Cowboy Conspiracy

by Joanna Wayne

  All the cops had to do was check his license and run it though the system. Then they’d have been over his vehicle like cheese on an enchilada. A few measly ounces was enough to send him straight back to prison.

  He’d had no choice but to take off running, dodging the traffic on South Shepherd and then cutting through a neighborhood. It had been pure luck he’d happened on the woman unlocking her Corvette. She’d practically thrown her keys at him the second she saw his gun.

  But stealing the car belonging to Kelly Callister Burger had been like winning the lottery. Not only did he plan to make her squirm before he had his way with her, but she might just bring him enough change to take care of all his needs for the time being.

  Money he’d been cheated out of almost twenty years ago.

  He wondered what assassin fees were these days. He’d been behind bars so long he was out of the loop. He figured fifty grand was reasonable.

  He downed another gulp of whiskey, picked up his new prepaid cell phone and made a call. The phone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “I hope you’re alone, because I have an offer you can’t afford to refuse.”

  Chapter Ten

  There were two pickup trucks and one large work truck fully equipped with tree-trimming equipment parked in Kelly’s driveway when she and Wyatt pulled up after lunch. Left with an hour and a half of free time before Kelly could get her belongings from her car, going by the house seemed to make more sense than driving all the way back to the ranch and then into town again.

  Kelly had called to check on Jaci twice, and both times Julie had assured her that she was having a marvelous time with Jaci. Jaci’s excited voice had convinced Kelly that the same was true for her.

  Kelly studied the swarm of activity as she and Wyatt climbed from the truck to the clattering roar of gas-powered engines. Four muscular men in hard hats, goggles, jeans and work boots were on her roof, handling oversize chain saws with the ease she exhibited maneuvering a broom.

  The damage looked far more extensive in the daylight. The main trunk of the oak had apparently been split almost down the middle by the lightning bolt Sheriff McGuire had mentioned. Evidently last night’s storm had finished ripping it apart. Half of the tree had landed squarely on top of her house.

  Dakota waved and moved toward them. “The fun started without you.”

  “I can tell,” Kelly said. “Seeing this in the daytime, I guess I’m lucky the house is still standing.”

  “It may not be as bad as it looks,” Dakota said.

  “Good,” Wyatt said, “because from here, I’d say the best bet would be to tear it down and start over.”

  Just what Kelly didn’t need to hear.

  “Cory wants to talk to you about cutting down the rest of the tree,” Dakota said to Kelly. “He thinks… Well, I’ll let him tell you. He’s the one with his feet planted on terra firma and supervising.”

  Wyatt put a hand to the small of her back as they approached the house. “You and Dakota go ahead and talk to Cory. I’d like to take a look inside.”

  “Is it safe?” she asked.

  “That’s what I’d like to find out.”

  “There’s a tree limb blocking the front door,” she said, stating the obvious.

  “Which is why I’ll go in through the back.”

  “I don’t have my keys with me.”

  “Vampires walk through walls.” He flashed a wicked smile and walked away.

  Dakota made the introductions.

  Cory took off his goggles and propped a booted foot on one of the stump-size tree cuttings. “We’ve got a mess here, but it will all be cleaned up before we leave. Like I told Dakota, I think you ought to let me go ahead and cut down what’s left of the tree while I’m here.”

  “It is an eyesore now,” she agreed.

  “It’s worse than that. It’s dying. See how the bark is falling off the part of the tree that’s still standing? You’ll have to take it down eventually to avoid the risk of it falling on the house, too. May as well let us do it now.”

  “How much is all of this going to cost?”

  “If I hadn’t seen the way Wyatt was looking at you a minute ago, I’d say a date for dinner. As it is, I’ll just take those steaks Dakota offered—butchered and freezer wrapped.”

  Dakota adjusted his sunglasses. “You drive a hard bargain, man.”

  “I’ll pay for the work,” Kelly said.

  “Don’t worry about it. When I need a favor, I’ll holler at Dakota. It evens out in the long run. We go way back.”

