Saddled With Trouble Page 18

  He nodded. “Early this morning. You’re right, she is pregnant.”

  “I knew it.”

  “But she wasn’t keeping a lover. At least, I’m fairly satisfied with that.”

  Michaela put her hands on her hips. “What do you mean?”

  “Mrs. Bancroft showed me appointment cards with a Dr. Collins.”

  “Dr. Collins?” Michaela knew him quite well. He’d been her doctor when she’d tried to conceive.

  Davis nodded. “Yes, and it seems as though Mrs. Bancroft and your uncle were in to see him several times for consultation. They wanted to have a baby. I followed up with the doctor before heading over here. Mrs. Bancroft used a sperm donor. Her story checks out.”

  “Oh my God. I thought for sure . . . I thought she’d been unfaithful. I thought Dwayne and her had somehow planned this. No wonder she looked as if she hated me.”

  “It was an easy mistake to make, Michaela. I can see how you assumed what you did.”

  She was stunned. Wow. She’d really been off base there, now hadn’t she? “Well, what about Dwayne, and what I told you about the breeding scheme?”

  “We only spoke last night. I’m following up.”

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  “Among other things. I wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  “You did? I’m fine. Really. That was nice of you.”

  “Coffee tomorrow, right? The Honey Bear? Four?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Davis’s pager went off. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Police work.” He started to walk away quickly. That page must’ve been important.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  MICHAELA WALKED TO HER TRUCK AND LEANED against it, looking out at the green rolling hills of the cemetery and the flowers that adorned various graves. The little chapel and funeral home were connected on one of the hills to the left of her. It was a crisp December day— typical Southern California weather— not overcast, but rather a blue sky filled the air with a handful of billowing clouds. Normally, she would have considered it a beautiful day— definitely a good day to get out and ride . . .

  “Nice speech.”

  Michaela turned to see none other than Kirsten standing there, decked out in a black v-neck tight-fitting dress that left nothing to the imagination. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to pay my respects. Your uncle was a respected horseman and I felt I owed it to him to come by.”

  “God, can’t you go crawl under a rock or something? You’re not welcome here.”

  “I didn’t know I needed to be invited. It was in the paper, and like I said, I’m only doing the right thing by paying respect to the consummate cowboy.”

  Oh brother. Michaela didn’t have the strength for a go-around with her. “Thank you. That was kind of you.” She figured if she stayed the course that Miss Rodeo America would be on her way. Kirsten was another one she’d like to question. She owed Michaela some answers, like why in the hell were her fingerprints on Michaela’s pitchfork? And, hadn’t Davis seen her in the funeral home? She knew he was trying to locate Kirsten. Come to think of it, Michaela hadn’t spotted her either, and Kirsten was definitely one who made sure she was seen. That was strange in itself. But she had to have been in the home to have heard Michaela’s eulogy.

  “I know you ran into Brad the other night.”

  “I did.” Nope. The bitch wasn’t going to exit nicely.

  “I would really like it if you could back off of him. I don’t know when you’re going to accept that he is gone out of your life. He ain’t coming back.” Michaela shook her head and sighed. “Oh, he told me all about how you bought him a drink and tried coming on to him, how you wanted him back and how you would forgive him.”

  Michaela didn’t think her neck and shoulders could grow any tighter, but she was wrong. “Honestly, Kirsten, I don’t know why we’re having this conversation.”

  “Because you can’t keep your hands off of my man.”

  Michaela laughed. She didn’t want to go here, but she had no choice. “The last thing I want back in my life is Brad. Okay? Let me explain to you and hopefully you’ll understand this, but Brad was the one who came on to me the other night. He begged me to forgive him and take him back. Once I told him, unequivocally, no, he had to be chased off by a friend of mine. He apparently crawled back home to you; I don’t know why he fed you this ridiculous story. You two get off on the drama. You deserve each other, but the facts are, he’s a creep and always will be. And, you, like me, will probably find out the hard way when he dumps your ass for a new model in a couple of years.”

  Kirsten pulled her arm back to swing. “Why, you bitch!” Her arm was caught in midair by none other than Summer.

