Read Cattle Valley 27 - Alone in a Crowd Online
Authors: Carol Lynne
“I appreciate that, but more than physical help, I need to pick your brain. I’ll be completely honest, I don’t really know what I’m doing here. When I got the compensation check from the city, I knew I needed to make a life change, so I sold my house and here I am. Unfortunately, I don’t know enough about ranching to make it work.”
It was the first time in a very long time that Smokey felt appreciated for the knowledge he carried. After leaving Cattle Valley, he’d worked his ass off for a man who wouldn’t listen to him when he’d tried to tell him what he was doing wrong. That man lost the ranch and everything he’d worked for. “I can help build this place up, but you’d have to listen and really hear what I say.”
Oggie nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m looking for, but I’ll warn you, I’ve got a hard head. Don’t be afraid to argue with me, it’s what I’m used to.” He gestured to a grassy area between the house and the barn. “I’ve got plans to build a small manager’s house over there, but as you can see, it’s not started. I hope that it’ll be up and ready for you sometime in the fall. In the meantime, you can stay in the main house with me, or find something in town.”
“A friend of mine said I could rent his garage apartment, so if you don’t mind, I’ll probably do that until the house is ready.”
“Is it something I’ve said?” Oggie asked, laughter in his voice.
“Not at all. To be honest, I’m hoping Elliott can become more than just a friend.”
“Oh, the one who owns the grocery store in town. Yeah, I’ve met him, nice guy.”
Elliott was more than nice in Smokey’s opinion. It was too bad Elliott didn’t trust him yet, but Smokey was planning to change that, to show Elliott he was sober and planned to stay that way.
When Rio arrived home from The Gym, he found the garage door open and Ryan using a grinder. He got out of the truck and dodged the sparks as he walked towards his partner. “What’s going on?”
Ryan glanced up. “What’s it look like? I’m trying to break through this damn padlock.” Rio shielded his face and took a step back. It was obvious he wasn’t going to get any more from Ryan until his task was accomplished. In the week since Ryan had returned from Oklahoma, he’d been quieter than usual but had refused to discuss what was bothering him.
Eventually, the heavy lock fell to the floor and Ryan turned off the small grinder. “Didn’t mean to snap at you,” he mumbled.
“Don’t worry about it.” Rio pulled a lawn chair off a hook on the wall and took a seat next to Ryan. “I haven’t seen that before,” he noted, gesturing to the trunk.
“Just came in today.” Ryan set the grinder aside. “It belonged to my grandfather.”
“Your mom give it to you when you were home?” Rio asked.
“This is my home,” Ryan corrected Rio. “But, no, she didn’t give it to me. She’s dead. I took this from the trailer before hiring someone to go in and get rid of all the shit inside.”
Rio was shocked at the news. How could Ryan not tell him? “When’d she die, and why didn’t you tell us?”
Ryan shook his head. “Weeks ago. Evidently they weren’t able to track me down in time for the funeral, not that she had one.”
“So that’s why you went to Oklahoma,” Rio surmised.
“Yeah. The owner of the trailer park wanted his lot rent. Since Dad’s in a nursing home, it all fell on my shoulders.”
Ryan wasn’t close to his parents, but Rio couldn’t believe Ryan could sound so cold about it all. No, not cold, distant, like it had happened to someone else. “Were you planning on telling us?”
“Eventually. Guess I needed a few days first.” Ryan slowly lifted the trunk lid. “This is what I really went down there for.” He pulled out a white wool blanket. “This was my grandparents’ wedding blanket.” Ryan set it on his lap before delving inside for more. “All this stuff was Grandfather’s. The nicest thing my mom ever did for me was to keep it out of my dad’s hands.”
Rio was surprised the clothing was in such good shape. Ryan removed several ribbon shirts, a pair of leather moccasin boots with porcupine quill decorations and a few items of jewellery.
“Here, hold these for me.” Ryan passed the pile to Rio. He reached back inside and pulled out a small stack of pictures. “Here he is.”
Rio steadied the pile of clothing on his lap before reaching for the photograph. The picture had been taken when Ryan’s grandfather was probably in his thirties, maybe a little older. “You have his eyes.”
Ryan glanced at the photo over Rio’s shoulder. “He died before I was born, but I used to pretend he was still alive. When things at home got too heavy to deal with, I’d go off by myself and talk to him. I used to make up these really stupid stories about the stuff we did together and share them with my class. Of course they didn’t know it was all a lie.”
Rio heard the difference in his partner’s voice and turned to face him. Although the tears in Ryan’s eyes weren’t heavy enough to fall, they seemed to balance on his lower lids. Rio couldn’t help but lean in and give Ryan a kiss. He had made up his own stories as a kid to get through a rough childhood. “I’m glad you were able to get his things, but I wish you would’ve let at least one of us go down with you. Is it because you didn’t want us to meet your dad?”
