Sovereign Sheriff

by Cassie Miles

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Freeman turned his focus to Saida. “You’re the princess from Jamala.”

  “I am.”

  He took her hand and raised it to his lips for a respectful kiss. “I’m glad to meet you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jake stood and stared. He’d never seen a cowboy kiss a lady’s hand. Matter of fact, he’d never seen anybody do that. The courtly gesture was kind of nice, kind of classy. It’d be a damn shame if Wade Freeman turned out to be the money man who paid to have Saida attacked.

  She responded gracefully to his hand-smooching with a slight inclination of her head. “It’s a pleasure.”

  “Would you care to step inside? I could whip up some cocoa. We had apple pie for dessert, and there are leftovers.”

  Though Jake’s mouth watered at the thought of pie and cocoa, he wanted to keep this conversation on a professional level. “No thanks. I’ll just ask my questions, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Another time.” He tilted his head up. “Beautiful night, isn’t it? I never get tired of looking at those stars.”

  If Freeman had done anything criminal, he was doing an incredible job of covering up. He seemed like one of the most decent men Jake had ever met. With complete honesty, he said, “I’m sorry we haven’t met before. Do you live here alone?”

  “I don’t have any family left, not since my mom passed away last year. There’s a little apartment around back for the housekeeper and her little boy. And my foreman has a bedroom on the second floor. And I’ve got six full-time hands living in the bunkhouse.”

  That sounded just about right for a ranch this size. Jake was actually feeling guilty for bothering this man.

  Freeman turned toward Saida. “I’ve heard many good things about you, Princess. Congratulations on completing your first year of law school.”

  “Thank you. May I ask how you knew I was in law school?”

  “Your brother told me.”

  Surprise flashed in her eyes. “You’ve spoken to Amir?”

  “Not recently.” Freeman glanced toward Jake. “Believe me, Sheriff. If I knew where Amir was, I’d tell you in a heartbeat.”

  “Good to know.”

  Saida asked, “When did you make my brother’s acquaintance?”

  “A little over a year ago,” Freeman said. “We made contact via the internet. You wouldn’t think a rancher in Wyoming and a sheik from the Mediterranean would have much in common, but we share business interests.”

  “You raise cattle,” she said. “I adore beef, but our people are mostly shepherds, goatherds and fishermen.”

  “Amir and I are both poking around the edges of the oil business, trying to make the right connections.” Again, he looked toward Jake, including him in the conversation. “I’ve got over a hundred thousand acres, and my granddaddy wasn’t a fool. The Freeman family owns the mineral rights. I’m researching my options.”

  Jake understood the reasoning. Freeman might be sitting on a fortune in untapped oil, but there were no guarantees. He could waste a lot of money on geological surveying and exploratory drilling. However, looking for advice from Amir was a strange move—a suspicious move.

  “You contacted Amir about a year ago,” Jake said. “Was that after your mother passed away?”

  “You bet it was. Mom was opposed to oil prospecting on Freeman land.”

  And her son hadn’t wasted any time furthering his own interests. Freeman’s shiny bright first impression took on a bit of tarnish.

  “What did you expect to learn from Amir?” Jake asked. “Your land holdings are different, the drilling process wouldn’t be the same, and Amir doesn’t have to deal with the American legal system.”

  “Money is the same all over the world,” Freeman said. “Amir and I were dealing with some of the same investors and oil company people.”

  “I understand the need for research,” Saida said. “In spite of his reputation for being impulsive, Amir invests a great deal of time in study before he makes a decision.”

  Freeman nodded. “That’s why he set up this summit for the COIN nations. To make sure you’re all on the same page.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” she said. “My brother didn’t confide in me about the COIN summit. What do you know about it?”

  “I was hoping to take part in a couple of meetings.”

  She paused for a moment, and Jake could see her thinking and calculating before she spoke. “Last year,” she said. “My brother was in America on business. Did he visit you as a part of that trip?”

