Peril on the Ranch

by Lynette Eason

  When he arrived at the spot, he stopped and scoured the area. A piece of fabric on a branch captured his attention. He pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a picture. It sure looked like the color of the hoodie the guy had on. He’d leave it there and let the officers know to retrieve it.

  Further inspection finally paid off and he found a partial boot print that didn’t belong to him. He took another picture. A few steps later, he knelt and gave a grunt of satisfaction. “That will help.” The guy had rolled the bike a few short steps before climbing on and roaring away. That meant the tire print was nice and clean. He added that picture to the other two.

  A rustle to his left stilled him. The wind was blowing, but that wasn’t a “wind” sound. “Anyone there?”

  The snap of a branch, the huff of a breath.

  “Hey!” Mac automatically reached for the weapon he didn’t carry anymore and dropped his hand. He walked toward the noises, then hesitated. Could be a bear. They were popular in this area. Bear or two-legged creature with a weapon? He wasn’t crazy about facing either while he was unarmed.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  Mac spun, heart racing. He pressed a hand to his chest and choked out a short laugh at the sight of Officer Regina Jacobson. “Way to scare a guy to death. I’m looking for evidence.” Had it been her he’d heard? But the noises had come from the other side of him. And it was quite possible he was still on edge from this morning and the noises were nothing to be alarmed about. “Hold on a second.” He pushed through the bushes and trees to see what the noise could have been—and startled a deer. The buck ran off and Mac shook his head. He returned to Regina. “What are you doing?”

  “The same as you. I got to thinking we should have at least checked the place over, so I came back to do it. Cody told me where to find you.”

  “Right. Well, since you’re here, I don’t suppose you have any evidence bags on you.”

  “I do.” She pulled one out of her pocket. “One thing I’ve learned being a small-town cop—always be prepared and up to date on everything just like the bigger departments.”

  “You take a lot of continuing ed classes?”

  “Oh, yeah. The sheriff is on top of all the latest crime-fighting stuff and insists his officers do the same.”

  That made him feel a lot better. Mac directed her to the scrap of material. “I think it matches the hoodie he had on.”

  “If we find him and the hoodie, guess we can know for sure.”

  “There’s a partial boot print and a really good tire print you could get a mold of.”

  “I have the stuff in my cruiser. I’ll do that.” She hesitated. “You realize this is a long shot.”

  “Of course.” He shrugged. “But I’ve always found having the evidence is better than not.”

  “You were in law enforcement.” It wasn’t a question. She replaced her black gloves with evidence collection ones before gathering and tucking the piece of cloth into the bag.

  He shot her a tight smile. “A few years ago.”

  “Why’d you get out?”

  “For various reasons.” He had no intention of sharing his past with someone he’d just met. Not even if she was a cop. “You’ve known Isabelle for a long time,” he said.

  She nodded. “We went to school together. She stole my Jello in first grade, and I punched her in the eye. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

  He laughed. “That’s a great story. Glad to see you two worked out your differences.”

  She smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

  Mac rubbed a hand over his forehead and considered whether to call Isabelle and let her know what he’d found. Then decided against it. No need to distract her or remind her of the incident while she was out shopping. That wasn’t his job or his place. He’d let Regina fill her in.

  But he couldn’t help hoping the evidence would lead to a quick apprehension, because his gut kept sending warning signals that there was more to come with the man who’d been here earlier.

  And it wasn’t going to be good.

  THREE

  Isabelle had picked up Lilly from Cheryl, who reported that the doctor had given the infant a clean bill of health. Now she pushed her full grocery buggy to the checkout line and sent up a prayer Lilly’s congenial temperament would last just a little while longer. But the baby had already started fussing. “Hang on, sweetie. I’m almost done, I promise. Then we’ll get you home for a bottle and a nap. Okay?”

  Her first stop had resulted in some cute outfits for Lilly, a couple of toys, and a baby swing for half price. It had been a while since she’d had an infant placed in her care—well over a year—but most of what she needed was at the house. Unfortunately, her second stop for the security cameras had been a bust, but they were now on order and should arrive two days from now.

  Movement to her left distracted her once more and she turned to see a young man wearing a hoodie duck his head and grab a bag of chips from the end cap. Did he have a goatee? She thought she might have seen a flash of one but wasn’t positive. A chill skated up her spine. Was that the guy who’d tried to break into her house this morning?

  She looked away while her heart pounded. Should she confront him? With one hand on the baby’s foot, Isabelle looked back.

  He was gone.

  A low breath escaped her. She was just paranoid. It was cold. A lot of people wore hoodies this time of year and baseball caps were year-round head attire. She glanced at other shoppers and spotted several people wearing them. The person in front of her finished paying and pushed her buggy toward the exit.

  While Isabelle unloaded the items from her own cart onto the belt, she scanned the store once more.

  And saw him again. This time in the checkout line three rows down. She curled her fingers around her phone.

  “Isabelle? Is that you?”

  Isabelle jerked her gaze to the woman in line behind her. “Oh, Valerie. Hey, how are you doing?” Valerie Lovett. Valerie’s husband, Travis, and Isabelle’s late husband, Josiah, had been best friends before Josiah was killed in a motorcycle accident two years ago.

