Page 234 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

DANIEL

“Danny, call me. We need to talk about Melly Harwood.”

Stupid voicemail. I disconnected and dropped my cell on the counter and stared out the windows into my backyard. The snow was almost gone, only patches in the shade, but we were far from done with it for the year.

“Still no answer?” Deek asked, sitting at my kitchen table eating a sandwich.

His mouth was full, and the words came out garbled.

He took a swig of iced tea to wash it down.

When I got home from the vet, he was here, my fridge raided.

An empty milk jug was on the counter and half a loaf of bread was gone.

He wasn’t the only one in my family who just let himself in.

Deek wore steel-toed boots, jeans, and a company shirt–this time of year long sleeved–which all had the usual hint of dust and wood chips on them that came with the job.

“No.” I’d tried calling him three times in the past twenty minutes since I’d been home.

Sure, he needed to know he had an actual horndog with Earl, but I really wanted to know what was between him and Melly Harwood.

I wasn’t na?ve enough to think my twenty-one-year-old son was a virgin, but that didn’t mean I wanted the sassy redhead to be one of his youthful conquests.

Most guys that age changed bed partners as often as changing socks. I hadn’t been like that since I’d had a toddler to raise. What twenty-something woman wanted a guy with that kind of baggage?

None.

That was why I hadn’t fucked my way across Hunter Valley or done a slew of other youthful things.

“Isn’t that normal?” he asked. “I mean, he’s out in the wilderness fighting a fire. It’s not like there’s a phone booth in the woods. Maybe the cell tower got burned down.”

As a part-time wildland firefighter, he got called out to help on fires around the country as needed.

It was seasonal work and while it was still wet and wintry in Montana, parts of California were hot and dry.

And on fire. He’d been gone ten days already and there was never a definitive return date.

After, he’d be back to work for the family business, possibly not going out again on another fire this year. Or he might be sent on more. Who the hell knew? Summers usually meant fires.

“When’s the last time you saw a phone booth? And I doubt Danny would have any idea what to do if he saw one. I doubt he even has a quarter in his pocket. Who carries quarters?”

He shook his head, then took another bite of sandwich. “Kids these days.”

Deek was three years younger and of my four brothers, looked the most like me.

We had our father’s size and our mother’s coloring.

He kept his dark hair longer than mine and I could see a crease in it from a safety hat he must’ve had on earlier.

We were often mistaken for each other a time or two, but lately my beard solved that problem.

We had three half-brothers: Sebastian, the youngest who went by the nickname Sea Bass; plus twins Saint and Seth. When I was eight, Dad fell for his secretary, Sheila, and divorced Mom to take up with the much-younger woman. At forty-two, he started a second family all having “S” names.

Regardless of mothers, the Pearson brothers had wreaked havoc on Hunter Valley back in our younger days and still did on occasion.

“Then what’s the big deal? Why are you so fucking cranky? I thought you liked being an empty nester.”

“I do, asshole.”

My tone only validated him and I didn’t like him being right.

“You sold your business and made a shit ton off me and Sea Bass. You should be smiling.” He eyed me, frowned. “Retirement doesn’t look that good on you.”

“You’re still an asshole.”

“Get a beer or something and sit the fuck down. Your pacing is hurting my neck.”

I glared, then did as he said, grabbing a bottle from the fridge. The fridge I cleaned the day before because I was bored. It was a little early for a beer, but who cared? I wasn’t going to be operating heavy machinery or a chainsaw. Those days were over. On Saturday, I was outta here.

Instead of sitting, I leaned against the counter. “Why the hell are you eating my food? Don’t you have a job site to be on?”

“Not your problem,” he said, reminding me that I was no longer in charge. “Why were you in the office this morning anyway? You retired.”

I started the Pearson Tree and Landscape Service when I was twenty.

At the time, I had a one-year-old and needed more money than being a cashier at the grocery store could make.

I’d put out flyers, used my mom’s old mower and cut neighbors’ grass that first summer, taking on more and more clients so I could buy a bigger mower and work faster.

Then, one stormy night, a tree fell across the street, and I’d gotten the chain saw out and had the wood stacked in a pile before the city even got a truck out to tackle it.

Someone saw what I’d done and had me come by to do their own tree cleanup.

Then another. And another. After that, the city called me for tree projects.

Over the years, the business grew and grew.

Now, in the summer, Pearsons handled the ski resort’s landscaping.

The golf course as well. The city hired us for projects greater than their small crew could handle.

Local customers like Lindy Beckett who had a tree fall on her house.

In the winter, we had just as many snowplow clients and being in Montana, kept busy around the clock.

