“Honestly, I don’t know. I always thought I’d go back eventually, but I really like it here. I like my job, the people I’ve met. I’m not sure if riding can give me what I need anymore. But before I can really sort out my feelings about what lies inmy future, I need to make sure Chrissy leaves and never comes back.”
Suzy swished her lips to the side as if chewing a question she wasn’t sure she should ask.
“What is it?” he asked.
“What was the last straw? The thing that made you quit what you love and start a whole new life?”
He curled his hands into tight fists at his side. “She told me she’d been attacked by a guy I know. Someone who used to be a friend. I reacted first when I should have asked questions. Put him in the hospital then found out she’d been upset with him for dumping her and used me to pay him back. Killed two birds with one stone. Chrissy isn’t just a liar, she’s dangerous. I won’t rest until she’s out of my life—out of this town—for good.”
10
Feeling lighter, Duke left Heather with Suzy and headed back into town. He needed to check in with The Tumbleweed. See if they had any surveillance to confirm that Chrissy had been where she said that she was the night before.
Not like that would extinguish all his suspicions. There’d be no way to know if she’d been in her room all night like she claimed.
Climbing the steps of the little Bed and Breakfast, he walked inside and spotted Ms. Sally sitting in a rocking chair in the living room. An old walnut desk in the entryway was the only indication the house was actually an inn. The rest of the space looked like it’d been ripped out of his grandmother’s home and transported to Hillmore—right down to the floral pattern on the dainty furniture.
Ms. Sally offered him a warm smile but stayed seated. Her long gray hair fell past her shoulders and she knitted what looked like a blanket, the needles in her hands moving faster than he’d think possible for a woman of her age.
Sweeping off his hat, he made his way to her and dipped his chin. “Morning, Ms. Sally. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m just fine,” she said, keeping her focus fixed on her knitting. “My knee’s been bothering me, but that always happens this time of year. Tells me I need to get my holiday decorations out soon.”
The holidays always snuck up on him, but if he was being honest with himself, he seldom had a reason to celebrate. Most years he was on the road, cooped up in a tiny trailer or traveling to the next rodeo. At one point, life on the road had thrilled him. But now the idea of having a place to put down roots, a home of his own to actually decorate, sounded enticing.
“I hope you have someone around to give you a hand with that,” he said. Ms. Sally ran the local bed and breakfast on her own. She loved catering to her visitors but no way the older woman should be gathering boxes from God only knew where.
She chuckled. “I manage to find help when needed, but if you’re offering to lend a hand, I’ll never say no to a cowboy.”
He snorted out a laugh. He’d walked right into that and had no one else to blame but himself. “Sure. I can stop by and get whatever you need another time, but right now I had a couple of questions if you don’t mind.”
“Don’t mind at all. Would you like a cup of tea? Maybe a homemade muffin? I baked some blueberry ones earlier. Might even still be warm from the oven.”
“As good as that sounds, I’ll pass for now.” He settled onto the sofa and set his hat beside him. A gray ball of fluff jumped into his lap and kneaded his thigh with sharp claws. He winced, but the fat cat curled into a ball on his lap before he shooed it away.
“Sorry about that. She thinks everyone’s here for her.”
“It’s her home, not mine.” Duke ran his hands over her silky fur. “I wondered if you could tell me anything about a young woman who stayed here last night.”
Ms. Sally frowned. “I can’t disclose personal information about my guests. I’m surprised you of all people would think I would.”
“I’d never dream of asking you to violate anyone’s privacy. But I think one of your guests came to town to start trouble, and I’m afraid she might be responsible for some vandalism at my house last night.”
“Oh, my,” Ms. Sally said, setting her knitting down and scowling. “It’s hard to believe anyone who’s staying here would do something like that. And honestly, I’m not sure how much I can really help you without giving away information that isn’t mine to share.”
He settled against the lumpy cushion, rethinking his strategy. He’d hoped the owner would just tell him what he wanted to know, but that clearly wouldn’t happen. And without a warrant or even interest from the sheriff’s department, he doubted she’d say anything.
“How about this,” he said, scratching the bottom of his chin. “Can you verify a woman named Chrissy Evans rented a room last night?”
Ms. Sally pressed together her thin lips but gave a subtle nod.
“Was she in her room last night around 10:00 pm?”
Another little nod.
“Did she stay there all night?”
“I don’t think it’s up to me to tell a man about the comings and goings of a young woman, no matter how handsome or sweet he is.”
