Twice A Target (Task Force Eagle)

by Susan Vaughan

  Will fished a hunk of carrot from a hanging pouch. He gave Holt a wide grin. “I’m too soft with these animals.”

  “Riggs. That’s the fellow’s name? The one who left?”

  “K.C. Riggs. He showed up in a small RV. That was the first odd thing.”

  That he might finally be onto something started a twitch in Holt’s jaw. None of the other ranchers had sensed anything unusual in their help. Transient hands were typically young cowboys on the circuit, guys who worked wherever they could during the week so they could travel to the next weekend rodeo. “Odd, how?”

  “He stayed in his RV, not in the bunkhouse. He was friendly enough with the other hands, but mostly kept to himself. Real private. Almost secretive.”

  Holt’s cop senses clicked to alert. “Did you tell the sheriff this?”

  “It didn’t come up. He just wanted the name, when he worked here, when he left.”

  “And that was?”

  “The day after Rob was killed.” Will’s russet brows drew together in thought. “Gave no notice, no warning. He up and left before anyone else here had their boots on—without his pay. I did tell the sheriff that.”

  Holt’s excitement grew. He scooped up a handful of clean woodchips from a nearby wheelbarrow and let them drift between his fingers. “ ‘First odd thing,’ you said. What else was odd about Riggs?”

  Will leaned on the stall door. He lifted his hat, dragged a hand through his hair and adjusted the hat again. “What with building the stable and all, I never got around to examining his paperwork until he’d left. A buddy in the Federal Building helped me research his identity. Riggs’s Social Security number didn’t check out. It belonged to K.C. Riggs all right, but to a K.C. Riggs who died in 1985.”

  “You mean the man had a phony ID?” Holt squeezed his hand closed, crushing the wood chips to dust. “You did tell the sheriff about that.” The first real lead, and he should have already known about it.

  “I telephoned as soon as I discovered the problem,” Will said. “Talked to my brother. Said they’d get right on it. Foley or Luke didn’t tell you about that development?”

  Holt’s throat tightened. “The sheriff has no obligation to tell me how he’s conducting the investigation. I have no official status here.” I’m only the dead man’s damn brother. ‘Sorry for your freaking loss.’ He flung the mangled wood chips back into the wheelbarrow.

  The dun mare’s nostrils flared, and she tossed her head. Will smoothed a hand down her nose. “Easy, girl. It’s okay.”

  Holt headed toward the other end of the stable, the one leading to the corral. “I didn’t mean to upset your horse.”

  Will caught up to him, waved off the apology. “Luke’s supposed to show up this afternoon after his shift. You could ask him about Riggs.”

  This might be Holt’s chance to dig into Luke’s issues. He cinched up his resentment toward the sheriff and drew a deep breath. “Maybe. Luke’s problems in Denver have anything to do with Chris Hawke?”

  Confusion creased Will’s forehead. “Can’t imagine how they would. Why?”

  Holt described the tense exchange between the two men in the sheriff’s office, how each man had implied deceit on the part of the other. “What’s that all about?”

  “You’ll have to ask him. I know about as much of what’s goes on in my brother’s head as I do in a mustang’s. Luke’s always kept to himself. More so since he came home.” As they rounded the barn, Will stopped Holt with a hand on his shoulder. “Luke would have no reason to kill your brother and his wife.”

  “Like I said, I suspect no one and everyone. I’m just tossing a wide loop to see what it catches.”

  Chapter 14

  At the corral Faith Rafferty lifted a hand from her metal walker and beckoned eagerly. “Hey, Holt. You have to see this.” Her sturdy build and coloring marked her as part of the clan, for sure. Her brown hair was tied back in a single braid. She guided Holt’s attention to the activity in the corral.

  Faith dealt with friends and with the kids, but on her own oblique terms. He reckoned she’d had a hard time adjusting to her physical limitations. The pain in her brown eyes likely didn’t stem from strictly physical causes. But the youngest Rafferty sibling greeted him with a warm smile.

