“Are you all right?” Ketra’s soft voice asked from the bedroom doorway.
Trevor flinched. How much of his re-enactment she had witnessed? He took a deep breath to compose himself and swallowed the anger threatening to explode deep inside. He turned and offered a weak smile.
“Yeah. I just got off the phone with Denny, my boss.”
Wearing one of his t-shirts, she padded barefoot to him and put her arms around his naked waist, drawing him close. “Bad news?”
He put a hand on the back of her head, cradling her against his chest. “Not the best.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“It’s about the case. There’s been some news. Nothing earth shattering. No break-through.”
“Who were you going to shoot?”
Trevor scrambled for an explanation. “I’m still trying to figure out where everything went wrong. We did everything by the book, but….”
Ketra pressed the side of her face against his shoulder. “You’ll get it figured out.”
He sank into the sofa pulled her onto his lap. “It looks like Brian Hamilton is the key to all of this.”
“Kyle’s dad, Brian Hamilton?”
Trevor nodded. “Something you said earlier made me suspicious. It was a long shot, but Denny checked into it. He uncovered some interesting things. He agrees with me. There’s a connection. We just have to find it.”
“What do you think?”
“There’s a prison guard at Kyle’s housing unit who made contact with Brian Hamilton a day or so before Kyle was released. The cop I shot also had contact with Brian Hamilton around the same time. It’s too coincidental to ignore.”
“Do you think the guy you shot was working with Kyle’s dad?”
“Or with the prison guard. His presence at the scene is a bit puzzling. No one at his precinct authorized him to be there. It was his day off. No one at his office knew anything about the operation we set up. We can’t find a reason to put him at Southwestern.”
Ketra’s brow furrowed. Trevor chewed on his bottom lip, mulling over the information from Denny. What am I missing? How is Glaskel connected to Hamilton and Sanchez?
“You ever heard of a Byron Sanchez?”
“I don’t think so. Who’s that?”
“He’s a correctional officer at OK Pen. How about a Sean Glaskel? Any chance you’ve heard of him?”
She shook her head. Her face, when it landed on his bicep, was warm and soft and smelled faintly of baby powder. He gathered her in his arms, returned to the bedroom and tucked her under the covers.
“I’m gonna be up for quite a while.” He kissed her rosebud lips. “Go back to sleep.”
Two hours later he crawled in next to her and closed his eyes. With a little luck he’d be able to catch at least an hour of sleep. Overcome with exhaustion, confusion and frustration, the presence of a sultry woman nestled beside him comforted and calmed him. He missed this kind of intimacy. He wanted it again. And he wanted it with Ketra. He had to find a way to convince her that they belonged together, that she needed him as much as he’d grown to need her.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Trevor tossed and turned for about forty-five minutes before giving up his quest for sleep. He might as well get up and clean some of the stalls before the vet arrived to administer shots to the horses. Rocky wanted to worm them all at the same time.
Ketra remained asleep in his bed, lips parted slightly, hair tangled around her face. He smiled. How delightful to wake up to such a beautiful sight.
He started coffee brewing before showering. After shuffling into the kitchen and filling a stainless steel travel mug with the fortifying brew, he slipped into the pre-dawn solitude. The trill of crickets punctuated the crisp freshness in the air. Wispy spirals of steam wafted from his cup. Movement to his left halted his descent from the porch steps. Two dark figures hunched together on Ketra’s porch. When she turned, he recognized Kennedy, the smaller of the two forms.
“You’re up early,” he said, sounding more like a threat than a greeting. The shock of finding someone on Ketra’s porch in the dark awakened a primal need to protect her. A need he thought he’d buried deep inside.
Marco cleared his throat. “We’re getting ready to leave.”
The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before Kennedy explained. “We didn’t want to take off without saying good-bye. We’re leaving a note for Ket. We’re going to stop back by on our way home. We need to stay one more night before we head back to Oklahoma.”
