Page 27 of The Next Mrs. Parrish

She led Daisy Ann into the kitchen and pointed to a chair at the wooden table. “Please have a seat. I was just about to feed her.” She put the baby in a highchair. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Daisy Ann shook her head. “No thanks.”

Tanya pulled out a jar of baby food and began spooning it into her daughter’s mouth. “So, what can I help you with? You said you were a friend of Amber’s?”

Daisy Ann nodded. She had no idea what Tanya’s feelings toward Amber were, so she’d decided to take a roundabout approach. “Yes, I’m trying to locate her. Did she keep in touch with you after she left?”

“No. After she moved out of my friend Greta’s, where we were staying at the time, we really never heard from her. Greta was pissed. She claims Amber stole some of her clothes. I don’t know if that’s really true. But I never did understand why she left a good job at D’Jangos to work at the W. I mean no way did she make as much in tips.”

“Did she say why she wanted to work there?”

Tanya shook her head. “No, she was kinda cagey about it.” She shrugged. “She wasn’t one for really confiding much.”

“Did you ever see her after she got married?”

“I didn’t even know she did get married until I saw that article about the shooting. Terrible thing. I did get in touch with her after to offer my condolences.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she was pretty torn up about it. Said she couldn’t stay here anymore.”

“Did she explain how it happened or say anything about it?”

“No. She just kept saying it was a terrible accident. I don’t understand how it happened. My husband works for Country Outfitters. At the time of the shooting, we were dating. Anyhow, he said he remembered her. She took shooting lessons from one of his co-workers. The guy said she was good. A deadeye. I was really surprised that she made such a mistake.”

Daisy Ann felt her blood boiling. “That’s strange. Can you give me the name of her instructor?”

“Sure. His name is Frank Winters.”

Daisy Ann stood. “Thanks so much for taking the time to talk to me.” She looked at the baby then back at Tanya. “Enjoy that sweet baby.”

She drove around the block, parked, and made a call.

“Gunnison Country Outfitters.”

“Yes, is Frank Winters available?”

“He’s out on a pack trip with a group. He’ll be back on Friday.”

“Could you please leave a message for him? Ask him to call Daisy Ann Briscoe?” She spelled her name and left her mobile number. “It’s important.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll give him the message.”

Sighing, she put the truck in drive and headed back to the house. It had been a tough morning with all the talk about her father causing her to relive the whole nightmare again. It felt like all the energy had been sucked out of her, and every inch of her body ached with fatigue and grief. It was time to leave. There was nothing more for her here.

—

When her plane left Gunnison, Daisy Ann knew she’d never return to Colorado. The house had felt all wrong without her father’s large presence, hollow and oddly unfamiliar, despite all the summers she’d spent there. Her mother had died more than thirteen years ago, but there were times it felt like yesterday—times when the grief came out of nowhere, sudden and staggering. Her mother and father were both gone now. She thought about the times she’d heard adults talk about feeling like orphans after the last parent died. It had sounded a little melodramatic to her, but now she understood. She was bidding a final goodbye to her childhood, to the mother and father who had loved her unconditionally—her connection to the past severed forever.

As an only child, Daisy Ann had been both daughter and son to her father. She was in the saddle before she could walk, and by the time she was fourteen, she could shoot a tin can off a fence post at thirty feet. Then there were all those times the three of them would go night fishing on Lake Fork to beat the Texas heat, patiently waiting for the bass to be lured by the noise and vibration of theirtopwater lures and spinnerbaits. But as much as Daisy Ann thoroughly embraced this Texas cheek and bravado, she was equally at ease with her femininity. It was freeing, actually, to be able to inhabit both worlds, and she was grateful to both her parents for giving her that freedom.

After landing back in Texas and being picked up by Derek, her driver, Daisy Ann was on her way home when her text tone sounded, and she swiped to read it. From Brenda.

I found the number of the man who knew Amber. Good luck.

Daisy Ann navigated to a reverse number site and punched in the number. The result came back immediately. Martin C. Age 28. Eustis, Nebraska. Bingo! She did a quick search on restaurants in the area, then dialed the number. After three rings, a male voice answered.

“Hello.”

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