  Surgery and therapy for extensive muscle and nerve damage must be damned expensive. This family had its troubles, reasons for needing money, but he couldn’t see how Rob turning down Will’s offer was a motive for murder. Developing Ghost Mountain would be a long-term project, not instant cash.

  At this point, though, he wouldn’t eliminate anyone or any reason.

  “Try again, Maddy,” Faith called. “Maybe you can rope that fence post before it gets away.”

  “Lessons in lassoing are always prime entertainment. Slick’s a good teacher,” Will murmured to Holt. “Don’t drag her away just yet.”

  “I’m starting to get the hang of this.” Maddy adjusted her gloves and picked up her rope from the dusty ground.

  Holt tipped his hat to her. He didn’t know what to say. They were supposed to be engaged, but how did you act engaged? Should he grab her butt or bend her over for a lusty kiss? Maybe carry her off over his shoulder? The images stirred his blood, but no way would Maddy thank him for caveman tactics.

  Four children ranging in age from about six to twelve were attempting to build loops with thin lengths of kids’ roping. A smooth-cheeked young cowboy in a new slant-crowned black hat helped the oldest boy ready his.

  “Now build that loop before you swing it, ace,” Slick said. “You want it to sing through the air.”

  The gangly boy weighed the loop in his right hand and held the coil in his left. He bit his lower lip as he stared down the wooden dummy steer. He tossed the rope.

  “Good throw, Brian,” Will yelled.

  The loop snaked out toward the “steer.” It settled over the pair of horns and caught. “Whoohoo! I did it!”

  Flinging her hat in the air, Maddy gave a cheerleader’s leap for the excited youngster. She urged him to bow to his clapping fans, the kids as well as the adults. In a greening pasture beyond, a horse neighed as if in approval.

  Brian beamed as if he’d won an Olympic gold medal, and Holt smiled at Maddy’s ease with the boy. Her cheeks glowed pink with pleasure.

  Leaving the kid to unhook his rope and prepare to toss again, Slick cocked his head at Maddy. He ambled closer.

  Judging from the cowboy’s lazy-lidded look, Maddy’s awkward grip on her loop wasn’t his only interest. Hot steel pierced Holt when the suitably named Slick put his arms around her on the pretext of guiding her toss.

  “That’s it, Maddy, keep that honda secure but loose in your right hand,” the fucking Romeo said as he eased both arms around her. One long-fingered hand slid the length of her slim arm. “Give enough slack to the coil in your other hand.”

  Hell, was he trying to climb into her skin? Holt braced one foot on the lower rail, poised to vault into the corral.

  “Whoa, hoss.” Will chuckled. “Your woman’s safe. Slick knows better’n to rustle another man’s brand.”

  Holt gave a sharp nod and forced himself to remain where he was. Your woman. In spite of the cowpoke jargon, Will had it right. Holt was acting engaged after all. Or was he acting? His feelings and his behavior didn’t bear examination.

  “And build my loop before I toss. I know.” Maddy squinted, pursing her lips in a thoughtful pout. A maddeningly sexy pout, dammit. She adjusted her grasp of the honda, the eye the loop passed through. Slick stepped back out of the way and she swung her arm.

  Holt let out the breath he wasn’t conscious of holding.

  Her rope whirred through the air toward the dummy. The leading edge snared one horn but slid to the ground.

  “Whoa, you almost had ‘er.” Her hot-eyed teacher clapped her on the back. “That’s the closest yet.”

  After retrieving her rope and her hat, she ruffled the boy Brian’s curly hair. “Guess I need more practic
e to be as good a roper as you.”

  He grinned with his whole body, like an eager puppy wagging a stubby tail. “You keep trying. You’ll get it too.”

  “Another time.” She handed her rope to Slick and removed her gloves. “Thanks for all your help. That was fabulous.”

  When she pumped the cowboy’s hand instead of giving him the expected hug, Holt relaxed. Nobody threw herself into a new experience more than Maddy. Nobody enjoyed it more. At times sadness clouded her eyes, but dark emotion couldn’t repress her natural vivacity. In the child that mercurial personality had annoyed him. In the woman it captivated him.

