The Barefoot Summer

“The letters?”

“I’d like copies of them for the evidence files just so we have something tangible with all those names he’s used. We’ll run our own investigation, but if we had a copy of the old report, it would be good,” he answered.

“I’ll get that done this week.”

She had to clasp her hands in her lap to keep from clapping and doing a wiggle dance right there in the truck. To keep from acting like she felt, she turned on the radio and flipped through several stations with preaching before she found one that played only country music.

She could tell by the way he had fidgeted that he was nervous that morning, not wanting to tell her something and yet needing to do so. The closer they got to Wichita Falls, the more he relaxed. Was she losing her famous ability to read people, or had the music calmed him down?

If she’d been in her office trying to broker a deal to buy a smaller oil company that was failing, right then would have been the moment when she made her big move. The buyer would have arrived all tense, and with a little small talk, he would relax and then she would ease into the business aspect of the deal.

Suddenly, she realized that she didn’t miss the business. It was her turn to tense. Maybe Hattie was right and she was ready for a big change. Her hands went clammy and her chest felt like it had stones in it.

“You okay?” Waylon asked.

“Yes, why do you ask?” She’d admitted that she liked working on the ranch. She’d owned up to the fact that she loved Gracie. Jamie and Amanda could pick up and move, but she shouldn’t entertain such a foolish notion.

“You went all stiff and the air in the truck got heavy,” he answered. “So what were you picturing in your mind that made it hard for you to breathe?”

“I was thinking about work, and it hit me that I didn’t miss it. I’m a workaholic like my mother. I love my job. I hate change. I should miss being there at the office, right?”

“You are preaching to the choir. At least up to six months ago, when I sat down on a bar stool with a beer in front of me and my precinct friends around me and suddenly I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be on the ranch full-time. I love my job, too, and I sure hate change, so I know where you are coming from.”

“So what is your goal?” she asked.

“To finish this case, get my paperwork all signed and sealed, freeze my retirement, and come home to the Double Back Ranch for good. The closer the time gets, the more I want that now that I’ve made up my mind,” he said.

“What about your partner? Is he quitting the force, too?” she asked.

“No, he’s still got ten more years before he gets to decide whether to stay or go. And besides, I know he secretly likes the woman who’s his new partner. She’s smart and has all the newest ways of doing things that get the job done,” he said. “And she’s a helluva lot better looking than his last partner.”

“That would depend on who was doing the judging,” she said.

“So you think I’m a little bit good-looking?” He smiled.

“Waylon Kramer, that’s the low end of the scale. You measure way on up past that.” She flirted.

“Well, now that chases away even more dark clouds.” He grinned.

“Speaking of dark clouds, look over there.” She pointed toward the southwest. “Think that might be bringing in some rain?”

“I hope so. The hay is all in, and the next crop could sure use some watering. Maybe we’ll get caught in it and have to spend the night up here in Wichita Falls,” he said.

“And now we have Luke Bryan with one of his top tunes from last year, ‘Strip It Down,’” the radio DJ said.

“Have you seen this video?” Kate asked.

“Yes, I have. The city boy knows he’s lost it with the country girl, and the country boy can’t forget the city girl,” Waylon said. “Which one am I? And which one are you?”

“At heart, you are a country boy, but you’ve been in the city too long. At heart, I’m a city girl, but I’m learning to love the country life. Where does that take us?”

“To a happy medium, I hope,” he answered. “What do you get from the video?”

She ran what she could remember from the video through her mind. “I see a young farmer who needs to take his woman to a nice place and let her get all dressed up. And then I see a corporate bigwig who used to be a cowboy and fell for a woman in cowboy boots. Now they’re both miserable and wanting another shot at love. Which one are you?” Kate asked.

“Both. I’ve worn the suit and the cowboy boots. Which one would impress you the most?” he asked.

“Neither,” she answered.

“Oh, come on,” he said, grinning. “Surely you know if you like a cowboy or a detective better.”

“Right now I’d like for all this crap to be cleared up, and I don’t care if a cowboy, a detective, or a big old tomcat does the job,” she said.

The grin faded. “A tomcat?”

“Like in those cozy mystery books,” she said.

“The cat really solves the case?”

“Sometimes. Maybe you’d better get a cat.”

He shook his head. “Okay then. With all the information you gave us, we do have some good leads, but you were in that cabin with Conrad after Iris died, and so were Amanda and Jamie. A good prosecutor would argue that one or all of you found those letters months ago and, individually or collectively, you all murdered him. Y’all are still at the top of the suspect list.” He grimaced. “Maybe even more than before. That’s what I wanted to tell you and didn’t want to tell you at the same time.”

“Well, shit!” she said. So that’s the reason he’d been so antsy that morning when he picked her up. Nothing was decided and everything was even worse than before. In all the scenarios she’d thought about, that one never entered her mind.

“Exactly.” He frowned. “I can turn this truck around and take you home if you want.”

“Hell, no. I want that big hamburger you promised me,” she said.

“Okay, then, but I’ll understand if you turn me down on the next news.”

“You mean that’s not all of the bad news?”

“This has nothing to do with the case, but knowing that the bunch of you aren’t in the clear by any means might mean that none of you want to cooperate. You’ve heard about the festival?”

She nodded. What in the hell could a fishing festival have to do with the case or anything else for that matter?

“Well, several years ago my mother bought an old stagecoach at an auction and the parade committee, plus the Bootleg citizen of the year, rides in it during the parade. I get it out of the barn where we store it and shine it all up for that day,” he said.

“And you’re going to chase down Conrad’s real killer in an antique stagecoach?” she asked.

He laughed. Dammit! Why did he have to be so sexy when he brought out the charm?

“No, but while all the spiders are chased out of it and it’s still clean, Victor and Hattie want to have a picnic at the ranch so the girls can have a ride in it,” he said.

“As in more than just Gracie? As in Lisa?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am.”