Zack (Armed and Dangerous Book 1)

by Cheyenne McCray

  Wayland filled Zack in on what he knew and his own theories. He mentioned he’d had a similar discussion with Luke Rider.

  “Do you trust the man?” Zack said in a low voice so that Sky wasn’t likely to hear.

  “You know as well as I do that in law enforcement you hold some of the cards close to your chest,” Wayland said. “I have a feeling Rider’s doing the same thing.”

  “Something about the man strikes me as off.” Zack walked farther into the kitchen, away from Sky. “He’s holding back more than a few cards.”

  “I cover my bases,” Wayland said in a slow drawl. “And my ass.”

  “Smart man,” Zack said. He imagined he was also being checked out by Wayland while the sheriff was looking into Rider’s background.

  After he ended the call with the sheriff, Zack opened the fridge and pulled out whole wheat bread, ham, tomatoes, lettuce, mayo, and mustard. “You ready for that sandwich?” he called out to Sky.

  “Sure.”

  As he threw together their lunch, he asked, “How about some of that iced tea you’ve got in the fridge? And maybe a couple of ibuprofen to go with it?”

  She gave a soft groan. “Make that a double on the meds.”

  When Zack was finished, he picked up the paper plates filled with thick ham sandwiches and barbeque potato chips he’d grabbed out of the pantry. He carried them to the living room and handed Sky her plate while setting his own on the ironwood coffee table. After he retrieved the pain reliever, paper cups of tea, and paper towels to use for napkins, he sat at the opposite end of the couch.

  “So what was that call all about?” Sky asked in between bites of her sandwich. “Why were you discussing the rustling situation?”

  “I’m going to meet with Wayland on Monday,” Zack said. “Got a couple of notions that I’d like to discuss with him.” He crunched a potato chip before he spoke again. “Wayland mentioned someone went after your bull, before the dance.”

  “Yeah, that’s what it looked like.” Sky gave a scowl.

  Zack went into his theories with her and she listened intently while eating her sandwich and drinking her iced tea.

  When he finished, Sky said, “I can see the rustlers slaughtering the cattle they’ve been stealing.” She shook her head. “But I bought Satan at top dollar to help build my herd and my ranch’s reputation, and now someone’s trying to take him. And for what? Hamburger? Not likely.”

  Sky set her plate down on an ironwood end table and crossed her arms over her chest. “I think they want him because he’s valuable,” she continued. “Of course Satan’s registered with the American Angus Association. His pedigreed name is Black Ice Hellfire’s Satan. He’s the offspring of Black Ice on High Lonesome and Donovan’s Apache Tears from Flagstaff—one hell of a match.” She shook her head and uncrossed her arms. “But Satan’s not worth a damn thing if the thieves don’t have his pedigree papers.

  “Oh, shit.” Her jaw dropped and it felt like an icy wind rushed over her. “Maybe—maybe that was why Blue was poisoned, so someone could get by him and into the barn office. That’s where I keep all the pedigrees.”

  Zack focused his attention on Sky, his eyes now gunmetal gray.

  Sky felt like she was babbling as a sort of jitteriness took hold of her. “I’m usually in and out of the office during the weekdays, but what with Blue getting sick, going to the dance, twisting my ankle, the cattle rustling—” Christ, the past two days all she’d been able to do was think about Zack and the dance. “I’ve been preoccupied.” She glanced down at her ankle. “This week I never had a chance to make it into the office.

  “That’s why they might have tried to take Satan Friday night,” she went on. “If they have his papers...” She forced herself to release her clenched fists. “God, I hope I’m wrong and the office wasn’t hit the night Blue was poisoned. Like I said, too much has happened this week and I just didn’t make it to the office.”

  Zack had a grim expression. “We need to check it out just in case you’re right.”

  Sky tried to push herself up by bringing her injured foot off the hassock and onto the floor.

  “No, you don’t.” Zack’s big hand caught her around her upper arm. “Whether you like it or not, I’m going to help you so you don’t hurt that ankle any worse than you already have.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t been thinking clearly. As bad as her ankle was, she couldn’t climb down the stairs without a little help, even with her crutches.

