Читать книгу Second Chance Cowboy - B.J. Daniels, B.J. Daniels - Страница 9

Bo Evans disliked Hank Monroe even before he’d met the man. He would have disliked any man his mother dated. Not that he felt any loyalty to his father. Floyd Evans was a spineless bastard who’d abandoned them the moment there was trouble. Hell, Floyd Evans had abandoned them long before that.

“What did I tell you?”

He looked up to find his mother standing in front of him. She had the remote in her hand. He swore as she muted his show. “Tell me about what?”

“Getting a job.”

He shook his head. It had just been a threat. At least he hoped that’s all it had been. “If I got a job, I’d have to be in town all day. Maybe even have to work nights. You’d be here by yourself. You don’t want that. You need me around.”

His mother laughed and he realized this was a new reaction. “Nice try. I want you to find a job. And then I want you to find a place to live.”

He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. He suspected he hadn’t. This was Hank Monroe’s doing, the bastard. He’d put this into her head.

“This is about Hank, isn’t it? You think he’s going to always be around?” Bo scoffed at that. “Once he gets what he’s after, he’ll be gone. The guy’s playing you. He’s going to break your heart.”

“Well, I’ve been played before and certainly had my heart broken by those closest to me, haven’t I?” she said, shutting off the television. “You have until the end of the week.”

“And then what?” he demanded. “You’re not going to put me out on the street. Not your favorite son.”

To his surprise, she said nothing. Instead she walked over to the garbage can and dropped the remote into it.

Bo told himself she was bluffing, that she was just upset about Charlotte. Once Charlotte was back here and the baby was born, things would get back to normal. Well, as normal as life here had ever been.

“What’s the point of throwing away the remote?” he called after her as she headed for her bedroom down the hall.

“Don’t worry, you won’t need it,” she said, stopping to look back at him. “You’ll be at work. Anyway, I’ve had the cable service canceled. Out here we might be able to get one of the local stations clear enough for you to watch. So you won’t need the remote, because what would be the point of changing the station?” Without another word, she turned and continued to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Bo swore and kicked the coffee table over. The one thing he didn’t want was anything to change. He was happy with his life. He slept till noon most days, hung out either watching television or listening to music until it was time to go out with his friends.

He’d had jobs before, but his mother had always been all right when he’d quit them and offered to help her. The only thing that had changed that he could see was Hank. Who was this guy anyway?

The good news was that Hank wouldn’t be around long, Bo told himself. Not once he got to know Arlene. But Bo feared he couldn’t wait that long. He was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

Either he had to find Charlotte and get her butt back here, or he was going to have to sabotage this little romance between his mother and Hank Monroe.

He called his friend Cody, since his car was in the shop and his mother had refused to let him drive hers. “Pick me up tonight. My mom has a date and there’s something we need to do. Bring a crowbar. And if you have a ski mask, bring that, too.”

ARLENE WAS GETTING ready for her date with Hank when the phone rang. She hurriedly reached for it, praying it was Charlotte.

The voice on the other end of the line was authoritative, and she knew from experience whoever was calling was going to give her bad news.

“Is it Charlotte?” she cried, just wanting to get the worst over with.

“I beg your pardon? This is Dr. Ray Hamilton calling from the state hospital in regard to your daughter Violet.”

Violet? Had she been released? Was she on her way here? Arlene glanced toward the dark windows and thought Bo was right. She didn’t want to be here alone.

“Is she…?” Arlene couldn’t form the words.

“We are required by law to let you know that Violet will be leaving our facility in a few weeks.”

“Leaving for where?”

“She is being released on her own since she is an adult, Mrs. Evans. I’m sure you were told about your daughter’s medical breakthrough.”

“No. You’re wrong. You don’t know Violet. If you let her out—”

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I’m afraid the evaluation of her mental health isn’t up to you. We are just required to let you know. Good day, Mrs. Evans.”

“No,” Arlene said into the phone even though she knew the doctor had hung up.

Violet was getting out.

She stood in her bedroom too stunned to move. Hadn’t she known that her life had been going too well? The business? And Hank?

Hank. She felt her heart sink. For just a few hours she’d let herself believe she could be happy.

Not that she’d ever thought she deserved it.