  “That’s right.”

  This was a big revelation—a huge chunk of the puzzle. For weeks, Jake had been trying to figure out why the royals had come here. “You’re the reason Amir chose the Wind River Ranch and Resort for the COIN summit.”

  “It’s more than that.” Freeman gave an easy grin. “When Amir visited, he fell in love with Wyoming. He spent a lot of time by himself, exploring the territory and riding.”

  “Did he stay at your ranch?” she asked.

  “Not for long, and he didn’t want me to introduce him to anybody. He liked being anonymous. Not having bodyguards and pressures. Not having people watching his every move.” He focused on Saida. “Being a princess, you must feel the same way at times.”

  “Only when I’m in Jamala,” she said.

  “You’ve been in the U.S. for a long time,” he said. “Do you ever think about going back? Living in your home country?”

  “It’d be difficult,” she admitted. “In America, my horizons are wide open. In Jamala? No so much. But if Amir needed me, I’d go home.”

  “Would he admit that he needed you? He seems like a proud man who doesn’t ask for help.”

  “That’s true,” she said. “He hardly ever shares his problems with me. He’s too busy protecting me.”

  Jake couldn’t believe his ears. This wasn’t an interrogation. It was a damn therapy session. He needed to take control. “Mr. Freeman, you should have come forward with any information you had about Sheik Amir.”

  “Sorry, sheriff. I didn’t mean to make your job harder. It’s just that Amir wanted to keep our relationship quiet.”

  “And why is that?”

  When Freeman shrugged, Jake sensed that their conversation had taken a sharp turn down a dark alley. Nice guy or not, Freeman was hiding something.

  “You’re going to have to give me a reason,” Jake said. “Why does your relationship need to be secret?”

  “Ranching is a simple lifestyle,” he said. “It’s hard for me to imagine all the complications of Amir’s life. He’s the ruler of a nation, dealing with political factions in Jamala as well as with the other island nations in COIN. He didn’t want them to know he was talking to me.”

  “No, you’re mistaken.” Saida’s reaction was sudden and vehement. In an instant, she went from soft to tense. “Amir wouldn’t keep secrets from the others. Efraim is like a brother to him.”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Freeman said. “I’m not implying that Amir was suspicious or trying to put something over on the others. It’s just a matter of timing.”

  Archly, she said, “Perhaps Amir didn’t mention your relationship because you aren’t as important as you think.”

  “Could be.” Instead of taking offense, Freeman was gentle and conciliatory, almost apologetic. “When Amir disappeared, I wanted to help. I went over to the resort a couple of times and tried to introduce myself to the others.”

  A tidy explanation for why he’d appeared multiple times in Danny’s photos. Everything Freeman said seemed reasonable, but Jake needed tangible proof. And an alibi.

  He cut to the chase. “On the night Amir went missing, was he coming to see you?”

  “No.”

  “Where were you that night?”

  Freeman’s affable smile slipped from his face. “I don’t see why you want me to give you an alibi. I heard that the car was rigged with a bomb. I wouldn’t have to be there to deto
nate the trigger.”

  The location where the explosion took place was nowhere near this ranch. It seemed unlikely that Amir was on his way here. “I’d still like an alibi.”

  “I was home. My foreman and my housekeeper can vouch for me.”

  Live-in employees came in handy. There wasn’t much chance that they’d betray their boss. Jake tried a different tactic. “Your relationship with Amir might give me some insights to why he went missing. I’d like to see your correspondence with him.”

  “And I’d be happy to oblige,” Freeman said, “just as soon as you show me a warrant.”

  Apparently, the friendly offers of pie and hand-kissing were over. Freeman shifted his posture, facing Jake in a direct confrontation. His face was stern. He wasn’t exactly ordering them off his property, but the message was clear.

  “Thanks for your time,” Jake said. “I’ll be back.”

  As he and Saida turned to leave, Freeman spoke to her, “Princess, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

  “My needs are well taken care of,” she said.

