Nothing but Trouble_ A Kevin Kerney Novel - Michael Mcgarrity [45]
“Well, Mendoza is my only lead,” Flavio said. “I’ll do a little more digging into his personal life before I approach him. Maybe something interesting will pop up.”
“Good idea,” Kerney replied. He disconnected, fished out the business card Supervisory Special Agent Fidel had given him, and dialed his direct line.
Over by the catering vehicle Julia and Johnny had hooked up with Ethan Stone, and the trio were walking in the direction of the barn. When the agent answered, Kerney gave him the gist of his conversation with Sapian, and suggested that Fidel should be the one to get Flavio to back off on his investigation. Gruffly, Fidel agreed, told Kerney to stay in touch, and disconnected.
Somewhat piqued by Fidel’s attitude, so typical of federal officers who looked down their noses at local cops, Kerney put the phone away just as Malcolm Usher called him over. He asked a few questions about how cops would serve a court order to the rancher and, armed with the information Kerney provided, began talking to the cinematographer about the shots he wanted to use.
Johnny, Julia, and Ethan Stone had returned from the barn and were clustered around the construction supervisor, a man named Barry Hingle, who had the good looks and hard body of an actor.
Kerney joined them and listened as Stone told the man he wanted all the buildings to look weather beaten and dingy.
“Hardscrabble and impoverished best describes it,” Stone said. “This must appear to be the ranch of a man who is barely hanging on.”
“Daddy will absolutely hate that,” Julia said with a laugh.
“Don’t worry, my dear,” Stone said. “It’s all magic, smoke and mirrors. Barry and his crew will put every thing back as it should be once we finish.”
“You’d better,” Julia said teasingly.
Stone and Hingle moved away to inspect the buildings.
“Where’s the old man?” Johnny asked Julia, his gaze locked on his parents’ house.
“Dad is probably inside,” Julia replied. “He doesn’t get around as much as he used to.”
Johnny squared his shoulders. “I’d better go see him.” He marched off to the house and paused at the screen door to the porch for a long moment before entering.
“That should be interesting,” Julia said as she rested her hand on Kerney’s arm. “It always is when those two get together.”
Kerney wondered why Julia seemed so pleased about the tension that existed between her father and brother. He studied her expression, looking for an answer. All he saw was the face of a self-indulgent, attractive middle-aged woman. Although her eyes danced and her lips smiled, it was surface charm. The thought occurred to him that she was very much like her brother: both were vain, lacked empathy, and craved excitement. He took her hand off his arm.
Julia reacted with a teasing smile. “Oh, was I being too familiar?”
“As a matter of fact you were,” Kerney said.
“Come on, Kerney. We’re old friends. Don’t be so uptight.”
“Old friends, and nothing more,” Kerney replied.
Julia tossed her hair and gazed up at him. “Maybe we should change that.”
“Not likely.”
“Are you a happily married man, Kerney?”
“Indeed I am.”
Julia giggled. “I’ve heard that line before.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Let me know when you change your mind.”
He watched her walk away, hips swaying in tight jeans, her body toned and trimmed. Or was it that she’d been under a plastic surgeon’s knife, maybe more than once?
Johnny Jordan stood in the front room of his parents’ house, trying to force down the uneasiness that always overcame him when he was about to see his father. Except for the ticking of the ornate mantel clock above the fireplace, not a sound could be heard. On the bookcase that held his father’s prize collection of books by novelists, biographers, and historians of the Old West stood the Cattleman of the Year Award his parents had jointly won some years back.
Johnny had shown up late to the award ceremony, drunk and in the company of a blond, buxom woman he’d picked up after finishing in the money at a California rodeo. He couldn’t remember the blonde’s name or even what she looked