He might have kissed her forever if she hadn’t released a throaty little moan. It made him want to pick her up and carry her into the house and to the nearest bedroom.
And that emotion was what shot some sense through his head. He dropped his arms to his waist and stepped back from her. “Sorry, that was a huge mistake.”
“A mistake?” Her winsome blue eyes searched his features in puzzlement. “Why was it a mistake?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets to stymie them from reaching out for her again. “I shouldn’t have kissed you because before this case is over I think you’re probably going to hate me.”
“Why would I have a reason to hate you?”
“Because I believe one of your cowboys is guilty of not only killing Sam, but also those seven young men who were found under the shed. One of them is guilty and I’m not going to stop until I prove it.”
He didn’t wait for her response, but instead turned and went out the door.
Chapter 4
Cassie was once again seated at the kitchen table the next afternoon when Dillon’s car pulled into the drive. She sat up straighter in anticipation of him coming inside, but he headed straight to the barn.
She tamped down her disappointment that he hadn’t come in to say hello. He wasn’t here to visit, she reminded herself. He had a job to do, but there was no question that his kiss had both thrilled and confused her.
That kiss. Even now just thinking about it made her toes curl. She’d spent half the night replaying it over and over again in her head. Between the kiss and his parting words she felt as if he’d caressed her heart and then slapped her upside the head.
Her phone had rung for most of the day, neighbors and friends checking in with her and wanting to know the latest on the murder investigation. She told them nothing because she knew nothing except that Dillon was convinced one of her men was a monster.
Today she couldn’t even be too mad at him for his beliefs, despite the fact that she found the idea completely ludicrous. That didn’t take away from the fact that his kiss had shaken her to her core.
It had been over two years ago since she’d had a relationship with a man. She and Mark had dated for eight months before he’d finally broken up with her. She’d been surprised to discover that she’d actually been relieved by the split.
At the time she’d been consumed with her shop, working long hours there, and when she wasn’t behind the counter she was in her studio apartment painting. She hadn’t put in the time or energy to make her relationship work.
What they had shared was basically a physical thing without any real emotional tie. At the end he’d wanted more from her, but she hadn’t been willing to take it any deeper.
She cast another glance out the window. It was time to stop sitting around and brooding and instead she went to work fixing a big pot of chili. The day had been gray and cool, perfect for chili with corn bread.
As she worked she occasionally drifted to the window to peer out. Dillon’s car was still in the drive but the only people she saw were two of her men on horseback in the distance.
Maybe he’d stay for dinner again tonight and maybe he’d kiss her again. Probably not, since he’d told her their first kiss was a mistake. It certainly hadn’t felt like a mistake to her. It had felt wonderfully right.
What did she think she was doing, wishing for another kiss from him? The last thing she wanted was a relationship that might make it even more difficult for her to make the decision to stay or leave here.
And she had to make that decision within the next few weeks. If she was going to sell the ranch and head back to New York City she wanted to do it before the first snow flew.
She jumped as a knock fell on the back door. She turned around from the stove to see Sawyer standing on the small stoop. She gestured him inside with a smile. Sawyer Quincy was one of her favorites of all the men. The tall, lean man had an easy way about him and was always quick to laugh.
“I was just on my way into town to pick up some things for Cookie and I thought I’d check in and see if you needed anything,” he said.
This wasn’t the first time Sawyer had gone out of his way to do something nice for her. “Thanks, Sawyer, but I think I’m good for now.”
“That chili definitely smells good,” he replied and gestured to the pot simmering on the stovetop.
“Thanks, it just felt like a chili kind of day.”
“Winter will be here before you know it.”
“Don’t remind me.” She picked up a large spoon and stirred the chili.
“We’ll get through winter, and we’ll get through what’s happening right now.”
She placed the spoon on a spoon rest and released a deep sigh. “How are things going today? I haven’t spoken to Dillon yet.”
Sawyer’s eyes flashed darkly. “He’s questioning all of us all over again. It’s like he’s just looking for one of us to make a mistake or something. Oh, well, I’d better get going. Cookie will pitch a fit if I don’t get back with his stuff as soon as possible.”
“Get out of here,” she replied with a laugh. “I wouldn’t want to be responsible for one of Cookie’s temper fits.” With a goodbye, he walked out the back door and Cassie returned to the counter to make the corn bread.
She wouldn’t put it past Raymond Humes to arrange for one of his men to murder one of hers just to stain the ranch reputation and make her more desperate to sell. She only hoped Dillon was questioning him and his men as hard as he was hers.
It was just after six when Dillon knocked on the back door. The kitchen smelled of the chili and corn bread, and Cassie couldn’t help the little bit of anticipation that danced in her stomach as she thought about them sharing another meal.
“I just wanted to let you know I’m heading back into town,” he said.
“How about a bowl of chili before you take off? I was just getting ready to sit down to eat and there’s plenty.”
He hesitated and his gaze held hers for a long moment. In the depths of his eyes she thought she saw a spark of something that made her breath quicken as a wave of heat shimmied through her.
