Stone Cold by C. J. Box Read Free Book Online Page A

slacker cliques entirely. It was as if she’d stepped out of an old uniform and pulled on a new one, and her persona had changed as well. She had blossomed from a morose and bitter girl with black fingernails to one who wore Cruel Girl jeans, square-toed turquoise Fatbaby boots, bejeweled belts, and tight western tops that showcased her buxom figure in a way Joe found alarming. The young cowboys felt otherwise. They flocked around her at school and work and sometimes drove by the house at night, hoping to catch a glimpse of her through her bedroom window.
    Warily, Joe entered the living room.
    April sat sidewise on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her, leaning forward attentively toward a compact young manin a black cowboy hat on the other end of the couch as if at any moment she might spring at him.
    She looked at Joe and her eyes brightened and she said, “Daddy!”
    April had never called Joe Daddy before in his life. He was taken aback.
    â€œDaddy, this is my”—she giggled at her hesitation—“
friend
Dallas. Dallas Cates.”
    She said the name with a triumphant whoop.
    The young man jumped to his feet and turned with a practiced grin on his face. He was shorter than Joe but had wider shoulders and biceps that strained at the fabric of his snap-button western shirt. He was lean and hard, and his face looked to be constructed of a series of smooth, flat white rocks—sharp cheekbones, wide jaw, heavy brow. There was a two-inch scar on his left cheek that tugged at the edge of his mouth in an inadvertent sneer. His neck was as wide as his jaw and projected raw physical power.
    Cates’s belt buckle was the size of a silver saucer, Joe thought.
    The young man removed his hat with a graceful swoop of his left hand and pressed the brim to his breast while he reached out with his right to Joe.
    â€œIt’s a real pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pickett,” he said as he gripped Joe’s hand a little too hard.
    Dallas Cates was a local legend, and Joe had run into him before. Cates had graduated from high school a few years before after winning the National High School Finals Rodeo three times in a row in bull riding. He was also a former state wrestling champion. An amazing athlete, Cates had had his pick of rodeo scholarships and had chosen the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, where he won the College National Finals Rodeo his first two years before quittingand going pro and moving to Stephenville, Texas, where so many other national rodeo cowboys lived. People in Saddlestring and throughout the state followed and tracked his weekly winnings the way southern NASCAR fans followed the Sprint Cup Series.
    But that wasn’t all there was to Dallas Cates.
    â€œWhat are you doing in my house?” Joe asked without a smile.
    Cates’s grin didn’t lose its wattage, but something hardened in his eyes and he didn’t let go of his grip on Joe’s hand.
    â€œDaddy!” April cried, jumping up to intervene as if she planned to wedge herself between them. “Don’t embarrass me like that. Dallas came into Welton’s this afternoon to say hello to everybody. Wrangler has him touring stores in the country for its boot-cut jeans. He stood right next to that life-size promotional display we have of him and took pictures with everybody. I told him about Mom’s horses and he said he’d like to see them someday, so I invited him out tonight. That’s all.” Somehow, she remained cheerful during the explanation, Joe thought. Where had the old April gone?
    Joe said, “So if you’ve seen them, I guess you’ll be going.”
    Cates looked to April and arched his eyebrows in a questioning way.
    â€œOf
course
he won’t be going right away,” April said, playfully prying Joe’s and Cates’s hands apart. “He might even stay for dinner.”
    â€œThat sounds like a nonstarter,” Joe said flatly.
    Lucy, their