  While he grabbed her crutches, her heart pounded. Had someone been in her office? Taken anything that was valuable to her?

  “Hey,” she said as he lifted her into his arms while she held on to her crutches with one hand. “I just need help down. You don’t need to carry me.”

  “Shut up and enjoy the ride.”

  “Yeah. Enjoy the ride,” she said as she pictured her office.

  He got her down the steps before resting her on the ground on her good foot and helping her balance on her crutches. She made her way to the barn as fast as the crutches allowed her to, gritting her teeth as she moved.

  The usual smells of hay, sweet oats, dust, and manure hit her as soon as she stood inside the doorway. Her horses whickered on their side of the barn and Satan bawled on his. Sky let her eyes adjust to the shadowed barn before Zack supported her the rest of the way on to the hard-packed earth floor.

  When they reached the office door, Sky felt a hint of relief when she tried the antique brass doorknob and found it locked. “I’ve got a key hidden nearby,” she said as she pointed toward an old U.S. Cavalry feed bag hanging from a rusted meat hook, next to several other antique items she kept tacked to the wall by the office. “No one knows about it.”

  “Anyone else have access?” Zack said as he helped her balance while she dug into the bottom of the feed bag.

  “Just Luke.” She clasped her hand around the key in seconds and Zack got her back to the office door.

  Zack took the key from her, inserted it, and twisted the knob. He pushed the heavy oak door open on its well-oiled hinges.

  Her heart took a nosedive at the same time his voice dropped, anger inflected in every word. “Looks like you’ve had a visitor.”

  “No.” Sky felt like ants crawled up and down her spine as she grabbed the door frame and looked inside. “Oh no.”

  As always the rich oak-paneled room smelled of lemon oil that she used on the solid oak desk that had been around since the days of the Old West. The office also smelled of leather from the oxblood brown overstuffed leather couch and chairs, as well as halters and saddles hanging in the back.

  Sky could barely process what she was seeing. Instead of the clean, well-cared-for office, the place was a disaster. The computer’s flat-screen monitor lay face down on the glossy surface of the desk. Broken glass from the family photos glittered in the dim light. Paper was scattered over every surface from the coffee table to the floor.

  She cut her gaze to the huge metal file cabinets that were normally locked and closed—only now every single drawer was open and folders were tossed everywhere.

  “Christ.” The word came out like an explosion from Zack. He wrapped his hand around Sky’s upper arm and held her back when she tried to enter the room. “Don’t touch anything. We’ve got to call this in and have the county sheriff’s office dust the place for fingerprints and check for any clues the bastard may have left behind.”

  Zack withdrew his cell phone from its clip on his belt with his free hand. Sky felt almost dizzy from the shock of the violation.

  She held her palm to her queasy stomach and eased back on her crutches, out of the doorway.

  She barely heard Zack’s voice as he got through to Sheriff Wayland and rattled off the information with unemotional professionalism.

  After he’d fed the sheriff what little information they knew right now, Zack reholstered his phone and released his hold on Sky to wrap his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s take you inside the house.”


  “No, Zack.” Sky tried to shake him off. “This is my property the son of a bitch destroyed. And I want to know what he’s taken.”

  Zack studied her for one long moment with narrowed eyes and his lips drawn tight. “All right,” he finally said, “but we’re going to get you off your feet.”

  He guided her toward several bales of alfalfa and she didn’t protest. Her ankle throbbed and the pounding in her head began to match the tempo.

  When they reached a hay bale, he grabbed a clean saddle pad out of a large trunk and stretched it out on a bale. She let him help arrange her so that her leg with the injured ankle was resting on the pad covering the bale. Her ankle screamed with pain and her eyes watered. She definitely could use some of the pain reliever the ER doc had prescribed. Too bad she hadn’t had the prescription filled.

