Free Roped (Gail McCarthy Mysteries) by Laura Crum

bar," she said.

NINE
    Sonny Santos? Your ex?"
    "Yeah, him." Lisa started the truck and began backing out of the parking lot.
    "Wait a minute," I said.
    "Why?"
    "I want to get a look at him."
    "What in hell for?"
    "Lisa," I said gently, "I know this is hard for you, but if you really are worried that Sonny's stalking your dad, and you really think I can help, I need to be able to at least recognize Sonny if I see him."
    "Gail, I can't go in there. I can't be around him."
    "OK. Just sit out here. Keep the doors locked. It won't take me a minute."
    Lisa started to protest, then said, "He has black hair, and he's wearing a blue shirt."
    I got out of the truck. "I'll be right back," I told her.
    Marching firmly to the door, I pulled it open and walked into the bar. Heads turned at my entrance; curious glances came my way. Ordinary curious glances, the sort that are directed at any newcomer entering a bar. I scanned the room.
    Tim still sat at the counter with the two girls he'd spotted earlier and barely looked at me. Al Borba was in his accustomed place. Janey stood behind the bar; her eyes ran over me dispassionately, the steady, practical, aloof eyes of a bartender. I had no idea if she recognized me or not. Three men in a group, too old to be Sonny, two younger men whom I'd seen at the roping today at a table-they weren't Sonny, either.
    But at the table in the corner, the table where Lisa and I had been sitting, was a dark man in a white straw cowboy hat and light blue shirt. He had the high cheekbones and hard-planed face that came with a predominantly Spanish lineage, and he was every bit as good-looking as Lisa had said. And even from across the room, he seemed arrogant as hell.
    I knew a little bit about Sonny Santos. Anyone who had anything to do with team roping had heard of him. He came from a famous rodeo family; both his father and brother had been national champions, so Sonny had been raised in a world where he was royalty. Not only that, but he'd fulfilled tradition by becoming a national champion himself. It didn't surprise me that he looked arrogant.
    Sonny raised his eyes from his drink and met my stare. His own gaze was dark and cold-appraising, dismissive, callous. I wasn't young and good-looking enough for him. No question about it; in his mind I was just another woman who would like to take him home. He looked away.
    I smiled quietly to myself, scanned the bar once more as if I were looking for someone, shrugged slightly, and turned and went out the door.
    Lisa was still in her pickup, and the engine was running. She flicked the locked door open when I reached for the handle. As soon as I was inside, she pulled out of the parking lot and started down Lone Oak Road.
    "Did you see him?"
    "Yeah, I saw him. He is good-looking."
    "A good-looking bastard."
    "Do you really think he's behind your accidents?"
    "I don't know. Sonny is a strange man. The only thing he cares about is his pride. I can still see the look on his face when Dad ran him off that night; it really scares me."
    I thought about it. Sonny Santos might just be the kind of person who considered himself above any laws of human behavior. If Lisa and Glen, between them, had upset his private fantasy of Sonny as God, maybe it was possible that he would go to some trouble to avenge himself.
    "I don't know, Lisa," I said at last.
    "Who else could it be, if it's not him?"
    "Susan?"
    She shrugged. And then, slowly, "Or Charles Domini, maybe."
    "Charles? Charles has been around here forever. Why would he suddenly start bothering Glen?"
    "I'm not sure. I always thought Charles was mostly hot air. And Dad's thing with Pat, if it is a thing, has been going on for years. But Charles seemed different tonight-more hostile. And one thing I can tell you: Charles can be violent."
    "Yeah, I know. I've seen him get in fistfights before. But that's not the same as stalking someone."
    "It's more than that." Lisa was talking quietly, as if to herself. "Charles can be