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Dreyfus sighed. “It’s almost five. Too late to tackle Elle Diamond tonight. You want to try to interview her tomorrow?” She gazed at Jason hopefully with her one good eye.
“Sure. Okay.” After today’s performance he was not leaving Dreyfus on her own to sort this thing out. His heart had nearly stopped when he’d seen that pistol turn her way. Not on his watch. He’d rather be shot himself.
“We could grab some dinner and keep talking over the case?”
Jason sat up straight. “Oh, hell,” he exclaimed. “I’ve already got a dinner date—and I’m going to be late.”
* * * * *
“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to make it.” Ruby pushed wide the back door to the kitchen, and Jason waded through the flock of poodles.
“Sorry I’m late. I needed to shower.” He felt a little off-balance. He couldn’t help wanting to make a good impression with Sam’s mom. Not only was he late, he should have picked up flowers or a bottle of wine, but Dreyfus had been kind enough to give him a ride, and he hadn’t wanted to ask her to make an extra stop.
“Don’t you worry about it. You’re here now.”
“It smells wonderful in here.”
It did. The smell of roasting meat and simmering vegetables filled the warm, cheerfully lit room.
One of the poodles suddenly screeched, and Jason jumped, afraid he had stepped on it.
“Adele! You stop biting Remy. You bad girl. They get overexcited,” Ruby informed Jason. “What would you like to drink?”
“Anything.” Wait. He didn’t want to sound like a raving alcoholic. “Beer?”
“Sure. Or I’ve got Canadian Club, if you like it. It’s what Sam drinks. Same as his Uncle Jim.”
“That’s fine too.” In fact, the idea of Canadian Club was kind of comforting—or maybe that was just the thought of Sam. Jason asked, “Do you have a lot of family in Wyoming?”
“Not a lot. Jim’s living in Florida now. Our folks are gone. I’ve got a bunch of cousins, nieces, and nephews, but we’ve never been that close.”
“Right.” He remembered that she’d been an unwed mother at sixteen. What had that been like nearly fifty years ago in rural Wyoming? Probably not a whole lot of fun.
“I hope you’re hungry. We’re having leg of lamb for dinner. That used to be one of Sam’s favorites when he was a boy.”
“I’m starving,” Jason said, which was true. He hadn’t had much for breakfast, and there had been no time for lunch.
One of the poodles nipped his ankle, and he jumped again. “Ow!”
Ruby spun away from the counter. “Esme, what have I told you about that?” She handed Jason his drink and shoveled up the dogs in one scoop. They were already howling protest before she closed the laundry room door on them.
“Usually dogs like me.” He was chagrined her dogs regarded him with such suspicion.
“Don’t take it personal. Those hooligans don’t like anyone. I guess they’re spoiled, but then they’re the only grandkids I’m going to get, I guess.”
Jason sipped his drink and said nothing. He wasn’t about to touch that one.
“Mashed potatoes and gravy okay?”
“Sounds great,” Jason answered honestly. He squatted down to inspect the framed photos on the corner shelf of the island. He smiled faintly at the towheaded second-grader Sam. “What did Sam want to grow up to be when he was this age?”
Ruby threw the photo an indulgent look. “Not a policeman. He wanted to be a very rich rancher.”
Jason laughed.
“It’s the truth. Not just a rich rancher. A very rich rancher.” Ruby snorted at that long-ago memory.
“He doesn’t seem like the ranching type.”