  The smell of the fresh alfalfa was strong as she stared into Satan’s stall, where thankfully the bull was still tethered. The yearling was too difficult to control and had bashed the stall door open three or four times, so they’d been forced to tether him. The thick nylon rope was long enough for him to be comfortable to sleep, eat, drink, and move around but short enough to keep him from slamming his head into the stall door and maybe even hurting himself.

  His eyes flashed like black diamonds in the barn’s low lighting as he stared at her. He bawled, probably ready for his feed. It was right about the time she fed the barn stock. The hands took care of the rest of the ranch.

  Sky called Luke on her cell and he was at the barn in no time. The man’s expression was virtually unreadable as she spelled everything out, but he gave off such an intense aura of anger that it almost made her shrink back from him.

  Luke got on his cell and called in every ranch hand to be questioned once the sheriff and his deputies arrived.

  It wasn’t long before Sheriff Wayland, Gary Woods, and three other deputies made it to the ranch. They wore the traditional county sheriff department’s tan uniforms, tan felt western hats, and boots. Thick belts held their guns along with other things—pepper spray, she supposed, and extra rounds. Batons, handcuffs, cell phones, and radio microphones were clipped to their shoulders.

  Sky had been introduced to Clay Wayland, the new sheriff, not too long ago. He had crystalline green eyes, sable hair and mustache, and was built like a quarterback. Broad shoulders and a powerful frame, but lean and athletic.

  Of course she knew Gary fairly well. She’d also run into the young and dark-haired Deputy Quinn two or three times. He reminded her of a currently popular country-western star out of Nashville.

  The other two men she’d never met. Deputy Blalock was blond, thin, wiry, and sported a goatee. Deputy Garrison blinked a whole lot, like he wore contacts that were bothering him, and had a small paunch that rolled over the top of his uniform pants.

  “Why do you need so many deputies for one little break-in, Sheriff?” Sky asked after she’d been introduced to the deputies.

  “Call me Clay.” The sheriff dragged his hand over his mustache before he answered. His green eyes turned almost jade in color. “There have been a couple of similar occurrences and we’re working to determine whether or not the rustlings and burglaries are related or separate issues.”

  Garrison and Blalock set to fingerprinting the office and searching the scene for other evidence while Quinn took photos.

  Gary Woods and Sheriff Wayland interviewed everyone at the ranch to find out if they saw or heard anything, and to find out where everyone was during the time they thought the break-in had occurred.

  Sky thought she was going to go out of her mind while she waited for the men to be done in her office so that she could see what was missing.

  When her back started to ache and her ankle throbbed, she leaned against the hay bale behind her. The alfalfa at her back pricked her through her T-shirt and a light coat of perspiration from the late-summer heat made her whole body feel sticky. She wanted a shower in the worst way.

  Grouchy, hungry, and thirsty, Sky decided she was going to get up despite the blaring pain in her ankle. According to the time on her cell phone, over an hour had passed since the sheriff and his men had arrived.

  Just as she started to swing her leg from on top of the bale and onto the ground, Zack took her by complete surprise when he showed up with a thermos of lemonade and a paper sack.

  “Figured the guys might be hungry,” he said as he set the jug and sack on the bale. Turned out the sack was filled with more ham sandwiches. He’d also brought out of the house enough plastic cups and plates to go around. “Only took me fifteen minutes to throw this together, so don’t expect anything special.” Zack handed her a filled cup. After she drained her icy cold lemonade she gave a satisfied sigh. “You might be worth keeping around,” she said before she knew what she was saying.

  Zack’s dangerous smile had her biting the inside of her cheek. She looked away and looked toward her office.

  Damn the man.

  After the sheriff and his deputies were finished with their interviews, and had arranged for everyone to go to the station to be printed, they gathered around where Sky was seated.

  “Found quite a few prints,” Blalock said. “We’ll need to compare them to yours, Ms. MacKenna, to weed them out from potential suspects.”

  “Didn’t see anything else too unusual.” Quinn held up a plastic bag containing a chunk of yellow dirt. “But we’ll check out this clump we picked up near the doorway.”

  “Doesn’t match the soil around here,” Zack said as he studied it. “Yellow instead of reddish brown.”

