an out-of-fashion dark dress of thick material that looked like it would rustle when she walked. The expression she aimed at Cassie was equal parts dislike and suspicion.
Cassie didn’t blame her. What kind of person crashed a family get-together?
Rand, seated next to his mother, didn’t even try to disguise his contempt for her. He tossed his silverware to the tablecloth and sat back and glared at her in disgust. While casually refreshing an ice-filled cocktail glass with more bourbon from a decanter, he arched his eyebrows at her as if to say, Get the hell out.
Next to Rand was a young female who looked like she didn’t belong, Cassie thought. At least in this family. She was thin and wore too much makeup and a multicolored tattoo snaked up the side of her neck from her very tight top. Cassie knew Rand wasn’t married and she surmised the girl was either his live-in or somebody he’d picked up and invited to the hauling day meal. The girl nervously drank from an oversized goblet of red wine.
On the near side of the table were two boys aged probably eight and ten. John Wayne’s sons, she guessed. They were duded up in cowboy clothes and the roast beef and vegetables on their plates looked virtually untouched. They looked at her like they enjoyed the distraction she’d brought.
Rochelle, John Wayne’s wife and the boys’ mother, was a wispy and featureless woman with mousy brown hair and an inoffensive manner. She was the first in the room to look away when Cassie found her eyes.
“Everybody,” John Wayne announced, “this is Cassie Dewell. She’s working for Blake’s lawyer to get him off. She wants to walk through the old crew shack to see if the police missed anything.”
No one said hello. No one said anything.
“Not necessarily,” Cassie said softly.
Rochelle turned her attention to her boys and urged them to eat or they wouldn’t get apple pie for dessert. Reluctantly, both John Wayne Jr., and Tristan proceeded to push their vegetables around on their plates as if the activity alone would fool their mother.
Cassie watched as Horst II took in a big wet breath as if loading up, then squawked a staccato series of bursts. She couldn’t make out a single word. Then he did it again.
“Dad wants to know why you picked this moment to interrupt our hauling day feast,” John Wayne said to Cassie with a bit of a smirk. “He wonders if it’s because you don’t look like a woman who misses many meals.”
Margaret shot her husband a reproachful look. Apparently, Cassie thought, she couldn’t understand him, either.
Horst II squawked again.
“He said he was joking,” John Wayne said.
Cassie tried to summon up confidence. Her mouth was suddenly dry. She said, “I remember the hauling day feast. We used to have them when I was a girl. Everybody who helped out was invited….”
She trailed off when she realized that unlike her uncles and aunts, who invited in all of the neighbors and friends who assisted in the work no matter who they were, the Kleinsassers had sent all their employees elsewhere. This meal was only for the immediate family.
Rand said to Cassie, “It’s a little hard to enjoy my meal with you standing there staring at us like we’re fuckin’ zoo animals.”
“I’m sorry,” Cassie replied. She looked to John Wayne for some kind of guidance to stay or go.
Horst II said something that sounded to Cassie like, “Don’t shit.”
“Pardon me?” Cassie asked. She was rattled.
“He said, ‘Don’t sit,’” John Wayne said with a grin.
Before Cassie could reply, Horst II rattled out a long string of invective. While he did, Margaret fixed her eyes on the side of his face as if trying to silence him without succeeding. It was not a kind or sympathetic look, Cassie thought.
Finally, John Wayne said, “He says Blake means nothing more to him than any hopeless loser he passes on the highway or cow shit on the bottom of his boot. He says Blake is no more part of his family than you are and if you’re trying to get him off you’re just as evil as he is.”
Cassie didn’t respond. She couldn’t.
“He also said this might be his last hauling day feast on this earth with his loving family and he’d like you to leave.”
“Gladly.”
“Now, git,” Rand said, using his hands to shoo her away as if she were a dog.
“I’ll be outside,” Cassie said over her shoulder to John Wayne as she turned on her heel. He