Undercover Cowboy

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Undercover Cowboy Page 3

by Lynde Lakes


  “All of her life,” Matt said, “she has confronted problems and people head on. Me especially. If she knew about the threats, she’d jump into the action. Your job is to keep her out of it. Stay with her every minute. If she balks, kidnap her if you have to. Put her somewhere safe—anywhere to give me time to find out where the threats are coming from and get the bastards involved.” Matt paused and gave Nick a long, hard look. Nick had known him long enough not to be intimidated and waited unruffled for the warning that was sure to come. “I know how you are with the ladies,” Matt continued. “Remember, she’s my daughter and off limits!”

  Nick recoiled, stunned. He couldn’t have felt the blow more if his friend had uppercut him in the jaw. “Damn it, Matt. You didn’t have to tell me that.”

  “Sorry, but I know how beguiling she can be to get her way. She might even throw herself at you to spite me. She gets a kick out of antics like that.”

  To Nick, she sounded like an out of control spoiled brat rather than a woman pushing twenty-one. He would bow out now if he hadn’t discovered the honey. But this was no longer a simple bodyguard job. Now he had to see this through and uncover the connection between the Honey Murders and the corpse. The Bureau believed it was mainly about threatening notes against Matt’s family. And it could be. De Fuego, the guy Nick put in prison, had long arms and rumors had it that he’d ordered a hit on Matt’s daughter. But what if it was more complicated?

  ****

  Mom and Aunt Amber rode close together and talked in low, concerned voices. “You know this may be about the offer we got on the east forty,” Mom said. “After we rejected it, someone killed a dozen cows and now a body’s turned up.”

  “Maybe,” Aunt Amber said with doubt in her voice.

  Mom glanced at Sara Jane with concerned eyes as though wondering if she’d overheard their discussion. After a moment, she returned her attention to Aunt Amber and changed the subject. “Where’s Erik?” she asked. “I haven’t seen much of him.”

  “Studying for his entrance exam,” Aunt Amber said. “That is, when he’s not running to Stampede Junction to see some little gal or other.”

  “Well, we don’t have to worry about him,” Mom said with affection in her voice. “He’s smart and will go far.”

  Aunt Amber sighed. “That is, if the young women in the county will just leave him be. His good looks could turn into a curse.”

  Sara Jane shook her head and rolled her eyes skyward and turned her attention to her dad and Nick. Deep in conversation, they scowled at each other. A chill went up her spine. Please don’t let that be about another FBI job. What if this murder had something to do with an old case? But how could it? No one had even known about the dead woman until today. Was Mom as concerned about having two FBI men on the property as she was? That brought up another question; where was the other agent now?

  It was almost 3:00 p.m., and the heat inched upward, warming the billowing wind. Usually by noon the temperature stalled around 100 degrees Fahrenheit, but today it had shot over the mark, making the air thick and the heat inescapable. Sara Jane had been concentrating on Nick so intently she wasn’t aware when the terrain changed to rougher, more desolate land. The mesquite grove where the corpse waited was just around the next bend in the path. Sara Jane swallowed and tensed in readiness to face the grim scene. Lord, let me handle this well, my freedom could depend on it. And don’t let me show any weakness in front of Nick. No way did she want to give him ammunition to use against her.

  Chapter Two

  When the grim group of Ryans and lawmen arrived at the murder site, Sara Jane kicked her leg over her horse and slid off, dismounting on the run, the saddle leather groaning with the off-balance shift of weight. The sheriff and her dad called to her, but she kept going. She half expected the body to be gone, but there it was in all its horror—only worse. The stench had intensified and insects hummed and dove in looking for their supper. Then she noticed the bracelet was gone!

  Nick caught up with her and grabbed her arm. “That’s close enough. The sheriff won’t want you tromping all over the crime scene.” For a moment, she stared at the hand on her arm, and briefly considered taking hold of it. Just for the comfort of contact with a living human being. She shook off his hold. “Did you take the bracelet?”

  “What?” His gaze shot to the body. “Damn it. I wish I had. Sheriff, we have a problem.”

  The sheriff and the forensics team joined them, carrying their bags of equipment and wearing water-resistant paper boot-covers. The sheriff handed a pair to Nick. “What’s the difficulty?” he asked. “Someone took the bracelet I told you about,” Nick said.

