Lady of the Gun

by Faye Adams

  She'd thought about the arguments she'd overheard between Hunt Tylo and her father. She remembered Tylo's warnings that Farley Wayne would regret his decision to keep Lazy T cows off his land. And she remembered her mother's concern over angering Tylo. She'd said Farley didn't know how cruel the rancher could be.

  Now, riding beside Brett to the Lazy T, she could hear her mother's voice again. Cass remembered several occasions as a child when she'd seen Hunt Tylo and her father together. They'd been friends of a sort, though Tylo never let her father forget who was the wealthier, more successful of the two. Her eyes narrowed as she thought about how uncomfortable she'd always felt around him. Her mother's words rang once more in her head, and she believed she knew exactly how cruel Hunt Tylo could be. She was determined to prove what he'd done and to see him receive the justice he so richly deserved.

  She glanced at Brett's straight back. He rode angrily, ignoring her. She took in the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his thighs as he straddled his mount. She mentally measured the growth of the dark whiskers that still covered his chin, and she touched one of the tender spots on her neck where he'd nuzzled her. Feeling a wash of emotion flood through her at the memory, she noticed him shift slightly in the saddle. Cass knew that he doubted Tylo's involvement in the murders. That doubt made him vulnerable. She would have to protect him. She knew she could.

  "'We're here. Remember what I told you," Brett warned as they rode onto Lazy T land.

  Cass just nodded, then looked around the ranch. A few hands were visible on the place. One man was cleaning out the barn. Another was working a horse in a circle in one of the corrals. Still another was sitting in a rocking chair on the huge porch that completely encircled Tylo's two-story home. The men watched them coming, but made no move in their direction.

  "So far everything seems normal here," Brett stated quietly.

  "Too normal," breathed Cass, seeing Brett raise an eyebrow at her comment. "Don't worry, I won't shoot first!" she said.

  Brett scowled in her direction.

  As they neared the house the front door opened and out stepped Hunt Tylo's son, Ramsey.

  "Cass, how wonderful to see you," he said, ignoring Brett. "Please get down and come into the house."

  "'We've come to speak to your father, if we may," said Brett. "Is he at home?"

  Ramsey turned icy eyes toward Brett. "Oh, yes. Hello, Marshal. My father's in his study."

  Brett dismounted and tethered his horse to the rail running parallel to the porch. Cass began to dismount, only to find Ramsey standing below her as she swung herself to the ground.

  “Let me to do that for you, Cass," Ramsey said softly, reaching for the reins.

  "All right," she answered, perplexed by his attention. Scanning him with her eyes, she decided his looks hadn't changed much during the years he'd been gone. He'd always been a thin boy, although quite tall, and she was surprised to see he hadn't filled out much. His body was still youthfully angular, actually looking a little bony. She cringed slightly when he deliberately made contact with her fingers as he took the reins from her. Stepping back from him, she waited while he tethered her horse to the hitching rail.

  "There now, that's done. Let's go into the house, shall we?" Ramsey spoke again, holding out his arm to Cass.

  She let her gaze fall to his arm. Not wanting to offend him, she placed her hand over his forearm and fought the urge to pull away when he covered her fingers with his own.

  "This is such a pleasant surprise," he said, smiling down at Cass. "And a coincidence too. Father and I were just discussing you this morning."

  "You were?" interjected Brett.

  Ramsey glanced back at Brett over his shoulder. "Yes, Marshal. There's no law against discussing a beautiful woman, is there?"

  "Of course not. Call it professional curiosity that makes me ask what was said."

  Ramsey laughed out loud. "Really, Marshal, you don't expect me to tell you that in front of the lady, do you?" he gave Cass a provocative grin as he spoke, and gently squeezed her hand.

  "You said nothing to slander the lady, I hope," Brett said in a challenging tone.

  Ramsey laughed again. “Certainly not. Relax, Marshal. I only told my father what a stunning woman Cass had grown into. Surely you can't find fault with that?" He looked at Cass for a moment. "Now we're in danger of the lady getting a swelled head, I think," he teased.

