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Ellen stared down at her half-eaten food. “You don’t thinkI’mlying, do you? That I’m somehow trying to...to frame your aunt?”
“No, of course not. Just...let me do some poking around, and we’ll talk about it tonight, okay?” he said. “In the meantime, don’t worry about anything,” he quickly added.
She tried to take those words to heart, to relax and enjoy the drive back to Coyote Canyon as much as she’d enjoyed the trip to Missoula. But her stomach churned the whole way. Somehow, no matter what Lynn did, she got away with it. It was always Ellen who was the troublemaker or not measuring up and somehow deserved to be the outcast Lynn had made her.
Ellen had thought she was finally beyond Lynn’s ability to hurt her. As a matter of fact, she’d begun to pride herself on how well she’d recovered from the past. Maybe she’d been a little lonely, but she worked a lot and didn’t have enough social interaction. That was to be expected. In other ways she’d been happier than she’d ever been.
And yet...because she’d allowed herself to start caring about Hendrix, she was vulnerable again. Even though his aunt was the one who’d sabotaged the Haslem well, Lynn was going to be able to turn it around and make it look as though Ellen was somehow behind it. Not only would that ruin her fledgling relationship with Hendrix, it would poison everyone against her all over again and damage her business, ensuring that Fetterman Well Services remained on top.
Had Lynn known exactly how she’d play it from the moment she poured cement down that well?
Twenty-Three
Hendrix could tell Rocko was surprised he hadn’t come in for a burger, like everyone else who was standing in the fast-food restaurant.
“You want to talk tome?” he’d said when Hendrix stepped to the side of the three registers to catch his attention.
They didn’t know each other well, had never had any business together. Hendrix stopped in for a meal now and then, and they nodded or waved if they saw each other around town. That was it. “If you can take a minute.”
He looked at his staff as though he was hoping they’d appear too busy to allow him to step away. Or that someone would have a question for him that would keep him behind the counter. But the lunch rush was nearly over, and they had what was left of it well in hand. “Okay,” he said, sounding baffled by the request. “Where do you want to talk?”
“At an empty table will be fine.” He couldn’t say why Rocko seemed so put off. It wasn’t as if Hendrix expected to be invited into the kitchen.
“What’s going on?” Rocko asked as they both slid into the closest unoccupied booth.
“Ellen told me you saw something that has me a bit concerned.”
Rocko smoothed his white polo shirt, which had his logo in red, with matching piping. “What was that?”
That he hadn’t already guessed seemed strange. What he’d reported definitely pertained to Hendrix and the people he’d grown up with. “It’s about the truck you saw on the Haslem property on Tuesday night.”
“Oh, that.” He made a dismissive gesture. “It was late and dark and...it all happened so fast. I couldn’t really see anything.”
“Except a white truck with a Fetterman Well Services placard on the door, right?” Hendrix clarified. “Isn’t that what you told Ellen?”
“That’s what IthoughtI saw. But now that I’ve had more time to go over those memories... I don’t know. I don’t want to accuse anyone, because I can’t be certain. Like I said before, it happened too fast.”
Hendrix studied him. “Did you tellherthat?”
“Of course.”
“You told Ellen you didn’t really see anything.”
“I told her it all happened so fast I can’t be sure.”
“So...whatareyou certain of? What did you see?”
“A truck came flying off the property and nearly hit me. That’s all.”
“While you were riding past on your motorcycle...”
“Yes.”
“How’d you manage to avoid an accident?”
“I slammed on my brakes and swerved.”
On a motorcycle? How did he avoid skidding and laying the bike down on the concrete? “But you didn’t wipe out.”
