No answer.
He knocked again, louder, this time opening the door when there was no response.
The room was empty.
“What the hell?”
Reed backed out and stood there for a moment until he noticed the cold draft. He saw the rear door cracked open even as he heard a muffled sound from beyond.
“Alcina!”
He threw the door open, the light from the hallway faintly illuminating his wife prone in the gangway, a hulking figure over her.
“Hey!”
Like a madman, he flung himself through the doorway, aimed at the man who dared touch his wife so intimately.
They connected and went rolling, even as the other man muttered, “What the hell!”
Reed’s fist connected with the man’s mouth, closing it for him. They traded punches, and it was only by sheer luck that Reed got the upper hand on the bigger man, dragging him back into the light for a look.
“Martell? Explain yourself,” Reed demanded as a moan broke from Alcina.
He let go of the man and flew to her side.
“I heard noises and I found her lying there,” Martell boomed. “I was just trying to bring her to.”
“What’s going on?” came another male voice belonging to Hugh Ruskin.
But Reed was focused on his wife. “Alcina, are you all right?”
She made another sound low in her throat and turned her head toward the light. He could see that the side of her mouth was swollen, as if someone had hit her. Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned again.
“I’m here now,” he said, finally noticing the disarray of her clothing. Her cashmere sweater was unbuttoned all the way to her waist and her jeans were unsnapped and unzipped. “It’s Reed. I’m here. I’ll take care of you. Does anything hurt?”
Reed quickly began buttoning her sweater.
She licked her lips. “Hip.” She barely got the word out. And then, “Shoulder.”
“What in the heck happened out here?” Ruskin asked.
“I was coming back to the bar from my truck and I heard this noise,” Martell claimed. “I just found her and was trying to help her up when that madman charged me. I couldn’t even see who it was, for God’s sake!”
“I guess a woman who can’t hold her liquor shouldn’t drink,” Ruskin mused.
Making Reed want to kill the bartender with his bare hands. Him and whoever attacked his wife. Alcina hadn’t ended up sprawled in an alley half-undressed on her own.
He zipped her up and snapped her, and only then did he realize she was wearing jeans after claiming she didn’t own a pair.
“I’m going to help you to your feet,” he said, trying to sound reasonable when that was the last thing he felt like being. He wanted to punch something—someone—bad. “Do you think you can stand?”
“Mmm.”
He had her in a sitting position before she seemed to focus on him. “Reed?”
“Yeah, I’m here. What is it? Does something hurt? Should I get you to a hospital?”
“You’re late!”
With that announcement, she passed out again and began to snore.
Chapter Eleven
Bright light sizzled the backs of her eyelids, making Alcina reluctant to open them lest they hurt worse.
She hurt…all over.
What had happened to her?
She remembered being sick…roughed up…taken care of.
Her eyes flew open and she squinted for a moment until they adjusted and she could scope things out. She was in her own room, in her own bed.
Reed was there, sprawled in her rocking chair, his stocking feet on a cushioned footstool. His eyes were closed, his mouth opened slightly. She could hear his steady breathing against the quiet of the room.
Vague remembrances of the night before hit her in waves. The only thing she could be sure of was that she’d been damn sick. And that Reed had brought her home. Had taken care of her. Had watched over her all night long, from the looks of it.
She also remembered him calling Bart and his friend John Malone—the sheriff of Taos County. She thought someone had come in the middle of the night, but Reed had taken care of the situation as he had the break-in.
Carefully, she sat up. Her head throbbed and her jaw was sore, just as if someone had hit her.
Not wanting to waken Reed, she awkwardly slid to the other side of the bed away from him, every muscle of her body protesting, especially her shoulder and hip. About to get out from under the covers, she realized that she was next to naked, dressed only in her bra and panties. And she didn’t remember undressing herself.
Flustered, she glanced back at Reed. His head had rolled to one side, and he continued to breathe deeply. He was still sound asleep.
Alcina left the bed and crept to the bathroom, where she inspected herself in the mirror. The left side of her lower lip was a little swollen, and a smudge of a bruise shadowed her jaw.
Someone had hit her!
A zipped plastic bag filled with water had been discarded in the sink. Melted ice? Vaguely, she remembered Reed holding something cold to her face…
The rest of her looked normal enough, except for the hip she’d bruised at the fire. That was now blooming anew.
She popped a couple of aspirin for the headache and turned on the shower.
Bits and pieces of memory returned as the hot water beat down on her, loosening tight, sore muscles. Someone dragging her. Being dumped. Rough hands on her body.
She just couldn’t put it all together.
Only one image kept coming back to her—Reed, taking care of her.
Was it possible that he was beginning to feel something for her other than friendship?
Alcina shook her head. Knowing Reed, he would have done the same thing for any human being. Heck, he’d done as much for Temporary.
She forbade herself any maudlin thoughts. She needed to concentrate.
But no matter how hard she tried, Alcina couldn’t envision exactly what had happened between her passing out in the bathroom and Reed’s finding her in the street.
