Official Duty

by Doreen Roberts

  Cully didn’t want to think about that. “So then you called the investigator?”

  “No.” She took a sip of her coffee and put down the cup. “I never did. I didn’t want anything that belonged to Brandon. Not his watch, not his ring, not his money, not the house, nothing. Ginny Pierce was dead. I was Justine Madison. The death of Brandon Pierce had nothing to do with me.”

  “Well, I’d say you were well rid of him.” It wasn’t what he wanted to say but it was the safest right then.

  “Yes, I suppose I am. If only I could get rid of the nightmares as easily. They still haunt me. Day and night.”

  “Maybe you should talk to someone. You know, someone who knows how to help with that kind of thing.”

  “You mean a shrink?”

  Her face looked so stricken he hurried to reassure her. “No, not a shrink. A doctor, perhaps. He might be able to give you something to help—” A low growl from Rags interrupted him.

  He glanced down at the big dog. “What’s the matter, boy?”

  Rags lifted his head and growled again. At his side, Puddles rolled over and stood, his short brown ears pricked and his feathery tail alert.

  Cully frowned. Something had disturbed the dogs. Maybe a coyote howling in the distance, though he hadn’t heard anything. He glanced at Ginny. She was watching the dogs with the same odd look she’d worn that morning in his Jeep.

  What was it she’d said earlier?

  There’s a minivan parked at the motel and I have the feeling it’s following me.

  Maybe she hadn’t imagined it after all. She certainly hadn’t imagined the missing key. Now that he thought about it, he seemed to remember a minivan passing him outside the lawyer’s office.

  Rags growled again and got to his feet, his fur rising in a furry ridge between his shoulder blades. Cully rose with him. “Stay here,” he said briefly. “I’m going to take a look around.”

  She nodded, her fingers white as they clasped her cup. She looked scared and yet there was a defiant tilt to her head that dared anyone to mess with her. It was a gesture he’d seen a lot in the past. It heartened him to know she hadn’t lost that gritty streak of courage.

  No one was ever going to hurt her again. Not if he could help it. He wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to achieve that but right then it was enough to make that promise to himself.

  He left her alone in the dining room and headed for the back door. Rags was ahead of him already, his growl erupting into a warning bark. Puddles yapped in unison and the second the door was opened, both dogs streaked outside like bullets from a shotgun.

  Lyla spoke from behind him. “Whatever’s the matter with those two tonight?”

  “I don’t know,” Cully said grimly. “But I aim to find out.” He paused long enough to grab a flashlight from the closet by the door, then he was outside, listening to the throaty barking of the dogs. There was no doubt they were excited about something. It could be a coyote disturbing the horses, though he couldn’t hear them whinnying—a sure sign that they were uneasy. Switching on the flashlight, he raced after the dogs. Above his head a huge cloud covered half the moon. Even so, there was enough light to see the dogs at the fence, both of them standing with their feet braced apart, hackles raised and barking like crazy. Something was out there and by the sound of it, whatever it was had no business being there.

  INSIDE THE HOUSE Ginny listened to the faint barking of the dogs, twisting her cup round and round in her fingers. She’d been on edge ever since Cully had told her about the missing key. If Cully was right, then it was possible she hadn’t imagined the noises. There could have been someone in the basement while she was in the house. The thought made her flesh creep.

  It could have been the Corbetts’ killer. Didn’t murderers sometimes return to the scene of the crime? She shuddered at the thought. At least she had the compensation of knowing it wasn’t her mind playing tricks.

  Then again, if she hadn’t imagined the noises in the basement, what about the rest of it? Did that mean the footsteps in the graveyard, the minivan and the voice whispering her name were all real, too?

  Confused now, she wasn’t sure if she preferred the thought of losing her mind or dealing with a real stalker out there. Either one was a terrifying prospect.

  The sound of the dogs scampering back through the kitchen brought a measure of relief. Right then she didn’t want to be alone. Lyla’s cheerful voice called out from somewhere. “What was it, a coyote?”

  Cully’s gruff answer was too low to hear but now the dogs were in the dining room, nudging her knees with their noses, eager to be petted. She obliged, leaning down to reach Puddles’s silky ears with one hand, while scratching Rags’s head with the other.

  “Looks like you got yourself some new friends.”

  She raised her chin to find Cully standing in the doorway watching her with a guarded expression in his eyes that worried her. She dropped her gaze to the dogs again. “Did you see anything out there?”

  “Nope.” He came back to the table and sat down, reaching for his coffee. “The dogs chased around for a bit, sniffing the ground like something had been there, but it was too dark to see beyond the fence.”

  He paused and her pulse skipped. “What is it?”

  His frown vanished and he smiled at her. “Nothing. I guess I’d better get you back to the motel.”

  She glanced at her watch, surprised to see it was so late. “I’m sorry, I had no idea.” She got up from the table, bringing both dogs to their feet again, tails wagging. “I should have driven myself out here. It will take you over an hour to drive back to town and home again.”

  “That’s okay. I’m used to it.” He waited for her to thank Lyla for the delicious meal and receive a wet and slobbery farewell from the dogs, before ushering her out to his Jeep.

