Texas Orchids (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series)

by Samantha Christy

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “This.” He throws something on the table.

  I pick up the package. “Rat poison?”

  “The stream is full of it. The water tested positive for it. One of my guys found this about fifty yards north of the property line near the mouth of the stream.”

  Andie shakes her head. “One bag wouldn’t be enough to pollute the entire stream.”

  “I’d say about a hundred bags is more like it,” Matteo says.

  “Jesus,” I say. “Who would poison the water?”

  “Don’t touch the bag,” Katherine says. “There might be fingerprints.” She uses a pencil to take it from me. “Andie, do you have a large Ziplock bag we could put this in?”

  “Who are you, the FBI?” Victor jokes.

  Andie looks like she’s about to pass out.

  “No,” Katherine says. “They do this on TV.”

  “It could have been a lot worse,” Matteo says. “If you and Maddox hadn’t taken your horses to the ridge last night, we might never have tested the water.”

  Victor looks more than a little unhappy. “You and Maddox went riding last night?”

  Andie goes completely ashen.

  Katherine jumps in without missing a beat. “One of the mares was giving birth in the pasture. Maddox wouldn’t let Andie ride out alone in the dark. Isn’t that right, babe?” She leans in and kisses my cheek. “You’re so chivalrous.”

  Matteo looks confused. Before he can say anything that might blow our cover, Andie urges him toward the door. “Thanks for getting to the bottom of it. You’ll contact the authorities?”

  “Already have.”

  She rejoins us. “I hate to cut the evening short, but I need to check on all the horses in the pasture.” She turns to Katherine, looking nervous. “Is it okay if we continue this another day?”

  “Of course. We’d be happy to.”

  “It’s dark outside,” Victor says to Andie. “I’ll go with you.”

  “No. Go home. I’ll probably be working all night. I won’t ride, I’ll drive my truck.”

  “I’ll have a few of the ranch hands go with her,” I say.

  This seems to satisfy him. “Okay, but I want a rain check. Maybe next time we can fly solo.”

  “Yeah. Sorry, I really have to go. The horses might need me.”

  Victor leaves, and Katherine and I pretend to go back to my place. “You two almost blew it,” she says. “You can’t go galivanting around together after dark when they’re supposed to be a couple. You’re lucky I was there to diffuse the situation.”

  “Us? What about you? I told Victor we hadn’t talked about my going back to New York yet and then you practically announce we’re moving in together.”

  “You were getting too personal. Men don’t ask other men about their relationships. Andie is the one who needs to do the asking, not you.”

  “Who cares about any of that? What did you find out? They’re obviously done digging if you let us end the evening early.”

  “It was an empty grave.”

  I’m dumbfounded. “Maybe he saw us looking at it last week and dug it up.”

  “If anything was there, it was a dog. It looks like a canine tooth was found—they sent it off to be sure. Could be the previous tenants wanted to take their pet’s remains with them.”

  My jaw drops. “Who would do that?”

  “People get attached to their pets, Maddox.”

  “Still, digging them up. That’s sick.” I blow out a long breath in frustration. “So we’re back to square one, and Andie needs to keep seeing that prick.”

  “I wish it didn’t have to be that way.”

  “Then why don’t you do your damn job and figure this out without her help?”

  “We’re trying. I promise you we are.”

  “I need to get to the stables. I have problems of my own.”

  “Let me know if I can help. I’d be happy to run the rat poison bag for prints if you don’t get anywhere with the local police.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Since Victor is long gone, we simply shake hands. “I’ll call you soon with our next move.”

  “Andie is not doing anything else without a microphone. I won’t allow it.”

  “She already has it. Gave it to her when we got the games.”

  “She was wearing it tonight?”

  She nods. “I told you it wouldn’t be obvious.” She opens her car door. “Be careful. You don’t want to put her in danger. Might want to cool it with the nighttime pony rides.”

  After she leaves, I join the others in the barn office. “Do you have any idea who would want to poison the stream?”