  But she and Dakota didn’t. No one in this family had even met her before yesterday. They owed her nothing.

  “So, do I take the tree out?” Cory asked.

  “I guess it’s the only thing that makes sense. So, yes. Chop my once beautiful tree to the ground.”

  “You can grow another just like it in another hundred years,” Cory said.

  “You tree men are all heart.”

  “I don’t get you Ledgers,” Kelly said, after Cory had walked away and started shouting orders to his crew. “Why go to all this trouble for me when you’ve just met me?”

  Dakota shrugged. “Wyatt obviously likes you and he’s our brother. It’s the cowboy code to help when you can, fight when you have to and never squat with your spurs on. Take your pick.”

  In that case she’d take the first one. She was definitely attracted to Wyatt, but it couldn’t possibly be more than just physical at this point. They didn’t know each other well enough for it to be more.

  Yet, she was already trusting Wyatt with her life and Jaci’s. She’d moved into his house. Had shared pancakes at midnight with him. She’d even confessed to helping the prosecution with their case against Emanuel Leaky.

  All that within hours after meeting Wyatt.

  Heaven help her if she’d made a mistake.

  “Kelly, come here a minute, will you?”

  “You’re being paged,” Dakota said.

  She looked back toward the house. Wyatt was standing in the side yard, his shirtsleeves rolled up above his elbows despite the cold. His Stetson was pushed to the back of his head. Rumpled locks of copper-streaked hair fell about his forehead.

  He absolutely stole her breath away.

  “I’ll be right there,” she called back. “Thanks, Dakota. I guess I owe you a favor now.”

  “You can babysit Briana any night.”

  “That’s a deal.”

  She strode across the yard to where Wyatt was standing, doing her best to avoid the worst of the mud and the surge of attraction that had just spiked inside her like a rocket at blastoff.

  “I hope you didn’t call me over to tell me the house should be gutted.”

  “Actually, I think Dakota is right. It could be a lot worse. The soaked carpet has to go. So does the wet Sheetrock and a good deal of the molding, but the house itself seems to be sound. I can’t guarantee that from just a cursory look, but I can tell you they don’t build houses like this anymore.”

  “Finally, good news. Better pinch me to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

  “I can do better than that.”

  Taking her totally by surprise, Wyatt leaned in close. The air evaporated from her lungs. When his lips touched hers, she trembled like a schoolgirl, desire tripping through her like shooting stars.

  Her head was spinning, her knees weak when he pulled away.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Probably not the best idea to kiss you with an audience around, but I’ve wanted to do that ever since I found you attacking the innocent motorbike.”

  “You like it rough, do you, cowboy?” she teased, trying to recover from the desire still rocking her body.

  “I’ll take it any way you dish it out. But I actually called you to take a look at some boxes I found in the back room.”

  She followed him through the back door which he’d obviously had no trouble unlocking since the top half was busted glass. He led her to what had been Grams’s bedroom.<
br />
  Three cardboard boxes sat in the middle of the floor. Kelly’s name was printed on each one with a black marker. They were dry, but there was standing water on the floor next to the closet.

  “I was checking out that leak in the closet when I found the boxes. If you want them, we should take them with us before they get wet.”

  She stared at the boxes, hesitant to open them for fear they were the work of the maniac who’d left the text message.

  “Mother paid someone to clear out the house after Grams died. She was supposed to donate anything of value to a local charity. The rest was supposed to be trash.”

  “Maybe she left these because they have your name on them.”

  “I’m a little gun-shy after all the negative surprises in the last twenty-four hours,” Kelly said.

  “Caution is always wise. Should I open one for you?”

  “Please do, but watch out for slithering snakes, hairy spiders or stinging scorpions.”

  “A few of those may be in there even if the contents are legit. This is Texas.”

  Wyatt slit through the masking tape and opened the first box. A bright red homemade Valentine with glitter and dried globs of paint rested on top. The words I Love You were printed in uneven letters.

