Perplexed at the vehemence in that usually even voice, she didn’t hear approaching footsteps. He did, because his face went blank again and he turned before the curtain twitched aside.
Doctor… She couldn’t recall his name, couldn’t focus her eyes well enough to read the pin with his name on his chest.
He smiled at her. “Ms. Broussard.” Then, eyebrows raised, he looked at Jed. “And you are?”
“I’m a long-time friend of Linette’s,” he said easily. “Also the investigating officer. Detective Jed Dawson.” He held out a hand.
The two men shook.
“Dr. Carson.” He shifted his attention back to her. “Well, we don’t see anything too worrisome on the CT-scan, but I want to keep you for the night and evaluate how you’re feeling in the morning,” he said, expression kindly. “The fact that you were unconscious for as long as ten minutes is always of concern.”
He talked a little more, promised some pain relief and told her she’d be moved to a patient room in just a few minutes. He’d barely stepped out of the room than a nurse nabbed him to see another patient.
Gaze steady, Jed lowered himself onto the plastic and metal chair again.
She blinked woozily at him. “Go ahead. Ask your questions.”
“You’re in no shape for that.” He sounded angry. “I’ll only ask you one thing. Did you see enough of this guy to identify him?”
“I wish,” she mumbled.
“Any distinctive smell?”
Surprised, she gave that some thought. “No. He kind of stunk, but it was just underarm odor.”
“Like he hadn’t showered in days?”
“Maybe.” Linette frowned. “Or had just worked hard all day in the sun.”
“Okay,” he said gently. “I hear Alex Burke is staying on guard at your place tonight.”
“He could get hurt.”
“Burke said the guy took off at a dead run. Unless he’s stupid, he’ll guess that at the very least, we’ll be doing frequent drive-bys.”
“I don’t understand any of this.”
“No.” There was the gentleness again. “Let’s not worry about that until tomorrow.”
I can worry all I want, she thought on a flare of defiance. But of course that was dumb, because she couldn’t do anything.
And where were those pain meds?
*****
Linette was asleep by the time they allowed Jed into her room. Probably just as well, he tried to convince himself, considering the lack of warmth in her reception of him. Forgiveness didn’t seem to be in the near future.
Not that he deserved it. A few hours ago, Jed would have told himself he didn’t want anything from her, but even then he’d been lying.
He set his phone on vibrate and settled down at Lisette’s bedside. At least the chair was reasonably comfortable, since he planned to stay the night. It beat out his sway-backed sofa.
While he’d waited in the hall, he texted Grant to let him know where to find him. He surely did hope nobody stole any cattle tonight, and even more that no homeowner got it into his head he could scare the bastards away all on his own.
Sitting where he could see Linette’s face, Jed wished he had the right to stretch out in bed beside her. Shelter her with his body, keep her warm.
He yanked himself back with a reminder that his first priority had to be keeping her safe. The darkness, the quiet, were perfect for brooding about whether her assailant belonged to the ring of cattle rustlers. It seemed likely, even though there were so many differences in how this had happened. In other instances, there had to be several men working together, for example. From what little Jed knew at this point, at her place it appeared that the object had been to steal only a single foal.
How old was the foal? He made a mental note to ask Linette how much the foal was worth, too. Potentially, a lot more than one cow or calf. Still, why not take the dam, too? Put her on a lead, and the foal would have trotted right along, cooperative as could be. Or had they been separated for some reason? But either something had awakened Linette, or she’d been awake or even standing guard after the bizarre episode a couple of nights ago. Hard to imagine a woman snuggling down to sleep like a baby after an intruder had been inside her house that recently.
His thoughts drifted as he slouched low in the chair. He didn’t expect to sleep, but he wouldn’t fight it off if it came. He’d be awake in an instant if he heard someone come into the room.
The next thing he knew, his eyes snapped open. A whimper, that’s what he’d heard.
Diffused light from the hall let him see that Linette was flailing at something unseen. The whimper became a raw sound that brought him to his feet.
“Sweetheart.” Jed sat on the edge of the bed, catching one of her hands. “Wake up. It’s okay. You’re safe, I promise.” He had to repeat himself several times. He was smoothing her hair back from her forehead when her lashes fluttered, letting him see the gleam of her eyes. “You had a nightmare,” he said quietly.
“Wot…” She worked her mouth. “You doing…?”
“Why am I here?”
Jed took the sound she made for assent. “I’m staying the night, just in case he thinks you might be able to identify him.” Not the entire truth, but good enough. “A hospital isn’t secure.”
Come to think of it, one as small as this was probably more secure than a large city hospital. People who worked here knew each other, would notice strangers. Didn’t matter. He’d have stayed even if a deputy had been stationed outside the door of Linette’s room.
“Here,” he murmured, putting the button in her hand. “It’ll help you go back to sleep.”
With her eyes fully open now, she had the look of a bewildered, fledgling owl. In fact, he was always surprised by how young she looked. With him thirty-five now, she had to be…he counted. Thirty. Almost thirty-one. At first glance, she could have been a teenager. It might be the scattering of freckles. Up this close to her, Jed saw crinkles beside her eyes from squinting against the sun. Not much of a tan, despite her outdoor occupation. Her skin was too white to take the sun well.