  “I don’t think you want to do that, Kirsten. Why don’t you try and show some class for once in your life and go home? Leave this family alone, especially Michaela.”

  Kirsten’s face twisted in rage, but being outnumbered she did as she was told, and like the snake she was, slithered off.

  Michaela faced Summer. “Thank you.” Summer was the last person Michaela would have expected to do what she’d just done, but today was turning out to have quite a few surprises to it.

  “Don’t worry about it. I saw her accosting you and I figured she was the last person you needed today. For that matter I’m sure that I’m a close second, especially after our talk the other day.”

  Michaela smiled. “Normally I would say yes, but funny as it may seem, I don’t feel that way. I’m glad you were there to stop her. I wasn’t prepared for that at all.”

  “I’m sure you weren’t.” She shrugged. “I want to tell you again that I know I’ve made my share of mistakes in the past. I really want to make up for them now. I’m sorry if I came on strong the other day. I’d really like it if we could be friends.”

  Michaela bit her lip. “Friends.” She reached her hand out and Summer shook it. That was a tall order, but why not? She could try, especially if Summer was having Ethan’s child.

  TWENTY-NINE

  THE AFTERNOON WORE ON AT BEN AND JANIE Bancroft’s house. Michaela tried to talk to Cynthia, but Cynthia was always engulfed by waves of people. Also, Michaela’s mom kept her busy bringing food out to the table. Cynthia left early, before Michaela had a chance to speak with her. Her mom said that Cyn was tired and wanted to go home, so Dwayne and Sam drove her back to the ranch.

  Camden lightened the mood with her crazy antics. She even got Michaela’s mom to laugh. By the time the last guest left and Michaela and Camden finished helping with the dishes, all Michaela wanted to do was go home and climb in bed.

  As she finished drying the dishes, her mom said, “Thank you girls for all your help today, and Michaela, for what you said about Lou. It was lovely.” Her mother brushed a hand through her hair, which had recently begun to pale with age, going from golden blonde to blonde with some silver woven into it. She was still a beautiful woman and Michaela thought of her as someone who embodied the word grace, like Audrey Hepburn.

  “You’re welcome, Mom. It’s how I felt, and as far as helping out, there’s no question about it.”

  “Me, too, Mrs. Bancroft. I’m glad I could do it.” Camden folded a dishtowel and set it down on the kitchen counter. She hugged Michaela and her mom. “Well, I hate to bug out on you, but I’m tired. Do you mind?”

  “No. Go on home. I’ll see you there. Thanks for your help.”

  Michaela went into the family room with her mom. Her dad sat in his easy chair. “Hi, pumpkin. You did good today. Lou would be proud of you.” He looked at his wife. “You should know that I told your mom about my gambling.”

  Her mom shook a finger at her. “Don’t you ever keep secrets from me again. I know you think I’m weak and that my heart is easily broken. But you’re wrong. I’m tougher than the two of you think.”

  “Mom, I didn’t think it was my place.”

  “Oh horse puc
ky.” Michaela stifled her laughter. “We’re a family and when we have a problem, whether big or small, I’d better be told up front. Got it?”

  Her dad winked at her. “Got it,” Michaela said.

  “Both of you got it?”

  “Yes ma’am,” her dad replied.

  She turned back to her daughter. “I’m not going to leave your father. But I am dragging his rear to church from now on. I won’t take no for an answer. And, I’m going with him to those Gamblers Anonymous meetings and watch him walk in, sit down, and I will take a book with me and wait for him in the car while he works out whatever it is he needs to work out.”

  Her dad turned red. “See why I love your mother?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t take vows to break them. I knew when I married you, Benjamin Bancroft, that you were far from perfect. We’ll get through this the way we do everything. Together. Now we’ll let our daughter go home. She looks tired.”

  Michaela stood and hugged her mom, who whispered, “Thank you,” in her ear.

