The Cowboy She Never Forgot

by Cheryl Biggs

  So why had this happened?

  She walked to the cab of the pickup and looked inside. Nothing seemed out of place. She reached past the seat and pushed down on the brake pedal with her hand. It went easily and immediately to the floor.

  Kate gasped in shock, then dropped to her knees and looked under the pickup. It might take some close examination to verify it, but she’d bet dollars to doughnuts his brake line had a hole in it, most likely put there intentionally, since his truck was only a year old and had been in excellent condition.

  She pushed back to her feet. Up until this point their saboteur’s pranks had been potentially dangerous, but had caused merely inconvenience rather than injury. Now that situation had changed. Shane could have been killed. She turned to see Tim Norris and Craig and Josh Lawyler standing nearby and watching her with interest. Kate smiled and shrugged. “I took auto shop in high school.”

  “Yeah, so did you find anything interesting under there?” Craig asked.

  “Yeah, like the body that belongs to that motorcycle?” his brother quipped, and laughed.

  Kate glared at the teenager. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

  Josh Lawyler’s face turned an unflattering shade of red, but he glared back at her hatefully. “Just trying to lighten things up around here,” he grumbled. “Geez.”

  “I don’t see anything to be light about,” Kate retorted.

  “You going to the hospital?” Tim asked softly, as she started to walk past them.

  “Later,” she said.

  He nodded and turned away.

  Kate walked into Jim Hodges’s trailer office and closed the door behind her. “Okay, what do we need to talk about?” she asked, figuring he just wanted the opportunity to blast her for not having already caught their saboteur.

  “You think Larrabee’s wreck was some kind of freak accident?”

  “No.”

  He settled into the chair behind his desk with a long sigh and shook his head. “Me neither.” He waved her to sit down. “I was on the phone with a friend down in Oklahoma this morning. They had a situation similar to ours down there a few months back.”

  Kate’s attention was suddenly riveted. She scooted forward on her chair. “How similar?”

  “Hay bales on fire. Stirrups and reins busting. Written threats.”

  “Were they directed mainly against Shane—Larrabee?”

  Hodges began fiddling with a pencil. “No. Another rider.”

  Kate frowned. “Is he here?”

  “No. Broke his leg pretty bad when his rein broke while saddle bronc riding and he was thrown.”

  “An accident?”

  “No. The rope had been cut partway through, but they never found out by who.”

  Kate stood. “Can I use your phone?”

  “Sure.” He turned it toward her.

  Kate dialed. “Captain, this is Kate. Shane Larrabee’s on the way to the hospital.”

  “What?” Aames yelled. “What in blazes happened, Morgan?”

  She winced and jerked the phone away from her ear, waiting until he was silent to replace it.

  “I think the brake line on his pickup was cut.”

  “Attempted murder? Terrific,” Aames grumbled. “What the hell has this guy got against Larrabee and the rodeo anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” Kate said. “But I don’t think this is his first gig. Seems they had a similar problem down in Oklahoma a few months ago.”

  “Oklahoma have any suspects?”

  “Evidently not,” Kate said. “Look, I need a couple of officers for surveillance. I can’t be everywhere at once, and obviously this guy knows his way around the grounds and Hodges’s security team.”

  She expected to hear the arena manager bellow at that comment, but he remained silent.

  “Fine,” Aames said. “I’ll have Braytt and Conrad change into street clothes and send them down right away.”

  “Thanks. Oh, and Captain, could you contact Oklahoma and have them send up everything they’ve got on their incident?” Kate hung up and turned back to Hodges. “Two officers, Mike Braytt and Rob Conrad, will be here shortly. Send one to the stable area, and tell the other to stick close to the arena and pens, and tell them to look inconspicuous.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the hospital.” Kate started to leave, then paused. “Will Larrabee have to take a forfeit on his rides tonight because of this?”

  Hodges frowned, then shook his head. “I’ll talk to the judges, see if I can get them to postpone his rides, but I don’t know.”