Still watching him, she did squeeze the button then let it fall to the bedcovers. “There must be something more important you could be doing.”
She really was awake.
“No.”
“Like sleeping.”
He smiled faintly. “I was asleep.”
“Have you heard anything?”
“Not a word.”
“So they didn’t catch him.”
“Odds were against it.”
Her gaze slid away. “You know about the other episodes?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Unless there’s something you didn’t tell Deputy Brown.”
She looked back at him. “There’ve been a few times I thought someone might be lurking. Stuff was moved around in the tack room. I’d hear a sound that didn’t belong, get these prickles on the back of my neck for no reason.”
“You sensed someone watching you.”
“It might have all been in my head. I stay in the barn until full dark a lot of the time. Just recently I started locking the house. I’m used to being by myself, but…it can be creepy.”
The muscles in his jaw spasmed. Given subsequent events, he thought someone had been lurking. Watching her. Angry, if the horse shit in her refrigerator was any indication. What Jed didn’t know was whether the attempted theft of one of her Kiger foals was connected to the other things that had been happening.
“You can’t stay alone out there.” Even to his ears, he sounded brusque.
“That’s ridiculous! It’s my home.”
“Someone has been toying with you. He found a way through a locked door. Tried to make one of your foals disappear.”
“I’ll be alert—”
“You were alert.” He stood, afraid he’d put his hands on her unless he opened some distance. “If Alex Burke hadn’t passed, you might be dead.”
Of course she arg
ued. “There’s no reason to think—”
“There’s every reason to think,” he said from between clenched teeth.
The mutinous set to her chin and mouth didn’t ease an iota.
CHAPTER SIX
It took everything Linette had to refuse Jed’s offer to stay nights in her farmhouse. She wanted with an ache that terrified her to accept, to go to bed knowing he was close, wake in the morning to find him in the kitchen brewing coffee.
But she knew better. He was a decent enough man to feel some guilt where she was concerned. When he announced he was done with her, he’d known she was madly in love with him. He could redeem himself now, let go of any lingering regret.
Having him living in the house wouldn’t be comforting, it would savage her. Call it the difference between truly having a lost lover back or discovering he’d died and his ghost drifted through her house. The one would offer joy, the other grief and longing. She could easily imagine the razor-sharp pangs at every movement seen from the corner of her eye.
No.
She finally blurted, “Given our past, I’m just not comfortable having you here.”
He had just delivered her home in his gray Silverado pickup truck, a change from the old Dodge Ram he’d owned during their too-brief relationship.
Troy was hovering in the opening into the barn when she got out quickly so she didn’t have to see Jed’s response to what she’d said. She certainly wasn’t about to wait until he could come around to help her.
When Linette called a greeting, Troy lifted his hand in a wave and smiled tentatively. Arriving at her side, Jed glanced Troy’s way, a cold glint in his eyes. Or maybe the ice was for her.
“I wonder if Troy would be willing to stay nights for a while,” she suggested.
Jed turned an incredulous look on her. “He’s a kid.”
“He’s stronger than he looks, and a good employee. At least I wouldn’t be alone.”
“You’d kill any social life he has.” There was another, assessing glance. “If he has any.”
“That’s just mean.” Although she suspected he’d summed up her young employee accurately. Troy might well be too shy to ask out a girl.
“You’re willing to put a teenager up against the man who slammed your head with the butt of his gun.”
If Jed hadn’t sounded so disgusted, Linette might have weakened. As it was, she snapped, “Maybe I’ll call Alex Burke.”
Jed’s face darkened before going blank.
“Fine.” He circled back around his pickup. Over the hood, he gave her one of his patented impassive looks. “Give us a call if you have any more problems,” he added with what sounded like complete indifference. Then he got in behind the wheel, started the engine and, in moments, made a U-turn and drove down her lane.
She stood there with her heart thudding and watched him turn toward town and pass out of sight.
Oh, dear God, what had she done?
*****
Son of a bitch. Jed knew he hadn’t handled that well, but he was still shocked that Linette had shut him down without any hesitation. She’d rather get attacked in her own home than accept anything at all from him.
You’re surprised?
Yeah, he realized to his dismay. A part of him had thought whenever – if ever – he approached Linette, she’d accept his apologies and open the door to him. When they were together, she had accepted him even in his blackest moods, seeming to understand that he had demons that would never leave him alone.
Jed focused on the steering wheel long enough to see that he was doing his best to strangle it. Chagrined, he deliberately relaxed his hands even as he wondered why, back then, he hadn’t pushed himself out of his comfort zone and tried talking to Linette. But he knew, of course. By the time he was eight or ten years old, the shell that enclosed him had hardened. A bullet might penetrate it, but not much else. When a man had never been loved, never loved anyone, how was he supposed to know how?
He didn’t.
She’d made the smart decision last night and this morning. All he could offer her was another round of the same thing. Great sex, an illusion of companionship, more great sex.
