Ten-Gallon Tensions in Texas: A Kate on Vacation Mystery (The Kate on Vacation Mysteries Book 3) by Kassandra Lamb Page B
Authors: Kassandra Lamb
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rounded the far corner of the dealership’s main building and jogged her way. When he got to the fence, he was breathing hard. “Lost whoever it was. Looks like five or six cars have their windshields bashed in.”
“What the hell?”
“Yeah…” He stopped to suck in air. “If Sam was the one sabotaging Jimmy’s business, who just smashed up his cars?”
A siren wailed in the distance.
“You got Suze’s number in your cell phone?” Skip asked.
“Yes.”
“Call her and tell her to bring the keys to that gate. I don’t think José’s gonna be in the mood to climb this fence.”
~~~~~~~~
Skip hadn’t been able to talk his sister out of her plan, so he went with her. The morning sun glinted through the windshield of her pickup. He put the visor down on the passenger’s side.
Two miles out of town, they turned onto a dirt lane. The sign at the corner read Purebred Rottweilers .
“It’s what Jimmy wanted to do all along,” Suzanne said, grim-faced as she steered the truck over the bumpy lane. “But I told him it would seem too unfriendly-like. Well, damn it! It don’t seem like we got that many true friends in town anyway.”
“Come on now, Suze, the whole town’s not against you,” Skip said. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? They only got a few cars, and the insurance should cover the damages.”
“They only got a few cars ’cause you happened to come along and chase ’em away. Whoever’s doin’ this has come damn close to puttin’ us outta business.” Her voice broke on a stifled sob.
Skip kept his mouth shut. They rounded a bend in the lane and pulled up in front of a small ranch house. Dogs barked and yapped as they exited the truck.
A short, squat woman came out the back door of the house and headed their way. “Good morning,” she called out.
Thirty minutes later, they were driving back out the lane. An elderly female Rottweiler was curled up, snoring, in the bed of the pickup.
“Well, what did you expect?” Skip said. “She’s a breeder. She’s got puppies or relics too old to breed.”
Suze ignored him, her lips pressed together in a thin line.
After a moment, he said, “Dog’s gonna need things, bowls and a leash and such.”
“Nothin’s open today. I’ll get ’em at the feed store tomorrow.”
He stifled a sigh.
“We’d best keep our mouths shut about the dog’s age,” Suze said. “Let everyone think she’s young and mean.”
“Okay, but she’s gonna need some shelter. Have you thought about where to keep her at the car lot?”
“Jimmy’s got some scrap lumber out in our garage. I suppose Junior and I could cobble together a dog house.”
Skip shook his head. “I’ll see if I can drum up a couple guys to help build somethin’.”
~~~~~~~~
Carrying a pitcher of sweet tea, Kate walked through the gate into the car lot. The Sunday afternoon sun beat down. Heat radiated from the asphalt through the thin soles of her sandals.
She followed the sound of hammering and swearing to the service area. Two shirtless men were helping her husband build a lean-to shelter at the far end of the service building. One was on the short side, barrel-chested with swarthy skin. It took her a moment to recognize José Gutierrez. The third man was fencepost lean and almost as tall as Skip. His fair skin was rapidly turning pink in the June sun.
As she approached, they stopped work and wiped sweat from their brows. She handed around the plastic cups her mother-in-law had provided. As she poured the tea, Skip made the introduction. “This is Jake Davis. He was one of my buddies in high school.”
The tall, skinny guy tipped a straw cowboy hat at her. Then he guzzled his glass of tea.
“It’s great to meet you,” Kate said. “Sorry we missed you at the reunion events.”
Jake looked down at his dusty boots. “I didn’t go. Got no desire to relive high school.”
Skip grabbed a towel lying on the pile of leftover scrap wood. He wiped it over
“What the hell?”
“Yeah…” He stopped to suck in air. “If Sam was the one sabotaging Jimmy’s business, who just smashed up his cars?”
A siren wailed in the distance.
“You got Suze’s number in your cell phone?” Skip asked.
“Yes.”
“Call her and tell her to bring the keys to that gate. I don’t think José’s gonna be in the mood to climb this fence.”
~~~~~~~~
Skip hadn’t been able to talk his sister out of her plan, so he went with her. The morning sun glinted through the windshield of her pickup. He put the visor down on the passenger’s side.
Two miles out of town, they turned onto a dirt lane. The sign at the corner read Purebred Rottweilers .
“It’s what Jimmy wanted to do all along,” Suzanne said, grim-faced as she steered the truck over the bumpy lane. “But I told him it would seem too unfriendly-like. Well, damn it! It don’t seem like we got that many true friends in town anyway.”
“Come on now, Suze, the whole town’s not against you,” Skip said. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting? They only got a few cars, and the insurance should cover the damages.”
“They only got a few cars ’cause you happened to come along and chase ’em away. Whoever’s doin’ this has come damn close to puttin’ us outta business.” Her voice broke on a stifled sob.
Skip kept his mouth shut. They rounded a bend in the lane and pulled up in front of a small ranch house. Dogs barked and yapped as they exited the truck.
A short, squat woman came out the back door of the house and headed their way. “Good morning,” she called out.
Thirty minutes later, they were driving back out the lane. An elderly female Rottweiler was curled up, snoring, in the bed of the pickup.
“Well, what did you expect?” Skip said. “She’s a breeder. She’s got puppies or relics too old to breed.”
Suze ignored him, her lips pressed together in a thin line.
After a moment, he said, “Dog’s gonna need things, bowls and a leash and such.”
“Nothin’s open today. I’ll get ’em at the feed store tomorrow.”
He stifled a sigh.
“We’d best keep our mouths shut about the dog’s age,” Suze said. “Let everyone think she’s young and mean.”
“Okay, but she’s gonna need some shelter. Have you thought about where to keep her at the car lot?”
“Jimmy’s got some scrap lumber out in our garage. I suppose Junior and I could cobble together a dog house.”
Skip shook his head. “I’ll see if I can drum up a couple guys to help build somethin’.”
~~~~~~~~
Carrying a pitcher of sweet tea, Kate walked through the gate into the car lot. The Sunday afternoon sun beat down. Heat radiated from the asphalt through the thin soles of her sandals.
She followed the sound of hammering and swearing to the service area. Two shirtless men were helping her husband build a lean-to shelter at the far end of the service building. One was on the short side, barrel-chested with swarthy skin. It took her a moment to recognize José Gutierrez. The third man was fencepost lean and almost as tall as Skip. His fair skin was rapidly turning pink in the June sun.
As she approached, they stopped work and wiped sweat from their brows. She handed around the plastic cups her mother-in-law had provided. As she poured the tea, Skip made the introduction. “This is Jake Davis. He was one of my buddies in high school.”
The tall, skinny guy tipped a straw cowboy hat at her. Then he guzzled his glass of tea.
“It’s great to meet you,” Kate said. “Sorry we missed you at the reunion events.”
Jake looked down at his dusty boots. “I didn’t go. Got no desire to relive high school.”
Skip grabbed a towel lying on the pile of leftover scrap wood. He wiped it over
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