Nightchild

Chapter 47

The roadhouse had been as dreary as it appeared from the graveled parking lot. Nate had quickly left but not until talking the tired, rather hostile proprietor who served as bartender into selling him a bottle of tequila. He'd had to pay triple, but it was worth it, Nate told himself as he tried to suppress all the emotions that were hounding his every thought. There was something in the back of his mind, something Blythe had said about him having sex with Rene. Why? Where would she get that idea? Unless Rene...

Without thinking, he drove by the turnoff leading to the ranch, continuing on to Dallas instead, to Rene Sander's condo. I have to get down to the bottom of things. If nothing else, I have to know where Blythe got this false information.

Stopping in front of the townhouse, Nate held the bottle of tequila up to the streetlight, watching the liquid gold reflect in the half empty container. Leaving his vehicle parked along the curb, he staggered to the porch and pounded on the door then pushed on the bright little button that rang the bell inside.

"Come on, come on! Answer the damn door!" her muttered, impatiently standing on one foot then another.

A shining beam of light momentarily blinded him, sending a stark shaft of pain behind his eyes to his desensitized brain as a car pulled into the drive of an adjoining dwelling. Squinting, he noticed a young couple emerge, glance at him curiously then as quickly forget his existence as the man put his arm along the girl's backside and gently squeezed a widespread buttock before hurrying her into the house.

"Shit," Nate swore, fumbling around in his pants pocket for the cumbersome key ring he habitually carried. Fishing it out, he searched with bleary eyes for the narrow key that would unlock Rene's door. She had never asked for it back and until now, he'd forgotten he still had it.

Inside, he called out to her. There was no answer, so he flipped on the lights and took a quick look around. It was obvious Rene had gone out for the evening. The answering machine was on, no dishes lay in the sink awaiting the housekeeper and her bed was still made. The coffee she usually kept brewed and hot at all times, sat in the carafe cold and stale.

Well, Nate thought drunkenly, I have time. I'll just wait for her. He took a long pull of tequila then relaxed in the rocker-recliner Rene had bought years ago for his visits. Dazedly, he picked up the television remote and idly, not caring what he watched, went through the channels until a nature program caught his attention. Setting the bottle on the floor next to the chair, he pushed back. Maybe he would doze until she got home. God, it felt good. He was so damn tired. His eyes fluttered shut but he forced them open again and stared blankly at the screen. Damn, I wish she'd hurry, was his last thought before passing out.

#

"Where the hell are you?" The question came from a groggy Heathe.

"I'm home now. I'll explain later. Just get your ass over here as soon as you can," Nate ordered.

"When d'ya need me?"

"Now!" Nate was emphatic.

Heathe gave an exasperated sigh and glanced at his alarm clock. "Christ, the sun's not even up yet."

"No, but I am. And it will be and so will Blythe. We've got some things to talk about before I face her."

"Can't we do it over the phone?" There was silence on the other end. "Okay, I'm leavin'...be there in about twenty minutes."

"Good! And Heathe?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Thanks," Nate said earnestly, meaning it with all his heart.