Mom and Dad bought it from the Steels all those years ago. How old was I? We moved here when I was in elementary school. Was it third grade? Fourth?
The story as told to me is that the property had once belonged to another ranching family, the Shanes, but the Steels bought it from them and then sold it to us years later.
My fingers freeze, hovered an inch above my keyboard.
Do I even want to know?
Do my parents truly own their property?
Surely they wouldn’t purchase an encumbered property. Would they?
Nausea claws at me. Good thing I didn’t eat much lunch.
I inhale. Exhale.
Then I start tapping keys.
The title scan begins…
I close my eyes. I’m not sure why. Maybe I think if I don’t look, it won’t be real.
Except I know I’ll look. Eventually. I can’t not look.
I open my eyes slowly…
…and let out a gasp.
We own our property. Well, my parents own it. Frank and Maureen Pike. Free and clear.
I’m holding my breath, and I didn’t even know it. I exhale smoothly.
How is this possible? How do we own our property free and clear, but the residents of Snow Creek don’t?
I bite my lip.
Actually…I don’t know about the residents of Snow Creek yet. I only know about the business-owned properties.
I rise. I need a walk. A walk around town to think. Just as I grab my purse, Alyssa returns from lunch.
“Donny in yet?” she asks.
“Not yet.”
“Any word?”
“No, and that’s weird because”—I grab my phone—“I texted him earlier— Oh, God.” The text is still on my phone, and it’s unsent.
“What is it?”
“I forgot to hit send on the text. Where is my mind?”
“Wouldn’t he have texted us to let us know where he is?” Alyssa asks.
“You’d think.” I quickly send the text, adding a frantic Where are you?
Then I purposefully shove my phone into my purse. I don’t want to be glancing at it all afternoon. I’ve got enough on my mind.
Chapter Nineteen
Donny
Dale and I end up sitting in his truck.
“If you’re going to yell,” I tell him, “can you hold it down to a dull roar? We’re in an enclosed space.”
Dale breathes in and closes his eyes. Then he opens them. “I’m not going to yell.”
“You just said you were.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Can I see some ID? Are you sure you’re Dale Steel?”
“Listen, Don, level with me. How much does Callie know?”
“She knows about the stuff Murphy found under his floor.”
“And the gas leak?”
I shake my head. “As far as she knows, that’s real. I didn’t tell her I’m behind it.”
“Okay. Good. Good.”
“What about Ashley?”
“That’s different. Ashley’s my wife.”
“I get that, but does she know about the fake gas leak?”
He pauses a moment. Then, “No. She doesn’t. I didn’t want to worry her. She’s dealing with her mother and all, helping her get settled in and dealing with her loss. And we’ll be moving to the new house next week…”
“Really? That’s why you haven’t told her? Because of her mother and the move?”
“Yes, that’s why.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Fuck you, Don.”
“Fuck you right back. You didn’t tell her for the same reason I didn’t tell Callie. This is fucked up. I don’t even like to think about it.”
He doesn’t reply.
Yup. Got him.
“I hate keeping things from her,” he finally says.
“I know. Tell her if you want to. You have my blessing. I don’t want this to screw with your relationship.”
“I almost did, but I ultimately decided not to. For you.”
“For me?”
“You’re the one who’ll lose your license if this gets out. It won’t hurt anyone except you and John Lambert, and while I don’t care about him, I sure as hell care about you. Besides, if anything happened to your precious law license, our mother would suffer.”
I nod. He’s right. My following her into law meant everything to Mom. It still does.
“I know Mom doesn’t get me and I don’t get her,” Dale says, “but I meant what I said. I love her so damned much. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt her.”
“I know that.”
“Do you? Do you really?”
“Of course I do. And I know how much all this shit with Dad is killing you.”
He inhales sharply and nods.
“We need help, though, Dale. That’s why I brought Callie in. I trust her. I love her, and she loves me. I know it’s a lousy time in our lives to try to begin a relationship, but love doesn’t always choose the best time to worm its way in.”
“Don’t I know it.” Dale heaves a giant sigh. It seriously sounds like a gust of wind.
“We can’t do it all,” I continue. “Right now, I wish I were about ten people. One of me could deal with the Murphy situation, one of me could chase down the person who shot Dad. Another could investigate how the hell someone was able to poison him in a hospital bed. One of me could hold down the fort at the city attorney’s office. One of me could deal with the fallout our biological father left us, and one of me—damn, the one I really want to be—could focus on Callie.”