She stepped out of the shower, feeling both better physically and deeply shaken mentally. After drying off, she wrapped a bath sheet around herself, then ventured back into the bedroom.
Reed was awake. The sound of the shower must have penetrated his deep sleep. Standing before the window, his back was to her. But he must have sensed her presence.
“Good morning,” he said and turned to face her. His gaze drifted to the towel where it bound her breasts. “You’re looking better.”
“I’m feeling better…I guess.” Quickly, she fetched a robe from the closet and slipped it on over the towel. “Last night’s kind of a blur.”
“How many margaritas did you drink?”
“I wasn’t drunk!” Even as she denied it, Alcina knew it to be true. “I mean, I certainly did feel a little mellow. But then I got sick and tequila doesn’t make me sick. It was the weirdest feeling…like…like…”
“What?”
Finally, she put her finger on what had been troubling her. “I’ve had some bad reactions to medications. Anti-inflammatories, muscle relaxants. They’ve upset my stomach and made me feel horrible all over. That’s kind of how I felt last night, only worse.”
Reed’s expression changed and he moved toward her. “Could someone have spiked your drink?”
“I guess it’s possible…ooh, alcohol combined with a drug that didn’t agree with me.” She shuddered.
“Tell me everything you can remember about last night from the moment you arrived at the bar.”
Alcina did her best to give him every detail. She wasn’t having trouble recounting the early part of the evening.
She started with finding the pickup, went on to her conversation with Ruskin about the rings, ended with her making the telephone call and coming back to find her fresh margarita on the table.
“The first drink didn’t bother you?”
“I didn’t feel any
thing weird.”
“So it was the second one that made you sick. And Martell had access to it before he left the Silver Slipper.”
“Martell? Why would he have spiked my drink?”
“Your clothes,” Reed said, moving close enough to brush the loose hair back from her cheek. “They were open.”
Disturbed by his unexpected touch, she didn’t get what he was trying to tell her. “What?”
His expression pained, Reed said, “You were lying on the ground with your sweater unbuttoned and your jeans unzipped. You were molested, and if I hadn’t gotten there when I did, you might have been…it might have gone further.”
Alcina was already shaking her head in denial. “Sexually molested? No. That’s wrong. I would know.”
“Not if you were out when it happened. I pulled Vernon Martell off you,” Reed finally said, wrapping his arms around her.
Alcina’s pulse raced and not only due to his proximity. His words disturbed her. She took mental inventory of her body, but her tender parts all felt fine. No matter what it had looked like, sex hadn’t been involved.
More vague memories returned in snatches, again of someone handling her roughly but not intimately. Martell? She couldn’t say. But Reed had believed it and he’d gone all out to protect her.
“And you took such good care of me last night,” she murmured, finding some good in the bad.
“Of course. You’re mine.”
Alcina ignored the statement of ownership and pulled away a bit so she could look directly into his eyes. “But I wasn’t molested…I was searched.” The more she thought about it, the more certain she was. “The person who did this was looking for something specific.” It came to her from nowhere. “The diamond.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment and Alcina could tell Reed was considering that seriously. Her own mind was working at high speed.
“The diamond was gone after the break-in. What if Daddy does have it?” she asked. “The intruder didn’t find it here, so he thought I had it on me.”
“How would this person know you had it in the first place? Who did you tell about it?”
“Only Daddy and Pru knew. And Reba, of course…and anyone she told.” Alcina’s heart nearly stopped with the next leap. “Oh my God…Reba…”
“You’re not thinking—”
“That Reba’s death was no accident,” Alcina said, nodding, feeling as if she’d knocked over the first domino and the whole chain was following. Everything was starting to fall into place. “And that she died from a combination of painkillers and alcohol, probably the very thing that made me so sick! Good thing I didn’t drink any more than I did.”
Reed cursed. “That diamond must have been valuable, but worth killing for?”
“What if it wasn’t the diamond itself? How about its worth being a ‘staying out of jail’ card? What if the person who set the barn fire lost the diamond in the act, then later realized it could point to him?”
“Murder to cover up a lesser crime?”
“I’ve heard of weirder things happening.”
Reed shook his head. “There must be something much bigger at stake here.”
“But how do we figure out what?” Alcina asked, frustrated by the eventual roadblock. “How do we put all the pieces of the puzzle together to make some sense of it?”
“Puzzle. That’s it,” Reed said, kissing her. He grabbed his boots. “Get dressed. We need to get back to the ranch to figure this thing out.”
He started to leave the room, then hesitated. Turning back to her, he grinned.
“And be sure to wear those jeans you found. They look mighty fine on you, Mrs. Quarrels.”
THEIR FIRST STOP was at the gas station. Reed checked out the pickup for himself.
“This is the vehicle Pa drove off the ranch, all right.”
“And from these tracks,” Alcina said, pointing to a set imprinted in the muck nearby, “we can hope he and Daddy are together, watching each others’ backs.”
“But what in the world are they up to?” Reed shook his head. “Let’s get some coffee and doughnuts, then get over to the ranch.”
Reed knew he couldn’t leave Alcina alone again until the mystery was solved. He could have lost her. Or she could have been seriously hurt.
