by Carol Finch
Alexa noted the look of surprise that claimed his rugged features momentarily. Then it was gone and the deadpan expression was back in place. Her resentment simmered beneath the surface as she watched him stare straight at her. Damn it, she wanted an explanation and she wanted it now!
“Is your caped crusader following me, too?” Coop demanded sharply.
“Yes, and with good reason. I have no respect for a man who plays both ends against the middle. You’re fired. A shame that, Mr. Cooper. I will always pay better than your friend Webster.”
Coop snorted caustically. “I figured out what the investigation is really about so don’t spout indignation at me.”
“Have you?” she challenged. “Obviously you are smarter than I gave you credit. What is it that you think is really going on here?”
“My main duty is to dig up dirt on Webster because Quinn’s daughter is courting the man,” Coop speculated. “Harold Quinn doesn’t intend to give his blessing to this match unless Webster is squeaky clean and worthy of marrying into Quinn’s blue-blooded family. He isn’t. Take that back to your client.”
Alexa set aside her irritation momentarily and grinned beneath her beard and mustache. Coop thought he was so damn smart and had it all figured out, did he? She would put him on the spot, do a little prying and satisfy her own curiosity while she was at it.
“What do you think of Miss Quinn?” she asked flat-out.
“I think she’s a handful. Her father has every reason to check up on her and her latest boyfriend.”
She stiffened at the comment. “You don’t approve of Alexa?”
“I’m not getting paid to approve or disapprove of her.”
She gnashed her teeth, annoyed at Coop’s neutral tone that gave none of his feelings away. She wanted to know if he liked her for who she was on the inside, not what her money could buy.
“Who is this elusive detective you pay to skulk around at night?” Coop demanded. “Does he have a name?”
“What difference does it make to you? All that matters is that he knows you’re meeting with Webster on the sly and that you can’t be trusted. He has also seen you with Alexa. And don’t think I won’t inform my client that you have stepped over the line.”
That comment definitely got a reaction out of him, Alexa was pleased to say. Coop snapped up his head. His stance became defensive and he muttered what sounded like an extremely foul curse under his breath.
Alexa didn’t ask him to repeat the remark.
“Good night, Mr. Cooper. I am no longer in need of your services. I expect to have half my money returned, too.”
“Come back here!” Coop ordered when she wheeled around and stamped off. “This meeting isn’t over yet.”
“It is if I say it is,” she threw over her shoulder as she quickened her step to reach her horse.
She yelped when Coop pounced like a cougar springing on its quarry. He grabbed her elbow and spun her around to face him. She tripped over a fallen branch and she would have landed flat on her back if Coop hadn’t jerked her upright.
“It is Harold Quinn whom you represent, isn’t it? My assignment was to check on his debutante daughter’s intended fiancé, am I right?”
“Yes, you were to check on Webster, not dally with his daughter,” she flung back, feeling angry and hurt.
“You leave Alexa out of this,” Coop snarled at her.
“No, you leave her out of this and keep your distance from her.” She yanked her arm from his grasp. “You are no longer in my employ and that’s all that matters. You are unreliable and untrustworthy. A combination I will not tolerate.”
“Webster did hire me,” he admitted. “He wanted me to plant evidence that Hampton and Barrett are rustling his cattle. You can learn a hell of a lot when you’re on the inside, pretending to be a friend or employee.”
“He wants planted evidence?” she crowed. “Good God!”
The news caught her so completely off guard that she forgot to use her deep voice and her fake accent. She knew the exact moment when Coop recognized her. Cursing herself soundly, she lurched around and took off like a gunshot in the darkness to reach her horse before he could run her down.
Coop couldn’t believe his eyes or his ears. One moment he was debating with the annoying Yank called Mr. Chester. The next instant he heard Alexa’s voice coming from that hefty body wrapped in fashionable men’s clothing. He realized that the pudgy man might be short for the male gender but he was tall for a woman—exactly Alexa’s height. It hadn’t dawned on him until this precise moment that she was in disguise and she had made a fool of him. That rankled!