They had chemistry together that was like nothing else he’d ever experienced. And that’s all it was: pheromones.
Easy to say, but his body had gotten excited by the memories he’d involuntarily called up. He had to shift in his seat and reach down to adjust himself. Problem was, he hadn’t had sex, even mediocre sex, in a long time. Since he got here, he hadn’t been looking. All he had thought about was Linette. Then after watching Rick Oberg’s head explode – since he’d blown up Oberg’s head – he hadn’t been capable of responding with any warmth to a woman, even if he’d seen one who pushed his buttons.
He should start looking.
That wouldn’t be happening, not now that he’d set eyes again on Linette Broussard. Hating this emotional whiplash, he groaned.
*****
Gary Webb’s son Hayden looked as grim and tired as you’d expect for a man who was in town to deal with his murdered father’s affairs. The resemblance to his father was immediately apparent, although the differences were striking. That he’d chosen a different kind of life showed in the lack of a deep tan and weathered skin.
Shortly after Jed arrived at headquarters, he’d joined Webb and Grant in the small conference room. Grant and Cassie had taken the guy to dinner last night in the name of a long ago friendship. Jed had no doubt they had discussed the investigation. He wished he could tell the man anything Grant hadn’t already. He’d be happy just to be able to say, We’re following up on some leads. Unfortunately, he’d never seen the use of lying.
“We have the bullet,” he said. “We can match it when we catch these cattle rustlers. I promise you we’re giving that everything we have. Committing murder to get away with your father’s herd, they crossed a line.”
And they had to know it. That knowledge could make them more cautious…or more dangerous.
Hayden nodded in acknowledgement. “If Dad had just dialed 911 instead of grabbing his rifle and going out there himself, he wouldn’t be dead.”
“If he’d even called 911 before he went out, it would have been a help,” Grant said. “We might have had a unit close enough to intervene.”
In fact, they now knew that a deputy, Ben Fischer, had been less than a mile away at roughly the time of Gary Webb’s death. Sally Ostlund, a perennial annoyance, had been sure she had an intruder. Every couple of months, she called, voice shaking, because she heard breaking glass or footsteps downstairs in her old farmhouse. Jed hadn’t met the woman, but had heard plenty about her. Unlike with some local irritants, everyone felt sorry for her. Grant had tried suggesting that, with her husband now gone, she sell the place and consider moving into town or even to LaGrande to be near her daughter, but she wouldn’t hear it. This had been her home since she got married at twenty, and by God she wouldn’t be driven out.
Aguilar, also on nights right now, had shrugged tolerantly. “She breaks up the night. Now, if she had a gun, that might worry me.”
Nobody laughed.
Gary Webb getting murdered on his own place, so close to hers, would make her even more afraid.
Jed was itching to escape the conference room when his phone rang. Dispatch.
“Cheryl,” he murmured, and stepped out into the hall.
“Gene Baxter just called to report a stolen stock trailer,’ she said.
“Okay. I’ll go talk to him.”
Before he left, he stuck his head back into the conference room to tell Grant. Grant’s eyes met his and he said only, “Let me know,” but Jed knew they were thinking the same thing. Baxter was high on Jed’s list of potential cattle rustlers, along with his buddies Mason Thayer and Brian Warring. If he had some reason to think his trailer might have been spotted, claiming it had been stolen might seem like an out.
Last year, those three had joined with Curt Steagall of the Circle S to try to form a
militia out of anger at the amount of land here in the west owned by the federal government. They were talking about a controlled burn on some of that federal land, a highly illegal act. How controlled it would have been with their small numbers and lack of smarts was the scariest part of it. Interestingly, Curt was the only one who held an allotment to graze cattle on federal lands. The others called themselves cattle ranchers but had small operations and held other jobs. In fact, they had no justification for the animosity they felt for the feds.
Grant and Jed had initially wondered if Curt’s murder had something to do with the same festering resentment felt by cattle ranchers that had resulted a few years back in the takeover of the Malheur Wildlife Refuge in southern Oregon. Turned out they were wrong, but Jed hadn’t much liked any of the three men. They all harbored resentment because they wanted to be more important, richer than they were. Mason seemed to be the most belligerent of the three, but all of them had bad attitudes and anger at any authority – including cops – who got in their way.
Problem was, Jed believed these three could well be the muscle of the cattle rustling organization, but not the brains behind it. So far, the operation had been nearly seamless but for the murder, and even then they’d left behind no clues and no witnesses. Jed had not so much as a niggle of an idea who the ringleader could be.
Once he’d talked to Baxter today, he intended to drop in on the other two as well, since their spreads were east of town, too. If he was real lucky, neither of them would be home. Both had been unwelcoming enough to make him wonder what they were hiding. As a direct result, he’d been itching to get a look at their places on his own.
He’d made it halfway across the parking lot to his vehicle when he heard footsteps and turned. Expression enraged, Chris Jarman stormed toward him. Apparently he’d had his sit-down with Grant, and now knew who to blame.
Hands fisted at his sides, muscles bunched, the deputy stopped a couple of feet from Jed. “What goddamn right do you have to claim I’m not doing my job?”
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