“She’s not there.” Dammit. Now the shit’s going to hit the fan.
Kennedy’s voice carried a hint of danger. “Where is sh—?” She shot a glance at Trevor’s house. With lips pressed tight she approached him with the determination of a warrior on a kill mission. “This better not be some kind of a rebound fling.”
Marco reached for her arm. She tugged free of his grip. “Tell me it’s not,” she seethed through clenched teeth.
Tread lightly Donaldson. “It’s not.”
Her voice deepened. “So help me, if you hurt her, I’ll—”
Intent to harm sparked clear in her eyes, eyes so like Ketra’s. The Weston girls are impressive when they get their dander up. “What?” He nodded his chin at her, challenging her threat.
“Kenny,” Marco warned. “This isn’t your business.”
“She’s my baby sister! Like hell it’s not my business.” She directed her words to Marco, but never took her eyes off Trevor. “That monster in Oklahoma raped her. He took her innocence. He sucked the life out of her. I won’t stand by and let that happen again!” Her attempt at whispering seemed like a megaphone in the morning stillness, advertising her wrath to the entire ranch.
“Kennedy. Stop,” Marco said.
Trevor thumbed his hat to the back of his head keeping his gaze locked with Kennedy’s. “What about me, Big Sister? What if she hurts me? Ketra’s not the only one who’s been led on, deceived and hurt in the past. I’m letting my guard down, too, taking a chance on her. Think about that.” He took two steps toward the barn, then switched direction and came back. “Why don’t you ask her what her intentions are toward me. Because I sure as hell don’t want to get hurt again either.” He repositioned his hat and leaned against the porch railing, daring her to speculate on Ketra’s feelings for him.
Kennedy lunged at him. Marco grabbed her elbows from behind and hauled her against his chest. When she slumped against him, he wrapped his arms around her. She tilted her head heavenward and whispered, “Please, Lord, don’t let her get hurt again.”
In a calm even tone, Marco addressed his fiancé. “She’s a big girl. Not as naïve as she was two years ago. She knew what she was doing when she went to his cabin. She wasn’t forced.”
“She’s my little sister.” Kennedy’s voice cracked with emotion. “He’s a recently divorced man. What if he’s just using her to get back at his wife for something?”
Trevor wanted to rail at her but Marco spoke first.
“Stop it.” He grasped her shoulders and spun her around so they faced each other. “He’s a decent guy. Remember how worried he was when she rode off on Lucifer yesterday? If he didn’t care about her, why would he have been so upset?”
Kennedy shot Trevor a mutinous look but he pretended insatiable interest in the horizon, now morphing to yellow green above the mountain peaks.
Marco took her hands, tugging her closer to him. “He’s got a lot more integrity than you’re giving him credit for.”
“You think so?”
“My money says we’ll see them together in Vernazza.”
“I hope you’re right.” Trevor noted the reluctance in her voice.
Marco kissed her. “Come on, we’re burning daylight. Let’s go take a look at that big hole in the ground.” As Marco guided her toward the main house, he
looked over his shoulder and nodded, a male gesture of approval. Trevor touched two fingers to his hat in return and took a long swig of coffee.
“I love you.” He heard Marco tell his fiancée.
“I love you, too.” She craned her neck around and locked gazes with Trevor for a second then muttered what sounded like, “I sure hope you’re right about him.”
Trevor hoped he was right, too, because where Ketra was concerned he had no idea where he stood. His emotions were in turmoil. Kennedy’s lack of faith in him cut deeper than he’d expected. Maybe he wasn’t ready to commit to someone else yet. Maybe he’d never be able to commit to someone else. Knowing that Ketra found him desirable boosted his ego, but was that enough to base an entire relationship on? She hadn’t declared her love. Maybe she was using him to get over her fear of men.
Disgusted with the direction of his thoughts, he pushed away from the railing and plodded to the barn. On mornings like this, he missed Brooks, who could always be counted on to have cleaned the stalls. The guys had all taken turns mucking since Brooks’ removal from the ranch. This morning he hoped the physical activity would work some of the anxiety out of his system.
