Rodeo Queen

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Rodeo Queen Page 3

by Shannon Taylor Vannatter


  “Yes.” She closed her eyes.

  The door opened and a nurse stepped inside.

  “She’s hurting.” Mitch moved back to allow the nurse access.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” The nurse checked Caitlyn’s chart.

  As the nurse left, Caitlyn’s parents entered, wide-eyed worry shining on their faces.

  “Mr. Wentworth, nice seeing you again.” Mitch stood and offered his hand to her dad.

  Daniel Wentworth frowned. “Mitch? What are you doing here? What happened?”

  “Oh, sweetie, what happened?” Claire Wentworth scurried to her daughter’s side and took Caitlyn’s hand in her own.

  “Caitlyn was attacked, but the doctor said she’ll be fine.” Mitch tried to sound reassuring, though he was as worried about her as her folks were.

  “Attacked?” Claire squeaked.

  “I fought him off—thanks to that self-defense course Daddy made me take. But I think he stabbed my leg. And maybe my shoulder?”

  “A puncture wound to her left calf, but the knife only grazed her shoulder.”

  “So you’re here working her mugging case?” Daniel’s gaze pinned him.

  “I’m on the case, sir. But I’m afraid this was no mugging. Your daughter received a threatening letter at Cowtown Coliseum.”

  The door flung open again and Natalie rushed into the room. “Caitlyn, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Natalie turned on Mitch. “How did this happen?”

  “It’s not Mitch’s fault.”

  Oh, but it was. He should have known she’d try to slip out of his life. Just as she had ten years ago.

  “It’s that nut’s fault.” Natalie smoothed Caitlyn’s hair. “I told you this was serious.”

  “You did.” Caitlyn’s chin trembled. “I should have listened.”

  “You knew about Caitlyn’s letters.” Daniel glared at his eldest daughter.

  “I only found the latest one tonight.” Natalie held both palms toward Daniel.

  Daniel’s eyebrows rose. “Why didn’t you tell anyone, Caitlyn?”

  Because she figured I’d show up.

  “Mr. Wentworth, I know you’re worried about Caitlyn, but I need to question her about what happened. And I need to get a description of her assailant while everything is still fresh in her memory.”

  “You want us to leave?” Daniel’s how-dare-you tone sliced the air.

  “I’m sorry, sir. Caitlyn was the victim of a violent crime. I need to get a statement and then I need you to help me convince her to go into protective custody until we get this guy.”

  “Absolutely not,” Caitlyn snapped.

  “In your protective custody?” Daniel growled.

  The accusation was there in her father’s eyes. Entrust her safety to the guy who’d broken her heart? The guy she’d gotten the drop on tonight?

  He’d momentarily forgotten how slippery she could be. But it wouldn’t happen again.

  “I’ll protect her with my life, sir. Now, I’m sorry, but I need to speak with Caitlyn.”

  “I won’t leave until I know my daughter is safe.” Daniel folded his arms across his chest the way Caitlyn did when she dug in her heels.

  “There are two other rangers outside the room. Her name is on the hospital’s top-secret list and visitors can’t get to her without the code I gave only to Natalie. The sooner I get Caitlyn’s description and take her statement, the sooner we can put her in protective custody. And the sooner we can ID the suspect, the sooner we can pick this guy up.”

  Caitlyn glared at him. “I’m not going into protective custody. I have two stores to run and I can’t let the rodeo down.”

  “Marie is quite capable of taking care of both stores.” Natalie settled on the foot of Caitlyn’s bed. “I’ll even help out if you need me to and Cowtown will understand. Besides, that’s what the backup queens are for.”

  “How about this?” Mitch held her gaze. “Technically, I’m off for two weeks for my sister’s wedding near San Antonio. Caitlyn could go with me. She’d be out of the line of fire and safe. But not necessarily in protective custody.”

  “No,” Caitlyn wailed.

