Lawless

by Diana Palmer

  “Lucky Judd.”

  She studied the hard face across from her. “You’ve killed men.”

  His whole body stiffened. He didn’t look at her.

  She wanted to say something else, something comforting. But he looked like stone. She moved restlessly, embarrassed at having said something so blatantly personal.

  Her eyes turned to the landscape passing by. “Hob doesn’t have any family.”

  “The county will take care of the funeral expense, I’m sure,” he said after a minute. “He’ll get a decent burial, at least.”

  “Poor old man. He didn’t have anything much. Do you really think somebody would kill him just because he saw them cut a fence?”

  “I don’t know. But no matter what, at least he died quick. He didn’t linger.”

  She sighed. “I hope so. I really do.”

  * * *

  Judd stopped by the house on his way back to Victoria. Christabel was in the kitchen with Maude, smiling and helping with bread and pie-making.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. “No need to worry about me.”

  He hesitated, his black eyes narrowed on her face. She was still a little pale. “When did you last see Hob?”

  “About a week ago,” she said, and then remembered why she couldn’t tell him what was discussed on Hob’s front porch.

  “Was he well?”

  “Just like always,” she said, glaring at Maude, who was about to say something. “I even told Maude that he looked better than ever, didn’t I, Maude?” she added pointedly.

  Maude grimaced. “Yes, you did. Poor old fellow. He was a kind soul.”

  “If you’re okay, I’ll get back to work,” he told Christabel. “You still look shaken.”

  She managed a smile for him. “That would shake anybody.”

  “Probably so. Stay close to the house for a while. Let Nick and the boys do the outriding.”

  “Whatever you say, Judd,” she agreed pleasantly.

  He gave her a long stare. “I mean it.” His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Promise me,” he added deliberately.

  She thought for a minute. “I promise I’ll stay close to the house.”

  “All right.”

  He gave her a last look, nodded to Maude, and went out the back door.

  “Liar,” Maude grumbled at her.

  “Some of the fence lines are close to the house,” she replied. “Besides, I’ll have to help Nick and the boys check for other breaks. We’re shorthanded since Larry quit and Bobby went back to school part time. I’ll tell Cash,” she promised.

  “If Judd finds out...” Maude groaned.

  * * *

  Two days later, Crissy rode to the pasture where they’d put one of four remaining young Hereford bulls. They’d split them up, hoping it would deter any more poisoning. She carried the borrowed rifle again, and Cash’s cell phone in a holder on her belt. He’d made her take it, and told Nick to stay close to her around the ranch. Nick couldn’t do any more with her than Cash did. And this time, she almost paid the price.

  Just as she rode past a huge oak tree near the fence, a man stepped out into her path.

  She had good reaction speeds. By the time he was in position, she had the rifle out of the sheath and cocked. She didn’t point it at him, but it lay across her blue-jeaned legs and her eyes told him that she’d shoot, given the least provocation.

  “You gonna shoot me, boss lady?” Jack Clark drawled, eyes narrow as he stared up at her from the dirt path.

  “The second you make a move toward me,” she nodded, and she didn’t blink.

  “I saw you coming this way from the road,” he said, nodding toward the highway which was only a few hundred feet away. “I want you to stop spreading rumors about me in Jacobsville,” he added in a cold tone. “I didn’t steal anything from you. I bought a pair of boots because I tore one of mine up when I was haying with that old tractor you use. You owed me those boots!”

  “And if you’d come to us and asked, we’d have replaced them,” she replied, feeling scared and sick but determined not to let it show. Her hand tightened on the rifle. “You didn’t. You bought the most expensive pair you could find and had them charged to the ranch.”

  “No cause to fire a man without giving him a hearing.” He was giving her a look that chilled her blood. It was the same look he’d given her when he’d worked, briefly, for her and Judd until he was let go in early September. He liked women, but none of them would give him the time of day. He had bad teeth, and an ugly attitude—not to mention a vulgar way of talking to women. He was a homely man, with sharp features and thinning hair, lean and mean-looking. His clothes were always rumpled, and his hair looked as if it was never washed. He was the most repulsive person she’d ever seen. He was wearing a flannel shirt in putrid shades of black and green and yellow that looked almost as repulsive as he did.

  “You had your say,” she said flatly. She shifted the gun, pressed Cash’s prekeyed number into the cell phone and stared down at him with cold deliberation. “You’re trespassing. I want you off my land. Now. I’ve just put the assistant police chief’s number into this phone. I only have to press a button and he’ll know where I am and why I called.”

  He hesitated, measuring the distance between them. Even if she could send that number, response wouldn’t come at once. At his sides, his fists clenched and he began to smile speculatively. He took a quick step forward.

  In that split second, Crissy had the rifle shouldered and was looking down the barrel. “Safety’s off,” she said calmly. “Your move.”

  He’d stopped short when she put the rifle up. Now he hesitated again, as if measuring that distance a second time and weighing how quickly she could fire. But one look at her eyes told him what she’d do if he moved again.

