Cowboy Justice

by Patricia Rosemoor

“YOU MIGHT AS WELL WAIT for me in the garden where you can relax,” Cash suggested.

  Though he and Reine had driven their own vehicles, they’d arrived at his place at the same time. Reine had seemed to be wound up, all nerves. And at the moment, she was wandering around the living room aimlessly.

  “Isn’t there anything useful I can do while you shower?” she asked.

  To relieve the tension, he purposely said, “Scrub my back?”

  But she didn’t turn into the blushing beauty he loved to tease. The flashing of her eyes told him clearly how much he’d annoyed her.

  “I was thinking more along the lines of calling your hotshot private investigator to see if he came up with anything.”

  “I already did that. I called from the truck and spoke to Steven directly.”

  He’d also picked up his messages, but hadn’t yet gotten back to a business associate who’d left him half a dozen and was making him real nervous. He meant to place a return call as soon as he got Reine out of the way.

  “And?” she asked. “What did he learn?”

  “Nothing on Selena Cullen yet. Evan Bixler’s another story.”

  “Long version short,” she requested.

  “Bixler has certain friends the government doesn’t exactly approve of.”

  “Which government?”

  “The feds. These friends are into selling illegal product at high gain and Bixler is a suspect.”

  “Of drug trafficing?”

  “Of money laundering,” Cash clarified. “He seems to have more money than his businesses suggest he can make from them. And he keeps diversifying, buying new ones.”

  “So that’s why he made that bid on Matlock Construction. What’s our plan?”

  “At the moment, Steven Kessler is having his best investigator shadow Bixler.”

  “I mean for us.”

  “I haven’t decided yet.” Getting impatient, Cash started toward the gallery, saying, “If you’re hungry, the kitchen is that way.”

  “After all that food I ate at the pueblo? You must be kidding. But everything was spicy, so I could use something to drink.”

  “Help yourself.”

  Still seeming distracted, Reine finally left him alone and Cash detoured straight into his office where he finally placed that call.

  Once connected, he said, “So talk!” without any preamble.

  “I need to see you,” the man on the other end said. “Now.”

  He knew the what—Matlock Ranch—but not the why.

  “Sounds urgent.”

  “In persoral ”

  Cash thought quickly. He’d have to get away from Reine without arousing her suspicions. And then he would settle this matter once and for all.

  “All right,” he agreed. “I’ve got to clean up, but I’ll meet you at your place in an hour.”

  “The sooner the better.”

  After hanging up, Cash called Steven Kessler & Associates and lucked into the excuse he needed to ditch Reine for a while. He headed for the kitchen, which took up nearly one whole side of the house. He’d built it inside/outside, to be open to the courtyard and the oversize brick grill, which Reine was inspecting.

  “We cook all our meats out here,” he told her.

  “A side of beef at a time?”

  “Only when we have guests.”

  Pirouetting to take in the garden, she wistfully said, “Talk about kitchens I’d like to spend time in....”

  “That can be arranged.”

  For a brief moment, he visualized her happy laughter ringing through the large room as she learned to cook traditional dishes from his mother.

  Then he remembered why he’d set out to find her in the first place. “I just talked to Kessler. It seems that Selena Cullen has finally turned up.”

  “Where?”

  “Enchanted. I figured we’d pay her a visit.”

  She gave him a once-over. “You want to go looking like that?”

  “What? You don’t think she’d appreciate the construction-worker aspect?” Cash had a feeling that Reine did, considering the way she’d been watching him on site. “I’m about to jump in the shower now,” he said. “Since we have to go back to Santa Fe anyway, why don’t I meet you at your place in a couple of hours.”

  “Why so long? What if she leaves?”

  “I need to take care of some business,” he hedged. Not exactly a lie. “Besides, Kessler has someone tailing the Cullen woman, too. We’ll know where to find her wherever she might go. And you could probably use a short lie-down.”