  The woman shrugged. “I’m fine.” She nodded to the baby. “I see you have a new addition to your team.”

  “This is Lilly. She arrived this morning.”

  “She’s a cutie.” Valerie shook her head. “I sure do admire you. As much as I love them, I don’t want any more. I can’t wait to send my two off to school each morning.”

  “But you’re glad to see them when they come home.”

  “Well, yes. That fact does make me feel less of a bad mother.”

  “You’re a wonderful mom—and Realtor. Sell any houses lately?” Valerie and Travis owned one of the top real estate companies based in Timber Creek.

  She laughed. “Not today, but I’ve got a few things in the works, so hopefully sometime next week, I’ll see a sale. Travis had a good one a few days ago and said he has a surprise for me.”

  “What kind of surprise?”

  “I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “Who knows with him? I hope it’s not something expensive.”

  “He does like his toys, doesn’t he?”

  Valerie scowled. “He does. And he spends way too much on them.” She sighed. “Then again, I knew that when I married him, so I guess I can’t whine about it.”

  “Very true, my friend.” Isabelle smiled and spotted a family she didn’t know. “Seems like more and more people move here every month.”

  “Can you blame them? This is a gorgeous town.” Valerie wiggled her brows. “And I’m not complaining about the influx—or the rising property values.”

  Isabelle smiled. “I’m grateful the land I have was a wedding gift from my parents. I’d never be able to afford that place otherwise.”

  “The JoBelle Ranch was their dream as much as yours and you k
now it.”

  “I do.” Lilly let out a low cry and Isabelle pulled a stuffed toy from her bag and passed it to the baby. Lilly took it and stuffed it in her mouth.

  “Speaking of your parents,” Valerie said, “how’s your mother doing since her fall?”

  Isabelle grimaced. “I haven’t talked to her today, but it’s on my list. Yesterday, Dad said he had his work cut out for himself keeping Mom in bed.” Her mother had been helping her father with a horse when she’d stepped wrong and gone down, breaking her hip and foot in the process. Her dad, who’d taken over a lot of the ranch duties after Josiah was killed, had been suddenly thrust into the role of full-time caregiver.

  Hence the need for her to hire Mac. The thought of the handsome newcomer almost made her smile. Almost.

  “...need anything, please let me know.”

  Isabelle blinked. She’d zoned out for a moment, but caught most of what Valerie had said. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

  “Ma’am, do you want help with your groceries?”

  “Yes, please.” Having the bagger escort her to the van wasn’t something she was going to turn down. She glanced around, looking for the man that had shaken her nerves. When she didn’t see him, she wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or more worried. Isabelle waved to her friend and followed the young teen who pushed the cart. Lilly seemed to like the view of the new face and babbled at him.

  He babbled back, and just like that, Lilly was smitten. Isabelle laughed. “You must have younger brothers or sisters,” Isabelle said.

  “Three. My youngest sister just turned two.”

  “Well, you’ve definitely got a way with little ones.”

  While the two of them carried on their conversation, Isabelle kept an eye on the surroundings. She didn’t see anyone that raised the hair on her neck—or the young man from the grocery store—but the parking lot was crowded, and she couldn’t see into every vehicle. The good thing was, she didn’t see any motorcycles in the lot.

  While the grocery worker loaded the items into the back of the van, she made sure Lilly was safely strapped into what was now her spot in the van.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” the teen said. “Bye, Lilly, come back soon.”

  He waved and jogged back toward the store while Isabelle climbed into the driver’s seat and locked the doors. With one last look around, she cranked the van and made her way out of the lot.

  When no one followed, she breathed a low sigh of relief and headed home. Shortly into the fifteen-minute drive, Lilly decided she was done. Her wails lifted from the back, tuning up like a tornado siren. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I tried to hurry, but I guess I wasn’t fast enough. We’ll be home soon.”

  The cries grew louder, and while Isabelle knew the child was perfectly safe strapped in her seat, the infant’s unhappiness broke her heart. She remembered the note and turned on the radio to a soothing jazz station. For a moment, it had no effect on the sobs, but then the shrieks slowed, and finally morphed into hiccups.

  “Okay,” she whispered, “thank you, baby’s mommy, for the note.”

  The steering wheel pulled to the right. She spun it back. And then a low thump, thump, thump finally penetrated her rattled brain and she realized she had a flat. “Oh, seriously? Now? I just had these tires put on last month.” She wasn’t sure who she was talking to, but saying the words out loud helped her keep it together. And then Lilly let out more demanding wails. Isabelle raked a hand over her head. “Great. Just fabulous.”

  She maneuvered the van over to the side of the road and put it in Park. The thought of changing the tire completely deflated her. She smirked at her unintentional pun but couldn’t quite work up to a laugh. Instead, she groaned. “I do not want to deal with this.” Josiah had made sure she knew how to do it; she just didn’t want to have to do it and try to take care of Lilly at the same time.

