The Calamity Janes Page 20

  “Solution to what? I have a key. I could have let myself in.”

  “Yes, but you might have felt neglected. Now that I’m here, there’s no chance of that. I’m taking the two of you out for dinner. Gina’s cooking at Tony’s. She’s promised to make the munchkin’s favorite pizza. Extra cheese and pepperoni.”

  Caitlyn planted a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best.”

  Emma wasn’t as easily persuaded of that as her daughter was. In fact, she didn’t like this sneaky scheme of Ford’s one bit. It had his fingerprints all over it. Her parents would not have thought of it on their own. In the past she had never arrived home to find them gone. In fact, they were most often all too eager to greet her. They usually assembled the entire family as if welcoming the return of the prodigal daughter. Of course, the family was one short with Matt in Denver, but that was beside the point.

  “Caitlyn, take your bag inside. I need to speak to Ford before we go into town.”

  “But—”

  “Go.”

  As soon as Caitlyn had gone, Emma whirled on Ford. “What did you do? Bribe them to stay away?”

  “Why would I do something like that?” he asked reasonably.

  “Because you wouldn’t want them around when I tell you what a low-down, sneaky, conniving man you are.”

  “No, I wouldn’t want that,” he agreed. “It wouldn’t speak well of you to say such things when you know they’re not true. I’ve been up-front with you about where I see the two of us heading.”

  “That is not what I meant.”

  He grinned unrepentantly. “I know.”

  “And I want to know why you’ve been talking to my daughter behind my back.”

  “It wasn’t behind your back. I called. She answered. We talked. You certainly weren’t eager to take my calls.”

  “For good reason.”

  “In your opinion.”

  “Ford—”

  He cut her off. “I hope you’re hungry. I told Gina to make the pizza a large one.”

  “I’m not going to dinner with you.”

  “Oh?” he said, clearly only mildly disappointed. “What will you tell Caitlyn? She’s really looking forward to this.”

  Emma sighed. He had her over a barrel and he knew it. “Okay, you win, but I don’t have to like it.”

  “No,” he agreed, then leaned down to give her a totally unsatisfying peck on the cheek. “But I’ll do my best to see that you do.”

  Ford was downright pleased with himself at how smoothly it had all gone. Emma had fallen right in with his plans. Okay, not without a protest, but he’d anticipated that. He’d known she wouldn’t deny Caitlyn an outing she had her heart set on.

  Contrary to what he’d claimed, he wasn’t above admitting to himself that it was sneaky and low-down, but it had worked. Once in a while extreme measures were called for, even if they were destined to haunt him. Emma was likely to consider it one more black mark against his character. It would probably make her happy that this one she could lay squarely at his feet without being accused that she was unfairly projecting the bad behavior of others onto him.

  He also knew she had been floored by the discovery that he and Caitlyn had been in touch. He figured he was going to pay for that later, as well. In fact, he was counting on her having quite a lot to say to him, which would necessitate another, more private meeting. Even as annoyed as she obviously was, she wasn’t likely to blast him publicly or in front of her daughter. She might not care about his reputation, but she was very concerned with her own.

  It was late afternoon, well before the usual dinner hour, when they arrived at Tony’s. The restaurant was all but deserted, but Gina was waiting for them. Ford had called to give her a heads-up when they left the ranch. She was proving to be a surprisingly eager ally.

  “The pizza just went in the oven,” she announced. “Peggy’s off till five, so I’ll be your waitress, too.”

  “You most certainly will not,” Emma scolded. “You’ll sit and join us.” She shot a triumphant look at Ford, very pleased with her own sneakiness.

  “How’s the pizza going to get from the kitchen to the table?” Gina asked.

  “Since this little outing was his idea, Ford will handle it,” Emma said.

  “Of course I will,” he said, regarding Emma with amusement. “I’m always eager to impress the most beautiful women in town with my good manners.”