Furthermore, Mr. Chester’s written instructions had reminded Coop of fancy invitations. That was her doing, he realized suddenly. Plus, only she knew how intimate they had become. No one else could possibly have known. It all made sense now. She had used him and made him look like an idiot. That was as aggravating as it was embarrassing.
“Damn it to hell!” he spouted off as he gave chase. “Stop!”
When she defied his command, Coop dashed forward to grab her by the nape of her thick jacket. She shrugged out of it, revealing two layers of padding wrapped around her chest and abdomen. Coop launched himself through the air to tackle her around the knees, sending her sprawling facedown in the grass. She landed with a thud, a yelp and a curse with his name attached to it.
“You scoundrel, that’s no way to treat a lady!” she railed angrily. “Let me go before I decide to use my pistol on you.”
They rolled across the ground, both struggling for control of her firearm. When he shoved her to her back, he disarmed her before she carried out her spiteful threat. Unfortunately she made a grab for one of his Colts while he was disarming her.
Panting for breath, he plunked down on her hips—and found himself staring down his pistol barrel while she stared down hers. “Are you really going to shoot me?” he asked her.
“I’m thinking about it,” she muttered angrily.
“Make up your mind, princess. If Miguel is out there somewhere, ready to rush to your rescue, I don’t want to have to hurt him, just because his employer is a reckless daredevil who doesn’t have enough sense to fill a thimble.”
He figured that comment would infuriate her. Sure nuff.
“You’re a bastard! And you’re right. Miguel has a rifle sighted on you. Now let me up!”
Coop scanned the area. He knew Alexa had eluded Miguel’s protection on a few occasions. She might have duped her bodyguard tonight, too. Seeing no one, he focused his irritation and offended dignity on Alexa.
“I want to know why you’re posing as a representative for your father.”
“None of your business. I told you, you’re fired. Besides, how good of a detective can you be if you couldn’t figure out who I was?”
The snide question caused him to gnash his teeth, even if she did have a point. She had fooled him completely, which didn’t say much for his skills of observation. But in his defense he said, “That was a sneaky trick and you never let me close enough to tell who you were. But what matters is that you aren’t going to fire me because I’m not ready to quit—”
Catching her off guard, he slammed his pistol barrel against hers. The unexpected blow knocked the weapon from her hand. She shrieked and tried to whack him upside the head. Coop grabbed her wrist before she could do any real damage.
“Hold still, damn it,” he barked at her.
“Get off me, damn it,” she muttered, and then bit his hand.
Coop shook his stinging hand and stared at the wildcat in disbelief. He kept seeing Mr. Chester’s wire-rimmed glasses and bearded face superimposed on Alexa’s delicate features. The contrasting images kept distracting him.
He decided to let her up before she bit a few more chunks out of his hide. He bounded to his feet then hauled her up beside him. When he jerked the beard from her face, she squawked in pain.
“Serves you right, you little termagant,” he said unsympatheticall
y as he removed her glasses and stuck them in his shirt pocket. “Does your father know what you’re doing?”
“That isn’t your concern,” she mumbled as she rubbed her tender chin. “All you need to know is that you can leave town whenever you please. The sooner the better as far as I’m concerned. I’ll handle this case myself.”
Coop quick-marched Alexa to her horse. Instead of assisting her onto the saddle, he climbed aboard, and then offered his hand to her.
When she stared at his hand, as if she preferred to bite it rather than accept it, he said, “Ride or walk. You decide. Doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to me.”
She grumbled under her breath—calling him a few foul names, he suspected—but she took his hand and allowed him to situate her behind him on the horse. Coop moved his pistols out of her reach and stuffed them in the front waistband of his breeches. When he trotted to the place where he had tied Bandit, he plucked up Alexa and deposited her on his horse.