  “Someone who has something to gain from it,” Matteo says.

  Repulsed, I ask, “Who could possibly gain something by killing horses?” Several pairs of eyes stare me down, like the answer should be obvious. “The Thompsons?”

  “Who else?” Owen says. “They are the only ones who would benefit from DHR getting bad press. Hugh Jenkins sure as hell wouldn’t want to buy a ranch that had lost a bunch of horses.”

  I sit down. “You think they’d kill horses to get what they want?”

  “I think they’d do just about anything,” Owen says.

  I get out my phone and step into the hallway. Andie pops her head out. “The police are already on their way.”

  “I’m not calling them. I’m calling my father. No way in hell will I let him sell to those pricks.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Andie

  In Matteo’s office, I sink down on the couch in defeat. “How can they have come up with nothing?”

  “The police questioned every retailer of that particular rat poison,” he says. “Even went as far as Oklahoma.”

  “And there were no prints on the bag you found?”

  He shakes his head.

  Maddox is clearly as upset by this as I am. He’s pacing. “So that’s it?” he says. “Case closed and whoever did this gets away with it?”

  “They haven’t closed the case,” Matteo says. “They’re looking into online purchases, but the sheriff told me not to expect much.”

  “What about footprints?” I ask. “Or tire tracks. There must be some evidence they can find.”

  Matteo gazes out his window, brooding. “Apparently, a few sick horses don’t get us to the top of the priority list at the sheriff’s office.”

  “A few sick horses?” I say in revulsion.

  “Andie, I know Baby Blue is more than just a horse to you. She’s family. I’m willing to do what it takes to protect her and the rest of them. I sent some of my men upstream the past few nights. I thought maybe they’d see if anyone tried to do anything.”

  “They didn’t or you’d have said something.”

  “It’s a long stream, and the poison could have been dumped in anywhere.”

  Maddox sits on the arm of the couch. “But Thousand Acre Ranch hasn’t had any problems, and they are directly north of us.”

  “We’re doing everything we can,” Owen says. “I’ve got someone testing the water twice a day. The horses are healthy.”

  “For now,” I say. I get a text and stand. “It’s Hugh Jenkins. I have to check on one of his pregnant mares.”

  Maddox walks me out. “See you for supper?”

  I smile. Meals with Maddox have become the highlight of my day. “Absolutely.”

  “And I’m cooking.”

  “Spaghetti casserole?” I say, laughing.

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “I’ll be over at seven.”

  “No. I’ll bring it to you. Remember what Katherine said about you not being at the main house.”

  I kick dirt when we reach my truck, frustrated. “Someone’s poisoning horses, and I could be dating a murderer. How did I end up here?”

  He strokes my arm. “Everything will be okay. I’m going to make sure of it.”

  “How? You don’t know the Tho
mpsons. If they did this, who knows what they are capable of. And Victor—I don’t even want to think about those possibilities.”

  “I don’t know how, but I’m going to keep you safe, Andie.” He glances at the stables. “And them.”

  He can’t possibly mean it, but hearing him say it makes me feel better. When I was young, Granddad always looked out for me. Then it was Vivian. Now him. My whole life, even though I never had a father, and Mom died so young, someone has been there for me. Despite all the terrible things going on around me, I am a lucky girl.

  “See you tonight,” I say, then drive away.

  On the way to Hugh Jenkins’ place, I call Christina.

  She gets right to the point. “You’re not calling to cancel Thursday’s lunch, are you?”

  “No. I wanted to ask you something. Please don’t get mad, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  “You know you can ask me anything.”

  “Is Jon working?”

  She snorts. “He’s always working.”

  I tell her about the rat poison and the horses getting sick and the police having no evidence. “Christina, I know he’s your husband and all, but—”

  “You think my rat bastard husband and his family might have done it because they want the ranch. Say no more. Tell me what you need. But it’s not like I can just ask him, you know. He doesn’t tell me anything, least of all Thompson family business.”

