Murder Gone Cold
Author
B.J. Daniels
Reads
18,7K
Chapters
29
Chapter One
Cora Brooks stopped washing the few dinner dishes she’d dirtied while making her meal, dried her hands and picked up her binoculars. Through her kitchen window, she’d caught movement across the ravine at the old Colt place. As she watched, a pickup pulled in through the pines and stopped next to the burned-out trailer. She hoped it wasn’t “them druggies” who’d been renting the place from Jimmy D’s girlfriend—before their homemade meth-making lab blew it up.
The pickup door swung open. All she saw at first was the driver’s Stetson as he climbed out and limped over to the burned shell of the double-wide. It wasn’t until he took off his hat to rake a hand through his too-long dark hair that she recognized him. One of the Colt brothers, the second oldest, she thought. James Dean Colt or Jimmy D as everyone called him.
She watched him through the binoculars as he hobbled around the trailer’s remains, stooping at one point to pick up something before angrily hurling it back into the heap of charred debris.
“Must have gotten hurt with that rodeoin’ of his agin,” she said, pursing her lips in disapproval as she took in his limp. “Them boys.” They’d been wild youngins who’d grown into wilder young men set on killing themselves by riding anything put in front of them. The things she’d seen over the years!
She watched him stand there for a moment as if not knowing what to do now, before he ambled back to his pickup and drove off. Putting down her binoculars, she chuckled to herself. “If he’s upset about his trailer, wait until he catches up to his girlfriend.”
Cora smiled and went back to washing her dishes. At her age, with all her aches and pains, the only pleasure she got anymore was from other people’s misfortunes. She’d watched the Colt clan for years over there on their land. Hadn’t she said no good would ever come of that family? So far her predictions had been exceeded.
Too bad about the trailer blowing up though. In recent years, the brothers had only used the double-wide as a place to drop their gear until the next rodeo. It wasn’t like any of them stayed more than a few weeks before they were off again.
So where was James Dean Colt headed now? Probably into town to find his girlfriend since she’d been staying in his trailer when he’d left for the rodeo circuit. At least she had been—until she’d rented the place out, pocketed the cash and moved back in with her mother. More than likely he was headed to Melody’s mother’s right now.
What Cora wouldn’t have given to see that reunion, she thought with a hearty cackle.
Just to see his face when Melody gave him the news after him being gone on the road all these months.
Welcome home, Jimmy D.
JAMES HIGHTAILED IT into the small Western town of Lonesome, Montana. When he’d seen the trailer in nothing but ashes, he’d had one terrifying thought. Had Melody been in it when the place went up in flames? He quickly assured himself that if that had happened, he would have heard about it.
So...why hadn’t he heard about the fire? Why hadn’t Melody let him know? They’d started dating only a week before he’d left. What they’d had was fun, but definitely not serious for either of them.
He swore under his breath, recalling the messages from her that he hadn’t bothered with. All of them were along the line of, “We need to talk. Jimmy D, this is serious. Call me.” No man jumped to answer a message like that.
Still, you would think that she could have simply texted him. “About your trailer?” Or “Almost died escaping your place.”
At the edge of the small mountain town, he turned down a side street, driving back into the older part of town. Melody’s mother owned the local beauty shop, Gladys’s Beauty Emporium. Melody worked there doing nails. Gladys had been widowed as long as James could remember. It was one reason Melody always ended up back at her mother’s between boyfriends.
He was relieved to see her old Pontiac parked out front of the two-story rambling farmhouse. A spindly stick of a woman with a wild head of bleached curly platinum hair, Gladys Simpson opened the door at his knock. She had a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. She took one look at him, turned and yelled, “Mel... Someone here to see you.”
Someone? Lonesome was small enough that he could easily say that Gladys had known him his whole life. He waited on the porch since he hadn’t been invited in, which was fine with him. He’d been toying with the idea that Melody was probably mad at him. He could think of any number of reasons.
But mad enough to burn down the double-wide out of spite? He’d known some women who could get that angry, but Melody wasn’t one of them. He’d seen little passion in her before he’d left. He’d gotten the impression she wasn’t that interested in him. If he’d had to guess, he’d say she’d been using him that week to make someone else jealous.