  When Maddy joined the other adults outside the corral, Holt was smiling at her. A surprise, but was the greeting welcome? Or pride? Though why he should be proud of her for playing with the kids while he slogged around the shooting scene with the deputies eluded her. Passing her time with the lasso had quelled her jittery nerves. Two confrontations with death in two days were two more than a person should have in a lifetime. At least the landslide had been an accident.

  No remorse would chip at her pleasure in accomplishment. Wait until he found out what else she’d done with her time.

  She gave Holt a bright smile as she joined Will, Faith, and him outside the corral.

  “You’re a quick study.” Holt edged to her side and slid an arm around her shoulders. “Good control.”

  She went as still as a fence post. Her breath caught on his masculine scent. A curl of heat slid through her. So much for control. “Thanks.”

  “Hey, you two, congratulations on your engagement,” Will said. “That all got lost in the earlier to-do.”

  “Yes, when’s the happy day?” Faith asked softly. She turned her walker to face them.

  Maddy’s shocked pleasure at Holt’s affection thudded to a sudden stop. He was acting. It was the engagement pretext. Not her. Okay, let him answer the question.

  “We have some things to figure out first. We haven’t set a date yet.” Holt’s big hand squeezed her shoulder as though daring her to contradict him.

  She nearly blurted out a date just to irk him, but just in time remembered that her big mouth and not his had dumped them into this fix.

  She smiled at Faith. “Thanks for letting me in on the roping lesson. It was great fun.” She winked at her friend. “I’ve been after Holt to let me help with the branding this weekend. Maybe I can rope calves with Bronc now.”

  “Branding weekend, huh?” Will asked. “You fixed for all the help you need?”

  “We’ll manage.” Holt’s expression slid from open to defensive. His hand stilled on her shoulder.

  Maddy jabbed him with her elbow. “Barely. It’s Espie’s sons and me, but Holt and Bronc are the only ones who know one end of a branding iron from the other.”

  “I could spare a couple of guys for the day.” Will took off his hat and resettled it on his head. “Luke’s a fair hand with a reata.”

  Jaw working against his pride, Holt appeared to let the idea take root. “I don’t like to be beholden, and I can’t pay. Sure could use another roper though.” He gave Maddy a rueful look. “One with experience.”

  Maddy shrugged, pleased Holt was considering the offer. She’d find some other way to edge into the action.

  “Hell, I don’t expect payment. In money.” Will tilted his head back and laughed, an explosion of mirth as large as the man. “I hope you’ll return the favor. Next weekend hundreds of Cowboy Action shooters will descend on this place. I could use some extra hands then myself.”

  Holt let his hand drop, and Maddy rued the loss of warmth. “I think I remember that. Don’t the shooters use Old West style guns like Colt .45’s?”

  Will nodded. “Single-action revolvers and lever action rifles or vintage shotguns.”

  “Mounted competitions use blanks with black powder, but for the target shooting we use live ammunition. It’s great fun,” Faith added. “Everyone dresses in Old West outfits, and the contestants have colorful aliases like Comanche Sam or Deadeye Donovan.” She sent Holt a tentative smile.

  “Bronc Baker’s your man, but that kind of play-acting’s not for me,” Holt said, holding up his hands in defense. “Those shooting scenarios remind me too much of the real thing.” He offered the ranch manager his hand. “I’ll take you up on your offer, then, Will. I won’t shoot, but I don’t mind helping out some other way next weekend.”

  “Count me in.” Maddy stepped forward. “I wouldn’t miss a great show for the world.”

  “But what about Bobby?” Holt cast her a puzzled look.

  Faith chuckled. “Not a problem. We have babysitting services all arranged. Do come.”

  “I even have a business deal for you, Maddy,” Will said. “Word is you’re a professional photographer. That right?”

  “She has articles in international magazines,” Holt announced.

  Maddy blinked at the pride in his voice. Pride, not criticism. Peeling her gaze from him, she turned to Will. If his interest meant money, she was all ears. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Next weekend’s match is a tri-state competition. The organization’s regional governor was sending a photographer, but he got sick. We need publicity shots. If you’re game, we can pay you well.”