  “It’s a long shot, but y’all have the biggest shed I know. You’ve told me Jon sometimes hangs out there with his buddies. I was thinking maybe you could, I don’t know, snoop around a little.”

  “Ooooo, a covert operation. This is something I can get onboard with.”

  Christina is a bored housewife. If she’s so gung-ho on this, I bet she would have a field day if I told her about Victor.

  “This is serious business, Christina. If he did this—”

  “If he did this, he’ll go to jail, and I could live off the conniving shithead’s money, so hell yeah, I’ll help you.”

  “I’m sure you won’t find anything, but someone did drop a bag of rat poison. If we could find another like it, we might have something to go on. But Christina, if you find anything, do not confront him. Call me, and I’ll have the guys at Devil’s Horn Ranch deal with it.”

  “Fine. Now let me go, so I can find my black ski mask and gloves.”

  I laugh. “See you Thursday.”

  “You know it.”

  When I arrive at the Jenkins place, a caravan of trucks is pulling out, kicking up dust as they spin their tires. I’d recognize that motorcade anywhere. Joel Thompson was here.

  I park and go to the stable. Mr. Jenkins is sitting on a bench in the tack room, eyeing a huge pile of tack on the floor. “You okay, Mr. Jenkins?”

  He’s startled when I speak, then quickly stands. “Andie. I am now. Thanks for coming so quickly. I’m worried about Henny. She seems agitated.”

  “What were the Thompsons doing all the way out here?”

  “Oh, you know them. They were politely letting me know how much they’d like to be the ones to purchase Devil’s Horn Ranch.”

  “Politely?”

  He gestures to the tack, which I realize wasn’t removed for cleaning but has been forcibly ripped off the walls—nails, pegs, and all.

  “You should report this.”

  “Won’t do no good. They got everyone in the sheriff’s office in their pocket. Joel Thompson was the largest contributor to Sheriff Wheatly’s re-election campaign.”

  I sit next to him and close my eyes. “Is that so?”

  “The sheriff doesn’t even like old Joel. I’d bet my bottom dollar he’d love to see him go down, but I can almost guarantee it won’t be on his watch.”

  I help him clean up and then we check on his horse. All the while, I tell him in confidence about the stream and the poison.

  “You know it’s him, don’t ya?” he says. “Or at least his henchmen.”

  “Matteo thinks he wants to run the ranch into the ground and make it so nobody else wants to buy it.”

  “It’s what I’d do if I were him. Nobody in town wants DHR to fall into his hands.”

  “I don’t think it will. I know the owner’s son. He assures me they won’t sell to him.”

  He shakes his head. “They might not have a choice if he’s the only one left standing.”

  “It won’t come to that.”

  “You don’t know Joel very well. Let me tell you a story, Andie. He and I go way back. We were friends even, though that seems like a lifetime ago. He was tight with my brother, Roger. They were a few years older than me, and I looked up to them. They both did everything first: dated women, drove trucks, bought ranches. They were who I wanted to be. One day when I was twenty-five, after saving my whole life to buy a stallion, we went to a show. I did my biddin’, won the auction, and trailered my new stud back home. I’d never been so happy, but don’t tell Thelma I said that. The next day I was eager to get things started. I knew ranchers would have their broodmares lining up to breed with him. He was going to make me rich.”

  It must have happened almost fifty years ago, but I can see how fresh the memory still is for him. My heart races. “What happened?”

  “Come mornin’, damn horse was dead in his stall.”

  I gasp. “What? How?”

  “Vet said his reins got tangled up in the stall door. Died of asphyxiation. Blamed me for leavin’ tack on him. But the thing is, I didn’t leave him tacked up. I knew better. I mean, yeah, sometimes we leave halters on them, but the rest? Never.”

  “You think Joel did it?”

  “I know he did. He practically gloated the next time I saw him. Bragged about his oil business and how he was the richest man under thirty in the county.”

  “And the police never did anything?”

