Confessing to the Cowboy

A million possibilities roared through his head. Could it be another waitress who was killing women she didn’t like working with? Was it perhaps a man who hated the fact that his wife worked at the café? Or was somebody trying to destroy the café itself?

Certainly Mary had already felt the effects of the first two murders. Several of her regular waitresses had quit working based on fear. Now, with Dorothy’s murder, he had a feeling she would lose more waitresses.

How long could she keep the café open with a dwindling staff? And why would anyone want the popular place that was the hub of the small town closed down?

Nothing about these murders made sense. No matter how he twisted what little facts he knew around in his head, there was no easy explanation to find, no answers haunting the edges of his consciousness.

Frustration drove him up from the table. Nothing would get accomplished by him sitting here thinking. He needed to do something in order to advance the investigation.

And he needed to find a home for Twinkie.

She was getting under his skin with her tiny kisses and happy dances. Whenever he sat anywhere in the house she managed to get into his lap and curl up with a contented sigh. He’d actually dressed her in a little furry leopard print dress this morning, worried that she might get too cold in the drafty old farm house where he lived.

He should have a bulldog or a German shepherd, if he was going to have a dog. Not some designer diva who already thought she owned not just his house, but him, as well.

With a change in the direction of his thoughts, he decided to head to the café for breakfast and to check out the crowd. While he ate a couple of eggs sunny-side up he might see somebody who piqued his interest as a potential suspect or find out something Mary had thought about while they’d been apart.

When he arrived at the café the breakfast rush was in full swing. The parking lot was almost full and most of the table space was taken. Cameron rarely sat at a table, preferring a stool at the counter where Mary served the customers.

Cameron moved to an empty stool and smiled at Mary, who looked tired and slightly overwhelmed by the amount of people inside.

A glance around the place let him know only three regular waitresses were working the large floor. Normally there were five or six during this time of the morning.

Mary greeted him with a cup of coffee and a forced smile. “We don’t usually see you here at this time of the day,” she said.

“You’re going to be seeing me a lot around here,” he replied. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she’d already been weeping that morning.

“Casing the joint?” Her smile didn’t quite reach the center of her eyes.

“Casing the customers,” he replied. “Are you doing okay?”

She nodded, the artificial light overhead sparkled in her pale blond hair, accentuated by the black Cowboy Café T-shirt that clung to her full breasts and emphasized her small waist. “Fine, although three of my waitresses called in sick this morning and I have a feeling their illness is going to be permanent.”

“They’ll come back once we solve the crime,” he said with an optimism he didn’t quite feel. His town would be scarred after this. People would talk for years to come about the reign of terror when good women working at the café had been killed. He hated that, he hated that already the killer had left a lasting mark on Cameron’s hometown.

“You want some breakfast?” Mary asked.

“Absolutely, give me the Cowboy special with the eggs sunny-side up.” He watched as she walked away to place the order with the kitchen, unable to help but notice the sway of her shapely hips in the tight jeans.

He whirled around on the stool. He was here on business, not to appreciate the sexy shape of Mary Mathis. He’d already spent almost eight years lusting after Mary.

Several of the diners nodded in greeting as their gazes met his. Familiar faces, friendly faces, and yet one of them might be the killer. The thought brought a knot of anxiety into the pit of his stomach, making the idea of breakfast far less appealing.

Mary returned to where he sat, as usual the countertop between them. “So, I’m guessing there’s nothing new.”

“The mayor got me out of bed this morning with a call for action,” he said, grimacing as he remembered the early-morning phone call. “Dorothy’s sister is flying into Oklahoma City late this afternoon and is renting a car and meeting me at the office around six. I’ve got everyone on the team working different angles, but there’s really nothing new. I still have three dead women and no real leads.”

“It will all come together, Cameron. You’re an intelligent man and have a great team. I know you’re going to catch this guy.” Her voice rang with an optimism he couldn’t quite find in himself at the moment.