Relief had washed through him at her insistence that she hadn’t been sexually molested.
Thank God.
The thought had eaten at his gut like a cancer all night long. He’d tended to her needs, then tucked her in bed and settled himself close at hand, just in case she needed him.
Alcina surely inspired extreme emotions in him. Why? he wondered.
The night before, he’d wanted nothing more than to use Vernon Martell as a human punching bag. As he’d lifted Alcina into his arms, he’d threatened the rancher with dire consequences if he ever came near her again.
But maybe Martell had been telling the truth when he said he’d been trying to help Alcina.
“If Martell didn’t attack you, then who?” Reed asked aloud.
“Who else wants the land?”
“Cesar Cardona.”
“And Cardona was intent on Reba’s not showing the diamond around,” Alcina murmured. “He even offhandedly claimed it was his. And he had access to Reba herself.”
“And…he had access to your drink.”
“So did the bartender, for that matter.”
“Except you said the first drink didn’t make you sick,” Reed reminded her.
“Maybe I just didn’t drink enough of it. Or enough time didn’t pass.”
“I don’t know. Hugh Ruskin doesn’t seem the type to want to work too hard. I can’t see him having the urge to ranch.”
“True. No one else has shown interest in the Curly-Q?”
“Not that I know of.”
After taking a curve on the way down to the canyon floor, Reed glanced at Alcina, who sat quiet and thoughtful. She was wearing the jeans especially for him.
Her way of telling him how she felt about him?
Reed reluctantly admitted that he did have some scary feelings for Alcina…he couldn’t think of her as a business partner if his life depended on it.
So why couldn’t he woo her properly? He knew that was all she wanted to make theirs a real marriage.
He guessed the circumstances surrounding his proposal sat between them like a big wedge. She didn’t know the extent of the ugliness of it. And he didn’t know how to get around it.
One more example of his not being able to speak his mind when it counted…
The ranch had never seemed so deserted, what with Pa missing, Bart and the kids in Albuquerque and Moon-Eye and Frank already out distributing cake—high-protein food pellets—to the herd.
Only Felice moved around the house, her manner subdued. She, too, was worried about Pa. She insisted she make them a big lunch and Reed didn’t argue. It would keep her busy and they would need to eat eventually. The coffee and doughnuts wouldn’t hold them much longer.
Once in the office, Reed found the ranch ledger and Pa’s ranch diary, in which the old man made notations to himself about what happened and when.
“We need to make a list of all the bad luck we’ve been having, right from the very beginning.”
“You think we can find a pattern of some kind?”
“Exactly.”
That they were operating on the same track pleased Reed. While Alcina paged through the ledger, noting the unusual expenditures, Reed went through Pa’s diary. He started a year back and moved forward, skimming every page.
“Here,” he said. “It all started with the anthrax outbreak.”
“Anthrax. You don’t think that was an act of nature?”
“It wouldn’t be easy to get, but labs do have vials of the anthrax virus in order to make the vaccine, so it’s possible that a person was responsible. And Pa noted a call from a Realtor the very next day.”
“How horrible that someone would purposely spread
a deadly disease.”
“You know, I can’t see another rancher being responsible,” Reed said, “not with the disrespect shown to the animals and property. Causing an outbreak of anthrax would not only kill cows, it would make that land unusable for grazing in his lifetime and beyond. They say there have been cases of spores infecting animals a century after the original outbreak.”
“Which means you’ve eliminated your main suspect, Vernon Martell,” Alcina said.
Reed didn’t know what kind of a rancher Martell was, with him being one of the newcomers to the area, but Reed did find it difficult to believe the man could have done something so vile.
“So we’re back to Cesar Cardona,” Alcina murmured.
“Pa figured a land developer was involved,” Reed admitted. “But I’m not so sure. Other ranchers have been willing to sell right along. There’s plenty of land around for as many city slickers who want acreage. So I don’t think the attraction is land development.”
“Unless there’s something special about the particular area…” Alcina switched gears. “Here’s a big expenditure. Repairs to fences.” She added it to the list.
“And a bunch of feed going moldy when it shouldn’t have,” Reed told her.
There was no end to the small things. Nearly none to the big. Sick cows, broken windmill, downed fence, dying calves, broken posthole digger.
At the next diary entry he read, Reed suddenly sat up straighter. “Chance’s electrocution—Pa thought Will Spencer had nothing to do with that because he got one of those calls from a real estate agent the next day.”
“You think whoever is responsible wanted Chance dead?”
“Chance probably wasn’t the intended target. There was a downed power line crossing an electric fence. That could have killed off more than a few head.”
“Instead, it almost killed your brother.”
“Only because he got in the way,” Reed reasoned.
Alcina’s eyes went wide. “Like Peter Dagget, the kid who was killed riding the wrong horse. Josie still blames herself for his death—as if she could have kept him off that horse once he put his mind to riding it. What if something happened out there…he stumbled onto something he shouldn’t have? What if his death wasn’t an accident, either?”
A Rancher's Vow Page 16