  Part of the reason the baby was cranky was because it was time for her to eat again. Isabelle had pushed too hard in her effort to wait until they got home to feed her. “Okay, baby, I’ll feed you, and hopefully, you’ll go to sleep and I can change the tire while you sleep.”

  Or she could just call her dad to come help. But then he’d have to leave her mother. Or she could call Cody Ray. She glanced at the time and winced. The bus with the kids would be arriving any minute now. She drew in a deep breath. She could do this.

  She grabbed her phone and stepped out of the van, the baby’s cries echoing in her ears. She opened the side door, quickly mixed the formula in the bottle of water and shook it. “Okay, sweetie, here you go.” Lilly latched on as though she was starving and went to work on making the formula disappear.

  Isabelle called Cody Ray and got his voice mail. “All righty, then. Let’s try Mac.”

  He answered on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “It’s Isabelle.”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Oh, just peachy.” She filled him in. “I’m going to be a little later than I planned. Could you make sure Cody Ray meets the school bus and gets the kids settled? He knows the routine. It’s going to take me at least thirty minutes to get this tire changed.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “No, Mac, it’s fine. I can—”

  “Hey, Cody Ray! Can you meet the kids at the bus? I need to go help Isabelle.”

  Cody Ray’s affirmative response reached her. “Mac—” The slamming of the truck door told her protesting was futile. “Okay, thanks. We’ll be right here. I’ll just share my location with you and you should be able to drive straight here.” She tapped the screen to navigate to the place where she could send him her location just as the roar of a motorcycle heading her way sent shivers crawling up her spine. “Oh, no.”

  “Isabelle?”

  Okay, she knew there was more than one motorcycle in the town of Timber Creek, but...

  The bike drew closer and Isabelle slammed the van’s side door, climbed into the driver’s seat and hit the locks.

  “Isabelle? Talk to me. What’s going on?” Mac’s worried voice came through the line.

  “I think the guy on the motorcycle is back.”

  * * *

  Isabelle’s shaky statement echoed in his mind. “I’m seven minutes away,” Mac said. “Where is he?”

  “Coming up behind us. I may just be paranoid, but I don’t want to take any chances. I’ve locked us in the van.”

  “Of course.”

  “He’s probably going to go right past us.”

  “Let’s hope so. Do you have a gun?”

  “At home, locked in the gun safe.”

  Now Mac could hear the engine of the bike approaching. And slowing. “Isabelle?”

  “He’s not going past, Mac. He’s stopping.”

  “Do you have any kind of weapon in your car?”

  Her breathing came quickly over the line. “No.” A slight pause. “Wait. I have a baseball bat.”

  “Then get it and be prepared to use it. If he keeps his helmet on, go for his stomach or the knees. Or whatever you can hit. Can you do that?”

  Her hesitation worried him. “Yes,” she finally said. “I could do it to protect Lilly or one of the kids. He’s not going to hurt her if I can help it.”

  The steel in her voice told him everything he needed to know. “Tell me what he’s doing now. I’m four minutes away.”

  “He’s just sitting there.”

  “Sounds like he’s trying to decide what to do. Be prepared for him to do anything, okay?”

  She went silent.

  “Keep talking to me, Isabelle. I don’t like not hearing your voice.”

  “You mean you can’t hear my heart beating hard enough to jackhammer concrete?”

  Her breathless joke tightened his throat for some reason. “Yeah. And that’s completely normal.”

  “He’s walk
ing behind his bike and opening something. Mac, what if he’s getting a gun? Bullets go through glass.”

  He was aware.

  He heard her start the van engine. “I’m going to have to try to drive on this flat tire.”

  “Do what you have to do. I’m getting closer. Anyone else on the road?”

  “No, just me for now, but I’m worried about someone else coming along. This guy could do anything.” She paused. “He’s walking this way and he’s carrying something. I think it’s a hammer.”

  “Stop!” Mac heard the yelled order from a voice he didn’t recognize and figured Isabelle had pressed the gas.

  “What do you want?” Isabelle cried.

  Mac gripped the wheel and accelerated as much as he dared. He couldn’t go much faster on the winding road without risking going over the edge.

  “He’s chasing me! I have two flat tires, Mac. I can’t get away from him!”

  The sound of breaking glass reached him, and Isabelle’s scream sent terror racing through his veins.

  FOUR

  Isabelle had ducked when she’d seen him lift the hammer, but he’d released it quickly, sending it through the window and clipping her forehead. A shriek had escaped her when the hammer landed in the passenger seat. Pain radiated through her skull and her foot slipped from the gas pedal. The phone tumbled to the floorboard. “Oh, God, please protect us. Please.”

  Blood from the wound blinded her for a moment before she swiped a hand across her left eye and tried to keep watch on her attacker.

  Lightheaded and nauseous, tension threaded through her while her adrenaline flowed. The motorcycle rider loped toward her, his outstretched hand grasping the door handle and yanking. His yell at finding the door locked pulled Isabelle from her shock and she slammed her foot on the gas.

  His hand slipped and he fell back with a howl of frustration and anger. The van lurched and she fought with the wheel to keep it on the road. The cold wind whipped in through the broken driver’s window, slapping her ponytail around her aching head.