A Rancher’s Brand of Justice

by Ann Voss Peterson

  And here he’d invited her right into the main house, set her up as a mother figure for Jason and dressed her for the part like he was trying to rewrite history.

  He needed to have a long talk with a shrink.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Let’s go.” He grabbed the door knob and yanked it open, the realization of what he’d done ringing through his body like some kind of morning alarm he’d finally awakened enough to hear.

  WHAT WAS SHE DOING ON this beast’s back?

  Melissa resisted the urge to drop the reins and grab the saddle horn with both hands. The horse veered from one side of the pen to the other, not the direction she had in mind.

  “Sit back in the saddle and raise your rein hand.” Nick stood on the ground, the lead rope in his hand controlling the horse Jason rode.

  She did what he said, but the horse didn’t seem to notice, he just kept walking wherever he pleased. This was not working. She couldn’t stand being this out of control, this inept.

  The only thing worse about this experience had been Nick teaching her how to saddle the animal. The procedure itself wasn’t that hard, but having him standing so close behind her she could feel his body heat had been uncomfortable at best. And when he’d cupped her hands in his, helping her move the straps into place….

  She shook her head and focused on preventing her horse from plowing through the fence and joining the small herd on the other side. “He won’t listen to anything I tell him. What am I doing wrong?” She cringed at the helpless shrill of her own voice.

  Leading Jason’s perfectly calm horse up next to hers, Nick frowned up at her. “You’re not taking control.”

  She could have told him that. “So how do I take control?”

  “You set your mind to it.”

  “It’s that easy, huh?”

  “No. But it’s a start. Think about how you feel when you’re driving in busy traffic.”

  She could do that. “The problem is, I don’t know where the gas pedal is. And the brake. And I obviously have absolutely no clue where to find the steering wheel.”

  “We went over all those things. Legs, weight, hand.”

  He was right. He’d explained how she squeezed the horse with her legs to get him to move forward, shifted her weight back and raised her rein hand to stop him, and moved her hand from side to side, neck reining him to turn. “Then why can’t I get those things to work?”

  “You’re not setting your mind to what you want.”

  “Setting my mind to what I want?” She had no idea what he was talking about.

  “I’ll bet in your world, you’re good at setting your mind to what you want, aren’t you?”

  “I suppose.” In her world, she identified what she wanted, and she set about getting it. She wasn’t one of those women who relied on others to do it for her. Not like her mother had been. “But that’s not the same thing.”

  “Actually it is. The horse is reading the signals you’re sending him. Those signals aren’t making sense because you’re not thinking about what you want, you’re thinking about the mechanics of riding.”

  “So I need to think about the fact that I want to go over there.” She nodded at the gate on the far side of the pen.

  “Yes. When you’re driving in traffic, you focus on getting from here to there. You signal, you press down on the gas, you move the steering wheel this way and that, but you don’t concentrate on all those little things to the point where you’re not concentrating on your goal.”

  “But that’s what I’m doing when I ride.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Got it.” At least she thought she did. She took in a deep breath of heady mountain air and focused on the gate. I want to go to that gate. I want to go to that gate. She slid her reins to the left, moving the horse off the fence. She pressed her legs against his sides. And miracle upon miracles, he stepped forward. She kept her focus glued to the gate and in no time, her mount had crossed the arena. She raised her hand and sat back in the saddle, and the gelding stopped in front of the gate.

  “See?” Nick said.

  A warm rush flowed through her body. She could do this. She could take control. And the most amazing thing was how pure the victory was, unlike the challenges she faced in her job. Animals responded in an honest way. They took advantage if you let them, but they followed if you took the lead. As long as you didn’t let them down, they didn’t let you down.

  Amazing.

  She could see why people vacationed at a ranch to escape reality and fill themselves with that rush of simple accomplishment, of control. She could see how a life like this could become addicting. And even though this brief interlude didn’t change what she needed to do, she was glad Nick had forced her to take the time to do it.

  The afternoon stretched on with more riding followed by unsaddling and cleaning up the horses, helping the ranch hands clean the barn. By the time Melissa walked side by side back to the house with Nick and Jason, she was feeling as fulfilled and exhausted as the four-year-old holding her hand.

  A brown delivery truck parked in front of the house. The driver hefted a box out of the back and carried it to the front porch. There he stacked it with three other boxes already there.

  “What the hell?” Nick said under his breath.

  Melissa eyed him. “Not expecting anything?”

  He didn’t answer, just lengthened his stride.

  Strange. Melissa was so used to ordering things online and seeing delivery trucks buzzing around Denver that she hadn’t thought twice. But apparently, a delivery truck sighting was a rare thing on the Circle J Ranch.

  They reached the truck and Nick flagged down the driver before he could pull yet another box from the back of the truck. “What’s all this?”

  “Delivery from Denver.”

  Melissa tensed.

  Nick glanced at her, then back to the driver. “Who is it from?”

  He shrugged a burly shoulder. “You Nick Raymond?”

