All the Lost Little Horses (A Desperation Creek Novel Book 2)

by Janice Kay Johnson

  “I was worried.”

  That she’d made the admission blew him away. He felt the rough edges of her anger every time they talked, but something else had been going on, too.

  Unless first thing in the morning she told Niall, too, that she had worried.

  He grimaced at the unjustified jealousy. As far as he knew, there’d never been any chemistry between the two of them, and Niall had as good as promised he’d keep his distance. Linette wasn’t the kind of woman who’d come on to a friend of Jed’s just to rub his nose in it, anyway.

  “I’m good at this,” he heard himself say. “Staying unseen.”

  “I know. Even so—” The silence formed a deep, dark pool. “I…paid attention to news, kept an ear out anytime people talked about casualties. I ran into Randy Ellroy. Remember him? He told me you were back, uninjured.”

  It was true Jed had been unscathed on the outside. Inside…his last remnants of humanity had been blasted to smithereens. He’d thought them dead and been genuinely astonished when he began to feel odd flickers of emotion.

  “You moved away,” he said.

  “Why did you come here, and then never even say hello?” She sounded genuinely curious.

  It was weird, having this conversation without any visual cues. But what the hell. He’d expected her to ask eventually.

  “I was working up the courage.” He backed up until he could lean on the opposite wall. “And then I had to kill a man.”

  “You saved a woman’s life. Was there any other way?”

  He closed his eyes. “No.”

  “Then?”

  “I had to suit up.” She’d know what he was talking about. He’d told her what a ghillie suit was. Showed her one. “Crawl forward. Get within range. See his face right before—” He’d shattered the guy’s head, watched in living color.

  “It took you back.”

  Of course Linette understood. He hadn’t been open with her about his job, about the toll it took even as it saved the lives of American soldiers, but he’d always known she saw more than she should, understood him in a way nobody else did or ever had. That, he thought now, was part of why he’d fled.

  “Yeah,” he said huskily. He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t in any shape to—”

  “Hide what you were feeling from me?” she said sharply. “God forbid you talked about it. Let someone—” She didn’t finish.

  Let someone what? Hold him?

  Maybe she didn’t know him the way he’d been afraid she did. He’d feel pathetic if he said, No one ever has before. He still remembered the shock on Grant Holcomb’s face when Jed had told him so bluntly that not everyone had any idea what having family meant.

  “Forget it,” Linette snapped. “It doesn’t matter. Go to bed.”

  He hadn’t answered soon enough. “It does matter.” Jed didn’t like the raw desperation in his voice.

  “No. I was curious, that’s all. I mean it, Jed. You need the sleep.”

  He did, of course, but, God, what he’d give to join her in that bed, wrap himself around her, comfort himself with her scent, her strength, her breath, the thick silk of her hair. Right now, he was tired enough to think he could be content with that, that he wouldn’t fall on her like a starving man.

  “Goodnight,” he said quietly. “You need to sleep, too.”

  “Thank you for…being here.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” And that was the most honest thing he’d said in a long time.

  As he pushed himself away from the wall and started for the bedroom across the hall from hers, he heard her whispered, “Goodnight.”

  She hadn’t said that to him in five long years. His fault.

  *****

  Linette heard Niall come in just after daybreak and go straight to the spare room to sack out. She rolled over and went back to sleep.

  The next thing she knew, her alarm clock went off. Blearily, she thought, Wait. I didn’t set it. No, that was her phone. She groped for it just as someone started pounding on the front door.

  Jumping out of bed, she grabbed jeans and yanked them on even as she answered the phone.

  “It’s Troy!” He sounded distraught. “Horses are out, on the road.”

  “Joaquin—” His voice broke. “He got hit. He’s…I think he’s dead, Linette.”

  Pain compressed her ribcage. No, no, no! He’d jump up. He’d—

  “I’m coming,” she said hoarsely, dropped the phone, shoved her feet into her boots and pulled a sweatshirt over her head. Bleary-eyed, Niall stumbled into the hall, meeting her almost face-to-face.

