Back in the kitchen, she fixed a cup of hot chocolate, wishing they hadn’t polished off the Baileys earlier. Craving a Ho Ho after all her excitement, she accepted that the warm mug of chocolate would have to do. Still shivering from being outside in the cool air, she kept her coat on as she stood by the sink and sipped the drink.
Even with her insides finally warmed from the cocoa, she was still too wound up to sleep. She decided to dig out the romance novel she’d borrowed from Lola. Maybe a little escape from reality with a Highland warrior would settle her nerves. Plopping down on the couch, she opened the book.
Though she tried to concentrate, halfway through the first chapter, she was still thinking about Sandy and the lake house. What a great place this was, now that it no longer gave her the creeps. Situated in an isolated cove, it had everything you needed for fun—the boat for fishing, the Jet Ski for playing on the water, and even bike trails around the cove for exercise.
Holy cow, Jordan! Can’t you just sit here and enjoy the stupid book?
Why’d she have to go and start thinking again? Why couldn’t she just let it go, knowing things happen for a reason? Maybe if Sandy stayed in town and wasn’t reminded of her grandfather at every turn, her grief over his death might not be so traumatic. Maybe this was all for the better.
That was bull and Jordan knew it. Sandy loved this place and might never get over it if she didn’t do everything in her power to keep it in the family. Losing her grandfather’s legacy was something she would regret for the rest of her life.
Rats!
Jordan laid the book on the end table and bounced up from the couch. Why did she have to go and think about the bike trail right at this minute? Why couldn’t she just give it a rest?
With the little voice in her head reminding her that she was an idiot, she went to the garage door and turned on the light. She spotted the bikes tucked in the far corner and secretly hoped the tires were flat. A closer look verified that the gods were not with her on this one. Both bikes were in pristine condition. Staring at them, she knew what she had to do even though every brain cell in her head screamed for her to go back to the romance novel and the great-looking Scottish guy in a kilt on the cover.
Choosing the newer-looking bicycle, she guided it out the side door of the garage and into the cool night air. She wrapped her scarf around her mouth and nose, thinking, for once, Lucas Santana had done her a favor by giving it to her.
As Jordan made her way to the bicycle trail Sandy had pointed out earlier, her eyes darted from side to side. She’d lived in Texas all her life and knew the critters came out at night to play.
And to hunt.
Peddling at a medium pace and wondering what if anything she would find on the other side of the cove, Jordan breathed in the wonderful aroma of country night air. The path was wide and the moon provided just enough light. Further from the water now, the fish odor wasn’t as strong. Even though the leaves had already fallen from the trees, the earthy smell of wet vegetation reminded her of midnight hayrides back in Amarillo with everyone bundled up in heavy blankets.
Times like these made her miss living closer to her family, but not enough to entice her to actually move home. She had no desire to live her life with the constant meddling of overprotective brothers.
The loud chirping of the crickets along with the sporadic call of a hoot owl worked like a Ho Ho, calming her nerves and strengthening her determination to resolve this noise thing once and for all. More than likely, she’d find a farmer with sleep issues on the other side of the cove using this time for handyman chores or something equally innocuous.
Or was that wishful thinking?
When she lifted her face to the sky, enjoying the way the wind blew her hair and tickled her ears, her scarf slipped down around her neck. Touching the silky brownish red fabric, she decided Santana must’ve spent a small fortune on it. She could still picture the anger on Bella’s face when the old man had blurted out that he’d bought it because of Jordan’s red hair and bedroom eyes.
Bedroom eyes, my butt! Neither her eyes nor the rest of her would ever be anywhere near Santana’s bedroom. Once again Jordan wondered why a woman who looked like Bella stayed with a man like Lucas Santana.
Was she hoping to get her hands on his money? Lucas had never mentioned any family. Maybe Bella was biding her time, waiting to recoup the losses of basically wasting her twenties to play nursemaid to a pervert like Lucas all these years.
Bella had mentioned she’d been twenty-four when Lucas had nearly lost his leg. She’d been his nurse at the hospital, and when he was discharged, he’d insisted he would make it worth her while if she’d come home and take care of him. Worth her while must’ve cost him a pretty penny, and now, some ten years later, Jordan wondered if Bella still thought the benefits of life with Lucas outweighed the sacrifices.
Or maybe Bella really did love the old guy. Santana’s wife had still been alive when Bella moved in. She had probably turned a blind eye to her husband’s outrageous behavior back then just as Bella did now. She’d bet money on it, convinced she would never truly understand the rules of attraction.
Her attention was diverted as an armadillo crossed the bike trail ahead followed by four younger ones. She braked and watched as the little animals hurried to catch up with their mama. Knowing armadillos always gave birth to four identical babies of the same sex, Jordan wondered if these were girls or boys. Another oddity she didn’t understand.
When they were safely across the trail, she began pedaling and nearly crashed as the pounding started up again. But it wasn’t a soft sound muffled by the lake now. This was a loud and unmistakable thump every few seconds.
And whatever it was, it was right around the bend.
She wanted to turn back but couldn’t. For Sandy’s sake, she had to find a rational explanation for the noise. Jordan prayed whatever was around the corner fit that category.