About an hour later he heard a door open. Tack jingled in the hallway. He emptied the saturated shavings into the wheelbarrow and slid the stall door closed. No sign of life at this end of the barn. He rolled the wheelbarrow to the compost pile and emptied it before returning to the barn. Pausing outside the bigger tack room, he took his time perusing Ketra from head to toe. His lips curved upward at the memory of their lovemaking last night.
She turned, caught him staring and smiled. For a moment he questioned his true intentions toward her. He lusted after her for sure, but was there more? Was last night’s declaration of love a real emotion or just the result of an alcohol-lubricated tongue?
He swallowed and opened his mouth to speak, but wasn’t able to formulate words. She had him flustered, behaving juvenescent around her. Not a good sign. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Kennedy and Marco left for the Canyon. They put a note on your door.”
“I saw it. She says they’ll be back late tonight.” She rubbed her palms down her thighs.
After a long awkward pause, he said, “Well, I’ve got work to do.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” She selected a set of reins and saddle from the racks on the wall. With the bulky equipment properly balanced, she walked toward him, waiting for him to move out of the doorway so she could pass. “There should be enough Zimecterin in the refrigerator to worm all of the horses. But you might want to double check. In case I’m not remembering correctly.” She lumbered past him, down the right wing of the barn.
He snapped out of his trance, chiding himself for being so pensive. Work awaited. He couldn’t let fears about a relationship with Ketra hinder his work. Until she made a declaration of love, he’d go on pretending they were friends with occasional benefits. Nothing more. He’d enjoy whatever affection she threw his way but offer nothing more.
He counted the boxes of Zimecterin in the refrigerator then returned to mucking stalls. In an hour the vet would arrive. It’d take about that long to finish mucking this side of the barn.
At precisely eight o’clock, Dr. Zander Klinefelder stopped his older-model white Dodge pick-up truck just shy of the entrance to the main barn. The middle-aged, balding man wore faded denim jeans and a threadbare dark purple shirt, with several small holes in the front.
Despite the lack of hair on his head, the doctor had an overabundance on his face, his mutton chop sideburns and bushy eyebrows resembling wooly caterpillars. Trevor wondered what he spent his money on since it obviously wasn’t his wardrobe, appearance or vehicle.
Rocky arrived at the barn as Trevor and the doctor exchanged handshakes. After casual greetings, the vet took a leather bag from the front seat of his truck and accompanied Rocky down the right wing of the barn. Trevor followed with several boxes of Zimecterin.
“We’ll start with Lucifer,” Rocky said. “He doesn’t like to be confined.”
“What man really does?” Dr. Klinefelder quipped.
After a conciliatory guffaw, Rocky took the boxes of wormer from Trevor. “Go tell Kettie we’ll need her for just a few minutes.”
He found her tightening the cinch on the sorrel gelding she’d been riding the day he arrived. “Trying it again, huh?”
Ketra unhooked the stirrup from the pommel and let it dangle along the gelding’s side. She turned with a half-smile. “They don’t get to call the shots. I do.”
“Rocky could use a hand with Lucifer.”
“Okay.”
Trevor walked beside her toward Lucifer’s stall. “It’s nice of you to let Rocky use Lucifer for stud service.”
She shrugged her slim shoulders. “It’s the least I can do after everything he’s done for me. Lucifer’s a purebred paint with an impeccable pedigree. He’s worth a lot of money and he throws beautiful babies. All with color.”
“That’s a good arrangement. He’s built a top-notch facility for you here that’s for sure.”
When they reached Lucifer’s stall, she coaxed the horse to accept the halter then held him while the vet performed his examine and administered the requisite shots and wormer. Trevor and Rocky stood alert outside the stall while Ketra and Dr. Klinefelder fussed over the big stallion.
