
Cross MC last week." Leo Pickens scratched his head. "I can fill a
partial for you, let you have about a quarter of this here order,
but if I wipe myself out, I'm not going to be able to take care of
other customers. I'm liable to lose business."

Sandy stared at Leo, wondering about the
chill in his voice when he spoke. Ryan's brow was furrowed, his
mouth grim, matching the storm brewing in his narrowed eyes. Arms
appeared to be benignly at his sides, but his right hand was
alternately clenching and relaxing. Didn't the owner of the little
store realize he was about to lose the McGees' business? Did he
care?

"How fast can you get an extra order from
the supplier?" Ryan was either oblivious or ignoring the cold
attitude. Given the set to his jaw, Sandy's money was on ignoring
it.

Pickens shrugged. "I don't usually special
order as a rule, so I don't know how fast they can deliver." He
looked into his storeroom, avoiding Ryan's eyes. "I'm expecting a
delivery end of next week."

Ryan's eyes narrowed. "Most of your regular
customers must already have made their monthly purchases."

"Look, McGee, I don't want any trouble
here." Pickens shifted his stance backward and cast a look in
Sandy's direction. "What about Domingo's blend? I have plenty of
that in stock. Maybe you'll want to upgrade."

Ryan stared at the older man, one eyebrow
raised. "Change their diet without a transition period? Sounds like
I'd be asking for a stable full of sick horses."

Sandy couldn’t stand it anymore. For
whatever reason, both Leo and Walt had apparently decided Ryan was
trouble walking, and they weren't going to make things easier for
him. Where was that famous small town, close-knit fellowship?

"Ryan, Colt Ford sometimes uses a feed and
tack in Oslow. Why don't we take a run up there?"

Leo stood up straight. "Well, you know, I
don't want to put you out, either." He rubbed his jaw. "I can put
up about half this order and I'll call over to Oslow myself, see if
Ned can spare the rest, have it to you by tomorrow or day
next."

Ryan glanced at Sandy, then back to Pickens.
He nodded, reaching into his back pocket and sliding out his
wallet.

Pickens eyed the gold credit card in Ryan's
hand. "So you won't be needing store credit?"

Ryan's eyes glinted and he smirked, sliding
the card across the counter. "Nope. But thanks for the offer."

****

"I usually take the feed out myself when I
pick up Domingo's blend to save Sean the delivery fees," said Sandy
as they crossed the parking lot.

She was almost running to keep up and Ryan
slowed his steps to accommodate her shorter legs, though all he
really wanted to do was put immediate distance between him and Leo
Pickens. He'd known it wouldn’t be easy, coming home. He'd known
his welcome wouldn’t be warm. Apparently, gossip and propaganda
were still running Orson's Folly. He wondered if things had been
like this for Sean and his dad since he'd left, and felt a
corresponding twinge in his heart at the thought.

"Well, since it won't fit in my car, today
it's all going to be delivered instead." His tone was more curt
than he'd intended and he tempered it with a smile as he opened the
passenger door for her.

"Ry. . ." She rested one hand on the roof of
the 'Vette. She obviously had something to say but she remained
silent, just looked at him with those incredible blue eyes.

The breeze toyed with her hair. Ryan found
himself mesmerized by one strand that wouldn’t stop teasing her
face. The third time it tickled her nose, his hand got there before
hers and he tucked it behind her ear.

The tip of her tongue touched her upper lip.
"Do you really think all this—the stuff here, the things that
happened at the bar—is about your history with Bull?"

If anything, he was less surprised that
she'd asked than about how long it had taken her to pose the
question. Ryan tapped his fingers a couple of times as he looked
across the parking lot to the veterinarian's office. Recalling his
chilly reception there and Sean's explanation for it, he nodded
slowly.

"Yeah," he murmured slowly. "I'm afraid it
might."

She stared at him for a long moment. He
should tell her about the grudge now; give her a chance to make her
own decision about whether she wanted to stick it out with him. He
searched for the words, gripping the top of the car door until he
couldn’t feel his fingertips. No words formed.

"One more stop?" Sandy pointed to the drug
store, her expression carefully benign. The moment was lost.

With a shrug of agreement, Ryan put the car
in gear and changed parking lots. When he turned off the car and
opened his door, she shot him a pleading look. "Let me go in alone.
I'll only take a minute."

"I was thinking of picking up some, um,
protection. In case, ah. . ." Heat rose at the back of his neck.
Now, why was trying to do the responsible thing making him feel
like he was sixteen again?

Sandy regarded him with an arched eyebrow.
"Ryan, this drug store has the biggest gossip chain outside of
Sundays in front of Brother Bobby's church. I'm aware the town
knows we're seeing each other by now, but do you really want to go
in and pick up condoms while I'm refilling my monthly birth
control? Especially since we're not—we haven’t—you know." Stepping
back, she folded her arms across her chest, which had the effect of
directing Ryan's attention there.

Ryan's mouth went dry. His mind couldn't
form words to answer her, though it did occur to him to wonder why
she was on birth control.

Sandy leaned over and forced him to meet her
eyes. She chuckled. "I can literally see your mind working. At the
risk of over-sharing here, the birth control is for medical
purposes. I'm not—and haven’t been—seeing anyone in a way that
requires the pill for actual birth control."

Ryan slowly nodded his head. "Okay." Still
unable to find his voice for a more profound statement, he did the
next best thing. He winked, tipped his hat and leaned his long
frame against the fender of his car to wait for her. Just as she
reached the door to the drug store, she tossed a frustrated look
over her shoulder at him. His body reacted instantly.

So did his heart.

****

He didn’t have to stand out there against
his car looking all sexy and self-satisfied, Sandy fumed, reaching
for one of the double doors of the old drug store. She threw one
last glance over her shoulder as she yanked on the handle. Alice
MacKay fell through the door into Sandy's arms, her shopping bag
flying through the air and spilling the contents on the ground
between them.