  The sheriff scratched his head. “You shoulda’ secured it.”

  “In retrospect, yeah. But I was trying to preserve the crime scene for your boys.”

  The sheriff didn’t respond to that, but his jaw twitched as he stared down at the body. He took in a long draw of air and exhaled. “Either of you touch anything?” His emphasis on the word “you” revealed his frustration.

  “We both did,” Nick said, “but I used gloves.” Frowning, Nick pulled Latex gloves from his pocket and smoothed them onto his hands as if he were one of the forensics team.

  “Big deal,” Sara Jane muttered, still upset about the missing bracelet. “Normal folks don’t carry a supply of Latex in their pockets.”

  “Make my job easier if they did,” the sheriff grumbled as he watched Ed string up yellow caution tape around the crime scene.

  When Ed finished cordoning the area, the sheriff gruffly asked Sara Jane to step back behind the tape. After he gave the same order to Uncle Luke and Aunt Amber, he began to talk in his slow drawl into his recorder, describing everything he found significant, no doubt burning everything into his mind as well. She wondered how he and his men could deal with corpses. That part of their work had to be a real downer. She was sure she’d have nightmares from this for weeks. Ed and Joe didn’t seem to mind. They worked over every inch of the crime scene, taking pictures of the body from every angle and making both written and recorded notes. Joe sketched the area and the placement of the body, calculating distances from his designated benchmarks.

  From behind the yellow tape, Mom put a long-range lens on her camera and began circling and snapping pictures. At one point, she stopped and wiped moisture from her eyes. It was amazing that she could continue. Aunt Amber and Uncle Luke stood at a distance in an area near the horses, no doubt to discuss and worry over what finding a body on the Bar R meant. They were probably as worried about Cousin Alicia as Dad was about her, but they never restricted Alicia. She had her good-girl act down to a science, fooling everyone but Sara Jane.

  Dad joined the sheriff, and the two men talked in low voices. She heard the word bracelet. Nick remained with the forensics team. When Ed and Joe finished checking the body and taking their pictures, Nick bent down and touched the corpse’s hair gently. “Smell that chemical?” he asked. He eased the head aside and showed Joe something. Joe’s eyes lit up. In spite of Sara Jane’s aversion to the smell and the annoying insects, she stepped closer, curious to hear what had excited Joe. From what they were saying, the woman had been killed somewhere else, and once here, the killer had poured red dye into her hair and worked it into the tresses.

  Joe shook his head. “I missed the red dye spilled on the ground cuz it looked like blood. ’Course we woulda caught it at the lab.”

  Sara Jane rubbed her arms at the thought of what the dye might mean—the hair color was one reason she and the corpse looked so much alike. Was this a warning to her? A chill slipped down her spine. Or was it a warning to her dad? She glanced at her father, his arms folded tight against his chest, as he watched the grim fieldwork. What was going through his head and how much did he know about all this? And what did Nick know? It was strange that he recognized the dye and detected the chemical over the strong odor of decay. Was his examination of the body that thorough, or did he know what to look for? He would, if he saw a c
onnection between this murder and a FBI case in progress. A chill slid down her spine. She said a silent prayer that her dad wouldn’t be dragged into service again.

  Nick pointed to some leaves and twigs around the body. “See this honey? After the killer dumped the woman here, he must’ve poured it over her.”

  An image of a coyote eating the woman’s face sent Sara Jane running to the bushes to empty her stomach. Then it hit her. She had found the body face down! She did a fast clean up and rushed back to Nick and Joe. “Honey doesn’t make sense,” she said. “I found her face down. So, no animal did that.”

  “You’re right,” Nick said as though he were in charge of the investigation. “The honey only served as the killer’s signature. The bastard stabbed her in the neck, just under the chin, and peeled off her face.”

  That gruesome revelation sent Sara Jane running to the bushes again. To her embarrassment, Nick followed. “Are you all right?” he asked. He pulled her hair back gently and handed her his handkerchief. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so graphic.”

  Her face burned. “I’m fine. Go away.” She didn’t want or need his help, but his gentle touch warmed her deep within and diminished her dislike for him…a little.