Rounding the curve, she saw what looked like stadium lights in the distance, off the main road about a hundred yards from her. She approached the turnoff to get there and saw headlights coming directly toward her from the opposite direction.
Gasping, she quickly moved into the shadows of the thick underbrush at the side of the road. As the headlights drew closer, she decided the smart thing to do was to stay hidden. Moving deeper into the brush, she could only hope there weren’t any animals nearby who might be thinking a redheaded Irish girl sounded delicious.
With the full moon shining above, Jordan was able to identify the vehicle as a dark-colored pickup. When it slowed to turn down the gravel road toward the tall lights, she caught a glimpse of the driver, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming out in surprise.
What in the world was Cooper Harrison doing out here in the boonies? Watching the pickup stir up dirt and gravel as it raced toward the lights, she covered her mouth to stifle the cough from the dust.
And why was he hauling a cattle trailer?
She pulled out her cell phone to call Danny, then suddenly closed it. What would she say to her brother? “Hey, Danny, I know it’s two in the morning, but I just saw Cooper hauling a cattle trailer.” In this neck of the woods nearly every pickup had a trailer hitch and hauled either boats or animals. Maybe there was a horse in the trailer behind Cooper’s truck.
She pocketed the phone, thinking there was no way she was going to give her brother that kind of ammunition. She’d have to listen to Danny whine about being awakened for at least a week or two, all because Cooper wanted to ride his stallion in the middle of the night.
Okay, maybe that was a little far-fetched, but Jordan couldn’t think of any other logical explanation for Cooper’s being here, now. Letting her curiosity get the best of her, she wheeled the bike out of the bushes and followed Cooper down the road. Once again, the pounding abruptly ceased, jacking up her anxiety level another notch.
Ten minutes later, she pedaled into a medium-size parking lot with a large warehouselike building on the right.
She spotted Cooper’s navy truck parked close to what looked like a loading ramp. Taking a deep breath, she was instantly sorry because the smell nearly wiped her out. Glancing at the sign that read NORTH TEXAS BEEF DISTRIBUTORS, she realized why.
This was Carole Anne’s company where they processed and packaged beef.
She jumped when she saw Cooper and another man appear at the back of the trailer. Scrambling off to hide behind a tree, she hoped they hadn’t seen her.
Cooper opened the back of the trailer, and the other guy walked up the ramp and disappeared inside. A moment later, he reappeared, leading a cow down the ramp. Cooper hopped up into the trailer, and after a few minutes, he came out, leading another animal. Safely hidden in the shadows, Jordan was mesmerized as the two men led the cows around the side of the building and out of sight.
Cooper offloading cows at a meatpacking plant in the middle of the night could mean only one thing. Since he didn’t raise cattle himself, and he certainly didn’t need to moonlight for extra cash, Jordan realized she was probably witnessing Cooper and the other man in the midst of cattle rustling.
Though stunned, she didn’t hesitate. With shaking hands, she reached for her cell phone to call her brother. He could inform the local police and have them out here in thirty minutes or less.
Crap! There were no signal bars on her phone.
Praying that Cooper and his friend were still on the side of the building, she hopped off the bike and held her hand out as far as she dared without exposing herself.
Still no signal.
She knew she should hightail it back to Sandy’s house and use the landline to call Danny, but her curiosity and the urgency of the situation beat out her better sense. She had to find out what they were doing before they climbed back into the truck and disappeared. If the operation was as slick as Danny and Alex had insinuated, there was a good chance there would be no physical evidence to incriminate Cooper by the time the cops made it out this way.
It took all of two seconds for Jordan to make a decision she hoped wouldn’t be her last one. She had to get pictures so that it wouldn’t matter how much Cooper denied being there. She’d have the evidence that proved he was a liar, and it would no longer be her word against his.
Cursing the full moon she’d been grateful for up until now, Jordan scrambled from her safe spot and took off in a dead run toward the pickup before she lost her courage. The closer she got to the truck the more unbearable the stench became, and she pulled the scarf over her nose. Stopping every few steps to make sure she hadn’t been spotted, she was prepared to bolt if necessary. If what she suspected was true, the critters hiding in the dark were probably a whole lot less dangerous than the criminals who’d arrived in the truck.
When she’d made it to the pickup without setting off some major alarm, she slowed to catch her breath. Glancing up, she noticed security cameras on several of the steel poles in the lot and wondered if someone was watching her every move—waiting for her to get close enough so that escape would be impossible.
Puffing out white smoky breaths into the nippy Texas air, she knew she had to take that chance if she was going to get a photo of Cooper in the act. Besides, if they were watching her, wouldn’t they have already sent someone out to intercept her?
Finally, she talked herself into moving away from the truck and toward where Cooper and his friend had taken the cows. She heard his voice as soon as she got close to the corner of the building, and then there was silence. She inched closer and spied the cows in a large pen, but there was no sign of Cooper or the other guy.
Taking a few steps forward, she was careful to stay in the shadows in case they suddenly reappeared. When she was almost to the pen, she realized they must have gone into the packing plant through a side door. Moving to a window, she took a quick peek.