However, he refused to hand her the reins. He led the way through the trees and halted at the spot where oversize boulders and trees lined the river, providing protection, so he and Alexa wouldn’t become sitting ducks if someone attacked.
“You and I are going to have a long talk, princess,” he said ominously.
“I’m not a princess and I have nothing more to say to you,” she said with stubborn defiance.
“Tough. I want to know exactly what’s going on and you’re going to tell me.”
She made a spectacular production of clamping her lips shut and thrusting out her chin. Try as he might, he couldn’t squelch a grin. She was feisty, headstrong, daring and courageous. He couldn’t believe his first impression of her had been so far off the mark. She’d put on a convincing act that threw him and everyone else off track.
“I don’t appreciate the fact that you purposely misled me,” he complained as he pulled her off Bandit.
“I don’t have to answer to you,” she sassed him.
Coop blew out his breath. “I do not envy Miguel his job as your bodyguard. Where is the poor man? Did you stuff him down a well or poison him again?”
She flashed him a go-to-hell-and-stay-there glare. It didn’t faze him. Outlaws had been giving him that look for years. He was immune. “I can tie you up and torture the information out of you. Or you can be nice and cooperate.”
“It takes someone nice to bring out the nice in me,” she shot back.
She wheeled around, stuck her nose in the air and ignored him. Coop bit back an amused snicker. The woman didn’t know when to quit. Plus, she was blasting his preexisting perception of her all to hell. To prove that he meant business he grabbed a strip of leather from his saddlebag, walked up behind her and lashed her hands to an overhanging tree branch. She glared at him but he disregarded her expression of outraged disgust.
Careful not to come within kicking distance, Coop crossed his arms over his chest and stood with feet askance. “Now let’s hear it and don’t leave anything out.”
“You want to hear it? Fine. I think you are a bullying brute and I rue the day I hired you,” she smarted off. “I swear you passed around those exaggerated tales of your legendary heroics as a lawman and detective, just to drum up business. You are a liar and a cheat and I don’t like you one whit!”
“Forget about your personal feelings for me,” he said dismissively. “I want to know what this case is really about. Obviously it isn’t about checking out Webster as possible marriage material. Now that I know the real you, I realize you have been investigating him all by yourself. You found out a lot of things you wanted to know about the bastard.”
The comment seemed to please her and that surprised him. Which only proved how little Coop understood women. This one in particular. She confused the hell out of him.
Pleased though she appeared to be, she still didn’t offer an explanation so Coop said, “I’m not kidding about the torture tactics.” He flashed his most vicious glare and towered over her like a thundercloud. “Don’t make me wring the information out of you. I don’t want to hurt you, except as my last resort.”
She took a long time before answering. Which indicated how little she trusted him not to betray her confidence. That hurt. He didn’t want to delve into the reason why her opinion mattered. It just did.
Alexa met his stony stare. “Are you going to help Webster set up my friend’s father as a rustler?”
“Hell no, but I did see Webster’s men putting an H brand and a B brand over the W brand. I’m withholding that information to relay to Gil Henson when the timing is right.
“And even though you probably don’t believe me, I figured the easiest way to come and go from Webster’s ranch without drawing suspicion was to pretend to work for him.”
She studied him pensively for a moment. “All right, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt…for the moment. Besides, I’ve been feeling guilty about deceiving you. That is, when I wasn’t furious with you for what I thought was betrayal.”
He frowned curiously. “Why did you deceive me?”
“Because I doubted you would have taken me seriously if I’d asked to be involved in this case and insisted that you report to me. So I became someone I thought you could take seriously.” She brought his attention to her bound hands. “If you untie me I’ll tell you what’s really going on with this investigation,” she bartered.
Coop cocked his head and eyed her skeptically. “We have a real dilemma, princess. You’re not sure you can trust me completely and I feel the same way about you. I think you might shoot me if I give you an opening.”
“Me?” she tittered innocently. “Really, Mr. Cooper, you give me far too much credit. We socialites just don’t have it in us to do any such thing. Our only objective is to amuse ourselves constantly.”