  His threatening stance shifted. “No call to try and shoot a man for asking a civil question!” he said angrily.

  “My arm’s getting tired,” she said pointedly.

  He cursed, a sharp vulgar word that was accompanied by the most disgusting leer she’d ever seen. “It wouldn’t be worth it, at that. You’re more boy than girl, even if you are blonde. I’d rather have something pretty!”

  “You’d be lucky!” she muttered.

  “I had me a pretty, blonde woman once!” he shot back, and then flushed. He turned on his heel and stomped back through the wooded area toward the highway.

  “You’ll pay, you little bitch!” he yelled back at her. “You’ll pay good! I’ll make you sorry you ever opened your mouth!”

  Her hands were shaking as she put the safety on the rifle. She heard an engine rev up and she caught a glimpse of a battered old tan pickup truck as Clark drove past the path she was riding, laying down on his horn belligerently as he sped away. Definitely not a black truck with a red stripe, either, she noted.

  She let out the breath she’d been holding. She put the rifle away and rode quickly back to the house. She wasn’t surprised to find her heart beating in her throat like a drum.

  She wanted to ask Maude for advice. It had been a scary few minutes, and she wasn’t sure what to do next.

  But Maude wasn’t home when she got there. She made herself a cup of coffee and decided that this time she couldn’t handle things alone. She unfastened Cash’s cell phone from her belt. She pressed in the number of Cash’s office and when it didn’t ring, realized that she’d forgotten to push the send button. She pressed it, angrily, and waited for someone to answer.

  Cash picked it up himself.

  “Cash, could you come out here for a few minutes?” she asked in a ghostly tone.

  “Are you all right?” he asked at once.

  “Yes. Jack Clark was here. I had to threaten to shoot him.”

  There was a hesitation. “I know,” he sai
d after a minute. “He’s here in my office, filing a complaint. He says you pulled a gun on him with no provocation. He wants you arrested.”

  8

  Crissy didn’t know what to say, what to do. She had visions of being arrested and locked up. Wouldn’t that make Jack Clark’s day, she mused unhappily.

  She drew in a steadying breath. “Do you want me to drive into town and turn myself in?” she asked, only half joking.

  Cash’s voice was cold. “I do not. I’ll handle this. See you in a few minutes.”

  He hung up. Crissy looked around her at the mess of equipment the film crew had left in place for their return, and she felt hopeless. Judd was going to be absorbed by the famous model. The ranch was going to go under from lack of operating capital and breeding bulls. She was going to prison. She laughed almost hysterically and wondered if she could sell her own story to the producer. It would make a much more exciting movie than his romantic comedy.

  * * *

  Cash looked smug when he walked into the living room. He was in uniform, handsome and completely unaffected by Clark’s visit.

  Crissy, on the other hand, was worried and pale. “Do you want to handcuff me?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “No, I want coffee.”

  She went into the kitchen, leaving him to follow. “I’m not under arrest?”

  “No.” He sat down, waiting for her to pour coffee into two mugs. “Have you forgotten? You’re four miles out of town. I don’t have jurisdiction here. Clark knows it, too. He only wanted to shake you up, and he knew that you and I were friends.”

  “He won’t let it drop,” she said worriedly as she sat down beside him.

  He caught her cold fingers in his. “I told him that any woman alone, faced with a threatening man, had the right to defend herself. Besides that, he was trespassing on private land, without permission. He was in the wrong. He didn’t push his luck.”

  She sighed her relief. “I’ll bet he didn’t like that.”

  He studied her face quietly. “You’re really frightened of him.”

  She nodded. “He’s vulgar and offensive. He made blatant passes at me when he was working here.”

  “Did you tell Judd?”

  She turned her mug in her hands. “It was too much like carrying tales,” she said. “I thought I could handle it. I told Clark I didn’t like suggestive remarks, and that he’d lose his job if he kept it up.”

  “Did it work?”

  “I don’t know, because that was just before he charged those expensive boots and we fired him.”

  “He has a record.”

  She stared at him. “What sort?”

  “Sexual assault and battery on a very young teenage girl, when he was in his early twenties,” he replied. “The girl almost died of her injuries. She reported him to the police and testified against him. He served six years.”

  “What happened to the girl?” she asked curiously.

  “Her family changed their name and moved away. Nobody knows where they went.”

  “What about his brother, John?” she wanted to know.

  “John never did anything that got him convicted. He was accused of poisoning livestock a time or two, but there’s no record that he ever hurt a human being. Since Jack got out of prison, there have been accusations but no arrests, for either of them.”

  Crissy felt chills go down her spine. Her hands were icy around the hot mug.

  “Did Judd ever get you that handgun?”

  She blinked. Her mind was elsewhere. “He brought it down and left it with Maude.”

  “Get it. A pistol is a much better close-range weapon than a rifle.”

  She took the case it was in from under the kitchen sink and put it on the table.

  His eyebrows lifted.

  “Well, it isn’t exactly the first place a thief would look for a gun,” she defended herself.