  Her drive home seemed longer than usual. She cranked up the radio and tried to sing along to Keith Urban’s latest. Glancing in her rearview mirror, she noticed a set of high beams approaching . . . fast. What the . . . The truck was right on her tail, horn blaring at her. “Geez, buddy, back off.” Michaela stepped on the gas; the truck stayed with her. Panic rose inside her. She went to reach for her phone, but it was in her purse on the floorboard and she needed both hands on the wheel to deal with this idiot behind her. Again she sped up, but the other vehicle hung on her bumper, then passed her, cutting her off so close that she had to slam on her brakes, which sent her truck into a spin. Dizziness swirled in her brain. Is this what it’s like to have your life pass before your eyes? she thought. Visions of her parents, Uncle Lou, Ethan, Camden, raced in front of her at gut-wrenching speed. She couldn’t think or feel anything, other than her heart racing.

  Then her world went black.

  THIRTY

  WHEN MICHAELA OPENED HER EYES, HER TRUCK was on the side of the road. She must have hit her head on the steering wheel, because it sure did hurt. She rubbed it and felt a knot. She couldn’t have been out for too long, though, because no one had discovered her as yet. She leaned back against her seat. What in the world just happened? That certainly felt intentional, as if whoever drove that truck was trying to run her off the road. Still dizzy, she couldn’t think straight, but didn’t want to just sit there. What if the asshole came back? Her hands shaking, she used her cell phone to call Davis, who told her that he’d be there soon.

  Waiting for him, she tried to make sense of what had occurred. Maybe it was high-school kids goofing around. She didn’t really believe that. And why had she called Davis? Damn, she definitely was not thinking clearly.

  When Davis pulled up next to her and got out she could see the look of concern on his face. “What happened?”

  Yep, maybe she shouldn’t have called him. Playing the damsel in distress wasn’t her style. “I don’t know, some kids or someone was driving on my tail and then raced around me and cut me off. I slammed on the brakes and maybe I hit something slick because I lost control and spun out.”

  He took out a small flashlight. “Did you hit your head?”

  “Uh, yeah, but I’m okay.”

  He shone the light on her forehead. “That’s quite a knot. Did you lose consciousness?”

  Hmmm. How to answer this one? She knew he’d likely make her go to the hospital if she said yes, and okay, she probably should tell him the truth. But damn, she was okay, and all she wanted to do was go home and climb in bed. After some aspirin and a good night’s rest, she’d feel a whole lot better. “No.”

  “You’re lying.” He pointed at her.

  “What?”

  “I said, you’re lying. I didn’t get to be a detective by not being able to spot liars and right now you’re not telling me the truth. Come on, let’s go see a doctor.”

  She sighed. “I don’t want to. I’m so tired after today.”

  “No whining. You’re going to the hospital.”

  “Hey, I’m not whiny. That’s not nice. Can’t I just go home? Please?”

  “Nope. And, now you are whining.” He reached his hand out. “Come on.”

  She decided to quit arguing, able to tell it was a battle she wouldn’t win. She took his hand. He put his arm around her waist and led her to his car. “I just banged my head a little. I can walk.”

  “You certainly are hardheaded. No pun intended.”

  He opened the door and helped her in, then went back to lock up her truck. It was nice . . . well okay, maybe even more than nice. It felt good to have a man’s arms around her, wanting to take care of her. There she was— doing it again. Fantasizing. Stupid. Is that why she’d called Davis, so she could continue to live out some bizarre romantic fantasy? He was only doing his job, what every police officer would’ve done in this situation. She didn’t need a man. She was doing fine on her own. His arm around her still felt nice, though.

  He stayed by her side as they walked into the hospital. Rubbing alcohol and cleaning agents smelled as offensive to Michaela as the gloomy interior of the aging facility. Ugh. She hated hospitals. Then again, who didn’t? She waited to be seen by an ER doctor.

  Davis was still concerned. “Did you get a good look at the truck? License plate? Make? Anything?”

  She shook her head. “It was dark and it all happened so fast. The truck might have been blue or black, I don’t know. It definitely wasn’t white. I honestly don’t know.” Something flashed through her mind: the moment when her truck was nearly clipped. Wait. There was something. “You know what, I don’t think there was a plate on the back.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No. Like I said, it all happened so quickly. Do you think it was intentional?”