Ryan shook his head. “I didn’t even see my dad.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Rio knew Ryan was bitter about his early years, but as far as Rio knew, Ryan hadn’t seen his father since he’d joined the service. “I thought you said he was in a nursing home? Surely that means he’s not going to last long.”
“I don’t know. I have no real idea of why he’s even in there,” Ryan confessed. He stood and took his grandfather’s treasures out of Rio’s arms and settled them back in the trunk. “Don’t care.”
Without another word, Ryan slammed the trunk shut and walked into the house.
Rio stared at the trunk, at a loss of what to do. He scooped the busted lock up off the floor and walked over to the trashcan in the corner. Tossing the broken piece of heavy metal into the bin, he noticed a cardboard box, its flaps folded closed.
The box didn’t belong to him, so truthfully, he had no business digging it out of the garbage, but his curiosity got the better of him. Rio bent over and opened the box. It was full of pictures and a stack of envelopes, tied together with a pale blue ribbon. He picked up the letters and found they were all addressed to Ryan Blackfeather, with no address listed.
Rio turned the stack over and found they were unopened. “Shit.”
“Hey, Ryan, I know this isn’t your problem, but can you talk to Dean Grooper? He’s still demanding a stoplight at the corner of Cherry and Wheatland, and he’s been calling every day wanting to know why we haven’t put one up.”
Ryan stared at Deputy Brian Allenbrand. “Tell him to call Nate. We’ve got nothing to do with erecting that shit,” he growled.
“I know. Believe me, I know. I’ve told the jackass that same thing a hundred times, but he insists it’s a law enforcement problem.” Brian stood in the doorway, hands on his hips. “I’ll try again.”
Ryan waved his deputy off. He was in the mood for a good fight and who better to take out his anger on than a snooty old man who had nothing better to do than harass drivers as they passed his house? He stood and headed for the door. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go over and talk to him.”
Five minutes later, he was cruising down Wheatland. It was just after six o’clock and the traffic was light, damn near non-existent. What the hell was Grooper thinking? Not only was there absolutely no need for a stoplight at the intersection, but Grooper didn’t even live on Cherry Street. He continued down Wheatland until he entered one of the newer housing developments. Old man Grooper had harped about a traffic light since he was involved in a minor fender bender months earlier. Parking at the kerb in front of Grooper’s small ranch house, Ryan made a quick call to Nate. He was supposed to meet Rio and Nate for dinner before going with Nate to the council meeting.
“Hey,” Nate answered.
“I might be a few minutes late. I’m at Grooper’s,
once again
, trying to convince him that a stoplight isn’t necessary for the corner of Cherry and Wheatland.” Ryan got out of the car, taking his keys with him.
“Of course it’s not necessary. There’s already a four way stop there.”
“Yeah, well he seems to think it’s my job to get the damn thing put in.” He’d asked Nate several times to deal with the situation, so his patience was quickly waning. “If you’d have done your job and talked to him when I asked, none of this would be necessary.”
“I had Carol send him a letter. Grooper’s no different than the fifty other people I have calling to demand this or that,” Nate argued.
“Whatever. Just don’t be surprised when I arrest him for harassment.” Ryan hung up. He shoved the phone in his shirt pocket on his way to Grooper’s front door. He knocked three times and waited. Standing on the small concrete pad, Ryan turned his focus to the dying bushes in front of the house. The entire subdivision was only a year old, but you wouldn’t know it by the state of Grooper’s lawn.
Ryan knocked again. “Mr Grooper, it’s Sheriff Ryan Blackfeather.”
Several moments later, the door opened and the smell of beer hit Ryan like a ton of bricks, throwing him back to his childhood. He shook his head, trying like hell to rid himself of the horrific memories, and made an effort to focus on Grooper. “We need to talk.”
“’Bout time someone started paying attention,” Grooper said.
With the door open, Ryan looked over Grooper’s shoulder to the house within. Shit. Ryan snapped. “Don’t call the station again unless you have a 911 emergency, got it?”
Ryan turned to leave when Grooper made the biggest mistake possible. In a moment of anger, Grooper reached out and grabbed Ryan’s shoulder. “We’re not finished here.”
Grooper barely got the words out before Ryan had him nailed to the doorframe, his forearm pressing against Grooper’s throat. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again,” Ryan ground out between clenched jaws. His whole body shook with anger and the restraint it took not to choke the older man to death. “You’re under arrest.”
“You can’t arrest me!” Grooper bellowed.
“Watch me.” Ryan pulled his handcuffs off his utility belt and slapped one end around Grooper’s wrist. “Turn around.”
Although inebriated, Grooper tried his best to put up a fight, but he was in no condition to take on Ryan.
“I’ll sue you and the whole goddamn city for harassment,” Grooper continued to yell as Ryan led him to the SUV.
Tired of Grooper running his mouth, Ryan slammed the man against the side of the vehicle. “The only one who’s being harassed is my dispatcher, you piece of shit. Now shut the fuck up.”
