PICKED OFF

by Linda Lovely

  Then I saw them. Gunter and Vince had new wheels. They weren’t driving their former Aces-funded rental car. But they’d clearly ignored Sala’s order to vacate Ardon County. Or had she lied about that? We only had Sala’s word she fired them, that she knew nothing about their B&E.

  Where was Carol? My heartbeat, which had started to slow, ratcheted up, approaching the hammering pace that warned me to slow down when I’d been running flat-out.

  The men thundered up the stairs onto our cabin’s front porch.

  Get the shotgun, Carol. I yelled the warning in my head. The dogs must have alerted Carol. Keep quiet. I knew where our intruders were. They hadn’t a clue where I was. The element of surprise was my only advantage.

  Did Carol have Eva’s shotgun? She’d told us her pistol remained locked in her impounded Cadillac’s glove box.

  Just as Gunter and Vince launched themselves inside our living room, guns drawn, I spotted Carol slipping outside the retail cabin. Unfortunately she wasn’t toting a shotgun.

  How long before they found Carol—and me? Were they here to kidnap or kill? I feared abduction wasn’t today’s goal.

  I waved my arms to catch Carol’s attention and pointed toward the wooded paddock where Hank and Rita were corralled. The closest spot to meet up. Its trees, though hardly old-growth forest, offered some cover.

  It took under two minutes to cover the space separating us. I opened the paddock gate and we sprinted through. Carol’s breath was ragged when she fell into my arms. Hank whinnied at the unexpected invasion and trotted to the farthest corner of the paddock. In contrast, Rita seemed curious. She stared at us, ears twitching, tail swishing. Maybe she was considering a breakout through the open gate.

  Could we ride Rita to safety? Would we lose them in the state forest?

  Impossible for the killers to follow us in a vehicle, and even with two of us on Rita’s back, they’d lose a footrace with our mule.

  But would Rita cooperate? My past experiences suggested the notion was daft. The odds stacked heavily against the mule’s aid.

  The mule and I were now on slightly friendlier terms, but friendly enough for Carol and me to mount her bareback?

  “Carol,” I whispered, “do you ride? Our best bet is to ride Rita and go for help. If we ride into state forestland, they can’t follow us in their van. The few paths aren’t wide enough. They’d have to come after us on foot.”

  Carol’s eyes grew wide as she gave Rita a once-over. “Haven’t ridden in years and never bareback. Even Lilly described Rita as a stubborn pill. Maybe we should just hide here or try to outrun them on foot.”

  Wouldn’t work. A couple of our Great Pyrenees had decided we weren’t paying attention. They’d trotted over to the paddock fence to deliver their intruder alert message up close and personal.

  I shook my head, and tried to shoo them away.

  “Those big lugs are trying to protect us, but they’re bound to give our position. We can’t stay here, and I don’t think we can outrun bullets on foot.”

  I eyed Rita. She looked as if she’d been listening. If I could only believe she understood. Unfortunately, I wasn’t convinced the half-ton mule would be heartbroken if I disappeared. Would she let two of us climb on?

  “Easy girl,” I whispered. “You’re the most beautiful mule in the world.” I pulled her head into a hug, rubbing her face. “You’re so good. What a sweet girl.”

  Scratching under her chin, I slowly backed up, gently luring her over to an old stump. “Now you’re going to let me mount you, and then stand still while Carol gets on, aren’t you?”

  I leapt up, draped myself across the mule like a sack of potatoes, and pivoted on my belly until I could push myself upright. My performance was as far from graceful as it could be without actually suffering some broken bones.

  Given that I’d shown style didn’t matter, I expected Carol to follow my lead and struggle on board. I looked down. Though Carol’s eyes were wide with fear, she seemed stumped.

  “Take my hand,” I coached. “You can do it. I’ll help pull you up.”

  Carol fastened on to my hand with an iron grip. “Come on, jump,” I urged.

  She flung herself at Rita. Carol’s desperate hold on my hand nearly pulled us both to the ground. She grunted and squirmed. I held on to Rita’s mane and clamped my knees into her side to stay upright

  “I’m on,” Carol said as she wrapped her arms around my waist. A second later I felt her hot breath on my neck.