  Cass felt awkward with Ramsey flirting so openly with her, but Brett's scowl and his rude remarks and attitude were causing her to bristle. If this was an example of what he was going to be like from now on she decided he needed a good lesson. He didn't own her just because she'd made love with him. And he had no right to govern her actions just because he thought there was chance, however slight, that she might be pregnant. Turning to Ramsey, she smiled beautifully and tried to look interested. Squeezing his hand, she demurred. "You flatter me."

  "Not at all. I only speak the truth," Ramsey assured her, his pulse taking a leap at her smile. He was going to have more fun with her than he'd hoped. "Shall we find Father?" he asked.

  Cass nodded her agreement. The reminder that she and Brett were here to speak to Hunt Tylo gave Cass a small stab of guilt. She was allowing Ramsey to flirt with her even though she believed that his father was guilty of multiple murders. Looking up into his smiling blue eyes she felt pity for him. A person couldn't be held responsible for the actions of his parent, but he would undoubtedly be terribly hurt when the truth came out.

  Brett followed Ramsey and Cass through the house toward the study. He noticed that Cass blushed at something Ramsey had whispered in her ear, and he saw Ramsey grin in return as she spoke softly to him. Brett clenched his jaw and controlled the urge to wipe the stupid grin from Ramsey's face with the heel of his boot.

  As they neared a pair of ornately carved double doors standing ajar, he heard a booming voice coming from the room they protected. "Cassidy Wayne, as I live and breathe. I'd heard you'd come home. How are you, my dear?" the voice asked.

  Cass entered the study at Ramsey's elbow and looked at the man she suspected of murder. Her blood ran cold, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. "Hello, Mr. Tylo," she said coolly.

  "Now, now, You're all grown up, as my son pointed out to me this morning, so you can call me Hunt."

  Brett stepped into the room and let his eyes do a quick inventory of the man called Hunt Tylo. He could have been Ramsey, only twenty years older and forty or fifty pounds heavier. He stood well over six feet, with a muscular build and a wide smile. His hair was nearly white, showing only the tiniest evidence that he'd once been blond. His skin was tanned and leathery with few lines to give away his age. Then Tylo looked in his direction and their eyes met. Brett suddenly felt a little of what Cass felt. Hunt Tylo had cold, hard eyes. Eyes that didn't match the friendly words he spoke.

  "Is this a friend of yours, Cass?" Hunt asked.

  Cass glanced quickly to Brett. "This is Marshal Brett Ryder. Brett, Mr. Hunt Tylo."

  Brett stepped forward, his hand out.

  "Marshal? Cass? Is there a problem I should know about?" he said, shaking Brett's hand, then stepping back. "Are you in trouble, Cass?"

  "No, Mr. Tylo. Brett's here to talk to you."

  "Me? What have I done?" he asked, surprised and innocent.

  Brett spoke before Cass got a chance to reply. "Nothing, sir. At least nothing I'm ready to arrest you for, yet," he said in a teasing way, followed by a slight laugh.

  "Well, that's good to hear. You had me going there for a minute. Please sit down, won't you?" He indicated the two chairs facing his huge mahogany desk. Moving behind the impressive piece of furniture, he sat down his elbows on its surface. "Tell me how I can help you, Marshal."

  Brett settled into one of the large leather chairs Tylo had indicated. He watched Cass do the same. Ramsey leaned on the back of Cass's chair. "Did Sheriff Jackson pay you a visit yesterday?" he asked.

  Tylo shook his head a b
it. "No, Marshal. I haven't seen Jackson since the last time I was in town. Why? Is something wrong?"

  "Yes, sir, there is. Cass found the sheriff's body out on the range yesterday."

  "No," Tylo breathed. "How horrible."

  "Yes. He was on his way to speak to you here at the Lazy T." He paused for a moment. "Apparently he never made it this far."

  Tylo shook his head again. "No, he never showed up here. I'm sorry to hear he's dead. Jackson was a good man.”

  "Yes, I'm sure he was," agreed Brett. "Did any of your men report seeing anything out of the ordinary yesterday? Any strangers hanging around the place?"

  "No, no one reported anything. Of course, one of them might have seen something and just not mentioned it. I can ask them all if you'd like."

