Page 61 of Silent Deception
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
After a call to Max, Kristin agreed to stop for a quick lunch at Bertha’s Kolaches, a small lunchroom on the town square and just a half block away from the clinic. One of the few places in the area with decent food, Bertha’s offered sandwiches and soups in addition to its namesake pastries.
Ryan guided Kristin past the old-fashioned lunch counter to one of the few small tables in the back. “I used to come here after high school with my buddies,” he said, glancing at the old-style pressed-tin ceiling and vinyl upholstered stools fixed along the counter. “I don’t think a single thing has changed—except the prices.”
“I vaguely remember being here, too, when I was little.”
After a middle-aged waitress took their orders and brought them coffee, she surreptitiously glanced at her watch. She hoped there’d still be enough time to make it to the sheriff’s office with the truck fender. “I wish I remembered seeing you in town.”
“You left town years before I was old enough to drive, so that wasn’t likely. My dad wasn’t one for idle visits to town or for wasting time when we did get in. He mostly left us at home. Other than school and church, we were rarely off the ranch.”
“How is Garrett doing, by the way?”
“Better. His ribs are still sore and he’s been lying around all week, having Adelfa wait on him. Our mother showed up again yesterday, so she’s fussing over him, too.”
“How about his concussion? Is he still having headaches?”
“With Garrett, I suspect everything is always a little worse than it really is. He seems to be doing fine until he knows someone is coming.”
Garrett must’ve been a young boy when his mother walked out, so that wasn’t surprising. “He probably soaks up the attention, don’t you think?”
“That he does. I did find out why he was so sick on the way home, though, and why he refused to get back into the truck at your place.”
“Not the codeine?”
“Adelfa says he gets carsick, and can’t handle being in a backseat at all.Ever.” A hint of amusement sparkled in Ryan’s eyes. “He was sure embarrassed when she told me. It doesn’t do much for his rough, tough bull rider image.”
“How on earth does he handle those spinning bulls? Poor guy.” Kristin sipped at her mug of steaming coffee. “I suppose the pain meds from the ER made him woozy enough that he just got in the backseat of your truck without a second thought.”
The waitress brought their sandwiches and chips, then bustled away to take care of the only other customers, who’d just taken seats at the lunch counter near the window.
Despite their relative privacy, Ryan lowered his voice. “Lucky break on that fender.”
Kristin swallowed a bite of her egg salad on rye. “If it’s the right one—and if it has any evidence on it. This is my one and only lead. The sheriff wasn’t very encouraging, so I hope he’ll follow through.”
“My father is still convinced that Nate was responsible for the losses at the ranch, but I’m not. I want you to know that I’ll keep working on it until I figure it out.” He hesitated. “How close were you to your dad?”
“I didn’t see him as often as I wanted to. Mom and I lived over three hundred miles away, and she and Dad didn’t have an amicable divorce. He worked endless hours on one ranch or another, but saw me when he could.”
“So he could have had, say, a gambling problem and you wouldn’t have known.”
“Gambling?”Kristin thought of the work-worn man with the weary eyes who’d struggled to provide support checks even after his ex-wife had told him they weren’t needed. “I wouldn’t believe it. He wasn’t a particularly social man. He wouldn’t have been comfortable in a casino. He had a number of financial reverses, and I remember him being very frugal.”
“He wouldn’t need to be in a casino to gamble.”
“Why—” Realization dawned, and she glared at Ryan. “I suppose you all think that’s where the money went.”