  A choking lump settled at the back of Kelly’s throat.

  “Your handiwork?” Wyatt asked.

  “Yes. I remember making that. I think I was about six at the time.”

  “Then I guess these boxes are keepers.”

  She nodded. “Grams must have packed these away for me before the Alzheimer’s became so debilitating.”

  “I’ll load them in the truck.”

  A kiss from Wyatt that suggested it was only the beginning and mementos from Grams.

  Even the ravages of nature loosed on her roof and a maniac with a vulgar vocabulary couldn’t spoil those.

  At least not until the next blow fell.

  DINNER HAD DEFINITELY BEEN a celebration. Brisket and ribs from the smoker, yams, potato salad, green beans, corn, coleslaw and the best homemade yeast rolls Wyatt had ever eaten. And that was even before they got to the homemade desserts.

  Wyatt had stuffed himself again, and was still forking bites of pecan pie along with his second cup of decaf brew. The women had taken their desserts and coffee to the family room, leaving the kitchen to the men.

  “Is there any news on the car theft?” Troy asked.

  Wyatt filled them in about the stolen car being left at Kelly’s house and about the text.

  “That’s extremely bizarre,” Dakota said. “This guy must be a real kook.”

  “Possibly a dangerous kook,” Dylan said.

  “I agree,” Wyatt said. “So does the sheriff.”

  “Are you signing on as protector?” Dylan asked.

  “Unofficially. For the time being. I don’t want her going into town alone.”

  “If there’s anything I can do to help, just ask,” Dakota said. “I could use a good fight.”

  “What’s the matter?” Dylan teased. “Honeymoon getting too tame for you?”

  “Honeymoon is going just fine, bro.”

  “I’ll help any way I can,” Troy said. “Let me know later. Right now I need some brisk air and to walk off about a thousand of those calories I ate tonight.”

  Wyatt finally pushed his pie saucer away as Troy grabbed his hat and jacket and left through the back door. “If I keep eating like this, I’ll have to go out and buy some bigger jeans.”

  “We have the cure for that,” Dylan said. “There are plenty of logs that need splitting.”

  “I thought all you guys did was ride around on horseback and look good in your boots and jeans.”

  “I can see how you’d think that,” Dakota said. “But the looking good part just comes naturally.”

  “So what did you guys do, have a cook-off and marry the winners?” Wyatt asked.

  “No, we had to teach them how to find their way around a kitchen,” Dylan said. “We just married the hottest women we could find.”

  Dakota lifted his coffee cup. “I’ll drink to that.”

  “And the smartest,” Sean added.

  “Absolutely,” Dakota agreed. “It’s not easy sleeping with a woman every night who’s smarter than you are.”

  “Too bad Tyler’s not here tonight,” Dylan said, “instead of on duty in Afghanistan. Then we’d all be together, right back where we started. The sons of Troy Ledger in the kitchen of the big house at Willow Creek Ranch.”

  “The sons of Troy and Helene Ledger,” Wyatt added. Not that he thought his brothers had forgotten their mother, but they sure seemed to have forgotten that Troy had been convicted of her murder.

  They ignored the facts of the trial completely. Either they’d never bothered to read the full transcript or they’d dismissed as unimportant some key points.

  Troy had let the prosecution build a case on circumstantial evidence without offering anything substantial in his defense. He hadn’t even explained Helene’s having packed her bags the day she was murdered. Instead he’d acted as if he had no clue as to why she was leaving him.

  “I know what you think, Wyatt,” Dylan said. “But Dad didn’t kill Mom. They loved each other.”

  “So how do you guys explain away the evidence—like the packed bags that indicated Mom was leaving Troy?”

  “She could have been just going to see her parents,” Sean said. “That’s not the same as leaving Dad.”

  “Mother would be the first to tell us to stick by Dad,” Dylan said. “Just give him a chance. Talk to him.”

  “I plan to spend lots of time talking to him.”