  She smiled. “Thanks.” Kate hurried toward her Cherokee. There was no way she could tell Shane the truth now, even if she wanted to. If their saboteur somehow found out she was a cop, if Shane told anyone, or even accidentally let it slip, it could be worse for him. This incident could have still been meant as more or less innocuous and merely have backfired into something near deadly. But if their saboteur discovered the police had been called, that Oklahoma had been contacted, and Shane had police protection, one of two things could happen: he could be scared off, in which case they might never catch him, or he could get desperate, and a lot more deadly in his attacks.

  She reached for her car phone. “Hodges,” she said, the moment the arena manager answered. “Have both my horse and Shane’s moved to another stable, keep them side by side, and don’t tell anyone where they’re at, even if that means you have to take care of them yourself. And don’t write it down in your ledger.”

  “Got it.”

  “And if someone asks which hospital Shane was taken to, tell them you don’t know.”

  As Kate jammed the Cherokee into gear and sped from the parking lot she suddenly remembered a case she’d worked on last year. A young woman called the police and complained that she was being stalked. The media got hold of the story and, because the woman was from a prominent local family, they made it a number-one news story. All the guy had wanted was for her to love him, but when the newspapers began labeling him sick, demented, and evil, he’d gone crazy. He blamed her. Then one night he’d killed her.

  The thought sent an almost paralyzing flash of terror racing through Kate. What if the person they were after now had that kind of mentality? What if he...or she, found out the police were involved? What if the media found out about the sabotage incidents and played them up, or said something the saboteur didn’t like? Would he then become worse? Would his intent turn to definite murder?

  Kate walked down the long, white hall, looking for the room number the nurse at the reception desk in the downstairs lobby had given her. The scene of Shane’s accident kept replaying in her mind. The badly smashed-up passenger side of his truck, which had taken the brunt of the impact with the light pole; Shane lying unconscious and bleeding in the cab, the spreading pool of gasoline; the cut oil line; and the woman who’d hovered over him, crying and holding his hand.

  What was she to Shane? The moment the thought took form in Kate’s mind, she slapped it down. What difference did it make? They could only be friends. If he’d found someone else, she should be happy for him.

  A loud crash sent her spinning around and instinctively reaching for the gun that was usually holstered at her hip, but was now in a holster around her calf. Her gaze fell on the number by the door of the room the sound had come from—it was 115. Shane’s room. Kate hurried inside, prepared to tackle an assailant.

  Cody was just straightening on the other side of an empty bed. He looked up, a metal bedpan in his hand. “Knocked the damned thing off the table as I was leaving,” he grumbled.

  Kate looked around. There was no one else in the room. “Where’s Shane?” She glanced toward the closed door she assumed led to the bathroom.

  “Gone,” Cody grumbled.

  “Gone?” she echoed. Her blood instantly turned as cold as ice as fear of what he meant raced through her. “What do you mean, gone?”

  “The stubborn idiot refused to stay. The doctors said he was bruis
ed up a bit, had a gash on his cheek and maybe had a light concussion, but that was about it. They wanted to keep him overnight for observation, but he said no and left me here to fill out these damned release forms.” He waved a handful of papers at her.

  Kate didn’t know whether she was more relieved that Shane was all right, or angry that he hadn’t followed the doctor’s orders and stayed in the hospital. At least there he’d be safely tucked away from their saboteur. “Where did he go?”

  Cody shrugged. “Back to the arena. He has rides scheduled for tonight. Like I don’t.”

  “Rides,” she nearly screamed. “He can’t ride after being in that accident.”

  Cody scoffed. “Yeah? Well, you try telling him, because he sure as hell doesn’t listen to me.”

  That’s exactly what she intended to do. Kate whirled around and headed for the exit.

