The Rowdy Coyote Rumble by Ann Charles

Author:Ann Charles [Charles, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-940364-26-1
Publisher: Ann Charles
Published: 2016-01-31T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Kate paced Butch’s office, wringing her hands together as she tried to make sense of what she’d seen at The Rowdy Coyote Motel. It had to be a coincidence, didn’t it? Surely she couldn’t have been so naïve, so obtuse not to realize things weren’t as they’d seemed. Not after all this time, all the laughs shared. How could she be so stupid?

She shivered, wishing she hadn’t ditched the black sweat jacket in the dumpster behind the grocery store on her way back to the safety of The Shaft. She moved over to Butch’s chair, dropping into it, needing to calm down and get a grip. His ultra-comfortable chair usually worked magic on her nerves between its butter soft texture and the whiffs of his cologne.

After sitting there trying to clear her mind and focus on her breathing, she started fidgeting. Apparently the chair wasn’t going to cut it tonight. She leaned forward, her head below her knees, letting the blood rush to her head.

When she sat back up and the spinning sensation stopped, an idea popped into her head. Of course!

She hurried over to Butch’s built-in secretary desk, grabbed the key from its hiding spot, and unlocked the bottom drawer. Hanging folders filled it front to back. She fingered through them, looking for one in particular.

There!

She found it and pulled it out, flipping open the file, fingering through the sheets of paper. After almost dropping the file twice, she moved over to Butch’s desk, leaning over the open folder as she dug through the contents.

There! She found it. Lifting up the application for employment, she scanned it, looking for a clue to explain what she’d discovered tonight.

The sound of a voice made her look over her shoulder at the door. Someone was coming.

Before she could do more than stare in panic at the folder lying wide open on the desk, the door swung open.

Butch stared at her, his face showing his surprise.

“Kate.” He hesitated on the threshold, the surprised expression quickly replaced by wary eyes. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company tonight?”

“Uhhhh,” she couldn’t seem to get her tongue to kick into gear. Her forehead grew warm as she floundered for firm footing on what suddenly felt like black ice.

His gaze searched her face and then lowered to the file folder splayed out on his desk. Stepping inside the room, he closed the door and leaned back against it. “What are you doing in here, Kate?”

“You’re here,” she managed to croak out.

Of course he was “here” being that he was standing in the very room with her, but her brain was backfiring as it tried to get rolling in this new direction. She’d been expecting Claire, maybe Gary the bartender, possibly Arlene, but not Butch. He was supposed to be at home tonight taking care of the cars he’d bought at that last auction, she’d thought.

“And so are you,” he walked toward her, keeping the desk between them. “Now that we’ve covered that neither

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