Ryan was out of line and deep down he knew it. He shoved Grooper in the backseat before walking back up the sidewalk to secure Grooper’s house. He pulled out his phone and called the station.
“Deputy Brian Allendbrand.”
“It’s Ryan. I need you to meet me at Dean Grooper’s house. He’s going to jail.” Before locking up the house, Ryan took another look inside from the doorway. With drapes drawn, piles of dishes and dirty clothes littering the floor and furniture, it looked like Grooper was some sort of shut-in, but Ryan knew the man worked at the high school as a janitor, or at least he used to. Ryan locked the door, determined to dig deeper into Grooper’s life.
Rio took another drink of his beer, pleased with the scowl Nate shot him. “This is good.”
“Shut up,” Nate fired back.
With a chuckle, Rio emptied his glass and gestured to the waiter for another. “I can’t help it if you have to go to a council meeting. I’m going home after dinner to strip down to my underwear and watch TV.” He sat back in his chair, pleased with Nate’s predictable response. God, he loved his partner’s cute little pout.
“Seriously, stop rubbing it in.”
Rio leaned over and licked Nate’s protruding lower lip. “I’m sorry, babe.”
Nate opened to Rio’s tongue and accepted his kiss, obviously finished pouting.
“Is this a private party?”
Rio broke the kiss and tilted his head back for a quick kiss from Ryan. “It’s about time you showed up.”
“Yeah, well, my job isn’t as lax as yours.” Ryan gave Nate a quick kiss before sitting down. “Is Dean Grooper still working at the school?”
Nate shook his head. “Where the hell have you been? Dean hasn’t worked there since his accident. Guess he showed up drunk and they fired him. Why?”
Ryan shook his head. “Nothing, just wondered.”
Minutes after the council voted to approve Nate’s newest endeavour involving the home for unwanted GLBT teenagers, Nate’s cell phone began vibrating across the table. Ryan picked it up and glanced at the display before handing it to Nate. “Eric Cross.”
Nate excused himself from the meeting to take the call from the new lawyer in town, leaving the rest of the council to discuss ways to secure funding for the project. Ryan shifted in his chair. He had a good idea of what Eric wanted. His suspicions were soon confirmed when Nate came back in and cut the meeting short.
“Sorry about that.” Nate sat down. “Well, I think we made a lot of progress on this. I’ll put the word out and start gathering contractor bids. Hopefully I’ll have something to show you by the next meeting.” Nate thumped his hand on the table. “Meeting adjourned.”
Ryan rose with the others, anxious to get as far away from Nate’s angry scowl as he could. “See you at home.”
“Don’t move.”
With a sigh of resignation, Ryan sat back down and waited for the council to leave the room. As soon as they were gone, he got the jump on Nate. “He grabbed me. You don’t grab a police officer.”
“And you don’t arrest someone just because you happen to be in a pissy mood,” Nate fired back.
If it were anyone else, Ryan would continue to argue, but Nate was technically his boss, and although Nate had never pulled that particular card on him, Ryan knew he was in a position to do so. “So are you ordering me to release him?”
“All I’m saying is the city can’t afford a lawsuit right now. We’re so close to doing something worthwhile with the extra money we’re bringing in. If you think Dean Grooper honestly belongs in jail, fine, otherwise, cut him loose with apologies.”
Ryan sprang up out of his chair, knocking it backwards onto the floor. “Sonofabitch!” He stormed towards the door. “I’ll cut the little fucker loose, but I’ll be damned if I’ll ever apologise to someone who thinks they can lay their hands on me in anger.”
Ryan left without a backwards glance. He got into his SUV and headed straight for the station. Cattle Valley only had one holding cell and Grooper was the only prisoner currently occupying the space. If Ryan had his way, Grooper would cool his heels for a couple of days in the windowless space, but obviously, Nate was more concerned with losing money than justice.
He entered the station and walked to the back holding area. From the doorway, he stared at Dean Grooper. “You sober yet?”
Grooper looked up. “That’s none of your business. I was in my own house. You’re the one who dragged me down here.”
Ryan pulled out his keys and unlocked the cell door. “I’ll make you a deal. You stop calling about that stupid traffic light, and I won’t stop you for a sobriety test every time I see you out on the streets.”
“Not much of a warning since I haven’t driven a car since the accident,” Grooper mumbled. When he made no move to stand, Ryan entered the cell.
“So if you’re not driving, why is the stoplight so important to you?” Ryan asked in a moment of compassion.
Grooper finally stood. “Just trying to save someone’s life. Don’t worry, I won’t call again.” He walked out of the cell.
“Wait, I’ll get Brian to drive you home.” Ryan relocked the jail door before following Grooper to the front of the office.
“I’d rather walk.”
Ryan watched through the window as Grooper made his way down the sidewalk. There was something about the slump of the man’s shoulders that didn’t sit well with Ryan. He went back to his office to close the file on Grooper. Although he hoped he wouldn’t have further trouble with him, Ryan knew Grooper would be on his mind for a while.