  “How could I prove I didn’t leave his bridle on? Everyone knew how excited I was. Roger and I had drinks that night to celebrate. The police said I probably had one too many. Besides, Joel didn’t have a bad rep back then. Everything he did was under the radar. No one would have believed me. They’d have said I was jealous, that Joel was rich, and he had nothing to gain by killing my stallion. But they were wrong. He had everything to gain. A few months later, he bought two stallions. Had them shipped from Europe even. He became the go-to guy around these parts if you wanted the best Quarter Horse bloodlines, and he never let me forget it.”

  “Mr. Jenkins, that’s terrible.”

  “Been here my whole life, Andie. I could tell you a dozen more stories about backhanded tactics, corrupt deals, and lowlife antics concerning that family. I suspect every town has a Joel Thompson. It’s something you learn to live with. I’m over seventy years old. I’ve had a good life, despite what he did to me. Got me a lovin’ wife, a prosperous ranch, and God-fearin’ children. What more could an old man want? I’d love to buy Devil’s Horn Ranch, but I won’t jeopardize what I have to take it from the Thompsons.”

  “Please fight for it, Mr. Jenkins. There’s no one who could run Devil’s Horn Ranch better than you.”

  “I appreciate the vote of confidence, Andie.” His attention turns to his pregnant mare. “She gonna be okay?”

  “Henny will be fine. She’s overdue is all. Like any female, she’s going to be uncomfortable and irritable at this stage of her pregnancy. Is there anything else while I’m here?”

  “Not today.”

  “Then I’ll see you Friday on my normal rounds.”

  “You’re a good girl, Andie. You remind me a lot of Thelma when she was your age. But good girls don’t need to go stirrin’ up trouble, you hear me? Best to steer clear of the Thompsons. You let others deal with the issues out at Devil’s Horn Ranch.”

  “Okay, Mr. Jenkins.”

  He walks me out. “Why do I feel like you just fed me a line of horse manure?”

  There’s a knock at six fifty-five. I check my appearance one last time before answering the door.

&
nbsp; Maddox is engaged in a balancing act. He’s got a picnic basket draped over one arm, a bottle of wine in one hand, and a bunch of wild orchids in another. I quickly glance around to make sure we’re unobserved.

  “Get in here,” I say, taking the bottle of wine before he drops it.

  “Stay, Beau,” he says then walks in. “If I had a third hand, I’d have brought your mail. It’s sitting in my kitchen. I’ll run it over later.”

  “You shouldn’t be seen with all this stuff. People will think we’re on a date.”

  “Who cares what the guys think?”

  “Me. I care. They know I’m seeing Victor, and they’d think I was cheating on him. They probably call me a slut behind my back.”

  “They don’t.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I’d know. I’m getting tight with some of them.”

  “Still, we shouldn’t be giving people the wrong idea.” I inhale. “Maddox, what is that incredible smell?”

  He puts everything down, opens the picnic basket, and pulls out a dish full of short ribs. My eyes snap to his. “You made these? But you can’t cook.”

  “I’ve been learning. Well, I’ve only learned how to make this one thing, but I heard you say it was your favorite.”

  “So you thought you’d start there? That’s not ambitious at all. How did you make them?”

  “Dutch oven.”

  “You make sandwiches and pasta. I’m surprised you even know what a Dutch oven is.”

  “Wait until you taste them. You’ll want to marry me.”

  My cheeks heat.

  He smiles. “I’m kind of the whole package. I can cook, play backgammon, and I look damn fine in a cowboy hat.”

  He’s not wrong. He does look good in a cowboy hat. “Cocky much?”

  “Where do you want the food?” I point to the dining table. He takes more dishes out of the picnic basket. “I hope you like mashed potatoes and cooked carrots. I googled what goes well with short ribs.”

  “It all sounds wonderful.”

  He takes the flowers to the kitchen and starts to throw them out. “Stop!”

  “If this isn’t a date, no flowers.”