  Daniel’s eyebrows rose. “You were willing to give up your time off to take Caitlyn’s case?”

  “When I heard Caitlyn was in danger, I went back on duty.”

  “I think it’s a good idea.” Daniel’s gaze sought his stubborn daughter’s.

  “Daddy!”

  “I want you safe, pumpkin.” Her dad pinned her with a don’t-argue glare.

  Caitlyn’s mouth clamped shut.

  “Now, I need the room cleared.” Mitch opened the door.

  “I’m trusting you—” Daniel turned toward Mitch “—to keep her safe, in spite of herself.”

  “You can count on it, sir.” Caitlyn had already slipped through his fingers. Twice. It wouldn’t happen again.

  * * *

  “I don’t want y’all to go.” Caitlyn’s voice cracked.

  “We’ll be right outside, pumpkin.” Daddy kissed her forehead and exited.

  Mama hugged her, then followed, and Natalie squeezed her shoulder.

  “Don’t tell them what the letters said,” Caitlyn whispered. “They don’t need all the details to worry about.”

  Natalie nodded and left her alone with Mitch.

  The taupe walls of the tiny hospital room seemed to close in on her, stealing her breath.

  Could this nightmare get any worse?

  Had he said he loved her when she woke up? Or had she dreamed it? Or imagined it?

  “Now, tell me everything you remember about the attack and the assailant.” He pulled a chair near her bed and opened his sketch pad.

  “You’re drawing him?”

  “You always said I should do something with my art.” He grinned.

  “Then what? Put his sketch on TV like the Unabomber?”

  “Maybe. But first I’ll compare the sketch to our database of violent offenders and come up with a lineup to see if you can identify him before we head to Medina.”

  “That’s where your grandfather lives, right?” Approximately five hours in his SUV. Alone with Mitch. A tremor shook all the way down to her soul.

  “That’s right. Caitlyn, I need you to focus. We need to get this guy off the streets.”

  If they could catch him, she’d be safe. Her life could go back to normal. A normal Mitchless, stalkerless life.

  She closed her eyes, cleared her mind and concentrated on what had happened at her store. “I opened the back door and he was there. He said, ‘Hello, Camille. I’ve been waiting to get you alone.’” She shivered.

  “Describe his voice.”

  “Hoarse. A smoker’s voice. Gravelly.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I backed into the store and tried to lock him out, but he got inside. He was thin, a couple inches shorter than you. Maybe six-one.”

  Why did everything always come back to him?

  “Which hand did he hold the knife in?”

  “Right.”

  An accurate description would get Mitch out of her life. Just the way she liked him. Ten years since he’d chosen a dangerous job over her. Why couldn’t her heart let go?

  * * *

  A face took shape on Mitch’s sketch pad as Caitlyn described her attacker. His chest burned. What he’d like to do to this guy—

  Concentrate. Effectively capture the suspect’s features. “Age?”

  “Maybe fifty.”

  It all depended on Caitlyn’s memory. And she’d been distracted by her family. His fault, but he knew how close-knit they were and how worried her parents were.

  A few m
ore details and he turned the pad toward Caitlyn.

  Her eyes widened. “It’s close. Really close.”

  “What should I change?”

  “His cheekbones. They were higher. His skin seemed like it was pulled tight. Lips a little thinner. His eyes were sleepy looking. And his forehead was higher, with a receding hairline.”

  A very detailed description. Just let it be accurate.

  As Mitch erased a few lines and started sketching again, a heavy-lidded man emerged with a high hairline. He worked on the lips and cheekbones next, then turned the sketch for Caitlyn to see again.

  She gasped. “That’s him.”

  Chapter 3

  “You’re sure?” Mitch held the sketch steady. They had to catch this guy fast. He had to keep her safe. “I don’t need to change anything else?”

  Caitlyn examined the face on the pad. “That’s him. Almost an exact likeness.” She shivered again. “Can my family come back now?”