  “Yes.”

  “I need you to sign for it.” The driver motioned to Nick to follow and circled to the front of the truck.

  As he pulled out his clipboard to make it all official, Melissa and Jason climbed the steps to the porch. Melissa paused when she reached the boxes. Leaning down, she focused on the return address. A shiver of recognition ran down her spine. She turned to find Nick climbing the porch steps. “I have to call my office.”

  He let out a heavy breath. “How about I drive you to Jackson after we get a late lunch? You can get cell service and a car rental there and be on your way back to Denver tonight, if you like.”

  And out of his hair? She held up her hands in front of her, palms out. “No. Not yet. I have to make a call first.”

  “Now you want to stay?”

  “I need to talk to Seth. And I will have to take these boxes with me.”

  He looked at her like he thought she might be half-crazy. “Come again?”

  She glanced back at the address, just to make sure. She was right. This could be important. Very important. “Do you recognize the return address?”

  He peered down at the printed label. When he brought his gaze back to her, he looked more confused than ever. “Who sent them?”

  She took a deep breath, wishing she had a way to lessen the impact of what she was about to say. “Your wife.”

  Chapter Six

  “Ex,” he said automatically. He felt dizzy, his mind whirring with what Melissa had just said. Gayle had sent boxes? After all these years, why would Gayle send him boxes?

  “And the date they were picked up…” She trailed off.

  He looked down at the date printed on one of the boxes. It held no significance to him, but he had a bad feeling he could guess what the date meant. “What about it?”

  “It’s the day.” She glanced at Jason.

  She didn’t have to elaborate about what day she meant. The boxes had been picked up the day Gayle was murdered.

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nbsp; His pulse increased its pace, thrumming in his ears. He glanced at his son. The boy looked tired. After all they’d been through yesterday, little sleep last night, and their active adventure today, surely he’d need a nap. And now was the right time. “Hey buddy, let’s get something to eat and take a nap. How about it?”

  Jason shot him a frown. He set his little chin in a clear sign of mutiny.

  Whatever points Nick had earned with the horseback ride, he had a feeling he’d just lost them. He looked to Melissa.

  She gave him a nod. “Hey Jason, come with me. Your daddy is going to make us lunch.” Melissa held out her hand.

  Jason gripped her fingers with his little ones, beaming as she led him inside.

  Nick watched them disappear down the hall. He should have known mentioning the word nap wasn’t a good idea. He just hadn’t given it much thought. His mind was still careening with the idea that these boxes could have come from Gayle herself on the day she died.

  He hauled the boxes into the den, then joined Melissa and Jason for what they were calling lunch, even though the stock would soon be looking for their evening feeding. Then while Melissa got the little guy settled in bed for his nap, Nick grabbed a box cutter and returned to the den.

  He knelt beside the closest box and eyed the return address. After three years of nothing, no word, no call, not even a damned Christmas card, she sent him five boxes? None of it made sense. But then, Gayle had never made much sense to him. And even before she’d left, she had made it perfectly clear he never made sense to her.

  Pressure assaulted his chest and tightened his throat. He wasn’t in love with Gayle any longer. Her abandonment and all the time he’d devoted to trying to find his son had killed any feelings he’d had toward her. But seeing how dependent Jason was on Melissa just drove home how much the little guy had lost when his mother died. And even though the love he once had for Gayle was dead, she still had a tight hold on him. His attraction for Melissa was evidence of that.

  He slipped the blade out from the box cutter’s plastic handle.

  “Wait.”

  He started slightly at the sound of her voice. He turned around to see Melissa standing in the doorway.

  “Don’t open them. I need to take these back to Denver sealed in case they contain some kind of evidence.”

  “Not a chance.” Nick brought razor’s edge against packing tape and slit. “I’m not going to Denver, and I want to know what Gayle sent.”

  Melissa stepped to his side for a better view.

  He opened the cardboard flaps. Removing crumpled newspaper, he exposed a jumble of action figures and a tangle of Hot Wheels tracks. “Toys?” He opened another box. This one packed with Legos, Lincoln Logs and various stuffed animals. “Jason’s, I would guess.” Too bad he hadn’t opened the boxes before the little guy fell asleep. He’d probably be thrilled to have his own toys back. But that was the only thing about this that Nick found clear. “Why would Gayle send Jason’s toys?”

  Melissa’s eyebrows hunkered low over sharp eyes. “I wonder…”

  “Wonder what?”

  She shook her head. “If she was planning to move back here to the ranch. Or at least to send Jason.”

  He blew a laugh through his nostrils. “You’re kidding, right? After all this time? Why would she do that?”

  “To get him away from whatever was going on in Denver? To hide him? To keep him safe?”

  Her theory hit him in the chest with the force of a well-aimed kick. Could it be possible? Is that what this meant?

  He cut the tape of the third box and opened the cardboard flaps. Paper packed the box, some contained neatly in file folders, some loose. He fished out a package of snapshots of Jason as a baby. The only photos Gayle had sought fit to take when she’d left.

