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“She’s called my house a dozen times and even came up the front walk.”
“You talked to her?”
“Not yet.”
“Shit!” He ran a hand through his hair. “This is worse than I thought.”
“You worried about her?”
Jason’s gaze darted around the bar. “Hell, yes, I’m worried.”
“Think she’s London?”
“No!”
“But you’re not sure.”
“Nothing’s sure, Logan.”
“Looks just like your stepmother.” The two men glared at each other for a second, sharing a secret neither wanted revealed, then Jason finished his drink.
“Just don’t talk to her and find out what you can. If she goes public, we’ll give the tape to the police.”
“But not before.”
“Nope.”
“You say Sweeny’s in on this?”
“In Montana right now. Checking out her story. He called yesterday.”
“He’s an asshole.”
“Work with him on this, okay? Keep your ear to the ground and your mouth shut. If the police get wind of the story, let me know.” Jason left a twenty on the table and swaggered outside.
“Bastard,” Logan muttered under his breath as he quickly exchanged the twenty for a five.
Manny was right. The ranch could run itself. Zach didn’t need to be here. Once again he wasn’t needed. The story of his life. He smiled grimly to himself as he walked across the dusting of new-fallen snow to the shed where Manny was repairing a tractor. Tools lined the walls, a stained workbench stretched along a far wall, and the smell of oil and dust hung in the air.
Light flickered from fluorescent tubes and Manny, cursing to himself, was half lying under the tractor’s engine. “Damned fool think,” he muttered, working on the fuel line.
“How’s it going?” Zach asked.
“Like hell.” He gave the wrench another tug, then grunted. Satisfied with his work, he crawled out from under the tractor and pulled himself upright.
A full-blooded Paiute, Manny was a tall man with smooth, burnished skin, long braids beginning to gray, and a face usually devoid of expression. He found his black cowboy hat on the seat of the tractor and plopped it onto his head. “I thought I told you to stay in the city where you belong.” Manny wiped a rag over his greasy hands.
“Couldn’t stand it.”
Manny flashed a grin that showed teeth rimmed in gold. “Don’t blame you. The only reasons to go into town are women and whiskey. You can get those here.”
He thought of Adria. Right now women were dangerous. Especially a woman claiming to be his half-sister. Whiskey was definitely safer.
Together they walked out of the shed. The sky was a gray shade of blue, the air crisp, and dark-bellied clouds collected to the west, hanging along the rigid skyline of the Cascades.
“Family business all taken care of?” Manny asked.
Somewhere in the distance a horse neighed.