The large room was empty except for several rows of hanging carcasses off to the left. She figured Cooper and his friend must have gone into a room in the back. Pulling up the scarf to cover more of her nose, she turned back to the pen and snapped several pictures of the cows.
Satisfied she had enough, she decided to head back to the front to hide out in the shadows again and wait for Cooper to come out. That way she could catch him before he got back into his truck. As she turned away, her scarf caught on a nail sticking out from the side of the window and ripped.
Crap!
She’d just found the perfect place to snap a shot of the rustlers that would include the NORTH TEXAS BEEF DISTRIBUTORS sign above the door when she heard the distinct sound of a gunshot, followed by another.
Swallowing a scream, she turned and ran as fast as she could back to the tree where she’d hidden the bike. When her scarf blew off halfway there, she was too frightened to stop and pick it up. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Cooper running from the building and heading for his truck. For a split second their eyes met.
Out of breath, she collapsed in the bushes next to the bike, feeling like her heart was about to thump out of her chest. When her hands finally stopped shaking, she climbed onto the bike and made a mad dash in the opposite direction of Cooper’s pickup, which was now rumbling down the main road, kicking up dirt and gravel.
Taking a quick glimpse back, she watched the truck’s tail lights disappear down the road, and then she pedaled like there really was someone chasing her. She had to get back to Sandy’s before Cooper decided she’d seen too much.
She shivered just thinking about that. Had she really seen anything worth silencing her over? Was it possible Rusty had stumbled onto this and was killed because he, too, had seen too much? What if the gunfire was standard operating procedure in places like this where the meat was processed in the dead of night and Cooper was running because he was simply in a hurry to get out of there?
If so, then why had he driven away like he’d actually seen the Loch Ness monster?
CHAPTER 19
By the time she reached Sandy’s house, Jordan was out of breath, and her nose was so cold she could barely feel it. Guiding the bike back through the side door of the garage, she put it in the corner next to the other one, then raced into the house to see if her cell phone worked.
There were two bars.
She quickly dialed Danny’s number, glancing up at the ornate fish-shaped clock on the wall. It was almost three. After five rings, he finally picked up.
“Danny, you have to come to Sandy’s house now. I saw Cooper with stolen cows, and then I heard gunshots.” She stopped to take a breath.
“Jordan? What the hell are you doing calling me at three in the morning?”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” She flopped down on the couch and grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa, wrapping it around her legs.
“I don’t hear so good when you babble on like that. What’s so freaking important that it couldn’t wait till—say, ten?”
Jordan repeated the information.
“First, how do you know the cows were stolen?”
She heard excitement creeping into Danny’s voice as the information finally registered. She pictured him jumping up from the couch and reaching for his jeans.
“Ouch! Hold on. My foot got caught in my pants and I darn near wiped myself out.” A minute later he began again. “Are you and Sandy safe, or do I need to call the Texoma security patrol and have them get over there ASAP?”
“We’re safe right now,” Jordan said, popping up to recheck the locks on all the doors just in case. “I can’t be sure, but I think Cooper may have seen me.”
“Jesus! Make sure the doors are locked. I should be there in about thirty-five or forty minutes with the Ranchero cops. They have jurisdiction in that cove.”
Jordan hung up and slumped back onto the couch. It didn’t make any sense to wake up Sandy until the last minute, and even then, it was probably not going to be easy.
What a waste of a good sleeping pill! Jordan thought, tapping her foot on the carpet while she waited.
She reac
hed for the romance novel on the end table, but after five minutes of staring at the same word, she decided it was a losing battle. If only she’d thought to bring a crossword puzzle to occupy her mind, but then, she sucked at those kinds of things, anyway.
The earlier scene kept playing over and over in her mind. She wanted to believe there was a logical reason for Cooper to be hauling cattle to a processing plant at this time of night.
One that didn’t involve theft and possibly murder.
She straightened up when a more ominous thought occurred to her. Cooper had been alone when he’d run from the building and driven away. What happened to the man who had arrived with him? Had he been on the other end of a bullet? For a second, a flash of guilt creeped over her. She should have stayed to find out if anyone needed help, especially after she saw Cooper leave.
But she’d been too frightened, and she wasn’t totally convinced the gunfire meant someone was even hurt. What if she’d walked into the plant right in the middle of a crime going down? Just thinking about it made her shudder.
No, she’d done the only thing she could: hauled butt and called her brother. It was comforting to know he was on his way.
Her thoughts wandered back to Cooper. Given the very real possibility he had just killed his partner in the cattle-rustling ring, his involvement in Rusty’s death was looking more and more probable. He’d been close enough to Rusty at the Cattlemen’s Ball to slip him the poison.
When she’d first suspected he might be Rusty’s killer, she’d assumed the motive had been Carole Anne. Cooper had flirted with Jordan outrageously that night, yet she remembered the way his nostrils flared and his eyes flashed anger every time Carole Anne looked Rusty’s way, though he’d pretended not to notice. Now it seemed there might be a less passionate reason for murder than the proverbial green monster.
Money could make the most honest of men do strange things. Maybe Cooper wanted to be the one calling the shots and decided to take matters into his own hands.
Beef Stolen-Off Page 17