  “Probably,” she agreed, already seeming distracted again as she reentered the kitchen. “But don’t take too long.”

  Relieved by the ease with which he’d succeeded, Cash steered her toward the front door.

  “Get some rest,” he said. “We don’t know what we might be getting ourselves into.”

  Which went double for him.

  Chapter Nine

  Sam Valdez let Cash in, barking, “About time you got here, Abreu!”

  He’d taken less than the anticipated hour, but Valdez appeared ready to jump out of his skin as he stalked into the living room. All those phone messages should have clued him in to how anxious Valdez was. Following him, Cash threw himself into a cowhide-covered chair in what was undeniably a man’s room. Valdez’s idea of decorating was turning an old beat-up boot into a planter for some scrawny cactus.

  Valdez poured himself a whiskey from the elaborate bar on the opposite side of the room. “Want one?”

  “Too early to drink,” Cash said, suddenly becoming impatient himself. “What’s so all-fired important that you had to see me right away?”

  Dashing down the whiskey, the rancher grimaced as he swallowed. “Everything’s falling into place for us, Abreu. She came to me and made me an offer—”

  “Who?”

  “Marlene Matlock.”

  Startled, Cash sat up straighter. “What did she want?”

  “I get her the money for her son...she gets me the land along the river.”

  Cash wondered if Marlene had bothered mentioning this to her niece since Reine hadn’t said a thing about it. Then again, he’d barely spoken to Reine before rushing her off so he could get himself over here. Maybe that was why she’d been acting so weird. Not that he could ask her about it....

  “How can Marlene guarantee you anything?” he asked Valdez. “Last I knew, the old buzzard was refusing to do a damn thing to save Gray because he thought I’d snatched him.”

  “You?” Valdez guffawed. “If he really believes that, he’s dumber than dirt.”

  “I think he has himself convinced, because the land’s all he has left and he won’t allow himself to think about parting with it.”

  “Ah, now here comes the sweet end of the deal. Marlene’s papa set things up all nice and legal so she couldn’t lose what shoulda belonged to my family in the first place. She and Jasper co-own the river property, but only for as long as they stay married. Some kinda business partnership or other.” Valdez poured himself another drink. “And you’ll love this—if old Jasper don’t agree to sell, she’s gonna give him the boot. Then the property reverts to her solely. So, any way you look at it, we’re in a win-win situation!”

  He tossed back another whiskey.

  And Cash sat there, stunned. For years his goal had been to get the part of the spread along the river away from Matlock. He’d even made a pact with

  Valdez about the water rights to enlist his aid. If Valdez could somehow get him the land, he’d have the water rights in pepetuity.

  This was everything he could have hoped for and more, so why wasn’t he happier?

  As Valdez seemed to notice...

  “I don’t hear no fireworks, Abreu.” He stalked across the room and stood over Cash. “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

  “I’m not sure about this.”

  “Not sure? Crissakes, man, this is what you been waitin’ for!”

  “Yes. But may
be Gray being in trouble has made me rethink my priorities.”

  Valdez’s big hands curled into fists. “And maybe you’ve gone plumb loco!”

  “That, too.” Why else would he drag his feet on this deal?

  “It wouldn’t be that you been talkin’ a big game without the chips to see it through, would it?”

  “Two million’s a lot of money,” Cash agreed.

  “More than you got?”

  “I could scrape it together with some help.”

  He’d have to call in some favors, count on a couple of quick and highly unconventional loans against his business. He routinely reinvested what he didn’t spend on keeping up his life-style, so it wasn’t like he had the cash.

  “But I need to think about this before I do anything,” he said, more to himself than to Valdez.

  The other man cursed a blue streak.

  Cash wasn’t moved.

  “Time is in short commodity!” Valdez insisted. “Marlene says she needs the money on Monday.”

  Monday...

  So now they had their time frame.