  He stared at her for a moment that seemed like an eternity and then did as she asked.

  Still woozy, she sat down on a boulder and watched the men scan the area for evidence. Ed and Nick found something in the bushes. They studied the object, excitement glowing on their faces. It was something small enough to fit in Nick’s palm so it wasn’t the bracelet. Her heart pounded in hard thuds as she rose to see the mysterious item.

  Before Sara Jane could see it, both men turned and headed toward the sheriff and her dad. After they all examined the article, Dad rolled his hands into fists, something he did only when very upset. He glanced toward Uncle Luke and took a step toward him. The sheriff put his hand on Dad’s arm, stopping him. Dad’s face flushed, his eyes narrowed, and his lips barely moved. Sara Jane knew that in a face-to-face confrontation, the less her dad’s lips moved and the softer he spoke, the less likely that he could be swayed. He began to pace. It was odd that Dad allowed the sheriff stop him from going to Uncle Luke to resolve the problem. With Dad, blood was thicker than any lawman’s heavy-handed orders. Besides, he had connections with the FBI, and access to two agents right on Ryan land who probably had more authority than the sheriff. The fact that Dad gave in proved something big was up, something that involved the family. If only she could be a fly on his shoulder for a few minutes to eavesdrop on the men and find out what was going on.

  She glanced over at her Uncle Luke, who, other than her mom and dad, was her favorite person in the whole world and definitely the most colorful. In his heydays he was known to be the wildest cowpoke around these parts. Did her uncle have something to hide? When he married the mysterious Aunt Amber, who never talked about her past, he added even more intrigue to his image. Sara Jane imagined that between the two, they had lots of secrets. Did her uncle have one that might ruin all their lives?

  While pondering that, Sara Jane got a canteen from her saddlebag and rinsed her mouth. Fortunately, her mom had a mint in her bag. Sara Jane popped it into her mouth—now she was ready to face the world.

  After the lawmen finished their examination of the crime scene and bagged the body, everyone started getting on their horses.

  Uncle Luke pulled Ed aside. “Any idea who the woman is?” he asked, his face grim.

  Ed patted Uncle Luke on the back. “Not yet. We’ll know more after the autopsy.”

  The two men parted, neither looking satisfied with their exchange. Sara Jane’s gaze automatically sought a glimpse of Nick. When she discovered he was looking at her, she blushed.

  He wrinkled his brow and sauntered over to her. “Feeling better?” he asked, starting to help her onto her horse. His hand accidentally brushed her leg and heat shot through her.

  “Now I get it,” she said, “FBI means female body inspector. But not this body, buster. And I’m quite capable of getting onto a horse by myself.” Demon’s ears swiveled back at the sharpness in her tone, and she stroked his neck to calm him.

  Nick threw his hands in the air and backed away. “No one doubts that.” His deep voice made her knees weak. “It’s just that you’re a little green around the gills.”

  She felt the fire in her cheeks. “You must be colorblind. I’m fine.”

  He stepped toward her again. “Maybe. But humor me.”

  In spite of her protest, she let him give her a boost. No one had offered to help her mount a horse since she was about six, and certainly not since she’d become a horse trainer. She both liked and resented the assistance—mostly she resented it. So, why hadn’t she stopped him? It was a mystery to her and a big mistake, she thought as the heat of his hands burned through her jeans.

  As their group headed toward the ranch, Sara Jane noticed that Nick rode as close to her as he could get without bumping horses. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him watching her as though he expected her to slip off her saddle. “Look, to ease your mind, I’ve never fallen off a horse in my life.” She didn’t bother to mention that she’d been bucked off many times and had the scars to prove it.

  Almost imperceptibly, the corners of his mouth curved upward. “If I were talking to someone else, I’d say there’s always a first time, but with you, I think I’d be wrong. I’ve never seen anyone more in tune with her horse.” He paused and gave her a look that made her heart race. “I thought we might talk. You may know more about the murder than you told the sheriff.” He paused and met her gaze. “And be unaware of it.”