  Gina chuckled. “You’re good,” she said.

  “I know. Now, sit, ladies. I will be back with your drinks in just a minute. You don’t mind, do you, Gina?”

  “Heavens, no. I’m always grateful to have a few minutes off my feet. I’ll take a glass of wine.”

  “Me, too,” Emma said.

  He regarded her with surprise. “Really? I thought you’d want to have all your wits about you.”

  “No need,” she said airily. “I have Gina to protect me.”

  “At least you’re being honest about it,” he said, then smiled at Caitlyn. “What about you, darlin’? A soda?”

  She nodded eagerly. “A really, really big one.”

  “A small one,” Emma corrected. “You can have more, after you finish that.”

  Ford returned to the table with the drinks and the steaming hot pizza. He left it to Gina to keep the conversation light, while he sat back happily and watched Emma visibly unwind. In fact, if he didn’t know better, he’d almost believe she was as happy to be there with him as she was to be with her old friend.

  As soon as they’d finished eating, Gina grinned at Caitlyn. “I have a sudden yen to go to the toy store before it closes. Want to come with me?”

  Caitlyn’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  “You bet. We can see if Barbie has anything new. I think your mom and Ford have things to talk about, anyway.”

  “We do not,” Emma said, clearly flustered. “I’ll come with you.”

  Ford reached over and put his hand atop hers. She jolted visibly, then met his gaze and sighed. “Go ahead, Caitlyn. But don’t try to talk Gina into buying out the store.”

  “Little chance of that,” Gina said with a rueful expression. “One toy’s my limit.”

  When they were gone, Ford said quietly, “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Not running away.”

  She scowled. “I’m getting sick and tired of people accusing me of running away from things.”

  “Then stop doing it,” he suggested mildly.

  “Oh, go suck an egg.”

  “Have you ever noticed that whenever the truth hits a little too close to home, you resort to that particular phrase?” he asked.

  “I do not.”

  He chuckled at her fierce expression. “I work with words. I pay attention to how others use them. Believe me, you use that phrase whenever you’re rattled. Shall I ask Gina? I’m sure she could confirm it.”

  “Maybe you should spend more time worrying about why I use it so often with you,” she grumbled. “Could it be because you annoy me?”

  “Could be,” he agreed cheerfully.

  “That is not a good thing,” she pointed out.

  “Sure it is. You wouldn’t be annoyed if you didn’t care about me. You’d just dismiss whatever I said or ignore it.”

  “Now there’s a good idea,” she said a little too eagerly, and stood up. “I think I’ll catch up with Gina and Caitlyn.”

  He saw no need to try to block her. Instead, he merely noted, “You’re wobbling.”

  “I am not,” she said, though she sat down heavily.

  “You really ought to lay off the wine.”

  She held her head. “I know,” she said. “Why did you let me drink that?”

  “Let you? Could I have stopped you?”

  “No,” she conceded. “But you wanted me tipsy, didn’t you?”

  “It did occur to me that you might be slightly more amenable if your head wasn’t absolutely clear.”

  “Amenable to what?”
she asked suspiciously.

  “Going out dancing with me after we take Caitlin back to the ranch.”

  “No way.”

  “Tomorrow night, then.”

  “Forget it.”

  He sighed. “Maybe I should have recommended a second glass of wine. Oh, well, as long as I at least have you with me now, let’s talk about our relationship.”

  “We don’t have one,” she said flatly.

  “Sure we do. It might be on shaky ground right now, but we definitely have a relationship. I’m willing to work to make it a better one. How about you?”

  “No.”

  “I thought you were more broad-minded than that.”

  “Well, I’m not. And while we’re on the subject of things that annoy me, you are not to call my daughter anymore. She obviously looks forward to talking to you.”

  “And that’s bad because?”

  “Because she shouldn’t start to count on you. Eventually you’ll move on to some other woman, and you’ll lose interest in trying to get to me through Caitlyn.”