  “We still have two days, then.” Cash rose, practically going nose-to-nose with Valdez. Realizing the man wasn’t too happy with him, and considering they’d had a deal of his own making, he tried to be reassuring. “Don’t worry. Whatever I decide, you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

  “You can rest assured I will, Abreu. Because if you don’t come through, I’ll find myself another backer!”

  “The hell you will!”

  “I can’t let Marlene down. She’s counting on me.”

  Understanding slowly filling him. Cash stared. “You and Marlene...?”

  “A long time ago, yeah. But she’s the kinda woman, once she gets in a man’s blood, she’s there for good. You wouldn’t understand unless you’ve been there.”

  He’d been there, all right, Cash thought ironically.

  “If she meant so much to you,” Cash said, asking the man exactly what he’d asked himself so many times, “why did you ever let her go?”

  “Not my choice. First her papa took her from me. Then her own sense of loyalty, even though she’d found out about you and Luna. So, you wanna back down, you go ahead. You’re not the only one with deep pockets in these parts.”

  “Don’t start looking for that other partner too soon,” Cash warned him.

  “I’ll give you until tomorrow morning to decide, Abreu. Then I go elsewhere.”

  Cash was already tuning him out as he headed for the door. Things had just gotten more complicated than he’d ever imagined they could be.

  Sam Valdez might be in a win-win situation. As for himself, he was in a real quandary.

  Two million—he could manage it if he so chose.

  He could have the final say in his battle with Jasper Matlock.

  And at the same time, he could be responsible for setting Gray free; could be a hero of sorts.

  Only...what then?

  He’d own the only thing his brother cared about.

  And the woman he’d determined to make his own would despise him for it.

  On the other hand, if he didn’t come through, Valdez would take in some stranger on the deal. He’d have his water rights. And Marlene would probably be so grateful he’d have her, too, one way or another.

  But Gray would still be out the land.

  And Cash wouldn’t be able to live with himself, because there was that degree-of-separation theory to haunt him—if he hadn’t gone after Matlock Construction and decimated it, the old man would have the means to buy his son back without worrying about losing the spread.

  As far as Cash was concerned, morning was going to come too quickly for his comfort.

  THE MORE REINE THOUGHT about it, the less sense it made to wait for Cash to get himself to Santa Fe before approaching Selena Cullen.

  Who knew how long his business would tie him up?

  Besides, as tired as she was, Reine didn’t want a lie-down. She wanted to feel as if she were doing something positive.

  Something to help Gray.

  Only how?

  What approach would get her what she wanted? And what did she want other than to discern whether or not Selena Cullen was involved? If that was possible. And if the woman was guilty, she wouldn’t actually come out and admit it. But maybe she could be shaken up a bit, Reine thought; made to feel reckless enough to let something slip.

  As she approached Enchanted on foot, she looked around, wondering who was keeping an eye on the store. She saw a lot of tourists milling about, but no one who looked like a private investigator.

  Of course, that would be the point....

  Entering the gallery, she was relieved to find fewer tourists inside than she’d expected. Dominick was busy with a couple of customers—two middle-age women decked out in Santa Fe chic who were effusing over a display of kachinas. One woman was staring at the fireplace that now boasted a Sold sign, and a young couple was rifling through the handcrafted switch plates the salesman had taken such care to arrange just the night before.

  Reine recognized Selena Cullen the moment she spotted the woman, the fiery dark hair being a dead giveaway. The color was more mahogany than a true red, but that and the high, broad cheekbones, snapping dark eyes and naturally bronzed skin revealed something of the woman’s heritage. Despite the last name, Selena appeared to be mestizo like Cash—a mix of New Mexico’s Anglo, Hispanic and Native American cultures.

  The gallery owner busied herself straightening a display of prints on one wall.

  Her pulse thrumming now that she was about to stick out her neck, Reine drew closer. She only hoped there was no way she could worsen the situation.

  Selena turned to catch her staring, and with a broad smile, asked, “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so. My name is Reine Kendrick—”

  The smile instantly vanished. “What is it you want from me?”