Deek and Sea Bass joined the business ten years ago and now the company had over fifty full-time employees plus many seasonal ones. Now, minus one. Me.

Just last week, I sold my portion of the business to my brothers and walked away.

I retired not because I had enough money to do so, which I had, but because I was finally able to live the life I’d put on hold immediately after high school to raise a kid.

This meant the hold music, Deek’s lunch breaks, or anything else related to the business was no longer my problem.

I frowned, not used to the concept at all.

I had to wonder if I ever would. I just needed to get to Scotland and I’d be having the time of my life.

“You eating my food is my problem. Raid your own fridge.” Finding him–or anyone else in my family–in my house was not uncommon.

“You have better food.”

Completely true. I was used to raising a growing boy who needed a constant supply of large quantities of food. And myself. And, if I wasn’t so grumpy, my brothers, too. I expected them to drop in, which they did frequently and without notice.

“Today’s job is near here. Had to wait for the utility services locator so I missed lunch.”

“What kind of job?”

He eyed me over the half-eaten sandwich he held with both hands. Not only had he raided my deli meats, but by the slices of green in there, he’d gotten to my ripe avocado, too. “You bored already?”

I continued to eye him.

“Driveway and front walk replacement with pavers, flower bed borders, then when it’s time to plant, updated landscaping. With the weather report saying no snow, we’ll at least get the driveway done now.”

I grunted. Anyone who had a garage wanted to park their cars in it, especially in the winter, so a hustle on the driveway was important.

“Bobcat? Leveler?”

“Why do you care what equipment we use? Go play golf.”

“Golf? The only golf I’ve played is the miniature variety with a windmill.”

“Fine. Go toss some trees around. Pack.”

That was possible. I needed to stay in shape if I was going to compete at the caber toss.

“Pack? My flight’s not until Saturday.” The Highland Games, the ones in Scotland, were upcoming.

I’d dreamed of going for years, but it hadn’t been possible.

Too busy with a kid and a company and ensuring my employees could pay their bills.

Too much responsibility to vacation and throw some tree trunks around.

This year, it was happening. I would spend time in Scotland before the event.

I had no hotel reservations. Only a one-way airline ticket and a car rental.

I was going to roam. No schedule. No plan.

Just fucking do whatever I wanted. It sounded fucking fabulous.

As for the Highland Games, I was registered to participate in a few events, including the caber toss.

Until I left town, I was a little at a loss on what to do. Deek was right. I was bored.

No kid.

No business.

No woman to… yeah, that was the problem. My dick was mad at me because I walked away from Melly Harwood. And acted like a complete ass. I stormed into a vet visit and pretty much accused her of trapping me with a baby. I never had sex with her but I still went there!

Yes, it was a huge fucking trigger for me, but still. One look at little Melly Harwood and I should have laid off the growling. I should’ve calmly asked her what the messages were about. That there was some kind of mistake. Laughed at how easily they were misinterpreted.

But no. I didn’t do that. I probably scared her far, far away.

“Then go practice or something,” he waved his hand toward the back window. “You’re freaking me out.”

“You’re in my house. Deal.” I went over and snagged a chip from his plate.

He put the sandwich down, grabbed a napkin from the stack in the middle of the table, wiped his mouth. “What’s crawled up your ass and died?” he asked in all seriousness.

I pulled out a kitchen chair, dropped into it. “Earl knocked up another dog.”

Deek grinned. “Earl? The stud. It’s better than it being Danny doing the knocking up.”

I had to agree. No way was I old enough to be a grandfather. “Actually, someone thought I had.”

He frowned, shoved a chip in his mouth. “Knocked up a dog?”

I gave him a look. “The owner.”

His eyes widened. “Someone thought you got the owner pregnant?”

I widened my legs, leaned back. Took another pull of my beer. “I didn’t think it because I sure as hell would have remembered. No, Ang did.”

“Ang?” he grimaced because she’d also changed his diapers, too.

“Ang,” I repeated.

“Since when are you having sex?”

“Since when are you keeping track of my sex life?”

“Since you act like a guy who hasn’t gotten laid in years. Oh, it makes sense now. Your shitty mood is because your balls are full. Go jerk off or something.”

“Seriously?” I shook my head but wasn’t going to tell him he was probably right. My shitty mood was because a sexy woman had me riled and annoyed. And hard. And my balls were full. And blue.

“Why did Ang think you knocked up a dog owner?”

“You won’t believe this story,” I muttered.

He sighed. “Jesus, tell me already. Unlike you, I have to get back to work.”