He blinked and broke the eye contact with her. “Thanks for the offer, but I really should get going. I’ve got some other people I want to talk to before I call it a day.” He sidled toward the door as if eager to escape.
She tamped down her disappointment. “You’ll keep me informed if you find out anything that will solve the murder?”
“Of course,” he replied and still didn’t look at her. Instead he appeared to find the rooster in the center of the table utterly fascinating.
“Did Sam’s phone tell you anything?” she asked.
“Nothing worthwhile. So far I haven’t learned anything that would move the case forward.”
“Did you talk to Butch?”
“I did, and I believe he’s a dead end and had nothing to do with Sam’s death.” He finally looked at her once again. “I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”
“Then I’ll just say good-night,” she replied.
He nodded and went out the door.
Despite the hour an early twilight had fallen. Cassie turned on the kitchen light and ladled up a bowl of chili for herself.
If he hadn’t kissed her so thoroughly the night before she wouldn’t be feeling so disappointed that he hadn’t stayed to eat with her tonight.
The kiss had scrambled her brains and made her want more despite her reluctance to form any kind of a relationship with any man.
It wasn’t just the very hot kiss. He’d been so easy to talk to and she’d enjoyed their conversation and the laughter they’d shared the night before. She’d been intrigued by Dillon Bowie since the moment she’d met him, and eating dinner with him last night had only made her more interested in him.
Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t stayed to eat with her. The chili was overspiced and the corn bread was burnt on the bottom. Another failed attempt at cooking, she thought with chagrin.<
br />
After eating her dinner she cleaned up the kitchen and then wandered restlessly around the great room, the hours before bedtime stretching out empty and silent before her.
It was just after seven when she decided to go out to one of the small sheds and get some more of her aunt Cass’s journals that were stored there. She’d found the stash of journals several months ago and had been reading them off and on since then. She’d read all the ones she’d brought into the house and tonight seemed like a good time to read a new one.
She grabbed a jacket off a hook by the kitchen door and pulled it on, then retrieved a flashlight from beneath the kitchen sink.
The night appeared darker than usual without the benefit of any moonlight or star shine. She clicked on her flashlight and headed toward the shed in the distance.
She found it oddly comforting to see the lights shining outside the windows in the cowboy motel. They were like beacons of comfort and reminded her she wasn’t all alone on the property.
The shed was a fairly small wooden structure and inside were things her aunt had stored. Along with the journals there were boxes of old kitchen utensils, Christmas decorations and a huge box of brightly decorated ceramic Easter bunnies.
She released the padlock and pulled the door open, her flashlight beam dancing across the boxes. Thankfully, the one she wanted was on top and easy to get to.
Opening the box, she used her light to grab a handful of the journals that were on top. The shed door slammed shut behind her. She whirled around with a surprised squeal.
Had the wind suddenly picked up and blown the door closed? Impossible. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest. The door was heavy and only a tornado-like gust could have shut it.
She ran to the door and tried to open it, but there was no give. An edge of panic crawled up her throat. She used her shoulder to push against the door, but it refused to open.
Somebody had shut the door and locked her inside. Oh, God, who had done this and why? Full-blown panic grabbed her by the throat.
She dropped the journals on the floor and banged on the door with her fist. “Hello? Somebody help me! I’m in here!” She screamed the words over and over again.
All the men would be in their rooms by now, too far away to hear her cries for help. There was only one person who might hear her and that was the person who had locked her in.
She froze, her heart racing even faster. Was he standing just outside the door right now? Gloating as he heard her panicked screams? Was he going to listen to her terror and then open the door and...? A vision of Sam dead in the hay filled her mind. She nearly dropped her flashlight as an icy chill suffused her. Tears burned at her eyes, half blinding her in the semidarkness.
She banged on the door and began to scream once again in wild hopes that somebody would hear her, praying that somebody would save her. There was no point to stay silent whether the person who’d locked her in was just outside or not.
She didn’t know how long she banged and yelled before she heard a voice. “Cassie?” The faint, familiar voice drifted through the door.
“Adam? I’m in here. Please, open the door,” she cried. She heard the lock being removed, and as the door opened a sob of relief escaped her.
“What happened?” Adam asked as he reached for her. “How did you get in there?”
“I came out here to get something and the door slammed behind me and I couldn’t get out and...” She broke off as she began to cry.
“Let’s get you to the house,” Adam said.
She nodded and reached down to grab the journals. She was still weeping as Adam threw a comforting arm around her shoulder and led her toward the house.
When they got inside she collapsed on the sofa. “What were you doing outside?” she asked as her tears slowly subsided.
“I always do a check on things around the ranch in the evenings,” he replied. His eyes were dark and filled with concern. “Who did this? Why would somebody lock you in the shed?”
“I don’t know.” She bit her lower lip as tears threatened once again. “I didn’t see who did it. I didn’t see anyone around and I don’t know why anyone would want to do such a thing.”
“You need to call Dillon.” Adam sat on the sofa next to her. “There’s no way this was some kind of a freak accident. Somebody had to close the door and fasten the padlock.”