  Hard to believe Rita had stood patiently through our antics. All I could figure was that she sensed our panic and actually wanted to help.

  A loud crash startled me as Gunter and Vince burst through the cabin’s back door. The ruckus startled Rita, too. She may not have understood their obscenities, but their angry tones were clear. The mule spun left to face the noisemakers, causing Carol and me to slither right. After I stared at the ground for what felt like minutes, knowing my lips were about to kiss dirt, I hugged the mule’s neck and pulled us both upright.

  The henchmen seemed unconcerned we might hear them. No attempt at stealth. They must have known Carol and I were alone.

  Now came the tricky part. We had a fair piece of open ground to negotiate before we reached state forest. That would give our shooters—of unknown marksmanship—better odds of nailing us than skeet shooters had of downing moving targets. A half-ton mule and two adult women were a thousand times bigger targets than clay pigeons.

  Still, we had a decent chance if we surprised them. We needed Rita to run like a Porsche, zero to sixty in four seconds.

  “Carol, hold on tight and stay low. When I count to three, we’ll kick Rita. Grip as hard as you can with your knees. I’ll try to guide her with her mane and leg pressure.”

  “And I thought running for governor was crazy,” Carol grumbled. “Okay. Count when you’re ready.”

  I took a deep breath, tightened my grip on Rita’s mane, and squeezed hard with my knees. “One…two…three.”

  I kicked with all my might and heard the thump as Carol did the same. My running shoes and Carol’s tennis shoes didn’t impress Rita a bit. She simply turned her head so one big eye looked at us. I sensed she was tempted to nip the nearest piece of human flesh. My leg was a convenient target. We were annoying the mule big time.

  When another angry shout erupted, Rita’s head and ears pivoted back toward the commotion. Apparently the barking dogs and yelling men irritated her more.

  Rita had never been big on menfolk. Billy had a heck of a time shoeing her. Andy was the only male she tolerated. Of course, Gunter and Vince didn’t know that. While they had yet to locate us, they yelled as they strutted in our direction.

  If Aunt Eva was right about Rita sensing she frightened me, I hoped the men’s aggressive movements and loud shouts would convince the mule they were up to no good. Please, Rita, get us out of here. I thumped her again hoping she’d take the hint. All she did was drop her head a little.

  “Those damn dogs were yapping up a storm over here. They gotta be close,” the black-bearded Gunter shouted.

  “Yep, I can practically smell ’em.” Vince laughed. “May have to kill us a few dogs before we find them but we’ve got plenty of ammo.”

  “Please Rita,” I whispered. “Ready, Carol? One, two, three. Go!”

  We kicked. Rita took off like a thoroughbred. We cleared the open gate. What? The mule veered sharply left. Away from the woods. Away from safety.

  I had no way to guide Rita. I could barely hang on. Carol slid left, then right. I’d be topless soon if she didn’t quit yanking on my clothing.

  Vince stood dead ahead. He raised a gun. Aimed it.

  Rita didn’t slow or stumble. We flew over the thug. He just disappeared under the mule. Carol screamed. The man’s agonized cries echoed in my ears. Even louder than my rat-a-tat breathing.

&
nbsp; I dared to loosen my grip on Rita’s mane to twist slightly.

  The mule’s slashing hooves had put Vince down. Broken, mangled.

  The mule veered again and I almost toppled. Behind me Carol let out a cry as she slid toward the ground. I squeezed Rita’s sides with my knees tighter than a hungry boa. If I fell off, Carol and I would both hit the ground. Somehow Carol managed to right herself.

  Deviled Ham! Gunter loomed straight ahead. Staring at his downed pal, he faltered. Still he managed to pull the trigger as he dodged the thundering animal. Rita slammed against his body as a bullet whizzed by my ear. I chanced another look.

  Gunter was struggling up.

  Rita galloped toward the gate on Duncan’s pen. The closed gate.

  I pulled on her mane. “Stop,” I screamed.

  Then I braced for impact.

  Rita exploded through the boards. Splinters of wood flew like shrapnel. We were inside the billy goat’s domain. I couldn’t believe Carol and I remained topside. We’d slithered around her broad back like kids on a water slide. Wasn’t sure how we’d clung on.

