Page 18 of Lone Star Longing
She froze, her hands on the wheel. Then she reached for her phone to call the sheriff.
But no, she didn't have a signal out here. God, what was she going to do? Beck was here—his truck was parked in her usual spot. If Beck had lost patience with his mother and killed her, Lacey didn't want to walk in on that and risk her own life, and that of her baby.
But she didn't think that was the case. Mrs. Conover could make anyone crazy, but Lacey didn't think Beck had a short temper. God, what kind of fool would she be to walk into a house after hearing a gunshot?
She was a nurse, though, and if someone was hurt, she needed to help.
Her dad had insisted she carry a gun, since she was always out, and in some isolated places. He wanted her to be able to defend herself from predators, human or otherwise. He taught her how to shoot and made sure she had her concealed carry license. She always had the gun in the car, but had never needed it.
She hoped she didn't need it now.
Gun in hand, shoulders squared, she marched up to the house, shaking in her sensible shoes. She mounted the steps with just about the last of her strength just as the door swung inward and Beck stepped into view from the shadows, eyes wild.
God, he had lost his mind and shot his mom.
She brought up her gun and took the stance her father had taught her, though she knew she couldn't pull the trigger, not at this close range.
Immediately his eyes dropped to the gun and his hands went up, empty of weapons. Behind him, his mother appeared, shotgun tucked under her arm, and Lacey’s own stance wavered in shock, the barrel of her pistol dipping toward the porch.
Mrs. Conover scowled. “What are you doing in my house with a gun?”
“I—heard a shot.” She couldn't stop her voice from sounding accusing. Lacey double-checked the safety before lowering the pistol awkwardly to her side. She’d left her bag in the car, and the gun was too big for the pocket of her scrubs.
“Snakes,” Beck said, a little out of breath himself. “Rattlers. Under the floor of the bathroom.”
A chill washed over Lacey’s entire body. She had made a point never to use the bathroom of her clients, but she had cleaned them week after week. And the floorboards of Mrs. Conover’s bathroom weren’t the sturdiest. Her knees weakened a little before she got a hold of herself.
“Yeah, we’re going to have to get an exterminator out here before we do repairs. Meanwhile, I need to move my mother into the motel.”
“Hell no, I’m not going there,” Mrs. Conover exclaimed. “I’ll go finish off those snakes myself.” She turned back toward the hall.
Beck caught her arm, dropped it almost immediately. “You can’t. If you hit a pipe and it ricochets, or punches a hole in it, we’ll have a worse situation on our hands. Just...get a few things and I’ll drive you over to the motel.”
“You think snakes are bad, no telling what old man Aguilar will have there. That motel is older than I am.”
“Yeah, but it’s been completely remodeled and updated,” Beck told her. “I’ve been staying there and it’s pretty nice. New beds and sheets and carpets and fixtures. And you can’t stay here. The bathroom is all torn up. It’s unusable. Please, Mom, just go pack a few things, and as soon as I get you settled, I’ll get someone out here as quickly as possible to exterminate and repair.”
Lacey recognized the stubborn expression on Mrs. Conover’s face. She was not going to be swayed, no matter the inconvenience.
“Unless you have a friend you’d rather stay with,” Beck persisted.
“I will stay here, and I will dig a hole in the yard to do my business before I go stay in town.”
“Mrs. Conover, you can barely walk down the steps. How are you going to do that?” Lacey said quietly. “Really, at the motel, you’ll be on your own, they have cable TV, you can even order in from the diner.”
“How do you know all this?” Mrs. Conover demanded, eyes narrowed.
Lacey stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “Everyone knows. They have signs. I mean, the Aguilar family has owned it for years. They were the first ones to get cable, remember? I used to go watch with Sofia when we were younger. Come on, I’ll help you pack. Do you have a suitcase? Or should I get some bags from the kitchen?”
She didn't wait for an answer, just guided the older woman down the hall to her room. She could sense Beck relaxing a bit behind her.
Lacey didn't look into the bathroom as they passed, as if just by looking she would see a snake crawling through the open floorboards. She suppressed a shudder.
Once Mrs. Conover got into the bedroom, she dropped to the bed and set her shotgun against the wall. Her shoulders slumped.
“Let’s check your sugars and your blood pressure before we do anything else. I’ll go get my bag out of the car.” She wanted to put her gun away, too.
“My blood pressure’s going to be through the roof.”