  “What?”

  “Horses are out.” She ran downstairs, where she found the front door open and Jed listening to Troy.

  She tore past them, bounded down the stairs and ran for the road.

  Jed yelled after her. “I’ll bring flares!”

  Troy… She didn’t look back to see whether he was following her or not.

  Out on the road, she saw a man already laying out flares. The other direction… Oh, God. A hundred yards away, a foal lay almost on one shoulder. An old pickup truck was parked not far past him.

  Had anybody called the vet? She should do it— But she knew, even before, gasping for breath, she dropped to her knees beside the ten week old colt, that no veterinarian could help. A leg and shoulder were badly damaged, and where his ribcage had been was a…concavity. His big dark eyes were fixed, dull, filmed over.

  Tears ran down her face as she gently touched him with a hand that trembled. How could this have happened? How? Some of the fences needed replacement, but not urgently so. She or Troy checked them regularly.

  Her head came up at the clatter of hooves on the pavement. Imelda, a beautiful silver, sidled nervously toward her. She was Joaquin’s dam, not understanding any better than Linette did why her colt didn’t scramble up and run to her side.

  “Ah, Christ.” Jed crouched beside her, compassion written on his face. “I’m sorry, Linette.”

  She swiped her wet cheeks with her forearms. “Will you find out how they got out?”

  His “yeah” was so rough, he had to clear his throat. “After we catch all of them.”

  Both of them turned their heads at the sound of a siren. “That’ll scare the horses more!” she exclaimed, even as Imelda shied away, her hooves skidding on the pavement.

  Jed ran toward the deputy’s SUV pulling up. Tears still leaked, but Linette rose to her feet, feeling as stiff and ungainly as a newborn foal, watching as Jed spoke vehemently to the uniformed deputy.

  Jarman, she realized, the jerk who’d responded to her first 911 call. He did lean in and shut off lights and siren.

  Jed jogged back to her. “I’m sending him to find the break in the fence.”

  “Just so I don’t have to talk to him.” The mare was back, trying to nose her foal again. “Let me take the halter,” Linette said. “She knows me.” After taking halter and rope from Jed, she went directly to Joaquin’s dam, who tossed her head but didn’t try to evade her.

  Linette gave her a little longer to nose her dead colt before leading her along the side of the road and up the driveway. Troy was already leading another mare into the barn, her foal following docilely. Jed was coaxing yet another mare.

  They used stalls, paddocks, tied a few horses in the broad aisle.

  At last Jed said, “I don’t see any more horses. Can you tell if any are missing?”

  “Rey!” she exclaimed.

  Jed laid a hand on her shoulder. “That the stallion? I saw him. Was he in a different pasture?”

  “Yes.” She sagged. “Oh, thank God.”

  “All right.” His eyes held the kind of tenderness she’d once dreamed of seeing but could no longer believe in. “The driver who hit the foal is waiting to talk to you. He put out flares and has been lending a hand rounding up the horses.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Says his name is Curt Deeter. He works at the Arrowhead Creek Ranch. He was on
his way to work.”

  Linette nodded dully. “I don’t suppose it was his fault.”

  “No.” Not a man who did a lot of touching out of bed, Jed seemed to be putting his hands on her a lot these days. Right now, he squeezed her upper arms and held her gaze. “He’s pretty upset.”

  “He’s not alone.” She swallowed and backed up, saying sharply, “My foal was in the road. My fault.”

  “Stop and wash your face.”

  He sounded so damn kind, she wanted to cry again, but of course she wouldn’t.

  She did go outside to the trough right behind the barn and splash her face. She dried it on the hem of her sweatshirt as she walked back down the aisle. Beyond him, apparently waiting, stood Deputy Jarman. Linette didn’t acknowledge him.

  The guy Jed had told her about – Curt? – hovered right outside the entrance. Maybe mid-twenties, lean and wearing typical cowboy garb, he looked more than upset. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, which told her he’d cried. Shoulders hunched inside a denim jacket, he paced back and forth until he saw her.

