by Lara Lacombe
“He was busy,” Wyatt said. “I kept your sister company instead.”
Diego made a low sound of dissatisfaction. “And now you guys are riding in the back like I’m your damn chauffeur?”
Isabel grinned. “Home, Jeeves,” she commanded.
“Whatever,” he grumbled. The truck shot forward, pushing Isabel back into the seat as she buckled her seat belt.
“Did you have any trouble disposing of the trap yesterday?” she asked.
“No,” Diego responded. He lifted his eyes to the rearview mirror then returned his gaze to the road. “But it wasn’t a normal trap.”
“What do you mean?” Wyatt leaned forward, the seat belt tightening across his chest as he moved.
“It’s hard to describe,” Diego said. “You know how a normal M44 works?”
Wyatt nodded, but Isabel frowned. “I don’t,” she said, not wanting to be left out of the conversation.
“It targets coyotes and wild dogs,” Wyatt said, turning to face her. “The trap is baited with meat tied to the tube. When the coyote bites and pulls, the pressure of it triggers a spray of cyanide into the animal’s mouth.”
“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose. “That sounds terrible.”
“It is,” Wyatt said shortly. “But very effective.”
“The thing is,” Diego interjected, “these traps usually require a pretty forceful tug to fire. It’s kind of a safety mechanism—you wouldn’t want a stiff breeze or a sniff by a curious animal to set it off. But the one we pulled out of the ground yesterday was missing some parts. I think it was modified so that it would release the cyanide when a cow nibbled at it.”
A chill skittered down Isabel’s spine. “So not only did someone deliberately put this on our land, they made sure it would target our cows.”
“Yeah,” Diego confirmed.
“Did you tell the deputies?” Wyatt asked.
“We did,” Diego said. “They came out to the ranch and collected it, said they would send it to El Paso for testing.”
“Like for fingerprints?” Isabel asked.
“I guess. And to figure out how it had been altered. Maybe someone’s done this before and is in their system?”
It was a long shot, but possible. “Let’s hope so,” she murmured.
“Did you find any other traps?” Wyatt asked.
“No,” Diego said.
“That doesn’t mean they’re not there,” Isabel pointed out. She glanced out the window at the landscape as it raced by. In the distance, she could see the tall, white-metal towers of the fracking wells that dotted the area. Was there a connection between the energy company and the cyanide trap? Or were her brother and the detective right, and she was letting her imagination get the better of her? Her brother, after all, had more motivation to think the worst of the company. He didn’t want to sell to them.
She was quiet for the rest of the trip, happy to listen to Wyatt and Diego talk. Their easy banter hadn’t changed and she enjoyed hearing them tease each other even as they discussed serious topics.
When they turned onto the private road that connected the ranch to the rest of the world, Isabel leaned forward. It looked like the main herd was grazing on the west pasture today. The animals were too far away for her to make out any individuals.
“Any calving last night?” she asked.
“No,” Diego said. “But we kept a few heifers close to the barn today, just in case.”
“Good call,” she said. Most cows gave birth to their first calf without incident. But sometimes a mama needed help getting her baby out. There was no way to know ahead of time which animals would require assistance, so it was common practice to keep the inexperienced cows close to the barn as their pregnancy wound down.
She saw the animals as they drove past the barn, a small group of brown cows with rounded sides and swollen udders. Diego slowed to give her a better look as they drove past. Most of the animals looked good, but there was one standing by herself in the far end of the small pasture.
“She’s gonna go soon,” Isabel said, pointing to the loner.
Diego glanced out his window, nodded. “You’re probably right,” he replied.
“How do you know?” Wyatt asked. He’d unbuckled his seat belt and was now behind her, leaning forward for a better look. Isabel relaxed against him, enjoying the feel of him at her back.
“She’s off by herself,” Isabel said. “And I bet when I get a closer look at her, she’ll be dilating.”
“Are you going to let things happen naturally or will you help her?”
“I’m not going to interfere unless she needs assistance. I prefer to stay out of the way if possible.”
“How do you even help deliver a calf?” Wyatt mused.
Diego laughed. “It’s a lot of pulling.”
“Definitely a workout,” Isabel confirmed.
“Don’t you remember watching a calving when we were in high school?” Diego asked. “You were here when one of the cows delivered. It was twins.”
“Yeah, I know,” Wyatt answered, sounding a little defensive. “But if I recall correctly, I stood at the edge of the fence and watched. We didn’t have to do anything.”
“You didn’t,” Diego shot back. “But Abuelo made sure I stayed busy. As usual.”
“Kept you out of trouble, didn’t it?”
Isabel smiled to herself, knowing Wyatt was right. Abuelo was no fool—he’d always been a few steps ahead of Diego. Keeping her brother busy was the key to managing him.
Diego made a dismissive sound. “Whatever.” He parked next to the house and cut the engine.
Isabel opened the door and slid to the ground, the gravel crunching under her boots. She walked around the bed of the truck to where Wyatt was standing. Together, they moved toward the porch steps.