  “I can’t argue with what you’re doing,” Sean said. “I never expected to set foot on this ranch again and with you coming from a Homicide background, it must make it even harder to see past Dad’s conviction. But I agree with Dylan. Dad loved Mother. I’m more convinced of that every day. Eve thought the same long before she met me and she had the advantage of being one of his prison psychiatrists.”

  Fifteen minutes later they were still talking about the trial and getting nowhere. Wyatt was thankful for the sound of footsteps on the back steps that signaled Troy’s return.

  Troy stamped the mud off his boots and then shrugged out of his jacket and hat, hanging them both on hooks near the back door.

  “Wind’s picking up something fierce,” he said as he headed for the coffeepot.

  The talk turned to more agreeable topics and Wyatt was amazed at the satisfying lives his brothers had created for themselves and their families.

  Dylan and Troy worked as partners, rebuilding the ranch and adding property and cattle to the spread. Dylan’s wife Collette was due to deliver in two weeks. They wanted a houseful of kids.

  Sean had his own horse farm in Bandera but was still in big demand all over the country as a horse whisperer—not that he called himself that. Their son Joey was in the second grade and loved horses almost as much as Sean.

  “Any plans for when you hang up the bull rope for good?” Wyatt asked Dakota.

  “Yeah,” Dakota said. “Don’t laugh or faint from shock. I know I dropped out of college after two semesters, but that was because I had bulls to ride. Anyway, I figure we have one doctor in the family, we may as well have two.”

  “Whoa,” Dylan said. “That’s the first I’ve heard about you and the possibility of med school.”

  “I haven’t mentioned it to anyone except Viviana and Troy before now, but if I can make the grades, I’d like go back to school and eventually get into an equine veterinary program, hopefully at UT, since it’s close by.”

  “I’m impressed,” Wyatt said.

  Sean gave Dakota a high five. “And think of the money I’ll save with a family rate.”

  Troy finally pulled a chair up to the table and sat down with them. “What about you, Wyatt? You must get some hellacious murder cases in the city.”

  “I did.” He likely wouldn’t get a better opportunity
than this to admit to everyone at once why he’d really returned to Mustang Run. Dakota knew so it wasn’t going to remain a secret forever.

  “I’m no longer with the Atlanta Police Department. I resigned.”

  That stunned Troy, Sean and Dylan into arched brows and silence.

  “That’s a big move,” Sean finally said. “Do you have a better offer or are you leaving law enforcement altogether?”

  “I’m moving back to Mustang Run.”

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Dylan said. “Dad and I can sure use you here at the ranch. If you don’t like the idea of ranching, I’m sure Collette’s father can sign you on as a deputy.”

  “I’m here to find out who killed Mother.”

  This time the silence grew deafening.

  Troy was the first to break it. “I wondered when you’d finally get around to that. I’ll share my findings with you and work along beside you or I can stay the hell out of your way. Your call.”

  “I’d like to see what you’ve done, but I have my own methods,” Wyatt said. “I work best alone.”

  Troy’s expression grew stony, impossible to read. “I won’t interfere, but if you don’t find the killer, Wyatt, I will. I won’t rest until I know that justice has been served for Helene.”

  Troy pushed back from the table, stood and left the room as if the situation were settled. Tension hovered over the brothers, no one saying a word.

  Finally Dylan broke the impasse. “There’s your answer. He didn’t kill her.”

  “Maybe not, but someone did. I won’t stop until I find out who.”

  KELLY TUCKED THE COVERS around her very tired daughter. She and Joey had played together like old friends. They’d started out with board games and ended up in the middle of the floor with Jaci’s dinosaurs, Joey’s action figures and the wooden pawns of an old chess set they’d found in Sean’s boyhood room while playing hide-and-seek.

  At that point, Viviana had gone home to put a sleepy Briana to bed.

  Kelly, Eve, Collette and Julie perused an old photo album filled with haunting family photographs of Troy, Helene and their five young sons. A picture of Helene in the rocker next to the hearth holding Wyatt in her arms was especially poignant.