very appreciative and would put in a good word for Lincoln with the chief of the Texas Rangers. Lincoln’s boss hadn’t come out and out and said it would get Lincoln the promotion to lieutenant he was hoping for, but it had been alluded to.
Lincoln wanted that promotion, but he didn’t like getting it this way. He understood the senator wanted to watch out for his daughter. He did not understand him wanting to control her . . . and using Lincoln to do it. Lincoln didn’t like being used. If getting rid of Deputy Meriwether wouldn’t be good for everyone in Simple, he might have ignored the senator’s request. But Lincoln wanted Sam Sweeney’s case to be closed as soon as possible. That wouldn’t happen with the senator’s daughter trying to play detective.
Thunder rumbled overhead, followed quickly by the splatter of raindrops hitting the metal roof of the barn.
Chester got to his feet and walked to the open door. “Looks like a gully washer.” He glanced at Lincoln. “Maybe you should head into town and check on Lucas.”
Dixon’s Boardinghouse was a big rambling plantation-style house on the outskirts of Simple. Since it was raining even harder, Lincoln pulled right up to the large veranda. He left the engine running as he jumped out of his truck and hurried up the steps. It was late, and as he was contemplating whether to ring the doorbell or call Val—who always stayed up late writing—Val spoke.
“Linc?”
He turned to see Val and his new bride cuddled up beneath a quilt on the porch swing. Judging by Reba’s flushed face, he was pretty sure he’d interrupted a heavy-duty make out session. Hopefully, that was all they’d been doing.
He pulled off his cowboy hat and shook the rain off it. “Sorry to interrupt. I just stopped by to pick up Lucas. I didn’t want him driving home in the storm.”
Reba glanced at Val. “I thought you were going to call Linc and tell him we would drive Lucas home.”
“I was going to, but then I got a little distracted.” Val brushed a strand of Reba’s dark red hair behind her ear and smiled. “You are very good at distraction, baby.”
Reba hooked her arms around his neck and smiled contently. “You aren’t so bad at it yourself.”
Feeling like a third wheel, Lincoln cleared his throat. “If the door’s open, I’ll just go get Lucas.”
Val got up from the swing. “He’s not here. He and Gertie went to Cotton-Eyed Joe’s.”
“The bar?”
Val shook his head. “We tried to talk them out of it, but Lucas was dead set on two-stepping with his woman. I insisted on dropping them off just in case they drank too much.” He glanced at his watch. “That was about an hour and a half ago. They should be two-stepped out by now. You want to go with me to pick them up?”
Lincoln held up a hand. “That’s okay. You stay here with Reba. I’ll pick them up and drop Miss Gertie back by.” Before Val could argue, he pulled on his hat and headed down the steps.
Cotton-Eyed Joe’s was a huge warehouse about ten minutes away from Simple. Lincoln had been to the bar a couple of times, so he had no problem finding it. Once, he had been there to celebrate Val’s impending marriage, and the time before that was when he was sixteen and he and all the Double Diamond boys had tried to sneak in. They had been tossed out by a burly bouncer only seconds later. Always the hothead, Logan had given the bouncer some guff and received a black eye for his trouble. He would’ve gotten more than that if Lincoln hadn’t stepped in and held the bouncer back.
The same bouncer was working the front door when Lincoln walked in, but now he had more gut than muscle. When he saw Lincoln, he immediately got up from the barstool he was sitting on and puffed out his chest.
“Ten-dollar cover.”
“I’m only picking up some friends.”
“Still a ten-dollar cover.”
Lincoln pulled out the cash in his pocket and handed the guy a ten. He waited for him to ask to see his ID, but the bouncer seemed more concerned with making money than following the law. Lincoln was about to point out that he should be carding everyone who comes in the door when a round of boisterous whistles and cheering erupted. Something was happening in the mechanical bull pit. Most of the men in the bar were clustered around the