Page 33 of Stormy Ride

“Fantastic.”

“Get any other great ideas?” I asked him.

“Nope. Just the one.”

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek.

The next call came as I was parking behind the station.

“Travis, it’s Olivia. I’d like you to come to the Inn for dinner tonight and talk to me. I can’t stand the bad feelings between us.”

“I’ll think about it, Olivia. I’m not keen about how I’m feeling about all of this either. Pretty much ripped me up the middle.”

“I’m so sorry.”

In the office, I spent an hour catching up with Molly and then it was time to change into my suit and get ready for Randy Quade’s funeral.

I was about to head out to the squad when Marilyn Pellegrino called. “I read the article in the paper, Travis, and it made me nervous. Do you have any idea where those thieves might be?”

“Not yet, but I’m working on it. The newspaper article is an effort to flush them out. I’m leaving for the funeral home now. Are you coming?”

“On my way. Will you sit with me?”

“Of course. I’ll watch for you. See you soon.”

Burke & Burke Funeral Home. Coyote Creek.

I arrived ahead of Marilyn and waited for her in the parking lot. As soon as she parked her truck, we went in together and found seats near the back. The chapel was filled to capacity with many sad faces, and we were lucky to find seats at all.

Before the service even started, Marilyn was in tears over Randy, like most of the town.

Halfway up on the righthand side of the chapel, I could see Olivia sitting with Miller Ravary. Why would she invite me for dinner if she hadn’t broken up with the bank stud? No way I was letting myself get deeper into that quagmire. My life was in the fuckin swamp already.

Quade’s Quarters.

The reception following the service was at the Quade ranch south of town. Coffee and cake and a lot of grieving people milling around, reminiscing about Randy and what a great guy he was.

Even though it wasn’t the time or the place, concerned citizens didn’t hold back. I fielded dozens of inquiries about the investigation. Some of the questions came with definite hints that I should’ve caught the killers by now.

The citizens of Harrison County were definitely on edge.

I managed to hold it together and left as soon as it was polite to do so. I had a lot of work to do.

Dry Run Roadhouse.

After a long day of bone-chilling sadness, I sat at the bar and acted as Jack’s sounding board. He was in just as big a mess as I was. He and Savanna had given their second try a good shot, but the baggage that broke them apart the first time hung around and they were breaking up all over again.

The conversation Jack and I were having was private and we were speaking to each other in low voices. I wasn’t pleased when Glenda sat down next to me and asked me to buy her a drink. What was that—three days in a row I’d bought her a margarita? Had her dress shop business gone in the toilet? Were her finances circling the fuckin drain so bad she couldn’t afford to pay for her own drink?

“Nope, sorry, Glenda. No more free drinks. I’m supporting a bunch of people already, and I figure you can buy your own booze.”

She curled her lip at me. “You’re in a foul mood, Travis. I don’t even want to sit next to you.”

“Then don’t.” I glanced in the mirror behind the bar and just about jumped off my stool when Olivia came charging into the roadhouse.

“Uh oh,” said Jack. “We got trouble, right here at the Dry Run.”

Olivia walked up behind me and said, “Travis, we need to talk.”

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