  “I’m—” He swallowed. “This your place?”

  “I’m Linette Broussard.” She held out a hand.

  “Curt Deeter. I work at—”

  “Jed told me.”

  He bobbed his head. “I’d give anything to have kept from hitting him, but I didn’t even see him until he jumped the ditch and ran right out in front of my truck. I swerved, thinking he’d keep going, but he fell to his knees. I—” His voice broke and his eyes were wet. “Shit. I’m sorry. I, uh, never thought I’d kill a beautiful animal like that.”

  “No, I’m sorry.” She laid a hand on his arm. “If it’s anybody’s fault, it’s mine. You had no reason to think a horse would run across the road.”

  At the same time as she felt an inexplicable warmth at her back, Curt glanced past her before meeting her eyes again. “Other animals do sometimes. Pronghorn, rabbits, coyotes. You know. I try to drive carefully. I’ve never hit an animal before.”

  Jed wasn’t touching her this time, just standing close behind her, but his presence helped. Stiffened her spine. “It can’t be helped.” She hesitated. “A man tried to steal a foal just a couple of days ago. I think this must be connected. We haven’t gotten out to check yet, but somebody must have pulled down a fence.”

  “Niall called a minute ago,” Jed said quietly. “That’s probably why Jarman is waiting to talk to us. Niall says a gate was wide open. Padlock must have been cut. We don’t know, because it’s missing, the chain lying on the ground.”

  Forgetting both of the other men standing there, she looked at Jed. “During the night?”

  “No.” Hard and edged with angry, this was wasn’t even his cop’s voice. There was too much emotion in it. “Probably as soon as Niall came in. I’m betting the horses were lured out with feed, or even chased out.”

  That…made sense. Too many had been out. What were the odds they’d all wander out, when the pasture most of the mares and foals had been in was thirty acres? Despite being descended from mustangs, these weren’t wild horses. At most they’d be skittish if a man, or men, approached them.

  She made herself breathe through her own anger before she turned back to Curt Deeter. “Let me know if there’s damage to your truck.”

  “I haven’t looked. But…I carry insurance.”

  “The insurance company will come after me, anyway.”

  “Not if I said I hit a pronghorn or deer,” he said stubbornly.

  Linette shook her head. “Don’t lie. I do carry insurance.” With a big deductible, but this young ranch hand shouldn’t suffer because of her problems.

  He searched her face and finally nodded, then touched the brim of his hat. “I don’t know if this has anything to do with what happened, but I heard a car or truck start and drive away.” He gestured west. “Your ranch hand was running down the driveway, and I just didn’t think about it.”

  Jed stepped forward. “Did you catch a glimpse of it? Or notice a vehicle earlier that was parked somewhere off the road?”

  Deeter shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Let me get your phone number.”

  He gave it readily before saying, “I’ll be on my way, then. If there’s anything I can do…”

  Linette managed a smile that seemed to alarm him more than offer reassurance, but he did finally depart.

  Once he was out of earshot, Linette moaned. “Now what?”

  “Now Niall and I look for tracks. Had the guy not made his getaway yet, and was surprised when Deeter hit the foal? Waited until Deeter was distracted to run for it? Or was he hanging around for a reason?”

  Stricken, she said, “For a chance to see me scared, tearing around trying to corral the horses?”

  Jed was frowning. “I have another idea. Let me check something. I’ll load the colt in the bed of my pickup at the same time. Get him off the road.”

  She didn’t like the look on his face and felt new apprehension build in her chest. What was he going to check?

  “I’ll start digging a grave with my tractor,” she offered.

  He nodded, searching her face before he spoke briefly with Jarman. Linette couldn’t hear what was said, but she saw a flash of intense anger on the deputy’s face before he turned and walked down the driveway, apparently dismissed.

  Jed called for Niall. As they drove away, she took the opportunity to dash inside and finish getting dressed. Specifically, stripped to put on a bra, panties and socks before pulling on the same jeans and sweatshirt.