  He chuckled. He opened the case and took out the revolver. It was shaped like an old-time .45 colt, but it shot .22 caliber long rifle bullets. There was a box of shells in the case with the pistol.

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  “Where?” she asked, standing up.

  “To the firing range. By the end of the day, you’ll know how to handle this pistol, and I’ll feel better about having you and Maude out here alone.”

  “I’ll go, but we won’t be very much alone after Sunday. The movie people are coming back,” she said on a sigh.

  “I’ll be glad to have them here,” he replied solemnly. “Clark’s not likely to come after you with a crowd of people on hand.”

  “I hope not.” She followed him out to the front porch. “Are you going to tell Judd?”

  “I have to,” he said curtly.

  “But...”

  He turned, his dark eyes quiet and worried. “The state crime lab had a preliminary report on Hob Downey. He was hit in the throat with a hard object, probably the tire tool we found near him.”

  She felt the blood draining out of her face. “I can’t believe Hob was killed just because of what he saw when my fence was cut.”

  He helped her into the passenger side of the truck. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “How about Jack Clark?” she pressed. “He’s the most likely suspect, isn’t he?”

  “He is. But he has an ironclad alibi for Downey’s approximate time of death. In fact, he has an ironclad alibi for the entire day.”

  She waited.

  He got in and fastened his seat belt. “He was with a well-known local resident of Victoria, a city councilwoman.”

  “Is she a reliable witness?”

  “She is, unfortunately. She told investigators that Clark came by her office and invited her to lunch. He said he wanted to talk to her about buying some land—she’s in real estate. She took him to two different properties. It’s curious, but it isn’t illegal. So Jack Clark’s not a suspect,” he said heavily. “But don’t worry. We’ll find whoever killed old Hob.”

  “How about his brother, John?” she asked. “Does he have an alibi?”

  “He was with a co-worker on that Victoria ranch where he works.”

  “I can’t believe Clark tried to have me arrested,” she said, rubbing her arms.

  “You need a sweater,” he pointed out, noting her long-sleeved chambray shirt over a T-shirt.

  “I’m not cold. It’s thinking of what might have happened if I hadn’t had the rifle.”

  “I’m going to teach you to shoot a pistol today,” he said, turning onto the highway. “It will be easier to use on a potential attacker than something as long as a rifle, that he could grab away from you. That takes care of the short term. But we still have to tell Judd about what’s been going on.”

  “Why?” she asked worriedly. “The film crew will be here. You said yourself that nothing will happen with so many people around.”

  He glanced at her. “Judd has a right to know.”

  “I’m not telling him,” she said stubbornly. “And that’s that.”

  He didn’t answer her. They went to the police firing range and she spent two hours pulling a trigger. She seemed to be a natural with a pistol. She was able to put all her shots within the approximate size of a man’s torso. But the thought of actually shooting a human being made her sick at her stomach.

  “That’s why you’re learning to shoot properly,” Cash told her. “Then you can place your shots.”

  “What if I miss?”

  He turned to her. “What if you don’t shoot at all?”

  She thought of Clark and the way he’d looked at her, the things he’d said to her. She swallowed her pride. “Okay. Let’s try that again.”

  Her hands were sore when they finished, but she felt more confident. Cash prom
ised to take her out at least once a week to the range and keep up her practice. She forgot that he hadn’t promised not to tell Judd what was going on.

  * * *

  The film crew came back and chaos became normal again. Judd walked up behind her just as she was getting out of her truck after class one afternoon. He wasn’t smiling, and his black eyes were homicidal.

  She stared at him with resignation. “Cash told you.”

  “He told me. Something you should have done, long ago!” he gritted. “This ranch is half mine. I have a right to know if it’s in danger—if you’re in danger!”

  “I’m not. I can shoot a gun...”

  “Clark was right here on the property and you didn’t know it until he stepped out in front of you,” he interrupted furiously. “What if he’d had a gun, too?”

  “He didn’t.”

  “That’s beside the point. You should have told me!”

  “You wouldn’t have believed me!” she raged back. Her dark eyes were blazing now, too, her blond hair in disarray from the wind. “You wouldn’t believe me when I told you the bull had been poisoned. You said I was jealous of the attention you were giving the film crew! And you’d really have a reason to accuse me of lying now, you could say I was jealous of your fancy model!”

  He drew in a slow breath. “I’d have believed a blood analysis done by a veterinarian,” he said.

  “Sure, as long as you weren’t expected to believe anything I told you!”

  “Cash knew everything.” He made it sound like an accusation.

  “Yes, he did. He isn’t panting over Tippy Moore, and he’d take my word any day, for anything!” she added with pure venom.

  His eyes narrowed dangerously and he stiffened. “Tippy is not your business. She has nothing to do with the ranch.”

  She wanted to ask him if he was sure about that, when he was spending money he didn’t have to buy her expensive jewelry. But she didn’t.

  She gave him a hard glare before she turned away. “Clark won’t sneak up on me again.”

  “That isn’t good enough. Maude isn’t always here, and you’ll be away from the ranch for a time every day going to school.”