Just as Isabel put her foot on the first step, the front door swung open and Maria flew out. “¡Mija!” She hurried over and wrapped her arms around Isabel, squeezing so tightly Isabel couldn’t breathe. “How are you feeling? You still look pale. Should you still be in the hospital?”
Isabel smiled at the onslaught of questions. “I feel fine. I don’t need to be in the hospital any longer—there’s nothing more the doctors need to do for me.”
Maria arched one eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Did they feed you there?”
Isabel knew the correct answer for this one. “Yes. But it wasn’t nearly as good as your cooking.”
“Of course not.” Maria sniffed, her chin lifting in pride. “Homemade food is always better. Come inside now, I have lunch ready for you.” She took Isabel’s arm and began to lead her toward the door. “You, too, Wyatt,” Maria called over her shoulder.
“Gracias, Tía,” he said.
“What about me?” Diego asked.
“Since when do you need an invitation?”
Her brother grinned and started to follow. Just as they all reached the door, a low rumble sounded from the direction of the main road, growing steadily louder. Someone was on the way to the ranch house and getting closer.
Isabel paused on the threshold. “Are we expecting anyone?”
Diego shook his head. “Not that I know of.”
The four of them watched an older model truck bounce down the road, past the barn and alongside the calving pasture. The driver pulled up next to Diego’s truck and cut the engine.
Isabel frowned. She didn’t recognize the vehicle or the man driving it. She glanced at Diego and gathered from his puzzled expression that he didn’t know him, either.
“Who is that?” Maria asked softly.
The man climbed out of his truck and shut the door. He stood there for a second, surveying the land with a proprietary air before turning his gaze to the house.
There was something about his manner that rubbed Isabel the wrong way. He saun
tered over to the porch, planted one foot on the second step and leaned forward as though he owned the place.
“Can I help you?” Diego’s words were friendly but his tone was guarded.
Isabel felt a brush against her arm as Wyatt positioned himself slightly in front of her, with Maria behind both of them.
The man took off his sunglasses, revealing deep-set dark brown eyes. He looked to be about thirty and his brown hair was a bit on the longish side. His khaki pants were pressed, his polo shirt tucked in under a brown leather belt. His dun-colored hat was spotless, the absence of sweat stains indicating it was worn for fashion and not practicality. He looked like a stereotypical office worker, but there was something about his eyes that gave Isabel pause...
The man glanced around, clearly in no hurry to answer Diego’s question. He looked from Isabel to Wyatt and craned his neck to get a better glance at Maria. Then he returned his attention to her brother.
“You’re Diego Cruz?”
“That depends on who’s asking.”
“My name is Gabriel Richardson.” He stared hard at Diego, searching for a reaction. When none came, he nodded to himself as if he’d just received confirmation of a long-held suspicion.
“What’s your business here, Gabriel?” Isabel said. He wasn’t from one of their suppliers—he would have identified himself as such. He wasn’t from the bank, either. Was he bringing them a message from Praline Energy? He didn’t fit the slick-suited image of the other men from the company, but that didn’t mean much.
The stranger looked her over, eyeing her up and down in a blatant assessment that made her blood boil. She stepped forward. Wyatt placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, though whether in reassurance or warning, she wasn’t sure.
“I’m here to meet the family,” he drawled.
“Isabel? I thought that was you.” Abuelo’s voice drifted out of the house. She sensed his presence behind her but didn’t turn around. “What are you all doing standing on the porch?”
Gabriel craned his head, searching past the scrum for Abuelo’s face. When he saw the older man, he broke into a wide grin that sent a chill down Isabel’s spine.
“Hello, Grandpa.”
* * *
Everything happened fast.
Gabriel’s words hit like a bomb. Wyatt heard Jose suck in a breath. He reflexively turned, reaching out to put a steadying hand on the older man’s shoulder.
Maria whispered a curse, her brows drawn together and her expression fierce.
But it was Diego’s reaction that worried him the most.
“The hell you say!” His friend took a step forward, the movement menacing. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you’re not welcome here. Leave, now.”
Seemingly unaware of the danger he was in, Gabriel smirked. “I have every right to be here.”
“Get off of our property,” Diego seethed. “Before I make you.”
“No.”
Isabel darted forward, grabbing her brother’s arm before he could take a swing. Wyatt hastily entrusted Jose to Maria’s care. “Take him inside,” he instructed. Then he moved to stand at Diego’s other side. In their long friendship, he’d only seen Diego punch someone once before. But unless he missed his guess, Wyatt figured he was about to witness a second incident.
“It’s fine,” Isabel said forcefully. “Everybody, go inside.”
Gabriel lifted himself onto the second step of the porch.
“Not you.” The look Isabel gave the man was capable of stripping paint. “You can stay here and wait for the police.”
Gabriel shrugged, clearly unfazed by the threat. “That’ll take hours.”
“I have a better solution.” Diego no longer looked like he was going to hit the man, but Wyatt could feel the leashed tension in his friend’s body and knew that if he loosened his grip, Diego might go on the attack. “You’re trespassing on private property. I’d be well within my rights to shoot you.”
Isabel looked shocked at her brother’s suggestion.
Wyatt clenched his jaw. Way to escalate things, buddy. Diego could always be counted on to act rashly.