  He looked at her, then at Jake, then back at the princess again. His features relaxed. The smile returned to his face, and he gave Jake a wink.

  IN THE CAR, SAIDA TURNED in her seat to look back at Freeman’s ranch as they drove away. The two-story ranch house with lights shining on the porch and from one of the upstairs windows seemed as peaceful and calm as a picture postcard. When she thought of the West, this was the sort of scene she imagined—a moonlit ranch house with mountains in the background and cattle lowing from the field beside the road. If Freeman could be believed, Amir had been similarly enchanted by this countryside.

  She didn’t exactly know what to make of the rancher who claimed to know her brother. Supposedly, Freeman and Amir had a “relationship”—an odd word to describe a business association.

  At first, she’d been drawn to Freeman, but she didn’t like when he started casting aspersions. “He’s wrong, you know. Efraim and the others would never betray Amir.”

  “It’s the second time tonight that we’ve heard of trouble in the COIN paradise,” Jake said.

  “There are always enemies.” She should have stayed in closer touch with her brother, should have known who to suspect. “Our four small nations have a bond of loyalty. Of course, there are squabbles and disagreements, but I trust the princes more than a rancher who barely knows Amir.”

  “Freeman has secrets,” Jake said. “The way he and Amir contacted each other seems suspicious.”

  “Are you going to get a warrant for his computer?”

  “It’s on my to-do list but not a top priority. My number one concern is solving the murder.”

  “And finding Amir,” she reminded him.

  “If we catch the killer, we’ll find out who was after you. That person will lead us to your brother.”

  She appreciated the logic. With all these disparate bits of information bouncing around, it helped to have a clear vision. “How does Freeman fit into this picture?”

  “I don’t know that he does. I don’t think Wade Freeman is a cold-blooded killer.”

  “How can you tell? Anyone could commit murder.”

  “Gut feeling,” he said.

  “That’s not very practical.”

  “And it doesn’t hold up in a court of law,” he said. “But my gut is usually right. My impression of Freeman is that he’s basically a decent man. He likes Amir. And he likes you.”

  His friendliness was undeniable. She wanted to like him, too. “He made me feel comfortable.”

  “By drooling on your hand?” He grinned. “That’s a new one for me. When I started going to political events, I got used to the air kisses on both cheeks. But hand kissing?”

  “I thought it was sweet.” When Freeman raised her hand to his lips, she’d been surprised. But his attitude was perfectly respectable and reminded her of her brother. Amir had been known to woo the ladies with courtly gestures.

  “What’s the proper way to greet a princess?” he asked.

  “It really doesn’t matter.”

  He grinned. “A bow or curtsy? How about a fist bump? Or clicking your heels three times and spinning in a circle?”

  “If you must know,” she said, “there are ceremonial protocols for special occasions in Jamala. The greeting depends upon the position and rank of the individual. The lower the status, the deeper the bow.”

  “I’m guessing you wear costumes for your ceremonies, maybe a tiara or two.”

  She wasn’t particularly fond of the formal events when she was required to wear royal robes and a ridiculous array of jewelry. “Are you teasing me?”

  “Me? Hell, no. I’m just trying to figure out the right way to say hello to you.”

  She would have been annoyed if he hadn’t been so appealing. He’d taken off his cowboy hat, and his black hair was handsomely disheveled. Two could play at this teasing game.

  She unfastened her seat belt and leaned across the console to kiss his cheek. She whispered in his ear. “Here’s my rule. When you greet me, you should be shirtless.”

  “What happens if I disobey?”

  She nipped his earlobe. “I’ll punish you.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll need to use your handcuffs.” She gave him another little kiss and returned to her seat. “Where are we going now? To talk to the other person we saw in the photos? The guy who works for Maddox?”

  “Give me a minute. I’m still thinking about you and me and handcuffs.” He gave a shiver. “Okay, then. Right now, I’m taking you back to the resort.”

