by Janet Dailey
Erin screamed as a cow lunged out of the grassy bar ditch. Its face flashed stark white in the SUV’s headlights. Kyle wrenched the wheel hard left. Brakes screeched as the vehicle shot across the road and jumped the ditch on the far side. The airbags deployed with an explosive hiss as the SUV crashed into the post of a barbed wire fence.
As the shock wore off, Erin’s anxious gaze found Kyle. He was moving and appeared to be all right. Cautiously she tested her limbs, flexing her hands and feet, shifting her back and shoulders. Except for some soreness from the air bag and a painful bruise where the shoulder strap had pulled across her chest, she seemed unhurt.
“Are you all right?” she asked Kyle in a shaky voice.
“I think so.” He gazed through the windshield at the vehicle’s crumpled hood. “Wow, that was close! My dad’s going to kill me when he sees the car.”
Relief swept over her, swiftly followed by a tide of white-hot anger. “You’re worried about the car? We could have been killed, Kyle! You were driving like a crazy man!”
“Well, you made me crazy. If I thought you’d meant it when you said you wouldn’t marry me, I’d have been even crazier. This wreck is as much your fault as mine.” He turned the key in the ignition. The engine caught and started on the first try. “If the wheels aren’t stuck, I should be able to get us out of here.” Shifting into reverse, he backed away from the fence. The wheels made a grinding sound, but by backing and filling, he was able to make progress. The ranch was more than ten miles away. If Erin hadn’t left her cell phone at home, she might have called her father to come and get her. As it was, she had little choice except to stay.
Luckily, the damage to the vehicle’s front end didn’t affect its operation. After several tries and some choice curses, Kyle was able to pull back onto the road. There was no sign of the cow. Erin could only hope the animal had made a safe escape.
“Don’t worry, Erin.” Kyle reached over and patted her knee. “You’ll feel differently about all this in the morning.”
“Don’t touch me. Don’t even talk.”
Erin sat in stony silence as Kyle drove her back to the Rimrock. She’d assumed that she knew him. But tonight he’d shown her a different side of himself—angry and reckless, with no regard for her safety or even for his own.
What if they’d been married, with their children in the car? He could have killed them all.
If she’d had any doubts about not marrying Kyle, those doubts were gone.
Now the question was, would Kyle accept her decision?
* * *
From her vantage point in the outcrop above the horse paddock, Marie had a clear view of the Rimrock’s main house. Aided by the security light, her sharp eyes could see that the black SUV pulling up next to the porch was damaged in front. And the figure climbing out of the passenger side, slamming the door behind her before she raced up the steps, was Erin Tyler.
Marie couldn’t see the driver of the departing SUV, but the situation appeared to be a date gone bad. Maybe that had something to do with the wrecked car.
If the accident had just happened, Marie mused, it was a shame she hadn’t been there. She could’ve taken out the girl and her boyfriend, done some skilled rearranging, and nobody would have suspected the truth. As it was, the girl wouldn’t be going anywhere until tomorrow. Time to call it a night and go back to the deserted line shack where she’d made her camp.
Marie cursed as she wound her way among the rocks, taking care not to leave a trail. She was losing patience. She’d already missed the appointment with her parole officer. If it took her much longer to complete Stella’s job, pick up the drugs, unload them for cash, and beat it out of the country, the cops would be on her tail. Or worse, she’d have to run before the job was done, and she’d be stuck with no money, a crappy motorbike that barely ran, and no place to go.
From higher up, she could see the distant lights of a smaller ranch. She’d checked it out earlier. Sky Fletcher, her cousin, had done well for himself—a fine house, a high-class wife, and plenty of livestock. Marie and Sky had grown up together after his mother died and her family took him in. As children, they’d been like brother and sister. But those days were over. The first time she’d shown up here, Sky had tried to help her. But he’d washed his hands of her after she’d tried to murder his fiancée, by ramming her car. If she were to show her face now, or give any other sign that she was here, Sky would be the first one to call the police.