She reached for the phone and dialed Hank’s number, telling herself it was for the best. Better to end it before it was started. Better to end it before he did.

She glanced toward the chair where her mother had sat for years.

You’re right, Mother. It’s all my fault. You told me I would end up alone. You were right. That must make you very happy.

She made a swipe at her tears. Hank’s line was busy. She’d have to try again in a few minutes.

Facing the mirror, she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. She would face this alone. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been here before.

“WHO IS THIS GUY anyway?” Cody asked as he and Bo drove into Hank Monroe’s ranch.

“We’re about to find out.” Bo had waited until he’d seen Hank drive out before he’d instructed Cody to drive down the hill to the huge ranch house. No one should live in such a large house. Especially some dude living by himself, Bo thought angrily.

“You sure he doesn’t have someone working for him?” Cody asked, sounding nervous.

“I asked around,” Bo said. “Hank has a bunch of land, but the only animals on the place are a couple of horses. He has Claudia Nicholson come out twice a week and clean. There’s no security system.”

Cody pulled up in front of the house, cut the engine and sat for a moment, staring at the house. “Is the guy crazy?”

“Apparently so, since he’s dating my mother,” Bo quipped. “Come on.” He opened his door and climbed out.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Cody asked.

“Whatever we can find.” Something incriminating. So he could tell his mother what he suspected she already suspected: Hank Monroe was too good to be true. Bo was counting on it as he picked up a rock to bust a window.

“This guy is a fool,” Cody said as he tried the front door and it swung open. “The door wasn’t even locked.” His friend made a face as Bo dropped the rock. “I don’t like this. Seems a little too easy, you know?”

Bo knew. “The guy is clueless. Don’t worry about it.” He shoved past Cody and entered the cool, dim, massive living room. Hank Monroe apparently had money. But how had he made it?

“Where do we start?” Cody asked as they took in the place. “Nice. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he married your mother.”

“He’s not going to marry her,” Bo snapped. “No one marries someone like her unless he has to.” He’d heard how she’d come to marry Floyd Evans; he’d overheard his grandmother Evans talking about it. Floyd Evans wouldn’t have married her except that she’d been pregnant with Violet.

“Still, what does it hurt having a guy like this dating your mother?”

Bo ignored the question. He didn’t like talking about his mother’s love life. He couldn’t imagine what Hank saw in her. The guy had to be up to something.

Cody followed him down the hallway.

“You check the bedroom,” Bo ordered. “Look for drugs or anything weird.” He stepped into what was obviously a home office and went straight to the file cabinet first. He had no idea what he was looking for, but he didn’t find anything interesting and turned to the computer.

The computer appeared to be brand-new, state-of-the-art, and it didn’t have anything on it except the software it had come with.

Discouraged, he glanced around the room, his gaze falling on the answering machine—and the flashing red light.

He reached over and hit the play button.

HANK FELT HIS CELL phone vibrate when he was not two miles from the ranch. While he didn’t lock the doors at the ranch, he did have a security system of sorts: when a door was opened, he got a call on his cell. And since this wasn’t the day that Claudia Nicholson cleaned, he turned around and sped back toward the ranch.

He took the back way in and, as he came over a hill, met with a road full of cattle and two cowboys on horses herding the slow-moving cows to another pasture.

That cost him valuable time.

He parked just over the hill from the house and took out the gun he kept taped on the underside of the SUV seat.

Crickets chirped in the tall green grass as he made his way toward the house. The evening breeze stirred the stand of ponderosas, sending the scent of pine wafting through the warm air. In the distance, the Little Rockies range slowly turned from violet to black against the midnight-blue sky.

Hank could feel the air grow heavy around him, the heft of the gun too familiar in his hand. He’d been here before, too many times, and had thought he’d put this part of his life behind him.

Right. That’s why you keep guns stashed in places easy to get to should you need them.

The back door was unlocked. He turned the knob without making a sound and stepped in. The air inside felt cool and smelled of the orange-scented cleaner Claudia used.

The back door opened into the laundry room. He stepped from it to the doorway to the kitchen. Empty.

He moved quickly through the large commercial kitchen, into the open living area with its huge fireplace and assorted leather furniture. The ranch house had come furnished. He had yet to sit in every chair.