  Outside, she and Troy discussed where to dig the grave. They’d barely agreed on a location when Jed’s pickup truck came back up the driveway.

  His expression was grim when he got out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Niall’s was much the same.

  “Linette, you need to see this,” Jed said. He nodded toward the bed of the pickup.

  Her feet didn’t want to take her forward, but she made herself follow him around to the back, where he let down the tailgate. The minute it dropped, she saw.

  A web of fine filaments – wire? – mixed with the coarse hairs in the dead foal’s short, bushy tail. A small capsule with a sort of needle hung from his rump. Not far from it was a tiny, raw wound. Another of the capsules with a barbed tip dangled amidst the mess.

  Linette knew that her mouth had dropped open. Beside her, Troy gaped, too.

  She’d never seen anything like this before, but it wasn’t hard to guess. “A taser?”

  “Yep.” Fury honed the edge in Jed’s voice. “This is why that bastard hung around. To drive one of the horses out in front of the first vehicle that came down the road.”

  “Is it…a police taser?”

  “No.”

  Linette felt her grief ball into something hard, ugly. “He murdered Joaquin.”

  “He did. We can charge him with animal cruelty on top of everything else.”

  “If you ever find him.”

  “Do you doubt me?” he said softly.

  She met that cold gaze and shook her head. “No.”

  His face softened, just a little. “Give me a few minutes to look for anything he might have dropped, a decent footprint, tire marks, and I’ll be back to help.”

  “Is Deputy Jarman gone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Niall—”

  “He can stay and help.” He glanced from her to the other two men. “Did you have a spare padlock, Linette?”

  Troy said, “I’ll go get one.”

  “Thanks.” Jed watched him go. “I’d suggest we replace that gate with fencing. You don’t use it, do you?”

  “No, I don’t know why it’s there at all.”

  He nodded. “After the burial, I want all of us to have a conference. You, me, Niall and Troy. But let’s take care of first things first.”

  Linette’s headache had kicked up more than a few notches. She hoped Jed couldn’t tell. “I’ll bring the tractor out here.”

  Jed’s
hand on her arm stopped her. His voice had softened. “Take some of your painkillers first.”

  She made what was probably a grumpy sound, mostly because he was right, and stomped up to the house. If only the prescription meds could treat her deeper pain.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Two hours later, Jed walked into the Crook County Jail, where he was met by Detective Ed Frazier. At a guess, the man was in his early forties. Medium height, lean and tough looking. He was bulked-up some by the vest he wore under his tan uniform shirt. Jed wore his, too, as he did every working day even in the heat in summer.

  The two men shook hands, after which Jed took in their surroundings. The building had showed its age outside, but in here, the problems were more obvious. The ceiling had water damage, the walls were constructed of painted concrete bricks, and every space Jed had seen so far, from booking to a rec room, was cramped.

  “Bet you’re looking forward to the opening of that new jail,” he remarked. He’d seen the plans online.

  Frazier grimaced. “Supposed to be next month. Can hardly wait. You know we house more inmates at the Jefferson County Jail than we do here? Got to tell you, I’m sick of the drive back and forth.”

  “I can see why.”

  “We’re sitting down with Oren in the visitors’ room. Not ideal, but the best we can do without transporting him to our office. Fair warning – he’s not a happy camper.”

  Jed grinned. “Haven’t met one yet in a jail.”

  Frazier laughed, too, and showed him into a cramped room that had only three stations for family or attorneys to speak to inmates through glass panels. With none of them in use, the table would allow room for the three of them to sit – or four, if Oren already had an attorney.

  Jed wasn’t surprised to find that he had counsel with him. He had to be sharp enough to know he was in major trouble.

  Calderon looked about the way Jed had expected. In his late sixties, he had a skinny body wizened by years and exposure to the elements. Gray hair cut in a flat-top reminded Jed of Police Chief Seward’s. Discontent had carved deep lines in the leathery skin on his face, and unhealthy looking reddish-purple color flooded his cheeks.