  Chapter 6

  “I’m either the unluckiest SOB in Reno, or someone’s out to get me,” Shane grumbled. He stared at the bull he was scheduled to ride in less than ten minutes. Someone had dipped the animal’s tail in hot pink paint, then sprayed small, hot pink loops all over the Brahma’s muscular body.

  Shane’s hands curled into fists. He was already in a murderous mood after finding out his truck had been assessed as “totaled” and hauled to a junkyard. Then Tim had told him about the fire that had been set near Samson’s stall. A flaming pink bull was something he just didn’t need.

  “Whoa, crap,” Cody said, coming up behind him.

  “Well put, little brother.”

  Cody laughed. “Well, I know there’s no use telling you that you shouldn’t be riding tonight, but please, tell me you’re not really going to ride that thing?”

  Shane continued to stare down at the bull. “What do you suggest I do, forfeit the ride?”

  Cody slung a foot onto the bottom rail, hooking his heel on it, and pushed back his hat with a jab of his thumb. “No, but I sure as heck wouldn’t go out in front of a crowd on...” He was suddenly pushed into silence by the look of cold fury he saw on Shane’s face as he straightened and turned away from the bull.

  “Somebody better catch the creep who’s doing these things before I do,” he snarled.

  Cody followed as Shane turned away and stalked toward the pen they’d ushered the bull into when his ride came up. “You feeling okay, bro?”

  “No. I’m going to look like one first-class jerk riding a pink bull, but there’s nothing I can do about it now except bite the bullet and ride.” Shane flexed his shoulders, then climbed onto the rails. “I’ve got a headache the size of Texas, my cheekbone feels like LaBamba kicked it in, and I’m mad as hell.” He looked down at Cody. “Any more questions?”

  Cody grinned. “Nope. I think that about covers it.”

  Within seconds Lightning Bolt was ushered into the waiting pen below Shane.

  Cody climbed up and slung a long leg over the top rail, positioning himself next to Shane as he resettled his protective vest, rolled his shoulders again, and pulled his riding gloves from beneath his belt, where he’d tucked them earlier. He handed the gloves to Cody.

  “Oh, man, you’ve gotta be kidding,” Craig Lawyler said as he spotted the bull, then watched Shane swing off the rail and settle onto his massive back.

  Josh moved up beside his brother. “He’s really gonna ride that thing?” He snickered and rammed an elbow into Craig’s ribs.

  Cody glanced over his shoulder at the two cowboys. “You got a problem with that?” he growled, then turned back and handed Shane his gloves. “You know, bro, you could request another bull.”

  Shane pulled the well-worn leather gloves on and slid his hand under the grip rope. “I drew this one.” He wrapped the rope over his hand again, pounded down on his bent fingers with his other fist and pushed his hat down harder on his head.

  “You ready?” Cody asked.

  “Yeah.” Shane tipped a finger to the brim of his hat as he nodded to the gate man that he was ready.

  “Ride him to the ground, bro,” Cody said. He gave Shane the thumbs-up sign, then swung his legs from the inside of the rails and jumped to the ground.

  A second later the buzzer sounded and Lightning Bolt burst from the pen.

  Kate, having just finished checking on Dancer in his new stall and on her way back to the arena, heard Shane’s name announced and ran past the pens to the fence. Her hands curled tightly around the rail as she stared in astonishment and her jaw dropped in shock.

  The crowd however, went wild at seeing the pink bull, cheering and hurraying like crazy.

  Barely halfway through the ride Shane’s hat flew off and his dark hair tumbled onto his forehead. His free arm sliced through the air as his legs moved back and forth, his spurs working the bull.

  Lightning Bolt seemed almost ferocious, as if the idea that someone had tried to make him look foolish had infuriated him. He kicked high, snorted, spun, bellowed, bucked, spun, and kicked again, all almost nonstop, all with what seemed a vicious bent.

  Kate gripped the fence tightly and held her breath, waiting for the eight-second buzzer.