Ketra forced the thick white Zimecterin into Lucifer’s mouth. Dr. Klinefelder rolled the stall door closed behind him as soon as he finished his examination.
“He’s not so bad when the little lady’s around, is he?” the vet said. “Sure could have used her when Dom got hurt.”
“It is ironic that the one day Ket leaves the ranch, I get a call for Lucifer’s stud service,” Rocky admitted.
“He wouldn’t have gotten hurt if he had led him instead of trying to ride him.” Ketra said in Lucifer’s defense. “Old fool was trying to show off.”
The vet and Rocky stopped at the first stall on the other side of the barn. Dr. Klinefelder conducted a brief physical exam of the horse, checking ears, hooves, teeth, and eyes. He kept up a constant stream of chatter as he skillfully maneuvered his hands around the horse.
“Speaking of Dom,” the doctor asked, “hear anything from him lately?”
“I just spoke with him last night.” Rocky answered. “He’s doing pretty good. He’s a little worried about the hip. The doctor says it’s not healing as fast as he’d hoped. The ankle will be okay though.”
“He’s probably giving his sister grief that won’t quit.”
“No doubt.”
“When’s he supposed to be back?”
“It looks like it’s going to be at least another month before he’ll be back to full duty.”
They advanced to the next stall, performing an examination of a palomino gelding. The vet primed a needle before injecting it into the horse. “He using crutches?”
“Yes, but his sister’s afraid he’ll fall again. She doesn’t let him up much.”
“Sounds like a woman, all right.” Dr. Klinefelder laughed.
“Oh, she means well. I don’t blame her. If he takes a tumble, she’ll never be able to lift him by herself. ‘Course she has Brooks there now so he might be able to help Dom get around a little more.”
“McCall?”
“Yeah. Ruth needed some help. I took Brooks over there to stay for a while.”
“Rumor has it Tandie McCall’s been seen around town again.”
“How’s she doin’?” Rocky asked with genuine concern.
“I haven’t seen her, but Rowdy over at the Lazy G said he saw her at the diner a few nights ago. They used to date back in high school. I think he’s still a little sweet on her.”
With nothing meaningful to do and unable to contribute to the conversation, Trevor excused himself to make some phone calls. Outside he changed course, vee
ring toward the corral fence where Ketra stared toward the western horizon.
“You all right?”
“Maybe he panicked.”
“Who?”
“The cop you shot. Maybe he was there for the same reason you were, but he got there first. When you and your partner showed up, you startled him, and he panicked.”
He shrugged and let his eyes wander to the mahogany mountainside in the distance. Warmth filled his chest at the idea of her trying to solve his problems. He hadn’t meant to involve her or to worry her. Maybe she does care about me. “That doesn’t seem likely. I mean, he’s a trained cop, familiar with procedure. And we were in uniform and identified ourselves. If he got a tip of any kind, it wasn’t about our case. No one from his precinct knew anything about what we were doing.”
Ketra’s eyebrows bunched under her dirty Resistol when she glanced up at him.
He smiled down at her and traced his index finger along her temple and jaw line, letting it rest on her chin. “Anything’s possible. But we’re leaning toward a connection to Kyle Hamilton’s dad. That makes the most sense after looking at the phone records.”
“He’s not a nice man.” The lines between her brows deepened and her nostrils flared. “How is he involved?”
“We think the money in the safe was intended for him. But, we can’t prove that. What we can prove, is his involvement with Southwestern. And that he’s been having regular telephone contact with a correctional officer named Byron Sanchez over at the prison in Oklahoma.”
“You think Kyle’s dad was stealing money to pay the prison guards to protect Kyle?”
Trevor almost laughed out loud at how quickly she’d put the pieces together. Maybe she was in the wrong line of work. Hell, maybe he was, too.
“That’s what I think. But, we still have to fit Glaskel into the picture. I’m still on the hook until that mystery is solved.”
On Common Ground Page 25