“Well, see, that’s the thing,” Gabriel replied. “I’m not trespassing. This is Cruz land.” He paused, stared hard at Diego in a clear challenge. “And I’m a Cruz.”
Wyatt threw his arm across Diego’s shoulders, hauling him back as his friend lunged. His boot heels began to slide on the boards of the porch, which were worn smooth from years of traffic. Wyatt had a few inches on his friend, but Diego was two hundred and thirty pounds of pure, pissed-off muscle. Unless someone or something broke through the red haze of Diego’s anger, Wyatt wasn’t going to be able to hold him back much longer.
He glanced at Isabel. She nodded, correctly interpreting his expression. She moved out of his sight for a second and returned with Maria’s dish towel in her hands. Wyatt didn’t like her being so close to her brother when he was in a rage like this, but right now he needed all the help he could get. From the corner of his vision, he saw her wrap the towel around her hands, stretching the fabric taut between them. Worst case scenario, she could throw it around her brother’s head and pull back. Some mild choking should recalibrate Diego’s priorities...
In the end, salvation came from an unlikely source.
“He’s right.” Jose’s voice cut through the noise and the drama. The patriarch stepped forward, placed his hand on Diego’s arm. His grandson stilled at the touch and turned to look at him, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Come inside,” Jose said. He turned and started walking toward the door. “All of you,” he threw over his shoulder.
Maria immediately followed.
Isabel gave Wyatt a questioning look. At his nod, she trailed after her grandfather.
Wyatt kept a restraining hand on Diego’s chest. “Come on, man,” he said, his voice low. “Let’s go.”
“I don’t want him in my house.”
“You would ignore grandfather’s request?” Gabriel climbed the porch steps, pausing at the top.
“He is not your grandfather.” Diego’s face was a mottled red and his muscles trembled with barely leashed violence.
Gabriel lifted one eyebrow and a shock of recognition traveled through Wyatt. He’d seen that expression before on Isabel’s face. Diego wasn’t going to like it, but whoever this man was, he had some kind of connection to the Cruz family.
Gabriel opened his mouth to respond.
“Don’t be stupid,” Wyatt advised. “Just get in the damn house.”
To his surprise, the other man did just that. He breezed past Diego without a second glance, leaving Wyatt and his friend alone on the porch.
“What are you doing?” Diego shrugged off Wyatt’s grip. “Where do you get off telling him to go inside?”
“I didn’t,” Wyatt replied evenly. “Jose did.”
“He doesn’t have the right—”
“Maybe not,” Wyatt interrupted. “But standing out here arguing was getting nowhere. Abuelo seems to recognize him. Why don’t you go inside and find out how that’s possible?”
Diego’s eyes held a mutinous gleam, his temper still in control of his brain.
“Fine,” Wyatt said, realizing his friend wasn’t going to respond to reason. “Stay out here and be mad. I’m not going to leave Isabel and Maria alone in there with him.” At that, he turned on his heel and stalked into the house.
Diego muttered a few choice words and stomped in after him.
Wyatt slowed his pace, giving his friend a chance to catch up. Together, they headed for the study.
“Are you going to be cool about this?” Wyatt kept his voice low as they approached the room. If Diego lost his temper again, Wyatt wasn’t sure he could hold him back. People would get hurt, and if Isabel was one of them, he knew he’d turn on his best f
riend. It was a possibility he didn’t want to consider.
“Yeah.” The wild look was fading from Diego’s eyes, replaced by a cold calculation. “Let’s go find out what this bastard wants.”
Chapter 8
Abuelo sank into his desk chair, his face ashen. His hand trembled slightly as he gestured for Gabriel to take a seat.
Gabriel gave a polite nod and settled into the old recliner. Now that he was inside, away from Diego, he seemed calmer, less volatile.
Isabel lowered herself onto the ancient love seat, balancing on the edge of the cushion. She wanted to be able to move, if the occasion called for it. Wyatt had done an admirable job restraining Diego on the porch, but the study was a much smaller space. A tussle in here would be disastrous.
She heard the clomp of approaching boots and tensed. Diego appeared in the doorway, glowering at them all. She looked past her brother, relieved to see Wyatt’s tall form appear. He caught her eye and nodded, offering her a tight smile.
“Don’t stand there all day,” Jose said, his voice tired. “Join us so we can talk.”
Diego stepped into the room but made no move to come any closer. He leaned against the wall next to the door, arms crossed over his chest and his expression forbidding.
Wyatt entered next. After an assessing glance at her brother, he moved to the love seat and took the empty spot at her side. Isabel relaxed slightly. She drew comfort from Wyatt’s presence, but having him here also meant reinforcements in case Diego lost his head.
Maria slipped out of the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Isabel felt a pang of jealousy and wished she could escape, as well, leaving the men alone to their testosterone together.
Jose let out a deep breath. “Gabriel,” he said quietly. “What brings you here today?”
“You.”
Isabel glanced at Abuelo’s face, but he showed no response to Gabriel’s declaration.
After a few seconds, Gabriel continued. “You’re my grandfather.”
“He’s not your family,” Diego practically growled.