  The sheriff launched into a discussion about the intruder in the barn Friday night and how he figured the two had to be related.

  The men enthusiastically chowed down on their sandwiches and drank their cups of lemonade. Outside it had turned dark, and a cooler breeze swept in from one end of the barn to another.

  It was Sky’s turn to figure out if anything had been stolen. Zack handed the crutches to her before she went into the room.

  Her stomach turned at the sight of the wrecked office. At the same time, anger rose up in her so fast her ears burned. Whoever did this was so going to pay. She’d make darn sure they did once they were caught.

  Payroll and accounting pages had been tossed on the floor along with other ranch records dating back to her great-grandfather’s time. The old papers had been kept in leather-bound binders and had always meant a lot to her. “I should have put these in a bank safe,” she said as she carefully scooped the papers into a pile.

  For some reason she’d been saving looking at her pedigree papers for last—maybe because she already knew what she’d find.

  “Yeah, Satan’s are gone.” Her throat ached as she rifled through the file folders and she had the sudden urge to cry. “The papers for my thoroughbred Quarter Horses, too.” God, this was all too much. She looked at Zack. “Why did they take those papers? Are they going to start going after my Quarter Horse breeding stock, too?”

  “I don’t know.” Zack gripped the edge of her file cabinet drawer. “The way your ranch’s old records were shredded—that wasn’t just theft or vandalism. That was deliberate.”

  Zack slammed his palm on the filing cabinet that gave a hollow ring. “And it was personal.”

  Chapter 14

  Monday, the afternoon following the discovery of the break-in, Sky frowned as she sat behind the ancient desk in the ranch’s office. Her crutches leaned against one of the oak-paneled walls and Blue had taken up vigil next to the office’s open door.

  On the desktop, next to an egg salad sandwich, she had a chilled plastic bottle of water sitting on a coaster made from old bottle glass. After finding the office ransacked, she was making sure she had her S&W with her. It was in the small holster at the side of her denim shorts beneath a shirt she’d left untucked.

  If it weren’t for her ankle, she’d be off riding on her property in the afternoon sunshine. Whenever she needed to escape, she took off with Empress and Blue aft
er filling the saddlebags with lunch and treats for her and the horse and dog. They’d head out at a gallop. Sky would feel the teasing play of the wind whipping her hair, the power of the Quarter Horse beneath her, the freedom of riding across the range.

  But no. Not only did she have to worry about her ankle, she had things to attend to.

  Like this whole freaking mess.

  Normally the scents of lemon oil and citrus air freshener made the office brighter, cheerier. Today some kind of dark smell seemed to hang over everything. Like the invasion had tainted the room.

  The leather chair springs squeaked as she twisted a little to the side—an action she immediately regretted from the renewed throbbing in her ankle. She bit her lip, then sucked in her breath. She had some painkillers in the first-aid kit in the office’s bathroom. Unfortunately that meant getting up and she didn’t feel up to it.

  God, she felt so violated from the break-in. It tore at her insides like a garden rake to see so much of the ranch’s past reduced to piles of shredded pages and broken artifacts that included a hundred-year-old kerosene lantern and a collection of Apache arrowheads that had been discovered right on the Flying M Ranch.

  She picked up the framed portrait of her mother, Nina MacKenna, taken when Nina had been so vibrant and alive. She’d had a full, round face and rounded curves, and a smile that had always made Sky feel like everything was going to be okay.

  Until the end.

  Sky brushed the back of one hand over her eyes. The photo was nearly destroyed the way the glass had been smashed.

  Zack was right—this had been personal.

  Who the hell did I piss off?

  “If I knew I’d so kick their asses,” she said in such a sharp tone that Blue raised his head and looked at her.

  Did this have anything to do with the rustling?

  Sky had never been one for too many tears, but she found herself fighting them back. She smoothed her fingertips over the worn and now-destroyed binding that had held ranch records from the late 1800s. Detailed income and expense reports had been kept in the ledgers. Her great-great-grandfather had handwritten purchases and sales of livestock, equipment, and feed, as well as breeding records and pedigrees.