  “Come again,” Lyla called out as Ginny climbed into the car. “This place is far too quiet without company.”

  Ginny waved to the housekeeper, who waited until Cully had started the engine before closing the door, shutting the dogs inside the house.

  “I like your house,” Ginny said, as they started down the narrow road that led to the highway. She’d been impressed by the guest rooms on the top floor of the house. The sloping ceilings and dormer windows added an old-world charm to the bedrooms and the old-fashioned bathroom had a footed tub that she adored.

  “Thanks. It’s kind of big for one person, I guess, but I like having all that space around me.”

  “Lyla does a good job of taking care of it.”

  “She’s been with me for five years now.” Cully changed gears and the Jeep speeded up. “I was lucky to find her. Her husband died right about the time I bought the ranch. Sally told me Lyla was looking for a job housekeeping. I needed someone to take care of the ranch, so it worked out well for both of us.”

  “I’m surprised you don’t have a wife to share that lovely home.” It had to be the wine, she thought, loosening her tongue. Normally she would never have uttered that thought aloud.

  She hoped that he’d ignore the comment and change the subject. Instead, she heard him say quietly, “I guess I never found anyone interested enough in that position.”

  There was that awkward silence again. In order to break it she said brusquely, “There are worse things than living on your own.”

  “So I hear.”

  He’d sounded angry and his next question told her why. “Why did you stay with him so long? Eleven years is a long time to put up with that kind of brutality.”

  She thought about it. “I guess I was afraid he’d come after me and carry out his threat. It wasn’t until I got really desperate that I found the courage to take the risk.”

  “There is such a thing as police protection, you know. He must have left marks, bruises. Didn’t anyone ask about them?”

  Her throat ached with the effort to keep her voice steady. “I didn’t see much of anyone. When I did go out I covered everything up with makeup. I know it’
s hard for you to understand, but he was a powerful man. I was afraid of what he’d do to me if I told anyone.”

  “The bastard.”

  The muttered curse was strangely comforting. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said unsteadily. “He’s dead now, and he can’t hurt me anymore.”

  “It’s what he’s done to your mind,” Cully said fiercely. “He’s changed you, made you afraid. The Ginny I knew was never afraid of anything. Or anyone.”

  “You think I’m paranoid, too,” she said miserably.

  “No, I don’t! Of course I don’t.” His voice was harsh, startling her. “I didn’t mean that. I believe the noises you heard in the house today could have been real.”

  “What about the minivan, and the footsteps in the graveyard?”

  She could tell by his momentary silence that he was uncomfortable. “Ginny, right now I can’t honestly say what I believe. All I know is that two innocent people were murdered, for no apparent reason. I’ll get to the bottom of it. That’s a promise. You can trust me on that.”

  Yes, she thought, with a little rush of warmth, she would gladly trust him with her life. She clung to that thought all the way back to town, while Cully chatted about his ranch and the horses he loved so much.

  “You should come out again, take a ride with me and see the rest of the spread,” he said, as they pulled into the parking lot of the Sagebrush Motel.

  “I’d like that.” She’d spoken automatically, her gaze raking the parking lot for sight of the gray minivan. There were only a half dozen cars parked outside the motel, hers included. None of them looked remotely like a minivan.

  “What about tomorrow? Right after we check out your basement. You can pick up the stuff for Paul while we’re there, and then we could have lunch before we head back to the Black Diamond. Maybe drop in on the Red Steer so you can see Sally.”

  His words penetrated and she tried to calm the uneasy pounding of her heart. “That sounds wonderful. I’d love that. I haven’t been riding in so long, though. I hope I remember how.”

  “Easy as falling off a bike.” His face, reflected in the light from the streetlamps, looked stern, as if he were already regretting the invitation.

  Now she felt awkward again. “Thank you, Cully. I enjoyed this evening very much. You were right about Lyla. She’s a wonderful cook. And the dogs are so adorable.”

  “Our pleasure, ma’am. Glad you had a good time.”

  “Well, good night.” She thought about offering her hand but after tonight it seemed too formal. Instead she reached for the door handle. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning then?”

  “I’ll pick you up around nine-thirty. That will give you time to have some breakfast.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  She opened the door, just as he added, “I’ll come in with you, just to make sure everything’s okay.”

  A chill of apprehension chased away the warm glow. She didn’t argue but dropped to the ground, her gaze once more probing the shadows in the parking lot.

  Now she was glad of his company as they walked over to the shabby building. The wind tossed the branches of the cottonwoods, making them whisper and sing in the quiet of the night. She was on edge—listening for sounds that weren’t there. All she could hear was the quiet hum of a car engine passing by on the highway and the echo of Cully’s boots on the pavement.

  The rows of flimsy wooden doors looked vulnerable, a fragile barrier to the rooms within. She was letting her jumpy nerves get to her again, she told herself, as she led Cully to the door of her room. He waited for her to unlock the door and she had trouble finding the key in the depths of her purse.

  The door had a deadbolt lock. Obviously the owner of the Sagebrush wasn’t investing in anything as modern as a card slot. With fingers that weren’t too steady, she fitted the key into the lock.