  It was the same reaction she’d gotten from the manager of Green Chiles. Obviously, Dolores Zaldava had found a way to forewarn her friend.

  “Could we talk someplace private?” Reine asked.

  She thought Selena was going to say no, but, in the end, the gallery owner gave in grudgingly, the sharp tilt of her head toward the back of the store indicating that Reine should follow her.

  They cut through a rear office and storage room and came out onto a small patio ringed with aspens, whose center was Saltillo-tiled and furnished with a wrought-iron table and chairs. Two half-empty coffee cups and an ashtray holding a crushed cigar whose heavy scent still hung in the air told Reine the area had been recently in use.

  Resting a hip against the table, Selena folded her arms over her chest. “All right. You have your privacy.”

  Praying that she would do this right, Reine said, “First let me tell you how sorry I am about your son’s death.”

  “Leave Jimmy out of this!” the woman snapped, her dark eyes instantly bright with unshed tears. “What do you want from me?” she asked again. “Did Jasper send you?”

  “No. My uncle doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “Then why are you?”

  “I’m here for myself...and for my aunt. You and she have a lot in common.”

  “You mean your uncle?”

  Trying to ignore the implication, Reine swallowed hard and stayed on the same track. “You both suffered a loss having to do with a son, although I’m hoping for a better ending for my cousin than your poor Jimmy had.”

  “Your cousin?” Selena echoed as if she didn’t know who Reine meant.

  “Grayson Matlock.”

  “Ah, Jasper’s precious son.”

  Selena’s seeming perplexity instantly cleared, making Reine wonder if she had a talent for lying.

  “He’s missing,” Reine said. “Kidnapped, actually. Aunt Marlene is beside herself. She’s terrified that something will happen to Gray...as am I.”

  All the while she spoke, Reine watched Selena for a reaction that didn’t come. N
o break in her expression. Not even in her posture. Surely any mother who’d just lost a son would at least flinch...if she had nothing to hide.

  Instead, Selena calmly challenged her: “So why are you here?”

  “You understand the loss and grief only a mother can know,” Reine continued, trying to get Selena to identify with Aunt Marlene. “And if I or my aunt could give you back your son, we would.”

  Selena blinked, and a thread of understanding passed between them.

  “You suspect I had something to do with this kidnapping?”

  “Did you?”

  Selena laughed, the sound unnatural. “Jasper did send you, didn’t he?”

  “No.”

  “His guilt has finally caught up to him.”

  So she did blame him for Jimmy’s suicide.

  “Taking over your son’s company was a business deal.”

  “Really? And was Jasper’s seducing me into telling him everything about Jimmy’s financial difficulties part of his business policy, as well?”

  Reine couldn’t think how to respond to that. She’d suspected her uncle had been unfaithful, but not like this. Not using an affair—sex—to further his profits.

  “Shocked?” Selena asked. “How do you think I felt when your uncle dropped me the moment he got what he really wanted? He used me. I was just another stepping-stone...a temporary possession... a means to an end. Only, who could have predicted what kind of end for my son?”

  Reine’s mouth was dry when she said, “I’m sure that never occurred to Uncle Jasper.”

  “So you want me to what? Feel sorry for him because his son is missing?” Selena laughed again—a kind of controlled hysteria. “Maybe Gray got sick of him and disappeared on purpose. He could show up at any time. Right? but me...I’ll never see my son again. I will live with that anguish every minute of every day of my life. I hope Jasper suffers every bit as much as I have, and you can tell him I said so when you see him!”

  The woman was so hostile that Reine felt she had no choice but to leave—and to wonder if she hadn’t made a mess of things, after all.

  “I’VE BEEN DOING SOME thinking,” Reine said as Cash drove them down the highway back to Española. “I never should have listened to Uncle Jasper when he refused to consider outside help, but I didn’t feel that it was my decision to make. We should have brought in the sheriff in the first place. Maybe we still should.”