  As Rita approached the far side of Duncan’s pen, she slowed and circled. Gunter pointed his gun at us.

  I prayed. No way could Rita charge Gunter again before he shot her. She was a huge target.

  A white blur caught my eye. Cheeses. Horny Duncan took advantage of the mangled gate, charging out of his pen. He rammed Gunter’s side. A straight shot to the ribs. The billy drove him to the ground.

  “Okay, Rita. Enough fun. Please, please, head for the forest. It’s nice and cool in there. Nice and safe.”

  I pulled on her mane and pressed my sneakers into her sides. Prayed for once the mule would listen before Gunter or Vince scrambled up and started shooting again.

  Much to my shock, Rita trotted into the woods. She seemed as serene as a cat snoozing in the sun. Very satisfied with herself.

  The woods closed behind us. I listened hard, trying to tune in to any sounds that said the no-necks were coming after us. I heard only chattering birds and the occasional rustle of a tiny animal. I mentally pledged to give Rita a treat every day for the rest of her life.

  “My God,” Carol said. “I thought we were dead at least three times. First thing I’m going to do when I see Zack is tell him I just want him to be happy. If Sala makes him happy, so be it. I would have hated to leave this world with my son thinking I was mad at him.”

  “I hear you,” I said. “Fear has a way of making us understand our priorities.”

  A man’s voice startled me.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  “Hey, you, don’t you know you can’t ride horses here?”

  We were approaching a small meadow where a park ranger stood, hands on hips, looking annoyed.

  “There are lots of trails for horses in the Clemson Forest, but not here,” he continued.

  “We know,” Carol said. “We’re sorry but your trees just saved our lives.”

  The ranger took a closer look. “My God, you’re Carol Strong, what in blazes?”

  Fortunately for us and the Park Ranger, Rita seemed to have filled her quota of knock-downs for the day.

  “I’m Stu Smith,” the park ranger introduced himself as he helped us shimmy down from Rita’s tall back.

  As soon as Carol finished giving a rundown on our escape, Ranger Smith loaned Carol his cell phone to contact the Sheriff and Zack. We needed to warn our cabin mates not to return to Udderly until the sheriff secured the area.

  I eavesdropped on the mother-son conversation while Ranger Smith scrounged up rope for a make-shift lead for Rita. The rope was so frayed I hoped Rita wouldn’t consider it an insult, break free, and trot away to demonstrate her disdain.

  Carol frowned. “Yes, Brie’s absolutely certain they were the same men who skulked around my house and strong-armed Eva.”

  She gripped the phone tighter as her son spoke.

  “Honey, you don’t know Sala lied.” Carol adopted her political, let’s stay calm voice. “Maybe Sala did fire those men and tell them to get lost. Someone else could have paid them more to stay and finish the job. Though I can’t imagine what the ‘job’ might be. What interest could Sala or her stepdaughter have in me? Doesn’t make sense.”

  After Carol ended her call, I used the borrowed cell to phone Andy. I crossed my fingers he could drive his horse trailer over to chauffeur Rita home once the sheriff gave the all-clear. I didn’t want to tempt fate by riding Rita back through the woods with no reins or saddle. Andy promised to come as soon as he could.

  Ranger Smith invited us to rest in the park office while we waited. At my request, Smith left the door open so Rita could see us. I’d tied the mule’s make-shift lead to a split-rail fence that bordered the office.

  It appeared neither Carol nor I felt up to initiating small talk. So we sat in uncomfortable silence. At least Ranger Smith had papers to shuffle. After about twenty minutes, the office phone rang.

  Smith’s “hello” was his last word for several minutes. He just listened and nodded with an occasional “uh huh.” Finally, he said, “I’ll tell them.”

  The ranger seemed reluctant to raise his eyes from the office phone and look at us.

  “They found an unarmed man dead at your farm. His body was pretty beat up, consistent with being battered by a mule’s hooves,” he said. “But he didn’t die from those injuries. He was shot to death. Looks like the weapon was a shotgun.”

  “What?” Carol and I managed in unison.

  “Both men were shooting handguns,” I said.