  She was well aware of what she did know—that the missing bracelet could be hers—something neither Nick nor the lawmen knew. But admitting her suspicions might turn her into a suspect and further curtail her freedom. She laughed without humor. “I’m sure everyone here knows more about this murder than I do. Maybe you can enlighten me?” Sara Jane lifted an eyebrow and gave him a sidelong look. If she asked outright about the clue they found, he would clam up, so she decided to reel him in slowly. “Does Joe have any idea about the time of death?”

  “By the stage of rigor mortis, he thinks around 2:00 a.m.”

  With the stench of decay, Sara Jane had thought the woman had been dead longer, but in this heat… Her mind whirled. “Murdered somewhere else, right?”

  “Exactly.” His eyes widened. “You grasped an important point that goes hand-in-hand with the time of death.”

  Sara Jane bristled at the surprise in his voice but refused to let his astonishment get her down. The fact that he underestimated her could work in her favor. “Does Joe or Ed have any idea why the woman was left on Ryan land?”

  Nick shook his head. An emotion flickered across his face that made her wonder how much more he knew about the killer’s so-called signature.

  Deciding to run a bluff, she said, “I saw what you found in the bushes. By everyone’s reaction, it must be a promising lead.”

  “You saw the locket?” An instant after he asked the question, Sara Jane saw awareness light up his eyes, but it was too late, he’d already spilled the beans.

  It was all she could do to hold back her triumphant smile. “I was right there. I’m not blind, you know.” She watched Nick’s face. He looked unconvinced. She wasn’t good at flirting, but she didn’t know any other way to distract him. While trying for an innocent-sexy look like the one Cousin Alicia had perfected, Sara Jane raked her hair with trembling fingers and let the thick tresses fall so that they brushed her shoulders. Thanks to her mom’s good genes, she had a decent head of hair and intended to use that asset to the fullest.

  Nick wrinkled his forehead, confusion darkening his eyes. She smiled within; her hot and cold act was working. He stared at her for several seconds, perhaps weighing the advisability of answering at all. Finally, he said, “The locket had slots for two photos, but one slot was empty.”

  Excitement rose in Sara J
ane and she forgot her seductive act. “Do you think the missing photo has something to do with the murder?”

  “Maybe…but I was more interested in the remaining picture….” The way his voice trailed away chilled her to the very marrow of her bones.

  She found it difficult to breathe. Instinctively, she leaned toward him. “Why? Was the picture of someone you know?”

  ****

  Nick frowned. He’d been had, and he didn’t like it one damn bit. It wasn’t like him to talk too much. This young woman with her flowing auburn hair and innocent-looking blue eyes knew how to punch his keys. He flexed his jaw, determined not to let her get away with it again. “I didn’t recognize the person,” he said with a clear conscience. This time he had sense enough to keep to himself that everyone else at the murder scene knew the person quite well. “Since we’re at a standstill for now, let’s discuss your schedule.”

  Her eyes flashed. “My schedule? Whatever for?” She urged her horse forward along the mesquite and scrub brush lined path.

  Nick managed to stay parallel with her. He should have known she wouldn’t make this easy. The sun baked the earth unmercifully. He just wanted to do his job, find the Honey Killer as quickly as possible, and leave this hellish land. “Look, I’ll lay my cards on the table. The FBI has reason to believe you need protection and—”

  “Hey, hold it right there! Why does the FBI think that?” She reined away a few feet, forcing her quarter horse to do a sidestepping jig.

  Nick swore under his breath. Every time he opened his mouth, he landed on unsound ground. While trying to gather his thoughts, he watched with fascination how the muscles under her jeans flexed as she squeezed with her legs to urge her horse forward again. “It’s involved. But let’s stay on point. From now on—”

  “Whoa! Saying it’s involved won’t cut it.”

  Nick exhaled and reined his roan close again. Behind them, horses snorted and hooves clomped, reminding him they weren’t alone. Yet the intensity between them felt like they were the only two people under the cloudless blue sky. How could he tell this feisty woman enough to get her cooperation without terrifying her? Even though Matt had made it crystal clear he wanted her kept in the dark, Nick knew he’d have to tell her something. He studied her clenched hands, curled around the reins as though they were her lifeline. Her fingernails were short with a clear gloss—nothing flashy like the dead woman. And she wore only one ring, a silver band with an Indian design. He wondered about the story behind that. “It has to do with a case your dad worked on.”

 

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