Her motorbike was waiting on the far side of a rocky hill. Marie avoided riding the noisy piece of junk within hearing of the central ranch. She was getting tired of that, too. Her cockroach kicker boots, relics from before her arrest, weren’t made for walking. Tonight her feet were screaming. It was a relief to climb on the bike and roar off to her vermin-infested hideout.
She’d spent the better part of a week watching the ranch, waiting for a chance to move in on the little Tyler princess. That chance hadn’t come, and Marie was running out of time. She needed a more aggressive plan. If that plan entailed more risk, so be it. Her whole future depended on her killing Erin Tyler.
CHAPTER NINE
THE NEXT MORNING, AFTER HER FATHER HAD LEFT THE HOUSE, ERIN prepared to go into town and present her evidence to the sheriff. Except for the bird gun, which Will had locked in his gun cabinet, the box of personal things found with Jasper’s body had been left in the ranch office. The box had been opened, but no one had felt the need, or the desire, to go through the contents in any detail. So much the better, Erin told herself as she lifted the box out of the corner and set it on the desk. Jasper’s simple possessions could hold clues, maybe even fingerprints.
Or maybe nothing. She had to be prepared for that.
She’d put on rubber gloves from the kitchen and was about to lift off the lid of the cardboard box when her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and glanced at the caller ID. Kyle. It appeared he hadn’t given up. She let the phone ring until voice mail came on.
“Erin, I hope you’re listening. I was a fool last night. Can you ever forgive me? I’ll be with my dad today, but I’ll call you when I get home. I love you.”
She deleted the voice mail. Kyle’s behavior last night had been the final straw. She was finished with him. Why couldn’t he just give up and move on?
Dropping the phone back into her pocket, she opened the box. Jasper’s dusty old Stetson covered everything beneath it. Erin blinked back tears as she set the hat aside. She wasn’t just looking for what was in the box, she reminded herself. What she really needed was to discover what was missing.
Jasper’s clothes and boots had been bagged by the medical examiner. The things in the box were smaller, more personal items. Her gloved fingers touched each one—the red bandanna Jasper had worn against the dust, his khaki shooting vest with shotgun shells stuck into the cotton loops, his cheap Timex watch, his belt, a few coins, a bottle of nitroglycerin pills for occasional heart pain, his empty water canteen, a pack of Wrigley’s gum, and his beat-up leather wallet.
There would be no cell phone. Jasper had refused to own one of the contraptions, as he’d called them. The same went for credit cards. Jasper hadn’t believed in them. He’d always carried cash, sometimes as much as several hundred dollars.
The pistol wasn’t in the box. And it wasn’t in the gun cabinet where Will would have put it. But the wallet would be worth checking.
She picked it up carefully. Jasper’s driver’s license and Medicare card were in the slots where he kept them. But in the compartment that held bills . . . Erin’s heart slammed. There was nothing there but a single dollar bill, which appeared to have been left behind as a joke.
So far the pistol and the cash—the first items that a thief would take—were missing. Was there anything else? It appeared not. But Erin had to be sure.
Jasper’s cigarettes and lighter weren’t here, but Erin had found them when she’d cleaned the duplex. What about his keys? The key to the ATV had been in the igniti
on, but Jasper also had his own keys to the ranch truck, the duplex, the barns and sheds, and the main house, which he kept together on a ring with a leather fob. If someone had taken those keys, every lock would have to be changed.
Panic building, she rummaged through the items one last time. Relief weakened her knees as she found the key ring, deep in the pocket of Jasper’s shooting vest with a handful of extra shells. One worry out of the way, at least.
Erin took a few minutes to box and address the old Bible for Jasper’s niece in the Hill Country. It was almost eight o’clock when she carried the two boxes outside to the station wagon. From the direction of the horse pens came the ring of Luke’s hammer as he shaped a steel shoe on his anvil. She resisted the urge to cross the yard and tell him what she’d discovered. Before she’d kissed him, that might have been an easy thing to do. But that impulsive kiss had destroyed the chance of an easy relationship between them. They’d agreed to forget it had happened. But Erin hadn’t forgotten it. Something told her that Luke hadn’t forgotten it either.