Which was another reason he’d known their so-called relationship wasn’t going anywhere. In retrospect though, leaving her to take care of the place had been a mistake. It hadn’t been his idea. She’d needed a place to stay. The double-wide was sitting out there empty so she’d suggested watching it for him while he was gone.
Even at the time, he’d worried that it would give her the wrong idea. The wrong idea being that their relationship was more serious than it was. He’d half hoped all the way home that she’d moved back in with her mom or a friend. That the trailer would be empty.
He just never imagined that there would be no place to come home to.
“Jimmy D?”
From the edge of the porch, he turned at the sound of her voice. She stood behind the door, peering around it as if half-afraid of him. “Melody, I was just out at the place. I was worried that you might have gotten caught in the fire.”
She shook her head. “I wasn’t living there anymore when it happened.”
“That’s good.” But even as he said it, he knew there was more story coming. She was still half hiding behind the door, as if needing a barrier between them. “I’m not angry with you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
He watched her swallow before she said, “I’d rented your trailer to some guys.” He took that news without reacting badly. He figured she must have needed the money and he had left her in charge of the place, kind of.
“Turned out they were cooking meth,” she said. “I didn’t know until they blew the place up.”
James swallowed back the first few words that leaped to his tongue. When he did find his voice, he said, “You didn’t know.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t.” She sounded close to tears. “But that’s not all I have to tell you.”
He held his breath already fearing that the news wasn’t going to get better. Before his grandmother died, she’d explained karma to him. He had a feeling karma was about to kick his butt.
Then Mel stepped around the edge of the door, leading with her belly, which protruded out a good seven months.
The air rushed out of him on a swear word. A million thoughts galloped through his mind at breakneck speed before she said, “It’s not yours.”
He felt equal parts relief and shock. It was that instant of denial followed by acceptance followed by regret that surprised him the most. For just a second he’d seen himself holding a two-year-old little girl with his dark hair and blue eyes. They’d been on the back of the horse he’d bought her.
When he blinked, the image was gone as quickly as it had come to him.
“Who?” The word came out strangled. He wasn’t quite over the shock.
“Tyler Grange,” she said, placing her palms on the stretchy top snug over her belly. “He and I broke up just before you and I...” She shrugged and he noticed the tiny diamond glinting on her ring finger.
“You’re getting married. When?”
“Soon,” she said. “It would be nice to get hitched before the baby comes.”
He swallowed, still tangled up in that battle of emotions. Relief was winning by a horse length though. “Congratulations. Or is it best wishes? I never can remember.”
“Thanks,” she said shyly. “Sorry ’bout your trailer. I’d give you the money I got from the renters, but—”
“It’s all right.” He took a step toward the porch stairs. After all these years in the rodeo game, he’d learned to cut his losses. This one felt like a win. He swore on his lucky boots that he was going to change his wild ways.
From inside the house, he could hear Gladys laughing with someone. He caught the smell of permanent solution.
“Mama’s doing the neighbor’s hair,” Melody said. He nodded and took a step off the porch. “Any idea where you’re going to go?”
Until that moment, he hadn’t really thought about it. It wasn’t like he didn’t have options. He had friends he could bunk with until he either bought another trailer to put on the property or built something more substantial. He and his brothers, also on the rodeo circuit, used the trailer only to stay in the few times they came home to crash for a while—usually to heal up.
Not that he was planning on staying that long. Once he was all healed up from his last rodeo ride, he’d be going back. He’d left his horse trailer, horse and gear at a friend’s.
“I’m going to stay at the office,” he said, nodding to himself. It seemed the perfect solution under the circumstances.
“Uptown?” she asked, sounding surprised. The word hardly described downtown Lonesome, Montana. But the office was at the heart of town—right on a corner of Main Street.
“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “You just take care of yourself and give my regards to Tyler.” He tipped his hat and headed to his pickup.
As he drove away, he realized his heart was still pounding. He’d dodged a bullet. So why couldn’t he get that image of him holding his baby daughter out of his head? Worse was how that image made him feel—happy.
The emotion surprised him. For just that split second, he’d had to deal with the thought of settling down, of having a family, of being a father. He’d felt it to his soul and now he missed it.
James shook his head, telling himself that he was just tired, injured and emotionally drained after his homecoming. All that together would make any man have strange thoughts.