A new chill raced through her. Yes, she needed to call Dillon. She had no idea what intention the person had when they’d locked her in the shed, but there was no way it was good.
* * *
Dillon pulled up in front of his ranch house. It was the place he’d once thought would be filled with love and the sound of children laughing. He’d never dreamed he’d come home each night to a dark and lonely place.
He killed his headlights and got out of the car. He’d eaten a burger at the café and now hoped he could empty his mind enough to get a good night’s sleep. His brain had worked overtime all day. As if the murder investigation wasn’t enough, the kiss he’d shared with Cassie had intruded into his thoughts throughout the entire day.
He unlocked his front door and walked in. Minutes later he was in his recliner with a beer in hand. When he’d bought this three-bedroom, two-bath house set on ten acres of land, he’d never dreamed he’d be living here alone.
He’d made so many plans with Stacy, the girl he’d fallen in love with when they’d both been high school juniors, and he’d been utterly blindsided when she’d not only left him, but had also left Bitterroot for life in a big city. He’d heard through the grapevine that she’d moved to Chicago. He hoped she’d found whatever she’d been looking for.
Sipping his beer, he tried to remember kissing Stacy. Strange, he couldn’t remember what it felt like. Instead thoughts of kissing Cassie filled his head.
Her lips had been so hot and so wonderfully inviting. Damn the woman. He needed to keep his distance from her. He was convinced she was just another Stacy waiting to happen and he couldn’t go through that kind of thing again. He’d rather be alone than take a chance with her.
He finished his beer and got up from the chair. Now all he wanted was to shower off the Oklahoma dust and then hit the hay. He’d just entered the master bath when his phone rang.
“Chief, sorry to bother you,” Brenda Kline, the night dispatcher said.
“No problem, what’s up?”
“I just got a call from Adam Benson out at the Holiday ranch. He said something about Cassie being locked up in a shed and they need you out there.”
“On my way,” he replied. His stomach tightened as he left the house and got into his car.
Cassie locked in a shed? Had she been hurt? What in the hell was going on now? Had it just been some sort of freak accident? If that was the case then why would they call him?
He wished he’d gotten more information. It was a fifteen-minute drive from his home to the Holiday ranch. He made it in twelve.
Adam greeted him at the back door. “She’s in the great room,” he said.
She was huddled in the corner of the sofa with the same purple throw wrapped around her shoulders. Her eyes appeared positively haunted as she greeted him.
“What happened?” he asked, fighting the impulse to grab her up and pull her to his chest. She looked so small and so frightened, but he was grateful to see that she appeared physically unharmed.
“I decided to go into the shed to grab some things and while I was inside somebody shut and locked the door behind me.” Her face paled and she pulled the throw more tightly around her.
“I heard her screaming and unlocked the shed,” Adam said.
“What were you doing outside at this time of night?” Dillon stared at the ranch foreman.
“I walk around every night to make sure all the gates are locked and everything is buttoned down,” he replied. “I’m just grateful I heard her screaming, otherwise she might have been in there all night or...” His voice trailed off.
Dillon frowned. �
�Do you think this was some kind of a joke? Maybe one of the other men thought it would be funny?”
“No way,” Adam replied flatly. “There’s nothing funny about this and none of my men would have done anything to frighten Cassie.”
“Before you heard her and unlocked the door did you see anyone else around?” Dillon asked.
Adam shook his head. “No, nobody.”
“How did you happen to have a key to the shed?” Dillon was still struggling to figure out the how and why of what had happened.
“As the foreman, I have keys to all the ranch outbuildings.” Adam pulled a key ring out of his pocket with dozens of keys.
“Dillon, Adam isn’t the bad guy here,” Cassie said softly. “He’s the one who let me out, not the one who locked me in.”
“Maybe one of the men from the ranch next door is responsible,” Adam said, his disgust obvious in his voice. “We all know Raymond Humes’s men love to cause trouble. One of those creeps was probably skulking around and thought this would be a funny thing to do. It sounds like their sick sense of humor.”
Dillon had to admit that it did sound like something one of those men would do. Still, he had a bad feeling in the pit of his gut. “I’ll take it from here,” he told Adam. “Could you gather up all the men in the dining room?”
“Of course.” Adam gazed at Cassie, a frown etched across his forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked her.
“I’m fine. Thank you, Adam.”
“I’m just glad I was at the right place at the right time. I’ll see you in the morning.” With a nod at Dillon, Adam went out the back door.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dillon asked. He eased down on the sofa next to her. “You weren’t hurt?”
“I’m not hurt, but I’m not really okay. I keep wondering what would have happened if Adam hadn’t shown up when he did.” She pulled the throw more tightly around her.
Stay professional, Dillon told himself. Don’t let your emotions get involved. Still, it was damned difficult to stay emotionally removed from her when her eyes seemed to need some sort of reassurance and she leaned toward him as if desperate for his arms around her.
Killer Cowboy (Cowboys of Holiday Ranch) Page 5