  “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No. I talk to her because she’s a bright little girl and I enjoy talking to her. The fact that she’s your daughter is just a bonus.”

  “Sure, every thirty-year-old single man wants to spend his spare time chatting with a six-year-old.”

  “I can’t speak for all single men, but I happen to like kids. They’re not as jaded as some adults I could mention.”

  She frowned at him, then struggled to her feet once more. “I need to go over to the jail to talk to Sue Ellen.”

  “Bad idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Given your shaky condition, Ryan’s going to have some questions.”

  “And I’ll see to it that the answers don’t reflect well on you.”

  “He won’t believe you. He likes me.”

  “But he’s liked me longer.”

  Ford couldn’t help it, he chuckled. “If I hadn’t heard you argue before a jury myself, I would never have believed all the hype about your debating skills.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I’ve heard similar exchanges on a playground.”

  “Oh, go—”

  “I know, suck an egg,” he said, laughing.

  “I could start to hate you,” she muttered.

  “Really? That’s the most promising thing you’ve said today.”

  She looked completely bewildered. “Why?”

  “Hate, love, two sides of the same coin,” he explained. “I think we’re making progress.” He stood up and held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you over to the jail.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can bail you out if Ryan gets any ideas about arresting you for public drunkenness.”

  “I am not drunk.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again. She stood up with careful grace, gave him a haughty look, then strolled to the door. Ford took his time following. There was no point in pushing his luck. He was pretty sure he’d riled her sufficiently for one day.

  Of course, he intended to keep right on doing it until she realized that she could do her worst and he wasn’t going to go away. It might be a shaky first step, but it was nonetheless a first step toward building the trust she believed was so impossible between the two of them. One of these days she was going to have to concede that she could be or do whatever she pleased and his feelings wouldn’t change. Call it a relationship or whatever made her comfortable, he was in this for the long haul.

  Chapter 16

  Emma’s visit with Sue Ellen hadn’t gone any better than her meal with Ford. Sue Ellen was growing increasingly depressed. Not only didn’t she believe Emma could win her case, she clearly didn’t care one way or the other about it. She believed she deserved to spend the rest of her life in jail. Emma left her cell feeling more discouraged about a case and a client than she’d ever felt before. She felt doubly awful because Sue Ellen was a friend, as well as a client.

  “See what I mean?” Ryan asked when Emma went into his office after the visit. “She’s scaring me.”

  “I’ll get the psychologist back in to see her,” Emma said, relieved that Ford hadn’t stuck around during the visit. She’d had about as much of his disconcerting company as she could handle for one day.

  “I thought of that,” Ryan said. “She turned me down flat. She said she didn’t like the woman.”

  “Then we’ll find another one.”

  He shook his head, looking almost as miserable and discouraged as Sue Ellen had. “I don’t think that’s the answer. I’m guessing she’ll find fault with a new one, too. In fact, I’m certain she’ll disapprove of anyone who thinks she deserves another chance at life. She’s as much as told me I’m crazy to give a damn what happens to her. The last few times I’ve tried to talk to her, she’s just curled up on the cot and ignored me. She won’t even look me in the eye anymore.”

  “Has she been this way ever since I left town?” Emma asked.

  His expression turned thoughtful. “No, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure it started last week. Up until then, she was sad, but not utterly despondent. In fact, she seemed more hopeful than she had in years. I spent a couple of evenings in her cell playing cards with her and she even laughed a few times.”

  “Any idea what triggered the change? Did something happen? Did she have a visitor?”

  “People have been coming and going ever since she was arrested. As far as I know, all of them have been well-wishers who wanted her to know they were standing behind her,” Ryan said, then hesitated. “Let me check the sign-in sheet. Maybe it will give us a clue.”

  He brought the book in from the front desk, flipped back two weeks and began to run his finger down the column of signatures. “Sweet heaven,” he murmured after a minute, looking stricken. “Here, take a look.”

