Cyril’s eyes flew wide open, his body jerked forward but he recovered quickly. She supposed he also had religious views on single women in the homes of single men. Even though she lived in separate quarters.
It pleased her though, and warmed her insides that she’d surprised him on one count. Cyril remained silent for a moment then worked his mouth into a surly half smile.
“The other reason I came to visit,” Dena said sweetly. “We’re having a chili cook-off on Saturday. Everyone from Three C’s, and the farmhands and their families will be there. We’d love to have you join us. It’ll be good old-fashioned fun.”
Cyril’s face hardened. “Thank you. I’ll think about it.”
“Good. We’ll look forward to your response. Hope to see you Saturday.”
She nudged Nancy and trotted away, but then turned to look over her shoulder. Cyril and the young man stood side by side, staring after her.
Dena urged Nancy on toward the mountain trail. Part of her wanted to gallop away to get as far away from that nasty man as possible, but she knew not to do that. How Cyril had ever been voted into public office she had no idea.
Okay, so she hadn’t exactly found out anything, but she’d achieved one thing. She’d let him know that although she had nothing she could pin on him, she was aware of his unsavory character.
She didn’t want to push Nancy too hard, or make her skittish because of her tension, so she eased up. She thought over Debbie’s conversation from this morning. Like she’d promised, Debbie had gone in to work and checked her books. She’d never treated Carli at the spa. She also suggested that the necklace had been bought at the Christmas fair at St. Matthews because Isabella had told her she wasn’t placing them for sale with anyone other than Debbie.
Dena forced a calm she didn’t feel, and spoke to Nancy the whole way along the trail. She pulled in a couple of deep breaths then wriggled her shoulders to loosen the tension. She was sweating but more from nervousness than the mountain trail, even though she knew the worst part was around the next bend.
They made it past the steep drop and finally rounded the last bend. In the midst of congratulating herself and the horse for a job well done, Dena saw Zeke riding across the flatland, coming fast from Three C’s.
Uh, oh, I’m in serious trouble now. She approached with caution.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he yelled from astride José, horse and rider a short distance from her, sandy clouds billowing behind him.
Dena pulled Nancy to a halt and waited until Zeke was alongside her.
“I was talking with Cyril,” she said, and felt the tiniest disturbance in her stomach at the sight of the rifle across his lap. “How did you know I was there?”
“Rocky called me, said he saw you from the old place.”
“Spies, eh?” She laughed. “Was he afraid I’d get shot at?”
“It’s no laughing matter. You were shot at, remember? You can’t go traipsing around on your own.”
“Calm down, Zeke. It’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t. You promised me last night that you’d—”
“I invited Cyril to the chili cook-off,” she said. “It’s neighborly and good PR. Besides, I thought you only meant don’t ride alone when you were away from Three C’s.”
Zeke glared at her. “Yeah, right, why didn’t you invite him by phone? You went over there to stir up trouble.”
“Not really.” Dena shrugged. “Okay, so I did want to check out the trail and his property, and I wanted the element of surprise. None of that could be done by phone.”
“Look Dena, you’ve got to let this investigation into your friend’s death go. Leave it for the police. It could put you in danger if you start rattling someone’s cage.”
Dena stared hard at him for a moment. Definitely not the time to mention her underwear. Or the young man at Cyril’s house. Besides, she did have a security chain on her door. She took a long breath and let it out. “You have to do what you think is right in that respect, Zeke. I have to follow my instincts.”
Zeke glared at her, a muscle in his jaw working. “I’ll lead,” he said, and turned José around.
And once again, they rode home in silence.
Chapter Seventeen
Zeke drove along Interstate 10, turned up the music, and tried to relax. He normally loved the peace and quiet of driving. Today the lack of conversation depressed him.