Seven Sisters - Earlene Fowler [94]
Surprised, I was speechless for a moment. First, because of his audacity. Second, because I’d completely forgotten that today was the third Tuesday of the month.
He smirked. “What’s wrong, did you forget about the class? Come by my office after your meeting, please, and tell me what you find out. Note that I did say please.” He tipped his Stetson hat.
I opened my mouth to snap back that I wasn’t about to involve those ladies in a murder investigation, then closed it again. He knew I’d never be able to resist asking them about Rose Brown now, and I knew he’d eventually track me down anyway, so I said, “Okay.”
He stepped back a foot, his hand gripping his chest dramatically, as if shot in the heart. “What? Benni Harper is being cooperative! Lord have mercy on us all, the end of the world is nigh upon us. A miracle has occurred.”
“Oh, go milk a bull,” I said childishly. I went back to my office to get the museum checkbook. A quilt made by the ladies had sold recently in our small gift shop, and I needed to pay them. When I returned to my truck, the detective was gone.
After a trip to the post office, I stopped by Blind Harry’s. Elvia wasn’t there, so I left her a note. Downstairs in the coffeehouse, while I was waiting for my mocha, I spotted Sam at a table. I took my cup and went over to him.
“Hey, bud,” I said, sitting down across from him. “How’s it going?”
He wrapped his hands around his thick white mug. “Okay, I guess.”
“Are you working today?”
He shook his head no. “I just dropped by to pick up my paycheck. I’m going over to see Bliss, but I needed to chill out for a while first.”
His voice was so low, the soft buzz of late-morning customers swallowed his last few words.
“How is she doing today? Is she up for visitors?”
He drew in a deep breath, as if getting ready to lift a heavy load. “She’s better. She’s at her sister’s house and doesn’t really feel like seeing anyone. I’ll tell her you said hi.” He looked over at me, his dark brown eyes glossy with pain.
I reached over and put my hand on top of his. “How are you?”
He shrugged and didn’t answer, already well trained in the stoic macho tradition of his Latino heritage. But a small portion of the vulnerable young boy he still was leaked out. “I can’t sleep that good,” he whispered.
I nodded and didn’t answer.
Using both hands, he brought his mug up to his lips. After a sip, he said, “Tell Dove and Ben I’ll be back out to the ranch tonight. I know I’m behind on my chores. Tell them I’ll catch up this week.”
“They understand, Sam. You take care now.”
He nodded again, and I left him staring into his black coffee.
To relieve the sadness that had crept around my heart, I put Patty Loveless on my portable cassette player as I headed out to the ranch. I was singing along, agreeing with her wearily cynical view of male/female relationships, when I pulled into the long driveway of the ranch.
I slammed my foot on the brakes when I saw the fire truck, the paramedic van, a Highway Patrol car, and a San Celina PD car.
“Oh, no,” I said out loud, my heart thumping in my chest, thinking Dove, Daddy, Isaac?
13
I JUMPED OUT of the truck and ran across the lawn to the house. It was empty. On the kitchen counter were casserole dishes covered with tinfoil and a half dozen pies and cakes. Voices came from behind the house, so I dashed out the back door and headed toward the barn. Outside the barn’s double doors, a paramedic and a Highway Patrol officer stood shooting the breeze.
“My gramma?” I said, breathing hard.
“You mean Dove?” the paramedic asked.
I nodded.
“In there.” He pointed to the barn. “But be careful, she’s...”
I pushed past them and ran through the barn doors, expecting to see Dove stretched out on a gurney, hooked up to IVs, fighting for her life.
She was fighting all right,