Her P.I. Protector

by Jennifer Morey

Rattlesnake.

  Julien lost his seat and the horse galloped off in the direction of the stable.

  Seeing Julien on his back, Skylar dismounted and went to him, searching for the snake and not seeing the culprit. It must have slithered off.

  “Are you all right?” She knelt beside him and leaned over his face.

  “Yeah. My butt might be bruised.” He sat up.

  She looked around for the snake again and then turned back to him. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “Why do I doubt that?” he said. “I don’t know how you do this.”

  Skylar was still shaken up over the snake. She had not seen one on the ranch in years. Had someone put it there on purpose? She didn’t see how—or why. How would the shooter have known they would be out here?

  “What’s wrong?” Julien asked.

  Skylar shook her head briefly. She must just be easily spooked these days. “I guess I keep expecting someone to jump out and try to kill me.”

  “That’s why I’m here.”

  She smiled a little, grateful for his effort to ease her mind.

  He met her eyes and responded with a soft smile, as well. A spark passed between them, creating a new tension.

  “How often do you ride?” he asked.

  Again, he had a way of alleviating fear.

  “Every day.” She sat on her rear as he leaned back and propped himself up on his elbows.

  “On purpose?”

  She laughed again. “I love riding. Why not work and ride if I can?”

  “You’ll have to give me a horse that doesn’t spook so easily,” he said.

  “Willow is the calmest horse we have. She just doesn’t like snakes.”

  “Must be my lucky day then.”

  She enjoyed his good-sporting humor. She enjoyed his smiling eyes even more. But as he noticed her attention, she saw the subtle change to his face. His eyes lowered to her mouth and slowly went back up to her eyes, where he captured her gaze. The moment warmed, as it often did with him, this ineffable spark. She allowed herself the luxury of doing the same to him, sinking into the pleasure of absorbing his handsome face, those blue eyes that she could stare at for hours, those full lips she imagined kissing.

  Sitting straighter, Julien slipped his left hand behind her head and made her imagination come to life as his lips pressed to hers. Fiery sensation quickly intensified. She had to catch her breath, opening her mouth to get more air and, in the process, inviting him in for a deeper melding. She put one hand on his chest and slid her other over his shoulder to the back of his neck, her fingers in his hair.

  Powerful sexual need boiled to an unbearable level. Skylar’s surroundings dropped away and all she could focus on was Julien and his stimulating kiss. Was he just a good kisser or was this her natural response to him? She feared it was the latter.

  Bogie nudged her on her back with his soft nose, breaking them apart. She looked into Julien’s smoldering eyes, knowing he felt as bewildered as she did. Bogie gave her another nudge, pushing her toward Julien.

  Laughing, she looked up as the horse put his head over her shoulder and smelled Julien, blowing air and nickering.

  “I think he approves,” Skylar said, rubbing Bogie’s cheek.

  Julien didn’t share her humor. He still stared at her, barely acknowledging the gelding.

  Skylar got to her feet and, after a brief delay, Julien did the same. He said nothing as she mounted the horse, removing her foot from the stirrup so he could get up behind her. Once seated, he slid his hand around her stomach, slow and seductive, and then the other.

  The same heat that had roared forth with the kiss inundated her now. Bogie’s smooth walk and the clear day added to the allure of the man behind her. She lifted her head and turned to him.

  Leaving one hand on her stomach, Julien placed the palm of his other on her cheek and lowered his head until their lips met. At first, light and slow, the kiss didn’t take long to grow into insatiable hunger. Skylar held the reins in one hand and put her other on his thigh, needing to have some contact with him—more contact. He slid his hand from her cheek to her breast. Feeling her, caressing her.

  She was on fire for him.

  He lifted his head and she opened her eyes to the answering inferno in his. She breathed heavy and felt flushed.

  Hearing voices, Skylar faced forward and saw that they’d reached the outbuildings of the ranch. Shawn, her deputy ranch manager, was flogging a horse inside the round pen and her best groom, Marko, was yelling at him to stop. He stood outside the training pen, holding Willow’s reins.

  Skylar urged Bogie into a gallop, hoping Julien wouldn’t fall off again. He didn’t.

  As she slowed Bogie to a stop in front of the training pen, Shawn lowered the crop he had used as a whip. The young black horse’s eyes were wide with fear.

  “Get away from him,” Skylar ordered as Julien dismounted.

  Shawn did so with lowered eyebrows.

  Skylar jumped down from Bogie’s back and marched over to the fence. “Get out of there.” She was so angry she nearly laid into Shawn with a diatribe of reproach.

  Shawn walked slowly toward the gate, which Marko opened for him with a glare.

  “Nobody beats my animals,” she said.

  “That horse is headstrong. It needs to be shown who’s in charge,” Shawn retorted belligerently.

  This wasn’t the first time he’d argued with her. He had a problem with her being his boss. He always had. She couldn’t figure out if he simply had issues with authority or if he didn’t like taking orders from a woman.

  “We don’t train our horses that way,” Skylar said.

  “He beats all the animals,” Marko said.

  Shawn rounded on him. “You’re a liar. Stay out of this or I’ll fire you.”

