Seeing Red(7)

“The reason should be obvious. You’re his only living relative.”

“Well, what isn’t obvious, at least to you, is that I’m a dismal disappointment to him. If you’re thinking that my intervention on your behalf will make a dent, you’re sadly mistaken. In fact, my involvement would work against you.”

“That’s a chance I have to take. I don’t have a choice.”

“How’s that?”

“His property is posted. If I showed up on his doorstep unannounced and unaccompanied, he could have me arrested for trespassing before I even introduce myself. If you’re with me—”

“He’ll kick you off his place twice as fast.”

“He can’t. Your name is on the deed. When your mother died, her share bypassed him and went straight to you. You share ownership of the land.”

With anger, he plucked a chip from the basket, dunked it in the salsa, and popped it into his mouth, chewing as he studied her. “You did your homework.”

“You’re damn right I did.”

“By bringing your secret to light, what do you hope to achieve?”

“Achieve?”

“Come on,” he said. “You caught me drunk, but I’m not dense.”

“Is that the second thing you want to know? What I hope to achieve?”

“No. I’ve got that figured.”

“I doubt it.”

“You want to rock the world.”

They were interrupted again when the waitress returned with a sizzling platter of grilled meat, which she set in the center of the table then crowded the side dishes around it. Kerra passed on his offer to share the enchiladas, but they each built a fajita.

“Delicious,” she mumbled around the first bite.

“You oughta come to Cowtown more often. In Dallas you get Tex-Mex with mushrooms.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Second thing I want to know.”

“I’m listening.”

“How long have you been sitting on this?”

“A while.”

“A while. That’s vague enough. Why jump on it now?”

“It’s not as sudden as it seems,” she said. “I’ve been trying for months to contact The Major. He wouldn’t have it, and now I’m out of time. This coming Sunday is the twenty-fifth anniversary of the bombing. Perfect timing. It would make for amazing television.”

“Ratings, all that shit.”

“Shit to you maybe, Mr. Trapper. Not to me.”

“Just plain Trapper.” He ate for a time, then, “You realize that Sunday is six days from now.”

“The clock is ticking. When The Major hung up on me yesterday for the thirteenth time, I looked you up. I’m desperate.”

He stopped eating. “Well, that explains what brought you tap-tap-tapping at my chamber door. Desperation.” When she didn’t deny it, he made a scornful sound and went back to his food. “I already told you, nothing I say will sway him.”

“Fair enough. Escort me as far as his threshold. You do that, I’ll take it from there.”

He bounced his fork against his plate and looked her over in a way that made her feel uncomfortably hot inside her clothes. She reached for her margarita and sipped through the salt rim. “How long did it take you?”

“To figure it out, you mean?”

She nodded.

“Longer than it should have. I’m out of practice.”

Despite the mule’s kick of the margarita, she took another sip for courage. She was approaching a slippery slope. Or more like reaching for the lion’s tail dangling from between the bars of his cage. “There’s quite a bit about you online.”

At first he didn’t act as though he’d heard her. He finished a bite, washed it down with a swig of beer, then looked across at her, his eyes like blue flame. “Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“You were with the ATF.”

“Um-hm.”

“For five years.”

“And seven months.”

“Before your anger issues got you fired.”

“I quit.”

As the waitress passed by, she paused and asked if they needed anything. Without taking his eyes off Kerra, Trapper thanked her, but gave an abrupt shake of his head.

After she moved on, Kerra said quietly, “You told me today that The Major’s overnight celebrity had no effect on your life. But it did, didn’t it?”

“Yeah. Huge. I was the only kid in my grade who got fifty-yard-line tickets to all the Cowboys’ home games. Couple of times we were invited to the owners’ suite.”

“If you weren’t influenced by the Pegasus, why did you choose a career with a federal bureau that investigates bombs and explosions?”

“The group insurance. Most plans don’t include dental.”

She frowned. “Please stop joking. I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he said in an angry whisper. “Stop interviewing me. I’ve got nothing to say to you about this.”

“Then why’d you call and meet me tonight?”

He didn’t have a ready response. Score! She mentally high-fived herself. “You’re an investigator by profession and inclination. You like puzzles and can’t tolerate one going unsolved. When you were with the ATF, you worked cases tirelessly until you had the answers, found the culprits. You were let go because of insubordination, not for lack of talent or initiative.”