  To her dismay, it wouldn’t turn, no matter how hard she jiggled it. “This place should be pulled down and rebuilt,” she muttered, giving the door an angry thump. The door swung open, startling her.

  Stepping inside, she slid her hand along the wall and felt for the switch that would turn on the lights. Conscious of Cully right behind her, she stepped into the room, then stopped short, ice shooting through her veins at the sight that met her eyes.

  Cully bumped into her, then muttered, “What the—?”

  Ginny’s lips felt frozen as she tried to answer him. Every drawer in the cheap dresser had been pulled out onto the floor.

  The mattress had been thrown from the bed, lying on top of the covers heaped beneath it.

  Broken glass littered the floor in front of the television, which had a huge gash in the screen. Her garment bag had been ripped open, her clothes scattered everywhere. It looked as if a pack of wild dogs had rampaged through the room, destroying everything in their path.

  Cully pushed past her and strode to the bathroom, cursing when he opened the door. On shaking legs she followed him and peered past his shoulder. Everything she’d left in a neat row—hairspray, cosmetics, comb, brush, toothpaste and toothbrush—all of it lay trampled on the floor.

  She made a little sound in the back of her throat.

  He whirled around and it seemed so natural when he folded his arms around her, as if they had both been waiting all night for it to happen.

  “Well,” Cully said softly, “I reckon we can rule out your worries about being paranoid. Whoever did this is a real person, all right, and by the looks of it, he’s pretty serious.”

  Chapter Seven

  Cully’s deputies arrived a few minutes after he placed the call. He introduced them to Ginny and she shook hands with both of them, aware of their curious glances as they went about the task of dusting the room for fingerprints.

  Cory, a tall, lean man with piercing blue eyes and a quick smile, seemed to remember her, though she couldn’t place him.

  “I remember you in school,” he told her, his keen gaze darting about the room. “Feisty little thing you were back then.”

  Cully cleared his throat. “Let’s make this quick, guys. We need to clear up this place so Ms. Matthews can get to bed.”

  The look Cory sent Cully was totally lecherous.

  Cully ignored it but Ginny wasn’t about to let them get the wrong idea. “Cully was giving me a ride home,” she said, staring Cory in the eye. “If he hadn’t been here I would have walked in on this alone.”

  “Uh-huh.” Cory’s tone made it obvious he wasn’t buying her explanation.

  Jed was more polite. “Not a very good welcome to our little town, ma’am.” He jammed a thumb under the brim of his hat to lift it above his brow. “Can you tell me what’s missing?”

  “Nothing, as far as I can see.” She gestured at her garment bag and the scattered clothes. “That’s pretty much all I brought with me. Anything of value, like my credit cards and cash, I had with me in my purse.”

  “No camera, jewelry, gifts you might have bought?”

  She shook her head. “Whoever did this went to a lot of trouble for nothing.”

  Jed exchanged a meaningful glance with Cully. “Yeah, well, we don’t get too much petty crime in this town. Too bad he had to pick your room.” Jed walked over to the open door of the closet and peered inside. “We’ll get this taken care of, Cully, and be out of your hair in no time.”

  Cully looked grateful. “Thanks, Jed. Meanwhile I’d better go talk to the manager.” He nodded at Ginny as he walked to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

  She watched him leave, wishing she knew what it was Jed had communicated to him.

  Cory seemed absorbed in what he was doing, while Jed attempted to make conversation with her as he worked. Ginny was too shaken up to pay much attention to what he said.

  Before long Cully was back, his expression serious. Both deputies looked up as he walked through the door.

  “Anything?” Jed asked.

  Cully shook his head. “The guy heard nothing, saw nothing. I’m not surprised, cons
idering how loud the TV was blaring.”

  “Well, we’ll check these out and get back to you in the morning. By the way, the lock on the door was forced open. That’s why the key wouldn’t work.” Jed sent Ginny a smile. “Good night, ma’am. Hope you can get a good night’s sleep after this.”

  “Yeah,” Cory murmured as he followed Jed out the door. “Sleep well, you two.”

  Cully sent him a lethal glance, while Ginny pretended she hadn’t heard the sly dig.

  The door closed behind them, leaving her alone with Cully. Right then she badly needed a hug. That moment earlier had been all too brief. Just when she was beginning to enjoy the sensation of being in his arms, he’d let her go and become thoroughly businesslike.

  Looking at his face now, the intent frown between his dark brows, she wondered if he’d even realized he’d been holding her.

  He stared at the floor, apparently deep in thought. Before she could ask him what was on his mind, he said abruptly, “I guess we can clean up this mess now.”

  He started replacing the drawers and she picked up her clothes to throw back into them. Her garment bag was ruined and she dumped it back in the closet, making a mental note to buy a new one.

  Cully crouched in front of the TV, gathering up the broken glass. She left him to the task and headed for the bathroom. Her hands shook as she replaced all the items back on the shelf. Although Cully was in the next room, she felt defenseless, her quivering nerves jumping at the slightest sound. She couldn’t wait to get out of there, back where she could feel his comforting strength, his calm assurance.

  Finally she had everything picked up. Cully had replaced the mattress when she went back into the room and was struggling to spread the covers evenly over the bed.