  “Do you?”

  She didn’t answer right away. She had when it happened, but this week had been so filled with drama and trauma that her mind immediately assumed the worst. “Honestly, it felt that way, but again, it could have been kids being stupid.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I probably shouldn’t say anything to you, but I have to wonder, since we found Kirsten Redmond’s fingerprints on your pitchfork, if she might not have anything to do with this.”

  Michaela recalled what had occurred between her and Kirsten earlier that day after her uncle’s funeral. She told Davis about it.

  “I didn’t see her at the funeral. She must’ve been hiding in the back. I had to rush off.”

  “Kirsten drives a Mustang, but Brad drives a truck, and it’s a new truck. Maybe that’s why I didn’t see plates.”

  “Maybe. I definitely plan to visit Ms. Redmond and your ex again.”

  “By the way, how were you able to match Kirsten’s fingerprints on the pitchfork? DMV records?”

  He laughed. “I wish. Believe it or not, the DMV won’t let us use their records to track criminals. We found her prints because she worked for the county rec center some time back. Government agencies are required to take prints and they are managed by the State Department of Justice, who actually keeps track of arrest records and other sources in what’s called AFIS or Automated Fingerprint Identification System.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t expect this lengthy answer, but something about him talking shop was endearing.

  “I know that Ms. Redmond and your ex have given you a bad time. They both might be involved, or at least Ms. Redmond may be, in trying to scare or possibly harm you. If she caused this accident and I can prove it, this could be considered vehicular assault.”

  “Kirsten could go to jail?”

  “If we can find enough evidence to arrest her, you bet.”

  Kirsten wearing an orange jumpsuit. That did sound appealing.

  After another hour of being checked out, monitored, given some ice and Motrin for the pain, Michaela was finally released. Da
vis had her home in less than twenty minutes. They pulled up to her house. He stopped the car and turned to her.

  “I need you to do me a favor and let me be the cop, okay? No more of this snooping around. You could get hurt. In fact, you did get hurt tonight.”

  “You think the accident is connected to my uncle’s murder?”

  “I’m not sure. I still have plenty of questions for some people. The evidence points to Bean, but I’m not willing to close this case yet. We’re still waiting for handwriting analysis to come back on Bean’s note, too. Now, let this go, and let me do my job.”

  “Fine.”

  He helped her inside. “I can stay the night— on the couch, you know— make sure that you’re okay.”

  “No need. My roommate is home.”

  He brushed her bangs out of the way of her bump. “That looks pretty nasty to me. I know the doctor said that it would be fine, but I can hang out here, at least for a while.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “I know. I’m doing my job. That’s all. I think it would be a good idea if I stayed.”

  Was he pushing so hard to stay simply out of concern? “Don’t they have officers who do that? You know, to babysit those who may be in harm’s way?” she joked.

  “Sure, but look, I won’t bother you, and I can do some work here and then take you to your truck in the morning.”

  “Suit yourself.” She went to get him some blankets and a pillow. He was just doing his job after all.

  Wasn’t he?

  THIRTY-ONE

  THE NEXT MORNING MICHAELA WOKE TO THE sound of voices and remembered that Jude Davis had stayed the night. But wait. Who was he talking to? Camden surely wasn’t up this early.

  Rounding the corner into the kitchen, she could smell fresh coffee. She stopped short when she saw Ethan there with Davis. They each held a cup of coffee and looked to be hanging like good ol’ boys together. Cocoa spotted her and began wagging her tail. Michaela started to back up, hoping they wouldn’t see her. But she was spotted “Mick?” Ethan said.

  “Hi guys,” she said meekly. Dammit, here she was looking like the damsel in distress again. And why did Ethan insist on taking it upon himself to drop in whenever he damn well felt like it? Not that she hadn’t appreciated it in the past, but what must it look like? Oh no. Prickly heat rose on the back of her neck. What must it look like! Davis was here before Ethan arrived. In fact, the guy had stayed the night. And what was Davis thinking, with Ethan barging in as the sun came up! Oh why did she care what either one thought anyway!