In Cahoots with the Prickly Pear Posse (A Jackrabbit Junction Mystery--Book 5)

to go up to the mine alone.
“In the meantime,” Grady said. “I could get you into Joe Martino’s condemned house in Yuccaville without much of a problem.”
Joe’s childhood home? “How did you know about that?”
The sheriff smiled. “The blond birdie’s oldest sister mentioned that your girlfriend had cruised by it multiple times over the last couple of weeks. She’s concerned with Claire’s tendency to obsess about Joe Martino’s tarnished treasures.”
Damned Claire and her overactive curiosity. She was supposed to wait for him to scout that old house. Mac wondered if she’d broken in already without Ronnie knowing about it.
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Mac said, curious about Joe’s old home himself. “Let me know if there is something I can do for you in exchange.”
Grady grimaced. “Well, there is something.”
“What?”
“I need your help with Veronica’s mother.”
“Oh, God no.” He’d rather be dropped in a pit of rattlesnakes than deal with Claire’s mom. “What do you need with Deborah?” Mac winced in anticipation of what he might have gotten himself into with this trade deal.
“She doesn’t like me.”
Mac laughed. “Get in line! She wouldn’t pour water on me if I was on fire.”
“Really? She seems to treat you okay most of the time.”
“Sure, when she’s drunk.” These days, that happened to be the case more often than not.
According to Claire, her mother was going through some sort of middle-aged crisis, which included a quick rebound marriage to Manny. Having Claire’s dad in town for the Christmas holiday had only made Deborah harder to handle for her family. Christmas dinner had been a debacle bursting with tears and angry drunken rants that ended with self-loathing in spades.
“Will you put in a good word for me when you can?” Grady asked.
“You want me to convince Deborah that a representative of the law is a good match for her daughter?” Mac snorted. “You must think I’m some sort of sorcerer.”
“It’s worth a try.” Grady stared down the bar at where Ronnie was showing Claire something on one of her order tabs. “It would make life a little easier for Veronica if her mother didn’t hate me so openly.”
It would make life easier for all of them if Deborah would listen to her father and move back to South Dakota.
“I can try, Grady,” Mac said. “But truth be told, you might be better off stuck in the doghouse when it comes to Ronnie’s mom. Deborah’s bites tend to be far worse than her barks.”

Chapter Four
Saturday, December 29th
Way-too-early-o’clock …
Ronnie tiptoed through the dirt and weeds along the edge of the campground’s gravel drive. Gramps’s Winnebago loomed up ahead on the other side of Manny’s Airstream. Both campers’ windows were dark and quiet, like the pre-dawn world around her.
So far, so good.
She’d asked Grady to drop her off in front of the General Store. Her explanation that walking the short distance to the camper was good for her heart and lungs had been met with a frown, but he’d heeded her request. Truthfully, though, she wanted to avoid being caught by her mother after a night in his bed.
As far as Deborah was concerned, dating the sheriff of Cholla County was akin to sending love letters to Charles Manson. It made no sense to Ronnie why her mother turned all squinty-eyed and snarly when Grady’s name was mentioned, let alone when he came around in person.
Claire suspected their mother’s dislike stemmed from a handful of blame incited by the amount of times the sheriff had housed her daughters in his jail cells since they’d moved south—especially Katie. Manny claimed it had more to do with Grady getting free milk from one of Deborah’s prized cows, which spurred Chester to start telling “udder” jokes about Ronnie’s “udder” failures to date. Unfortunately, her past inspired much fuel for laughter.
For the most part, Ronnie didn’t give a crap why her mom wasn’t a fan of the sheriff. Compared to Lyle and his fake jewelry and big fat lies, Grady was a rare blue diamond. However, for some ridiculous reason, Deborah’s disapproval was a burr under his saddle. Watching Grady try to win over her mother had Ronnie pulling her hair out.
She stopped under the Winnebago’s awning and slipped off her cowboy boots. A glance at her mother and Manny’s place found it the same as before—silent. With the stealth of a cat burglar, she fished the spare key from under the RV and unlocked the camper door. Easing inside, she softly shut the door behind her.
Whew! Made it through the gauntlet without a hitch.
A growl sounded at her feet.
She looked down. A certain spoiled beagle sniffed her socks. What was he doing here?
“Henry,” she whispered to Gramps’s dog. “It’s me.” She scratched between his ears, wincing when his tail thumped several times on the carpet.
With any luck, she could grab some fresh clothes and return to the General Store without waking …
Two loud claps in the darkness made Henry yip.
Ronnie nearly peed her pants.
The lamps bookending the couch came on, lighting up the room.
“Well, well, well,” Natalie said from her bed on the couch. “Look who Henry the ferocious guard dog caught. The one and only Veronica Morgan, sneaking in at the butt crack of dawn with her boots and underwear in her hands. It’s almost as if I’ve time-traveled back to our high school days.”
Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m wearing my underwear, knucklehead. Besides, Claire and Katie were the ones who snuck in after curfew. I was an angel and never broke the rules, remember?”
“Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten how boring you were back then. Time has certainly livened you up.”
“You can shove your ‘boring’ where the sun doesn’t shine.” She tossed her boots at Natalie’s legs, making her cousin dodge and giggle. “I was sneaking in this morning because I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“Bzzzzt. Wrong answer. You didn’t want to wake up your mother and you know it, which is silly considering that you’re almost thirty-six years old.”
Ronnie