Crime Scene at Cardwell Ranch - B.J. Daniels [41]
"You were married," she pointed out. "And Jordan was just a kid."
"Your mother and I were separated. I only lived at the ranch so you kids wouldn't know. Jordan was eighteen. I wouldn't say he was a kid."
"And you were forty."
He must have heard the accusation in her tone.
"And you're wondering what she could have seen in a forty-year-old man?" He laughed. "Sometimes you are too naive, sweetheart." He patted her head as he'd done as a child. "Dana," he said patiently, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "We can't change the past even if we'd like to." He got up from his chair, glancing at his watch. "I'm going to have a beer. I'm sure you won't join me but can I get you a cola?"
She stared at his back as he headed into the kitchen and after a moment she followed him. Sometimes he amazed her. Talk about naive.
"I don't think the past is going to stay buried, Dad, now that Ginger has turned up murdered and at the family ranch well. You and Jordan are suspects."
He glanced around the fridge door at her, a beer can in one hand, a cola in the other. He raised the cola can. She shook her head.
"If I were you I'd come up with a better story than you lost the .38," she continued, angry at him for thinking this would just pass. But that had been his attitude for as long as she'd known him. Just ignore the problem and it will fix itself—one way or another. That was her father.
Only this time, the problem wasn't going to go away, she feared. "Hud knows you had the gun. You used to let the two of us shoot it, remember?"
Her father nodded as he popped the top on his beer and took a drink. "Ahh-hh," he said, then smiled. "Of course I remember. I remember everything about those days, baby girl. Truthfully, honey? I don't know what happened to the gun. Or how long it's been gone. One day it just wasn't in the cabinet."
She was thankful that Hud didn't know about Ginger and Jordan. She'd never told Hud about the kiss in the alley she'd witnessed. And she doubted Jordan would be forthcoming about it.
She watched her father take a long drink and lick the foam from his lips. His gaze settled on her and a strange look came into his eyes. It was gentle and sad and almost regretful. "Sometimes you look so much like your mother."
* * *
HUD CALLED the judge's number, a little surprised to learn that Kitty Randolph still lived in the same house she had shared with her husband. The same house where he'd been murdered five years before.
The maid answered. Mrs. Randolph had gone out to run a few errands and wasn't expected back until after lunch.
Lunch. Hud felt his stomach growl as he hung up. He hadn't eaten all day, but he knew a good place to get a blue-plate special—and information at the same time.
Leroy Perkins had been a cook at the Roadside Café back when Ginger had been a waitress there. Now he owned the place, but hung out there most days keeping an eye on his investment.
Leroy was tall and thin and as stooped as a dogwood twig. His hair, what was left of it, was gray and buzz-cut short. He was drinking coffee at the end stool and apparently visiting with whoever stopped by and was willing to talk to him.
Hud slid onto the stool next to him.
"Get you a menu?" a young, blond, ponytailed waitress asked him. She looked all of eighteen.
"I'll take the lunch special and a cola, thanks," Hud said.
She was back in a jiffy with a cola and a glass of ice along with the pot of coffee. She refilled Leroy's cup then went back into the kitchen to flirt with the young cook.
Leroy was shaking his head as he watched the cook. "Hard to find anyone who knows anything about the grill. There's a knack to cooking on a grill."
Hud was sure there was. "Leroy, I was wondering if you remember a waitress who used to work here back about twenty years ago."
"Twenty years? You must be kidding. I can barely remember what I had for breakfast."
"Her name was Ginger Adams."
Leroy let out a laugh. "Ginger? Well, hell yes. That cute little redhead? Who could forget her?" He frowned. "Why would you be asking about her? It's been…how