  "I'd appreciate that, Mr. Tylo. Let me know if you learn anything."

  "Certainly, Marshal." He rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. "What did the sheriff want to talk to me about?" he asked.

  Brett saw Cass tense up and willed her to keep silent. "Nothing much, really. He said he had a few follow-up questions to ask you about the Wayne murders. I'm sure it was all just routine stuff."

  Tylo looked at Cass. "Really? I thought I'd answered all the sheriff’s questions about that when it happened.”

  "What could my father possibly have told Sheriff Jackson now, after all these years?" asked Ramsey.

  "I don’t know…maybe…” Cass started.

  "I'm sure it was nothing," Brett interrupted. "He didn't say it was anything too important."

  "It's important to me," said Cass.

  "I'm sure it is," Tylo said solicitously. "It was a real tragedy. You're a lucky girl to have escaped."

  "I don't feel so lucky, Mr. Tylo," she told him levelly. "You know, sometimes I wonder what would have happened to my family's land if I had been murdered with the rest. Would you have taken it over?"

  "I don't know, Cassidy. I never thought about it. I hardly need any more land." He smiled at Brett.

  "But you would like better access to the Losee," she pointed out.

  "I have access to the Losee."

  "But my father told you he wasn't going to let your cattle cross our land anymore."

  Tylo looked from Cass to Brett, then back to Cass. "Your father and I discussed it. He decided to leave things the way they were." He glanced at Brett again. "You’re not trying to implicate me in these five-year-old murders, are you?"

  "It doesn't matter that they happened five years ago," answered Cass,

  "Marshall?" Tylo questioned.

  "No, sir, Mr. Tylo. No one is accusing you of anything. I don't know what the sheriff was going to ask you. As I said, he told me he just had some routine follow-up questions," explained Brett. "You'll have to forgive Cass for being so tenacious. I'm sure you understand her reasons."

  Cass gritted her teeth at Brett's patronizing, apologetic tone. "I'm perfectly capable…"

  "I do understand," Tylo interrupted. Letting his gaze fall on Cass, he continued, "I'm sure I'd act the same way in similar circumstances." He gave her a pitying smile. "I know I'd grasp at straws and make false assumptions."

  Cass narrowed her eyes at the older man. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Brett touched her arm.

  "Let's go, Cass. I'm sure Mr. Tylo has a lot of work to do running this place." He stood up. "Thank you for your time, sir. And I'll be waiting to hear whether or not any of your hands heard or saw anything strange yesterday.”

  Tylo pushed himself away from the desk. “Certainly, Marshal. If I come across anything I'll let you know. You'll be in town?"

  "Yes. I'll be staying at the jail now that the sheriffs dead."

  "You're planning on being here for a while, then?”

  Brett looked at Cass. "For about a month, I guess,” he answered.

  Cass reddened at his meaning. Standing up, she started for the door.

  "Cass, may I walk you out?” Ramsey asked.

  Cass turned to face him. She'd all but forgotten about him, and she certainly didn’t think he'd be interested in flirting with her after she'd implied his father might have had a motive to kill her family. “I suppose so,” she stammered.

  "Good," he answered, crossing to take her arm once more.

  Brett stepped behind them to follow, but before they left the room he turned back to Tylo. “Do you have a night watch?"

  "Of course."

  "And none of those men reported anything?”

  "No. Why?" asked Tylo, his eyes narrowing.

  "I was out riding last night..insomnia..and I happened upon your place. Must have been about two in the morning. I could have sworn I heard a shot from somewhere on your property."

  "Really? That's interesting," commented Tylo.

  "Yes, it is," answered Brett. “You're sure no one saw or heard anything?"

  "Not a word, Marshal. One of my boys probably just shot at a prairie dog or something.”

  "Yeah, probably," Brett agreed, turning back toward the door. "Your boys must have real good eyesight,” he murmured.

  Cass was perplexed. Brett had said nothing to her about hearing a shot on Lazy T land last night. As she watched him leave the room, brushing past her and Ramsey, she tried to catch his eye, but he passed quickly, heading toward the front door.

  "Shall we?" Ramsey suggested.

  She nodded.