  “I need you to agree to the trip to Medina or protective custody. One or the other.”

  “Maybe it won’t come to that. Maybe you’ll ID him tonight and he’ll be in jail tomorrow.”

  “I hope so. But if not?”

  A heavy sigh escaped her. “Does protective custody have to involve you?”

  “I can keep you safe, Caitlyn.”

  “I’m sure there are other officers.”

  “Yes, but they don’t know you.” Or love you. “I’ve got more at stake.”

  She frowned.

  Might as well tell her, while she’s awake, that you never stopped loving her, Warren. “If I let anything happen to you, your dad would kill me.” Nice save.

  A grin tugged at the corner of her mouth, but her shoulders slumped. “Door number one. I’d love to see your family and be there for Tara’s wedding. She actually sent me an invitation.”

  “Were you planning to go?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I knew you’d be there.” She shrugged.

  Trying to avoid him because she didn’t love him anymore. But now she was stuck with him. Might as well take advantage of his good fortune. Could he win her back?

  “I’ve thought about you a lot over the years.”

  Her hand sliced through the air as if she were a director shouting cut. “Don’t even go there.”

  “I...”

  “I’ll go to Medina on one condition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We don’t discuss us.”

  “All right.” His gaze dropped to the floor.

  “When will we leave?”

  “Tomorrow evening. The doctor wants to keep you for observation until then.”

  “I’d like to see my family now.”

  “Of course.”

  “Without you lurking.” Caitlyn bit her lip.

  His heart twisted. “I’ll be right outside.”

  * * *

  While Caitlyn’s family visited with her, Mitch sat in the chair outside her door. He scanned the database against his sketch and her description, then pasted every possible match into a file.

  A familiar face popped up on the laptop screen. His breath stalled. A dead ringer for his sketch. If Caitlyn’s memory was accurate, this guy could be his break in the case. Stuart Stevens. A tap on the mouse opened Stevens’s criminal record and Mitch read the first page. A long list of domestic disturbances. A wife—Cammie.

  Mitch’s heart jolted. Cammie. Camille.

  Cammie had borne various bruises over the years, but every time neighbors called the police, she refused to admit her husband had caused her injuries. Mitch flipped through more pages.

  The domestic disturbances ended twelve years ago. A long gap until nine months ago—an arrest for beating his eighteen-year-old son, Trent. Charges pressed. Stevens had spent five months in jail and gotten paroled two months ago. Then disappeared from the radar screen only weeks later.

  There was a footnote with Trent’s current address at Texas A&M. Emergency contact—Quinn Remington.

  Mitch knew that name. The man his parents had sold the family horse ranch to when they’d moved to Denton. Small world.

  Searching through suspects, Mitch pasted several more mug shots into the lineup to complete it and then snapped the laptop shut.

  Maybe he wouldn’t be taking Caitlyn to Medina after all. His heart hitched. Not that he wanted her in danger. He just wanted the excuse to be near her. If the case was over, she’d skitter out of his life as fast as she’d skittered in.

  “Salvo.” He approached Ranger Salvo at his post in the hall. “I’m going back in.”

  “I’m on it.” Salvo took Mitch’s spot at the door.

  Mitch knocked. “It’s me.”

  “Come in.”

  Was that hesitation in her voice? He stepped inside her room.

  Her mom and sister perched on each side of her narrow bed, with her dad in a chair at her feet.

  “I have a lineup I want you to take a look at.”

  “Sure.” Caitlyn reached for the laptop.

  The women moved out of the way and Mitch scooted a chair beside her bed to watch the screen and her reactions. Stevens was on the third page.

  She scanned the first page and shook her head. “He’s not here.”

  A tap of his mouse pulled up the next screen.

  “No.” She sighed.

  The next page popped up.

  Seconds passed. No reaction. Her breath caught.

  “What...” Her dad stood.

  Mitch raised his hand to silence her dad.

  “That’s him.” Caitlyn pointed toward the bottom of the screen. Her hand shook.