  The groom shut his mouth and continued to glare at Shawn.

  “You won’t be firing anyone,” Skylar said. Then, to Marko, she asked, “Is that true? All the animals?”

  “Maybe not all, but I’ve seen him use that crop on other horses at least three other times.”

  “This ranch needs to be run by someone with a backbone,” Shawn said, clearly getting angrier by the second.

  “It also needs to be run by someone with humanity,” Skylar said.

  “Is that something you think you have?” Shawn asked.

  Skylar couldn’t believe the way he spoke to her. Apparently, he had taken all he could of working for a woman.

  “You had all of this handed to you,” he raged at her, “including your position as ranch manager. You never worked for any of it. Me? I worked my ass off to get where I was before you decided to take my job. I started mucking stalls when I was fifteen. It took me ten years to get to ranch manager.”

  Insulted beyond measure, Skylar said, “How dare you say I didn’t work for what I have. I’ve worked on this ranch since I was a little girl. I mucked stalls long before my fifteenth birthday, so I don’t understand your point.”

  Shawn began to simmer down. She could see in his eyes that he realized he had gone too far. Regardless, she had no choice.

  “I can’t have someone with your temperament working here. You’re fired, Shawn. Get your things and leave.”

  The anger fled completely from his eyes. “What? Just like that? Look, I admit to losing my patience at times, but firing me is a bit extreme. I’ll leave training to someone else from now on. You don’t have to fire me.”

  Skylar could see it took all of his self-discipline to grind out those duteous words. “No, I think I do.”

  Once again, a violent storm crowded his brow and he stepped closer, towering over her, his height nearly at Julien’s. “You can’t fire me. You can’t run this place without me.”

  Julien moved forward, his pistol in the side holster plainly visible.

&n
bsp; Shawn glanced his way, saw the pistol and met Skylar’s eyes with more hostility.

  “Get off my ranch,” Skylar said. “Now.”

  With one more look at Julien, Shawn turned and walked to his truck.

  “Marko,” Skylar said, “would you go get two or three of the biggest cattle cowboys and ask them to wait outside Shawn’s house to make sure he leaves?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Marko didn’t move. “There’s something else you should know.”

  Skylar became thoroughly attentive. What else would he bring to light?

  “Shawn’s girlfriend didn’t come home last night.”

  Shawn had a girlfriend?

  “How do you know that?”

  “She moved in with him a few weeks ago. I heard them fighting. Thing is, I haven’t heard fighting in a while. When I asked him where she was, he said he didn’t know.”

  A chill rode up her spine. She had the distinct impression that Marko was implying something he wasn’t exactly saying. And then it hit her. Did Marko think Shawn’s girlfriend could be the body she had seen wrapped in plastic? Recalling that Shawn had left just after she had spoken to him that day, she wondered if it was possible he had driven to the spot where she had seen the gunman. He had about the right build. The vehicle was different than the one he drove, though he could have parked his somewhere else.

  Julien stepped forward. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  “I didn’t know until yesterday. Jessica—one of the other grooms—said Felicia told her she was afraid of Shawn. He’d threatened her that if she left him, he would kill her.”

  His words hit like a big bomb dropping out of the sky. Skylar glanced at Julien.

  “What’s Felicia’s last name?” he asked.

  “Monroe?” Marko thought a few seconds longer. “No, Montague.”

  “Do you know anything else about her? Family? Friends? Where she lived prior to this?”

  Marko shook his head. “Not really. She had a Southern accent and I know she worked as a waitress in Waldon.”

  Waldon was a small town north of Irving, not far from the ranch.

  “What restaurant?” Julien asked.

  “I think she said Maxine’s.”

  Skylar had been there a few times. It was a cute little café.

  “I don’t know her,” Marko said. “I just thought it was suspicious, with Skylar seeing that body and all.”

  “Thank you, Marko. I’ll check into it,” Julien said.

  As Marko went off to find some big cowboys to escort her ex-deputy ranch manager off the property, Skylar’s mind whirred. Shawn lived rent-free in one of three fully furnished houses on the property. He had it made here. Why would he risk ruining that with this blowup? More important, had he killed his girlfriend?

  “What do you make of that?” she asked Julien.

  “Could he have made it to that area of fence line?” he asked.

  “Yes. He had ample time. But he knew I was going to check the fence. Why would he risk being seen?”

  “Did you ride the fence line right away?”

  “No. I checked on some cattle first.” She paused a second and then added, “And I told him I would.”

  “So, he could have thought he had time.”

  She still thought it would be too risky. Shawn was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. Still, Skylar felt glad she had fired him. But could she be sure he wouldn’t come back?

  * * *

  Julien insisted they go into Irving tonight. His main motive for taking her was to get Skylar’s mind off dead bodies and ranch workers who might be responsible for murder. His ulterior motive was to be somewhere public after those explosive kisses. But now he seriously questioned his logic.

  The driver he had arranged to take them opened the back door of the dark sedan in front of the restaurant. Julien got out first and then the vision that had arrested his senses when he’d first seen her emerge from her stairway stepped out.