  I pictured Eva’s shotgun in the umbrella stand. Had the missing Gunter used it to kill his own partner? Why?

  “Hope that doesn’t make Brie and me suspects.” Carol apparently made the same mental leap. Eva’s shotgun had to be the murder weapon. “Just what I need, becoming a person of interest in another killing. Well, it might get me some votes from the gun lobby.”

  Carol’s lips flirted with a smile. “Should have asked Ranger Smith to take a photo of us on Rita. Might have gone viral on YouTube. You’d certainly never see my opponent on any equine, well, except his high-horse.”

  I walked over to where Carol sat and knelt in front of her. “We can vouch for each other. Those men came to kill us. We just tried to escape. Didn’t shoot anyone.”

  I tried to recall who last handled Eva’s shotgun. I’d picked it up to make certain Carol knew where it was.

  My fingerprints might be the only ones that were nice and clear if the shooter wore gloves.

  The sheriff brought along one of the deputies I’d seen on guard at the hospital. Still didn’t know his name.

  “Let’s head back to Udderly,” Sheriff Mason said. “We need you to do a little reenactment.”

  “Sorry, Sheriff,” I said. “I have to wait for Andy. He’s bringing a horse trailer to cart Rita back home. Given her day, I’m afraid she might really wig out if I leave her alone with a strange man.”

  Mason sighed. “Okay.”

  Despite the sigh, I thought Mason might be happy to have Carol and I separated when we repeated our stories.

  Once Carol left with the sheriff, my thoughts turned to Andy. How could I casually broach the subject of his dinner date? I needed to know if the relationship was serious before I blurted out how I felt about him. Well, about him and Paint.

  I had no right to be jealous but right had nothing to do with it. Mom would label me “a dog in the manger.” At some point, curiosity had prompted me to look up the origin of the phrase. It was a Greek fable about a dog who kept other animals from eating hay in the manger they shared, even though the dog had no desire to eat the hay.

  I’d told Andy and Paint I didn’t want them as lovers. But I lied. Unlike the fabled dog, I did indeed have an appetite, and I sure as shoot wanted other women to keep their mitts off both men.


  Andy jumped down from his truck, picked me up, and swung me around. “Thank God, you’re safe. Can’t believe someone shot at you, again. When’s your birthday? Going to buy you a full SWAT outfit, bullet-resistant vest and maybe one of those storm-the-building shields.”

  I licked my lips as I stared into his emerald eyes. “Thanks for dropping everything to rush over. You’re a sweetheart. Think you can help me coax Rita into the trailer? I have no idea what that stubborn mule might do next.”

  Andy reached in his pocket, extracted a sugar cube, and untied Rita’s lead. She whinnied and draped her big head over Andy’s shoulder. Guess she smelled her treat. Andy rubbed her velvety nose, then flattened his palm to reward her with a taste of sugar.

  “You have quite the way with women.” I strived for a light, teasing tone. “Bring any sugar cubes to dinner with you last night? Or were you the treat?”

  Andy’s eyes bored into mine. Had my voice hinted at my jealousy? My petty, unwarranted jealousy.

  “Brie, darling. If you really think I’m a treat, you can have me any time, any way. It was just dinner. I’m crazy about you. Until I get over you, that’s all any date with another woman will be. Problem is I don’t want to get over you.”

  Ranger Smith was standing in the doorway to his office eyeballing us. I didn’t care. I felt reckless. Near-death experiences and raging jealousy had obliterated any smidgeon of my good sense. I slid a hand between Rita’s head and Andy’s cheek and brought my other palm up to bracket Andy’s face. I stood on tip toe.

  The kiss wasn’t sweet. It was hard, possessive. It said I want you here and now. Which might have happened if Ranger Smith and Rita weren’t fidgeting bystanders.

  When the kiss ended, Andy’s green eyes seemed to have darkened. “This is one conversation I want to finish but not here. Let’s get you and Rita back home.”

  By the time we reached Udderly, there were no parking spaces left in front of the cabin. All close-in spots were taken up with three sheriff’s cruisers, my Prius, Eva’s truck, Sala’s Mercedes convertible, and a mystery Hummer, which I presumed belonged to the promised executive protection guys.