  Melissa stepped to the couch and sat down beside him. Her scent drifted over him, something light and floral mixed with fresh air and a warm hint of horse.

  He focused on the papers in the box. “Apparently she wanted to hide more than Jason.”

  She reached into the box, pulled out a folder and started sifting through the papers inside. “Financial records. Credit card bills. Utility bills.”

  “Why would she want to hide things like that?”

  “It’s hard to say. But credit cards could tell us where she was and what she was doing during certain time periods. That might be valuable.”

  He leaned forward to get a look at the credit card bills in her hands. “Those dates are a year old.”

  Melissa frowned and nodded toward the box. “See what else is in here.”

  He focused on the stack of Gayle’s bills filling the box. “So what should I be looking for?”

  “Anything unusual, anything with the name José Sanchez, any photos, bank and phone records, personal correspondence of any kind. If there’s something here that can tie your ex-wife directly to Sanchez, that would be very helpful.”

  “José Sanchez. That’s the guy.”

  Melissa nodded.

  Somehow, having a name for the man who had killed Gayle didn’t make him feel better. Neither did seeing the fake name she’d been using—Gayle Rogers—the reason the authorities and his private investigators hadn’t been able to track her down. A heaviness bore down on his shoulders. He would have fought her for custody with everything he had. She knew that. Was that why she’d gone to such lengths to hide?

  Unable to come up with an answer, he fished out a folder and opened it. “Credit card statements.” He scanned line after line of charges for restaurants, fancy hotels, clothing boutiques and shoe stores. All the things Gayle loved and couldn’t get on a ranch in Middle-of-Nowhere, Wyoming, as she used to call the Circle J. He flipped through month after month, noting other charges, too. Ones for tot karate, tot piano lessons and the educational children’s toy stores that Gayle favored. All advantages Gayle wanted Jason to have, all things that were hard to come by around here without driving an hour or more. He flipped through the last of the statements and closed the folder.

  “See anything unusual?”

  “No.” He set the folder on two Melissa had already scanned and reached for another. Records for Gayle’s cell phone this time, lists of numbers there was no way for him to recognize, what seemed like an astronomical bill for the extra minutes she’d racked up, and little more. “You said you were interested in phone records?”

  Melissa glanced up from the file folder she’d been looking through. “Yes.” She reached out a hand.

  He gave her the folder.

  Eyebrows dipping low, she flipped through page after page. “I’ve seen her the records for her BlackBerry. Jimmy got a warrant for them. But this cell phone isn’t even with the same company.”

  “You haven’t seen these before?”

  “I didn’t even know she had a second cell phone.”

  Realizing he was watching her a little too closely, Nick pulled another file from the box, this one filled with year-to-date credit card bills. The expenditures themselves seemed much the same as the previous year.

  “Huh.”

  Nick looked up. “What is it?”

  Melissa frowned down at the cell phone records. “I don’t know. This is weird.”

  “What is?” He hadn’t seen anything weird, not that he’d recognize weirdness if it bit him, not where Gayle was concerned.

  “This number…and she’s called it over and over in the months leading up to her death.” Her tone dipped. More than serious. Closer to shocked.

  Whatever was going on, it couldn’t be good. Pressure clamped down on the back of Nick’s neck. “What number?” Nick braced himself for an answer he couldn’t fathom but still wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

  “My work number. Gayle was calling someone at the district attorney’s office.” She looked up from the paper, her eyes latching on to his. “I’m afraid this might be even more complicated than I thought.”

  MELISSA’S FINGERS trembled as she punched the number into Nick�
��s satellite phone. When she saw her office’s number on Gayle’s bill, she hadn’t known what to think. She still didn’t. But she aimed to find out what was going on.

  Seth picked up on the second ring. “Yeah.”

  She perched on the edge of the queen-size bed in her guest room. “It’s Melissa.”

  “Melissa? Are you all right? Your car—”

  “Was found in the mountains. I know. Have authorities identified the men in the sedan that went through the guardrail?”

  “No. Mel—”

  “Were they dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “There were two of them, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you get the license—”

  “Stop right there. What happened to you? Are you okay? Where are you? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you since I got the call about your car this morning.”

  Melissa pulled in a breath. Her relationship with Seth had always been all business from her first day on the job, and she liked those boundaries. But his concern for her well-being felt good all the same. “I’m fine. I’m in Wyoming.”

  “Wyoming?”

  “At Nick Raymond’s ranch.” She peered out the window. The sun had already sunk behind the mountains. Their shadows loomed against a sky still too bright to be considered twilight. She’d awakened so late, her day at the ranch seemed to be ending before it had really begun.

  “Why the hell did you go all the way up there?”

  “It wasn’t my idea, trust me. But that’s not why I’m calling.”

  “You’re calling about Essie Castillo.”

  Essie. She hadn’t even thought of Essie. “How is she?”

  “You don’t know then.”