  "Good-bye, Cassidy. Come visit me again sometime. I find your visits very interesting," Tylo said to her back.

  Cass glanced back over her shoulder as Ramsey guided her through the door. "Good-bye" was all she could manage when she saw the evil glint in his eye. He did it, her heart told her. He had my family murdered, and he knows I know.

  By the time her thoughts had coalesced, Ramsey had her out the front door and standing on the porch. "Please say you will," she heard him say to her.

  "What? I'm sorry, Ramsey. I wasn't paying attention. What do you want?"

  “I'm asking you to go to the Fourth of July festivities with me, Cass," he tried again.

  Cass blinked in surprise. She hadn't even thought about the upcoming celebration, let alone considered going with anyone. "There's a parade, isn't there?" she asked.

  "Yes. And a chicken dinner. And of course, the fireworks."

  Cass thought about his offer for a moment. It would be fun to go to a parade and to see a fireworks display. It had been years since she'd done anything so lighthearted. Yet, looking up into Ramsey's expectant eyes, she wondered why he'd asked her. Hadn't he heard anything she'd said to his father? The Tylo men were a strange breed. Maybe, in their case, blood wasn't thicker than water. She wasn't sure she liked that aspect of their personalities, and she certainly didn't want to lead Ramsey on, but maybe she could gain some clues about his father without his knowing it. "I'd be happy to go with you, Ramsey."

  "Wonderful! The parade begins at one o'clock, so I'll pick you up around noon. Will that do?"

  She nodded. "I'll be waiting."

  Brett watched the exchange between Cass and Ramsey but couldn't make out what they were saying because he’d mounted his horse as soon as he left the house. When Cass swung up into her saddle a few minutes later, he gave her a scathing look. Turning his horse, he started them on their way home.

  "What was that all about?" he asked as soon as they were out of earshot.

  "None of your business," she retorted.

  "Everything about you is my business for a while,” he returned.

  Cass let out an exasperated breath. “I accepted Ramsey's invitation to the Fourth of July celebration in town,” she told him.

  Brett's eyes widened in angry surprise. “Do you enjoy consorting with the enemy, or are you just plain stupid?” he demanded.

  "How dare you! Ramsey wasn’t even in Twisted Creek when the murders took place, and he certainly doesn’t act like a man who knows his father is a murderer.”

  "Precisely."

  "What's that supposed to mean?”

&nbs
p; "He doesn't act like it. Hasn't it occurred to you that he might be acting?"

  Cass thought about it for a moment. "If he knew anything, he certainly wouldn't want to have anything to do with me,” she said.

  Brett set his jaw as he looked Cass up and down for a moment. "You just don't get it, do you?”

  "Enlighten me."

  "What better way to keep abreast of any investigation into your family's massacre than to pretend to be interested in you?" he asked.

  "Thank you very much for the compliment,” she huffed.

  "Don't get insulted. You know very well how attractive I think you are. I'm sure Ramsey thinks the same thing. Hell, any man with eyes in his head would want to take you to bed."

  "Don't be crude."

  "I'll be anything I have to be to get you to see what might be going on here. I'm sure Ramsey's tickled pink that you turned out to be beautiful. I just wouldn't set too much store in his being honest. If his father had something to do with the murders, Ramsey knows about it. I'd bet my last dollar on that."

  "You won't have to" If he knows anything about the murders I'll find out about it."

  "Oh, no. You don't think you can get information out of him by pretending to be attracted to him, do you?"

  Cass wouldn't answer.

  "Cass, please don't try this. I think you’re in way over your head with Hunt and Ramsey Tylo."

  Cass glared at him.

  "I have little doubt you could beat either man in a fair gunfight, but I don't think these men play fair."

  Cass glanced sideways at Brett. “Then you think I'm on the right track about Hunt Tylo?"

  "Maybe. There's definitely something about the man I don't like. Whether or not he had anything to do with the killing of your family remains to be seen, but I think he knows more than he's saying."

  Cass thought about what Brett said. "I know he did it," she said quietly.

  "You think he did it."

  "You should have seen the way he looked at me as I was leaving. He's evil. I can feel it."