The morning was already warm, and the AC was going out on the old station wagon. As she drove to town, she opened the side windows to let the air blow through. The breeze was better than nothing, but she could feel the dust in the air like grit on her teeth.
She passed the spot where Kyle had swerved to avoid the cow the night before. She could see the black, curving skid mark on the road, the crushed weeds, and the smashed barbed wire fence. But there was no sign that an animal had been struck. At least she could be relieved for the cow.
The sheriff’s office was in a wing of the county building, adjacent to the courthouse. Sheriff Harger hadn’t come in yet, but his young deputy, Roy Porter, was at his desk. The sight of him raised Erin’s hopes for a sympathetic hearing. She and Roy had gone through school a year apart. With luck, he’d be more inclined to listen than the crusty, older sheriff.
He stood and motioned Erin to a seat opposite the desk. She remembered him as quiet and smart, but not the kind of boy who stood out. Looking at him now, she surmised that he hadn’t changed much. In his tan lawman’s uniform, with his ginger hair buzzed short, he looked like a bright-eyed, apple-cheeked Boy Scout.
Erin took her seat, setting the box on the floor next to her chair. “I have some concerns about Jasper Platt’s death,” she said, wasting no time.
“What kind of concerns?” Roy’s demeanor was all business.
“I’ve found evidence that Jasper wasn’t alone when he died. There was someone else at the scene—someone who may have murdered him.”
Roy looked skeptical. “I know what our investigation found. But go ahead. I’m listening.”
She told him about the missing gun and the almost empty wallet. And she showed him the photo she’d taken of the boot print in the sand. “We found another print, like this one, above the paddock, by the fence. And the night we found it, we saw somebody moving and heard the sound of a motorcycle going away.”
“We?”
Erin gave herself a mental slap. She should have known better than to imply she hadn’t been alone. “One of the ranch hands was with me.”
“His name, for the record?”
“Luke Maddox. He’s the new farrier we hired.” Why did giving out Luke’s name strike Erin as a bad idea? She certainly didn’t suspect him of anything criminal.
Roy jotted down some notes, then leaned back in his chair. “Here’s what we’re looking at,” he said. “What you’ve told me sounds credible as far as it goes. But the only marks on Mr. Platt’s body were those that could be attributed to the accident. Even without an autopsy, there was no sign that foul play was involved in his death.”
“But what about the evidence?” Erin argued. “Somebody was there. Otherwise you’d have found Jasper’s pistol. And I know for a fact that Jasper always carried cash in his wallet.”
“I believe you,” Roy said. “But it’s easy enough to explain. That wash is a known hangout for illegals and smugglers. Before the old man was found, somebody came along and helped himself to whatever was worth taking. If you saw that track again on the ranch, the same lowlife was probably looking for something else to steal. Case closed. If you’d like to file a report on the theft of the gun and the money—”
“No. Whoever the thief was, I’m sure they’re long gone.”
“Fine.” Roy stood and offered his hand. “Let us know if there’s any more trouble.”
With sagging spirits, Erin mailed the Bible at the post office, picked up some groceries at the supermarket, and headed back to the ranch. She’d set out to prove that Will had not been at fault in Jasper’s death. But she’d proven nothing. There was no way of knowing whether Jasper could have been found in time to save his life. As for the so-called evidence, Roy’s argument made perfect sense. There had been no murder, only theft.
At least she hadn’t voiced her suspicions to Will. Now they could be put to rest and forgotten. Her father already had enough worries on his mind.
As she parked by the house and climbed out of the car, she could hear the distant metallic ring of Luke’s hammer blows. For a moment she considered walking down to the pens and telling him what she’d learned in town. But their encounter was bound to be awkward. The news could wait. If he was curious, he could find her and ask.
She was getting the groceries out of the wagon when Rose hailed her from the front porch. “Here, let me help you.” She hurried down the steps to take one of the bags.