  Emma went to peer over his shoulder. There, halfway down the page, was the signature of Kate Carter. “You let Donny’s mother in to see her?” she asked incredulously.

  “Not me. Look at the time. It happened on the night shift. I had a town council meeting that night—I wasn’t around. What the hell was Frankie thinking?”

  “Don’t blame him entirely,” Emma said, knowing the procedures for visits. “Apparently Sue Ellen agreed to the visit.”

  “True, but why would she do that?” Ryan asked. “She had to know that Kate wouldn’t have anything good to say to her.”

  “Maybe she was hoping for forgiveness, or at least understanding,” Emma suggested.

  “From Kate?” Ryan said incredulously. “She spent her entire life being beaten by her father and then her husband. She was bound to think that’s just the way marriage works, that Sue Ellen should have sucked it up and taken it.” He muttered a curse. “I’d heard Kate was saying a lot of stuff around town. I should have warned Frankie to keep her out, no matter what Sue Ellen said.”

  “What stuff?” Emma asked worriedly. The last thing she needed was to have Donny’s mother poisoning the minds of potential jurors. Public sentiment had been firmly on Sue Ellen’s side up until now. She didn’t need a shift just as the trial date neared.

  “Just what you’d expect, that Sue Ellen murdered her precious son, that she was going to have to pay for it. There was a lot of hellfire and damnation thrown in for good measure.”

  “If she said the same thing to Sue Ellen, it’s little wonder she’s so depressed,” Emma said. “I’m getting that psychologist in here whether she likes it or not.”

  She reached for the phone, but Ryan stilled her hand. “Call a minister, instead.”

  Emma considered the suggestion, then nodded. “Good idea. Reverend Foster is kind and compassionate.”

  “More important, so is the God he believes in,” Ryan said quietly. He fixed his gaze on Emma. “What if this doesn’t work? It won’t be good for her to go in
to court acting guilty, will it?”

  “Don’t even think about that,” Emma scolded. “This is going to work. It has to.”

  Ford was sitting in his office, savoring his progress with Emma earlier that evening, when a woman came staggering in, her face flushed, her pupils dilated. If she wasn’t drunk, she was well on her way.

  “You the editor of the paper?” she demanded.

  He lowered the front legs of his chair carefully to the floor. “I am. Who are you?”

  “Kate Carter. It’s my son who was killed by that she-devil over at the jail.”

  His stomach rolled over. “I see.”

  “I want you to print a story about what a fine man my son was. Anybody will tell you that,” she said, weaving on her feet. “Donny Carter was a fine man.”

  “As his mother, I’m sure you feel that way,” he said cautiously. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me about him.”

  Kate Carter sank heavily onto the chair he pulled out, then glanced around. “You got anything to drink in here?”

  He shook his head. “Sorry.”

  “If I talk to you, how much will you pay me?”

  “I don’t pay for interviews.”

  She seemed taken aback by that. “I heard them big tabloids pay millions for stories.”

  “I don’t,” he said flatly. “Not even five dollars, much less millions. But if you want to talk about your son, I’ll listen.”

  “And print what I say? Word for word?”

  “Anything I print will be accurate,” he assured her. “But it will be balanced.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means other people might express other opinions in the same article.”

  She considered that for a long time, then eventually nodded. “Get out your pen,” she ordered.

  “I’d rather use a tape recorder, so there won’t be any question of accuracy later.”

  “Whatever,” she said, then leaned forward to talk directly into the microphone as if she didn’t trust it to pick up her words.

  Ford began his questioning carefully. It was obvious that Kate Carter had an agenda—getting her former daughter-in-law convicted. It was going to be tricky getting her to present any sort of unbiased view about what had happened in her son’s household to bring about the shooting. So far, though, this was the best chance he’d had to get an inside view of that marriage, even if it was bound to be shaded in Donny’s favor.