“Hopefully sooner than later,” he replied. “Hey, you want a dog?”

She frowned. “A dog?”

“I’m not sure how it happened but I seem to have gained temporary custody of Dorothy’s dog.”

She stared at him for a long moment and then laughed. “You have Twinkie?” She laughed again, the sound warming him despite the fact that he had a feeling he was the object of her amusement.

“Sorry,” she said, finally getting herself under control. “It’s just that Dorothy used to carry that dog everywhere with her. She always had her dressed to the nines and looking more like a fashion accessory than a real dog.”

He scowled. “She’s in a leopard-print dress today. I was afraid my place was so drafty she’d get cold. I need to find her a good home.”

Mary grinned again, as if imagining the dog traipsing around his house in her leopard finery. “Sorry, no dog for us. I don’t have time for a dog, but I’ll ask around for you. I know how sweet Twinkie is so you shouldn’t have a problem finding somebody to take her off your hands.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate it. A dog named Twinkie just doesn’t seem right for me. If I was going to get myself a dog it would be a big one named Bruiser.”

A light of laughter lingered in her eyes. “Ah, that male ego, it gets in the way all the time.”

“Order up,” Rusty yelled from the pass window.

“That’s probably your breakfast,” she said as she hurried away. She returned in a jiffy with a large platter and set it in front of him.

“Later I want to pick your brain about some of the regulars who come in here, especially anyone who has started coming in on a regular basis over the last year or so.” He reached for his fork, although his appetite had fled the moment he’d thought about what lay ahead of him.

What he’d like to do was sit and eat his breakfast and fantasize about the woman who’d served him. He’d like to believe that someday Mary would let him into her life, into her heart. But he didn’t have time for silly fantasies.

He knew a lot of cowboys came in here and flirted with her and he suspected there were times she flirted back, but she’d always made it clear that she had no interest in any romantic relationship.

Apparently the death of her husband in a car accident had tainted her for seeking any other relationship with another man. Her husband must have been something special.

As he began to eat his breakfast, his thoughts shot in other directions. He needed to get out to the family ranch and see his parents, he had to find a home for Twinkie and most of all he had a serial killer to catch before he killed again.

Mary was far too conscious of Cameron as she went about her business serving other customers, and he lingered over his meal. When he’d finished eating, he gestured for a second cup of coffee, and then twirled around on the stool and eyed the rest of the customers.

Although she was too far away and he faced away from her, she knew that his eyes were more brown than green and narrowed in deep concentration. He wasn’t the local law casually enjoying a cup of coffee and visiting with other customers. He was a predator on the hunt for another predator.

As the rush began to slow down, Mary wiped down the counter and thought of the past couple of months. She’d lost two good waitresses to romance and love.

Lizzy Wiles had blown into town and had worked at the café for several months before she’d fallen in love with local rancher Daniel Jefferson. The two had married a month ago and Lizzy was now a full-time rancher’s wife.

Courtney Chambers had been another waitress who had left her job when her boyfriend, Nick Benson, had returned to Grady Gulch to discover that when he’d left almost two years prior Courtney had been pregnant with his child. The two had worked out their past issues, rediscovered their love for each other and had also gotten married. Courtney was now enjoying the luxury of being a stay-at-home mother and there was a rumor that she was pregnant again.

Mary missed the two women, who had been hard workers and friends. And now she was missing three more waitresses, all killed by the same person.

She hadn’t been surprised when several of the waitresses had called in sick that morning. It had become frighteningly obvious since Dorothy’s murder that working as a waitress at the Cowboy Café was dangerous.

How long would it be before all the waitresses quit? For the past five years, since she’d taken over ownership of the café, business had boomed. She’d never had trouble covering the expenses and had actually put away a substantial amount of money for Matt’s college.

But she was aware of the fact that everything could change in the blink of an eye. She’d always been suspect of her good luck after she’d fled her home in California. The first couple of months on the road had been difficult, but once she’d landed in Grady Gulch magical things had fallen into place.