  “Which one?”

  “This one.” Her finger hovered close to Stuart Stevens’s face.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “You did great.” Mitch scooped the laptop away from her and laid his hand on her arm. She trembled. “It’s okay, now. You’re safe.” He pushed his chair back in the corner.

  Her mom and sister reclaimed their spots on her bed, patting and soothing.

  If only he could be the one to comfort her.

  Maybe his dead-on sketch of Stevens would land him the forensics position. And he could be Caitlyn’s lifelong comforter.

  Mitch stepped back out into the hall and pulled up the number for headquarters.

  “Timmons.”

  “Warren here. I’ve got an ID on Caitlyn Wentworth’s attacker. Check Stuart Stevens’s prints against the letters and envelopes and I want an APB on him.”

  “You got it.”

  “Keep me updated.” Mitch ended the call and dialed the number for Remington Horse Ranch.

  “Remington Ranch.”

  “Quinn, it’s Mitch Warren.”

  “What can I do you for?”

  “I’m working a case involving Stuart Stevens.”

  Quinn sighed. “What’d he do now?”

  “Assault with a deadly weapon. Thought Trent might be able to help us.”

  “He’s home for the weekend. Just a minute.”

  Silence for a few seconds.

  “Hello?” The young man’s voice was filled with dread.

  “This is Ranger Mitch Warren. I’m afraid your dad’s gotten into some trouble, son.”

  “Assault with a deadly weapon.” The boy sounded as if nothing his father did surprised him. “Quinn told me. Who did he hurt? Are they okay?”

  “I can’t get into the details, but the victim is out of danger.” Mitch’s jaw tensed. Poor kid. “Do you have any idea where your father is?”

  “I haven’t seen him since he went to jail.” Tr
ent blew out a shaky breath. “His parole officer’s looking for him, too.”

  “I’m sorry, son. I know this must be hard on you.”

  “I’ll do anything to keep him from hurting anyone else.”

  Mitch pinched the bridge of his nose. “You wouldn’t happen to have a picture of your mom, would you?”

  “An old one. Why? Did he hurt my mom again?”

  “No. But it might help with the case. I’ll send a ranger to get it.”

  “Sure, if it’ll help. But I want it back.”

  “Of course. I appreciate your cooperation, son. I need you to tell me everything you can about your dad. Former addresses. Family. Friends. Where he hangs out. Places he’s worked. Everything.”

  Anything. Anything that might keep Caitlyn safe.

  * * *

  Even though Caitlyn had slept through the night and most of the day, grogginess still tugged at her. She rubbed her bleary eyes. The pain pills worked wonders on her leg, but left her in a daze. And she needed all her faculties to deal with Mitch for the next five hours.

  “Two weeks,” Mama moaned. “That’s a lifetime.”

  It did seem like a lifetime.

  “Don’t make it any worse on her.” Daddy squeezed her hand. “Two weeks is nothing. And it probably won’t take that long. She’ll be home before we know it.”

  “But it seems like we just got Nattie back and now Caitie’s leaving.”

  Caitlyn tried for a brave smile. “It’s only two weeks, Mama.” Mama had prayed for years for Natalie to return to the fold. Now that she had, Mama reveled in both of them being near.

  “And we want Caitlyn safe.” Natalie settled on the foot of her bed.

  “Definitely.” Daddy’s eyes were too shiny.

  “I’ll be fine. I probably won’t even have to go. Maybe they’ve caught him by now and it’s all over.”

  A knock sounded and the door opened a crack.

  Caitlyn tensed.

  “Can I come in?” Mitch’s voice came through the opening.

  “Yes.” She relaxed. Okay, she had to admit, he did make her feel safe.

  The door swung open. Mitch stuffed both hands in his pockets. “Sorry, but we need to get Caitlyn out of here. Her decoy is here.”

  “Decoy?” Her life had become a cop show.

 

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