“Thanks. You just saved me a second trip,” Erin said.
“You’re very welcome.” Rose mounted the steps beside her. “There aren’t many ways for an old woman to make herself useful around here. The house is spotless, and your cook already shooed me out of the kitchen. But I do want to do my share while I’m with you, and I’ve never been one to sit around and read or knit.”
“Dad mentioned last night that he was going to take you to see your land,” Erin said as they set the grocery bags on the counter.
“He did, but something must’ve come up. Poor Will, I know how burdened he is. I hate bothering him about it.”
“Why don’t I take you?” Erin had seen Will’s truck headed for the pastures on the upper range, where the men would be rounding up cattle for early sale. “We could go now, if this is a good time. I’ll even throw some gloves and shovels and rakes in the back of the wagon. We can spend a little time cleaning up your grandpa’s grave.”
“Oh, thank you!” Rose’s face lit with pleasure. “Just let me get a hat. And I brought my own work gloves. I thought they might come in handy.”
“I’ll load the tools,” Erin said. “Come around to the car when you’re ready.”
* * *
Luke watched the station wagon head north along the back road, with Erin at the wheel and Rose beside her. Wherever they were going, he couldn’t help worrying about them. With a stranger prowling around the ranch, anything could happen.
But maybe his concern was old-fashioned. This was the twenty-first century. Women were tough and independent, especially those two. Erin was young, but she was quick and smart. As for Rose. . . He’d been stunned to learn that the petite woman had killed three men, the first one when she was just fourteen. But after hearing her story last night, he couldn’t doubt the truth of it.
Still . . . Luke worried as he watched the station wagon vanish in a cloud of dust. He worried too damned much, he told himself as he chose another horse to trim and shoe. Last night, after Rose had gone inside, he’d seen the black SUV pull up to the house with a crumpled front end. He’d watched Erin climb out, slam the door, and storm into the house. At least he knew she was all right. But she’d given him no chance to ask her what had happened. She hadn’t even come to tell him about her visit to the sheriff in town.
He understood the reason. She didn’t want to face him after that kiss—the kiss that had left him with a lingering ache. Luke had told himself it didn’t matter. She’d only been flirting with him, or trying out
her charms on an unsuspecting male just to see what would happen. But he couldn’t look at her, or even think about her, without wanting to crush her in his arms and pick up where they’d left off before he pushed her away.
Maybe he should just quit this job, pack up, and leave. There was always work to be had, especially before and during roundup season. But he had an ideal situation here—plenty of steady work, good people, decent quarters and food, and animals that were healthy and well cared for. He’d be a fool to leave because of an impulsive beauty who was too young to know her own mind.
I worry about her missing out on what real love can be.
Rose’s words came back to him as he watched the dust settle in the empty distance. He hoped to heaven Erin didn’t marry that entitled brat of a boyfriend. But if the kid was her choice, there was nothing more to be said.
One thing was certain, Luke told himself. He was no fit match for her tender young heart. If he were to give in to temptation, he might offer her a few thrills. But in the end, given their age difference, his rootless lifestyle, and his troubled past, he would only end up leaving her wounded and angry.
For now, the best he could do was keep his distance, control his urges, and struggle against the memory of that kiss.
But what if he was falling in love with her?
* * *
After arranging for the wrecked SUV to be picked up and repaired, Hunter Cardwell, Kyle’s father, had taken one of the ranch pickups to drive to the cattle auction in Lubbock. He drove most of the way in silence, his lips pressed into a grim line. For Kyle, seated beside him in the cab, it was like waiting for a ticking bomb to explode.
Kyle had learned the hard way not to hide the truth from his father. By now, Hunter knew how the wreck had happened. He also knew that Erin had turned down his son’s proposal. He had taken the news with surprising calm. Even the sight of the damaged SUV hadn’t set him off.
For Kyle, his father’s icy demeanor was even more ominous than a burst of anger. He knew that the blowup would come, and when it did, the consequences would be devastating. Meanwhile, all he could do was wait in slow, excruciating torment.