  When he named a generous fee, she said, “You bet. I’d love it.” She glanced up at Holt. He suspected she’d bolt if she had enough money. Would he trust her with Bobby after next weekend? “How about it? I can take time out now and then to check in on the baby.”

  His expression didn’t give away his thoughts, but he’d lowered his hat brim to shade his eyes. “Fine with me. You do what you want.”

  “Spending the day here will give you another chance to see the workings of the Circle-S. Get to know more about the investment you’re considering.” Will beamed at Maddy.

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. You have a wonderful operation here.” She turned to Holt, hoping he didn’t construe her praise as a desire to leave his household. And Bobby. And him. “Ready to go?”

  Holt nodded. After thanking Will for his help, he urged Maddy to prepare for the ride home.

  “You sure you don’t want someone to drive you? We can load up the horses in the van,” Will said.

  “We’ll be fine.”

  Maddy squared her shoulders. She could be as stoic as Holt. “Now that the deputies have tramped all over the valley, that shooter’s long gone.”

  Will and Faith remained with Slick and the kids, who continued their lasso lessons. One of the hands accompanied Holt and Maddy to the stable to retrieve their horses.

  They rode in silence until they reached the valley. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the grassy meadow, and Maddy snapped her collar against the cool air. A lone hawk piloted the air currents above Ghost Mountain.

  “Tell me more about this investment in the Circle-S. You know I have concerns about some of the Raffertys. Does that put you in the middle?” He stared straight ahead, his back as stiff as his pride.

  She edged her mare closer to him and described the terms of her grandparents’ will. “I’ve made no decisions and I have no connection to the Raffertys themselves. The only home I have is a storage unit near my parents’ condo.” She paused, pondering, but opted for honesty. “I’d been thinking about a home base in this valley. If Faith hadn’t contacted me about Rob’s death, I’d have come anyway. To scope out the possibilities.”

  He cast her a cynical look. “The jet-set life losing its appeal?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact. I’m torn between wanting to help people with my skills and wanting my own home and family. The Circle-S seemed the logical place, but it might not work out.”

  “Living at the Circle-S.” He seemed to mull that over. “Any reason you didn’t mention it before?”

  “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.”

  He made no response to that, walking his horse on in silence.

  His reticence made sense, but she desperately wanted his respo
nse. She had to say something to jar him out of his funk. “Too bad Luke is coming to help Bronc with the calf roping. I hoped to get in some practice.”

  “Branding is serious business. You can go back to your fast-handed pal if you want roping practice.” His voice rasped like rocks on sandpaper.

  Fast-handed? What in the world?

  Little wings fluttered in her stomach. But no, Holt couldn’t possibly be jealous. More likely he resented her being away from Bobby all this time. Best to change the subject. “Did you learn anything helpful about the man who ambushed us?”

  “Some.” As they approached the scene of the crime, he described the deputies’ canvas of the area and the bullets they dislodged from the aspen. “And while you were playing around with Pretty Boy Slick, I learned more by downing a cerveza and touring the new stable with Will.” He tilted his head and scowled at her.

  So it was possessive sniping after all. A glow of warmth tingled in her belly and the wings beat faster. She gave him a slow wink. “Bet what I picked up dancing the lasso tango is juicier than you got swilling beer.” She settled her hat firmly on her head.

  Maybe it wasn’t smart, given what had happened to them going the other direction, but she just couldn’t help herself. “Race you.”

  As her mare lurched into action, her last glimpse of Holt was of his gaping mouth.

  Chapter 15

  Holt caught up with Maddy in the barn as she was unsaddling Chica. He’d deliberately hung back to quell the storm raging inside him.

  Her impetuosity had cornered him into accepting help. Or maybe she’d planned it. Maddy plan? Maybe. But that wasn’t what put a burr under his saddle. She’d gone racing off across that field with no thought to the possibility of the gunman’s return. Having her around would turn his hair white.

  Once this custody problem with Bobby ended, she’d leave. But what if she went only as far as the Circle-S? Not that he ought to care. Aggravating woman. He shook his head.