  When he mentioned the resort, she immediately thought of the luxurious suite and the bed with Italian linens. She’d like to sink into that bed with him, to make love until morning. “Will you stay with me?”

  “I’d like nothing better than to spend the night with you, but not there. Not with Nasim and the royal entourage hovering outside the door.”

  Unfortunately, she agreed. The price she paid for being a royal was a lack of privacy. When she was in Jamala, her every move was scrutinized and judged. Even when she was a child, there were people watching her and Amir.

  Her island homeland was so different from the vast, open terrain of Wyoming. Finding solitude in the mountains would be easy. When Amir had come here to visit Freeman, he’d gone off on his own. And now, he had disappeared again.

  She gazed into the night, imagining her brother in a secluded mountain cabin, surrounded by peace and quiet. She imagined him safe and warm and happy. After he’d had enough time by himself, he would emerge. She would be united with him again. She had to believe that she’d find him.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Hoping to avoid running into the other royals, Saida directed Jake to the outdoor entrance for her suite. The landscaping at the Wind River Ranch and Resort was designed more for beauty than for security, but the ranch hands were working double duty as night watchmen. Jake exchanged a nod and a wave with a cowboy who sauntered across the grounds and around to the other side of the building.

  She dug into her custom-made shoulder bag for the key to the privacy fence. Her Beretta was easily accessible, as was her cell phone, but the key card eluded her. She glared at the latch below the key card reader, and saw that the gate was open a crack.

  Jake had also noticed. He whispered, “Was this locked when you left?”

  She nodded.

  “I’m going in,” he said in a low voice. He took his gun from the holster and handed her the keys to his SUV. “Go back to the car.”

  She started to obey, retreating a few steps toward where they had parked. The SUV was several yards away. She heard a noise to her left, pivoted and peered into a neatly landscaped stand of aspen trees with the breeze rustling through the leaves.

  Whirling again, she turned back toward the open gate. Was the intruder still in her suite? Jake must think so; that had to be why he was being so quiet. Whether or not he wanted her there, sh
e was going to provide backup for him.

  Her gun fit neatly into her grasp. She dropped her purse just inside the gate so it wouldn’t get in her way if she had to shoot. A shiver went through her. In target practice, she was extremely accurate, but she’d never fired her weapon at a living creature.

  Moonlight shone on the hot tub and the flagstone terrace outside her room. The French doors were closed. Though the night was calm, it wasn’t completely quiet. She heard the murmur of voices and laughter from another part of the resort.

  As she watched, Jake turned the brass handle on the French door. It was open.

  Now she was one hundred percent sure about the break-in. She might have absentmindedly left the gate unlocked, but not the door. She would have remembered to lock the door.

  Before he stepped inside, he motioned for her to stay back. For a moment, she hesitated. She didn’t want to distract him, but she didn’t think she was any safer out here than in the room. Carefully, she crept toward the French doors.

  From inside her room, she heard Jake curse. A light went on, and she hurried inside. A body was sprawled on the carpet beside her bed. From the blond ponytail, she identified Danny Harold.

  Still holding his gun, Jake dropped to his knee beside Danny. One-handed, he shoved the photographer onto his back. The left side of Danny’s forehead was matted with blood. He exhaled a low moan.

  “He’s alive,” Jake said. “Call 911.”

  He wasted no more time with the fallen paparazzo. Jake moved quickly to check out the rest of the suite. Through the doorway, she saw the lights in the sitting room go on.

  Since she’d left her purse with the cell phone outside, she went to the chair near the French doors and reached for the phone on the coffee table. As she pressed the button for the front desk, she noticed a scrap of lined paper on the table. In red pen, someone had written a phone number and three words: Tell no one.

  Ever since she arrived in Wyoming, she’d been looking for evidence that would lead to her brother. And here it was—a red-lettered clue. She should give the scrap to Jake; his forensic team could process the clue, maybe find fingerprints.