  One knee peeked from the waist-high slit in the silky black dress. Transparent lace covered the gap in the slit to her ankles, making it a teasingly sexy getup. As she unfolded her body from inside the car, she unwittingly gave him a birds-eye view of the dipping neckline. Her breasts were not too small or too large. They were made for his hands and mouth.

  He offered his hand and walked with her to the entrance of the restaurant, one worthy of her family name and of him. Stepping into Edward’s Prime Seafood, he appreciated the soft lighting that set the right mood.

  The hostess took them to their table.

  “You know, I have been to restaurants before,” Skylar said as she sat.

  He went to his chair. “Yes, but not with me.”

  She smiled, her face lightly made up and her hair in a sophisticated updo, tendrils falling on each side of her face.

  “Is this supposed to make me yearn for the city?” she asked.

  “Maybe not yearn, but visit more often.” In truth, he did secretly hope to sway her away from her ranch lifestyle. Any woman who revved his engine the way she did with just a kiss was worth pursuing.

  Part of him warned he should be careful. Skylar was not an uncertain woman. She would not make big decisions haphazardly. He could wind up falling for her only to end up losing her.

  “What, exactly, do you like about the city?” she asked after they ordered something from the bar.

  “Everything. The noise. Lots of people. Things to do.”

  “The crime?”

  “I wouldn’t say I like crime. I like solving it. What is it about ranching you like so much?”

  “The opposite of what appeals to you about the city. The quiet. No people. As far as things to do, I can always drive to the city if the urge ever strikes.”

  Meaning she rarely had the urge.

  “Surely you get tired of doing the same thing every day. Don’t you ever want to catch a movie or a play or a concert or go somewhere like a museum or amusement park? Maybe a festival or two?”

  “Oh, I love festivals. But they usually involve hay and horses. You can’t tell me that a good old-fashioned Western festival doesn’t tempt you at all,” she said.

  No, actually it did have its fair share of pull. “I would enjoy that. We went to a lot of them when I was growing up on the farm. I usually don’t miss the State Fair, either.”

  Her head tipped slightly to one side in fascination. “Really?”

  “Believe it or not, yes. I like the rides and the music, and of course, the food trucks.”

  “Maybe you’re not as much of a city man as you think you are.”

  “Maybe you’re not as much of a cowgirl as you think you are.”

  He met her eyes and could feel her thinking they could not ignore their differences. Maybe they weren’t so different, but choosing a place to live was significant.

  Their wine arrived and they paused their conversation to savor it. Then Skylar met his eyes and spoke. “Can I ask you something really personal?”

  If she had to ask his permission, it must be something big. “Sure.”

  “Why did you really join Dark Alley Investigations?”

  There were numerous reasons he’s signed on with DAI. Its mission was to go above and beyond to find justice for victims and their families. Investigators had the freedom to work a case without reporting to anyone. The only rule was to preserve evidence.

  But his real reason for joining them? Well, he never talked about it. It still felt so fresh. He looked at her and he saw the genuine curiosity in her eyes. “My uncle Redford was murdered.”

  He hoped she wouldn’t question him too much.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” she said. “When did that happen, and how?”

  Julien had been close to his uncle. They’d fished and camped every year. He and Cal had talked about
him when Cal had told him about his grandfather’s death. Memories of his uncle still carried angry pain.

  “He died when I was with the Rangers. He’d always been healthy, never ill. He should have lived until he was a hundred. But after he lost his wife, he married again. Evelyn—”

  “Wait...you think his wife killed him?” Skylar asked.

  “Evelyn is many things, but warm or loving isn’t one of them. In my opinion, she’s more than capable of killing. She was coldhearted and self-centered.” He had never sensed any true love for his uncle, either, nor any sign of emotional attachment to anyone, not even to her kids. She had a snake’s charm and Julien had never believed most of what she’d said. She was apathetic. Narcissistic. Manipulative and superficial. All the things that characterized a psychopath.

  “How did he die?” Skylar asked.

  “Pulmonary fibrosis. It took more than a year,” Julien said. “People die naturally from that, of course, but because of Evelyn’s evil nature, I looked into poisons. Paraquat is an herbicide that, for one thing, if ingested, can cause pulmonary fibrosis. Most victims die within weeks but the timing depends greatly on the dose. I found one case where the victim ingested a small amount and survived, but died months later of pulmonary fibrosis.”

  “The doctors weren’t suspicious about your uncle’s death?”

  “No. Evelyn even took him to the Mayo Clinic, as if she truly meant to help him. The only thing she ever did was help him into his urn.” He looked down into his wine, hating having to relive the memories. “When she had him cremated, there was no possibility for tissue samples, even though the poison had long since left his system. But I started looking into her background and found out her first husband died in a similar fashion. He was also cremated.”

  Skylar sat back, staring at him in amazement. “How long was she married to her husbands?”

  “Ten years to her first. Fifteen to my uncle.”

  “Why would she murder them after being married to them so long?”

  “She enjoyed their money while they were alive. Once it was gone, she forced Red to take out several life insurance policies. Combined, they were worth one and a half million.”

  “That’s a solid motive.” Skylar sat in silence for a moment. “Did your uncle love her?”