Dying to Win by Patricia H. Rushford

Author:Patricia H. Rushford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Published: 2014-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

14

“Why are you doing this?” Jennie asked, her voice unsteady and tinged with anger.

Lisa didn’t respond.

“Talk to me, Lisa! Who are you trying to protect? Is it Brad? Joel?”

“No!” Lisa turned back to face Jennie. “Why can’t you just leave it alone?”

“I can’t. Courtney … if you could see her you’d understand. The police think her father did it and I thought so too at first, only now I’m not so sure. Please, tell me what you know.”

Lisa stared at the white bedspread. “It’s Courtney, okay? She’s the one I wanted to protect—and me. I didn’t want her to get into trouble. She … she gave me some diet pills. I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

“So she was dealing drugs.”

“No. Not like that. I mean, not the bad stuff.”

Not the bad stuff? Jennie struggled between blowing up at Lisa and not saying anything at all. She chose the latter, stuffed her hands in her jean pockets, spun around, and stalked out of the room.

Her stomach hurt. Her head hurt. She felt like she had lost her best friend. In a way she had. Sure, Lisa would always be her cousin, but she seemed to be drifting farther and farther away. First secretly starving herself, then this—this drug thing.

Jennie needed to talk to someone who was objective. And she needed to go back downtown to pay another visit to Tina. Even though she didn’t consider six-thirty all that late, Jennie figured she’d better not go alone.

She pulled over to the side of the road to use the cell phone in her glove box to call Gavin. He seemed anxious to talk to her as well and gave her directions to his house.

Twenty minutes later, Jennie pulled into a winding drive lined with trees. In less than a tenth of a mile the trees thinned, giving way to fenced pasture on both sides of the road. Two llamas peered at her for a moment, then went back to whatever they were eating. A big white barn sat near a two-story farmhouse atop a gently rolling hill. The white picket fence surrounding the house reminded Jennie of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.

Gavin stood in the driveway with a stream of water directed at a pair of black rubber boots that reached his knees. He waved as she drove in.

“Hi. I’ll be with you in a minute. Had to milk Samantha and Erin.” He nodded his head toward two goats penned up near the barn. “You can wait out here if you want, or come inside.” He brushed the hair out of his eyes and grinned at her.

“I’ll stay out here. I didn’t know you lived on a farm.”

“I wouldn’t call it a farm exactly. It’s more like my mom’s hobby.” Gavin wound the hose and dropped it on a hook beside the barn door. “I need to change. Be right back.”

He jogged to the house, set his boots beside the front door, and disappeared inside. Jennie eyed the goats warily and walked toward them. They, being equally curious, approached the fence and bleated as though looking for a handout.

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