His gaze narrowed. “You can drop that fluff-headed routine with me. I know that isn’t the real you. The real you is half wildcat and half crafty fox.”
Alexa beamed at the compliment, although he hadn’t meant it as one.
“Answer me this,” he insisted as he untied her hands in a gesture of good faith. “Who is the caped crusader I saw at the line shack and again while I was galloping across Webster’s pasture looking for rustlers? Was that Miguel?”
Alexa peeled off the padding on her chest then unfastened the oversize breeches. Coop watched her reduce fifty pounds in nothing flat. Beneath the padding were trim breeches and a black shirt.
“Oh hell, it’s you.” He glanced suspiciously at the carpetbag tied behind the saddle of her horse. “How many other characters are you carrying around in your luggage?”
“That’s all…for this case, at least.” She rolled up the Mr. Chester-disguise and tucked it into her carpetbag, along with the glasses she retrieved from his shirt pocket.
Coop shook his head in amazement. “Your father approves of this? Is he insane?”
“My father doesn’t know I’m involved in the investigation.” She stared threateningly at him. “If you try to blackmail me I’ll make you dreadfully sorry. And Miguel will help me torture you within an inch of your life.”
Coop smirked at her threat. Alexa watched him sink down on a chair-size boulder near the tumbling rapids. No doubt, he planned to use the sound of rushing water to drown out their conversation—in case someone was listening.
Coop was very thorough, she’d give him that. She would have to remember that tactic. It might come in handy.
“My pretended interest in Webster is my excuse for being in Questa Springs,” she admitted. “Visiting the Hamptons makes me accessible for his courtship and my subtle investigation.”
Alexa sank next to him. Immediately she became aware of the hopeless attraction that had been her complete downfall one reckless night not so long ago. “This is about the possibility of one of my father’s advisors providing Webster with inside information. Government contracts for the military posts and Indian reservations will be negotiated this month. Elliot got wind that my fa
ther isn’t pleased with present arrangements. Elliot has been defrauding the forts and reservations by delivering substandard food and livestock. The committee is taking other applications and Elliot is playing up to my father and to me so he can promote his own agenda.”
“He wouldn’t be the first to shortchange the Indian tribes,” Coop replied. “Sick horses and rancid beef have been sold as prime stock to reservations in Texas, Indian Territory and Arizona for years.”
“My father prefers to give the contract to one or both of Webster’s honest neighbors,” she explained. “Hampton is one of them and Barrett is the other. Which suggests that Webster wants to ruin their reputation as ranchers to ensure that he receives the contract.”
“You think the unidentified man at the line shack might be the informant or his agent,” Coop presumed. “He was here two days ago, by the way. I followed Webster that night. Short of bursting inside the shack with pistols drawn, I couldn’t get a detailed description.”
Alexa sighed in disappointment. “I had hoped Webster would invite his coconspirator to his home, the same way he did his concubine. So far I’ve only seen Oscar Denton and a few hired gunmen hovering around while I’m at Webster’s ranch.”
She shivered repulsively. She didn’t like the way Denton stared at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. It made her skin crawl. Furthermore, she preferred not to be alone with him unless she was heavily armed.
“Now that I know exactly what I’m looking for I can get better results,” Coop insisted. “You can clear out of Questa Springs to rejoin your father in Santa Fe.”
Alexa snapped up her chin. “I will do no such thing. I intend to prove to my father that I’m capable and worth—” She shut her mouth so quickly that she bit the end of her tongue.
Coop eyed her speculatively. “Your father doesn’t appreciate you, is that it?”
“I’m sick to death of playing hostess to his social and political gatherings,” she confided. “He doesn’t expect more from me, but I do. He adheres to the same conventional philosophy as most men. He thinks women need to be protected, tended to and cared for. But if I’m partially responsible for exposing Webster’s underhanded dealings, Papa will recognize my potential and grant me the freedom to live my life as I choose.”