  For a split second Shane looked about to lose his seat as he slid to the left. Then the buzzer split the air. He jumped from the bull’s back, landing squarely on his feet, and took off for the rails.

  Kate breathed, the crowd went wild, and the clowns ran toward the bull and started ushering him in the direction of an open gate.

  Someone had been hoping the judges would be so distracted by the bizarre sight of a cowboy on a pink bull that they would give Shane a poor score. And Kate suspected whoever had done this had known Shane well enough to know he wouldn’t ask for another bull.

  After the tacks, broken rope, and fire, the painting of the bull seemed almost a mindless prank, Kate thought, until she remembered Shane’s wreck.

  But who could have known he would return to the arena and ride? She stared closely at the bull. Anyone could have sprayed that paint on him in less than five minutes, just by staying beside the holding pen.

  Cody had known Shane was returning to the arena. The woman who’d gone to the hospital with him must also have known. But there were probably also at least half a dozen other people who’d seen him return to the fairgrounds.

  That made her start thinking again about who was on her list of suspects, and who was not.

  She watched Shane lope from the arena. It wasn’t going to be easy, questioning him without arousing his suspicion, especially after last night and this morning, but she had no choice. She had to try.

  His score came up on the lighted board and the crowd nearly went crazy at seeing an eighty-eight.

  The buzzer sounded again, drawing her attention back to the arena. A gate swung open, and another bull came charging into view, with Tim Norris straddling his broad back.

  The bull bucked. Suddenly, Tim’s grip rope snapped and he went flying over the animal’s head.

  Kate gasped. She’d checked all the equipment earlier. How could this have happened? She swallowed hard. It had to be an accident.

  Tim struggled to his feet and staggered toward the fence. The bull’s rear end swung around and collided with Tim’s back, sending him sprawling face down in the dirt.

  The clowns darted toward the Brahma to distract him as Tim, momentarily stunned, pushed himself to his feet, fell to his knees, shook his head, then rose again.

  The crowd cheered as he finally scooped his hat up from the ground, and waved at them. Then, resembling a disheveled drunk, he half walked, half weaved his way out of the arena as several cowboys, including Shane and a paramedic, rushed up to make certain he was all right.

  “You okay?” she heard Shane ask Tim anxiously, as they passed near where she stood.

  Tim nodded. “Fine. Just had the breath knocked out of me.” As if to prove his point, he stretched wide and shrugged his shoulders.

  Kate sighed in relief, then turned her attention back to the bull, which was now trotting toward an open gate, the b
roken grip rope hanging from one brawny shoulder, its frayed end dragging on the ground.

  She definitely wanted to check that rope. Kate stepped away from the fence rail she’d been standing near and turned to head for the pens.

  “Shane!”

  Kate stopped at the sound of another woman’s voice calling out his name. Tension gripped her instantly, and she looked around for Shane, then spotted him standing only a few yards away, near the Justin medical trailer.

  It was the woman who’d been with him earlier, at the accident. Her petite but curvaceous body was now snugly encased in a pair of blue denims and a plaid shirt with white cord trim, her long dark hair flowing out behind her. She pushed her way through a crowd of several cowboys and ran toward him. “Is Tim okay?”

  Shane nodded. “Fine. Just lost his wind.”

  The woman frowned and looked him up and down. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be better once they catch the creep that’s been pulling these stunts.”

  She grinned and let out a squeal. “But you scored eighty-eight,” she yelled, then threw herself into Shane’s arms.

  Kate felt her heart desert her body, instantly replaced by a swelling sense of emptiness that threatened to swallow her whole.

  Shane wrapped his arms around the woman and, lifting her off her feet, hugged her tightly and swung her around. “Yeah, and on a pink bull yet.” Both laughed.

  A feeling of déjà vu swept through Kate like a cresting tidal wave, dashing all the hopes and desires she’d been trying to deny she even had into tiny bits of nothingness. Long ago he’d held her like that after a good ride, and swung her up into his arms.