by Rita Herron
Sadie rolled over with a soft sigh and threw her arm above her head, making the shirt she was sleeping in ride up, revealing the soft skin of her thigh.
Dammit, he wanted her.
He shoved the covers aside and stood. His legs still felt a little unsteady, but he wasn’t dizzy anymore, and he was actually hungry. That had to be a good sign.
He stumbled into the bathroom, took one look at his ragged beard stubble and sweat-soaked hair, and he flipped on the shower water, grabbed the toiletries Sadie had purchased for them, then shaved and showered.
Twenty minutes later, he bandaged his wound himself, feeling almost human again. Dressing in clean jeans and a T-shirt, he stepped into the kitchen, brewed a pot of coffee, then checked the refrigerator. Sadie’s friend had given them some sandwiches, but she must have stopped at the store while he was passed out in the car because he found milk, eggs, sausage, cheese and butter. A loaf of bread and a jar of jelly also sat on the counter.
Elated to find something so normal as food that he could cook himself without having to eat in a prison, he pulled out the groceries, dropped a half dozen of the sausages into the frying pan and fried them, then cracked several eggs into a bowl, added milk and scrambled them. The coffee had finished dripping, so he poured himself a mug full and sipped it, listening for Sadie. She must have been exhausted, though, because she was still asleep, so he ate, then left the rest of the sausage and eggs for her and stepped onto the front porch of the cabin.
The sounds of the ranch bursting to life echoed in the air. Horses galloped across the pasture, cows were grazing, trucks firing up again. Then he heard the sound of boys across the way. He watched them enter the stables, then each one led a horse outside to the grooming stations. Déjà vu of his own days with Johnny and Brandon, when they’d managed to land stable boy jobs as young teens taunted him.
Two cowboys strode into the pen, then moved from one boy to the next instructing them. Emotions crowded his chest. The cowboys here really cared about these kids. Just like Johnny and Brandon did. He wished he was a part of it.
Maybe he could be one day. If he cleared himself…
Emboldened by that thought, he slipped back inside and booted up his father’s computer.
A quick check and he noted that his father hadn’t paid his bills online, so he turned to the file box and began searching through it. His father didn’t have any kind of system, so he plowed through bills, past-due notices, truck repair invoices, out-of-date orders for feed and cattle, then sales receipts where he’d unloaded equipment to try to recoup losses before he’d gone to jail. He fished through another section and located foreclosure papers.
If his old man had let him take over, maybe he could have salvaged the ranch. But the SOB had refused to let Carter in the house.
Irritated, he yanked out several other folders and rifled through them. One in particular drew his eyes.
A letter from a man named Mulligan who had been interested in purchasing the ranch.
Mulligan—who the hell was he?
Another rancher? An investor?
His mind raced.
If someone wanted his father’s ranch, what better way to obtain it than pick it up in foreclosure? The man could have bought it for next to nothing.
Especially with Carter out of the way in prison, unable to challenge a sale by claiming the property legally belonged to him.
He searched the folders but didn’t find a bill of sale or any other connection to Mulligan. In the case of his father’s death, he would have had to stipulate whom the property went to in his will.
If his old man even had one.
On a mission to find a will now, he thumbed through the remaining folders. Years of tax returns, bank statements, more bills he’d defaulted on…
A third of the way in, he hit pay dirt.
He found a brown manila envelope marked Will, so he removed it and opened the envelope. Itching to see if he was mentioned, he spread the document on the table and began skimming through the legal jargon.
But he stopped short when he reached the section about next of kin. Carter’s name was nowhere to be found.
Instead, the will stipulated that the property go to a cousin of his, Elmore Clement.
Dammit, had his father hated him so much he’d rather give his land to a distant relative than to him?
To a cousin Carter had never even heard of?
SADIE ROLLED SIDEWAYS, feeling for Carter, but the bed was empty. A pang of disappointment enveloped her. She hadn’t shared her bed with many men in her life, and even though she and Carter hadn’t made love, she felt closer to him because he had held her in the night. In fact, it was the best night’s sleep she’d had in years.
And for one night, she’d forgotten the danger and trouble following them.
Marginally refreshed, she rose and stepped into the bathroom. The scent of fresh soap and shampoo filled the room, indicating Carter had showered. He must be feeling stronger this morning.
Not knowing what they might face today, she stripped the nightshirt and stepped beneath the warm spray of water. As she shampooed her hair, she closed her eyes and imagined Carter joining her. She could see the water droplets glistening on his bare skin, his body hardening with desire as she reached out to stroke him.
Her body tingled, and she jerked her eyes awake. She never fantasized about a man. Especially not since the attack.
But she wanted more with Carter. She wanted him to touch her and erase the memory of Lester’s brutal assault.
She wanted him to love her.
Dangerous territory.
Suddenly antsy to find out where he was and if he’d discovered a clue in the house, she rinsed and dried off, then hurriedly dressed. She couldn’t find a hair dryer, so she braided her damp hair in a long braid to dry, then headed into the kitchen.
Carter was pouring a cup of coffee, a scowl on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Sadie asked.
He handed her the mug, then poured another one for himself. “I found some papers that started me thinking.”
Sadie settled into one of the kitchen chairs and sipped her coffee. “About what?”
Carter propped himself against the counter, his expression troubled. “First I found a letter from a man named Mulligan who was interested in buying my father’s ranch.”
“Mulligan?” Sadie said. “A man named Mulligan is overseeing the Uranium Mining Venture in Texas. Did your father sell to him?”
Carter shook his head. “No, at least I haven’t found anything indicating that he did.”
Sadie blew into the steaming mug. “You said you found something else?”
“Yes.” Carter gestured toward the papers he’d spread on the table. “My father’s will.”
“He willed the land to you,” Sadie said, hopeful.
Carter shook his head again. “Nope. To a cousin of mine I’ve never even heard of.”
Sadie rubbed her temple in thought. “That sounds odd.”
Carter tapped his foot. “Yeah, it does. My old man was not a family kind of guy. As a matter of fact, I don’t remember him ever mentioning any relatives. His parents died before I was even born. He had no siblings that I know of. So who is this cousin?”
Sadie frowned, sensing his suspicions. “You think someone forged the papers?”
“It occurred to me.” Carter shrugged. “Just think about it. My father gets locked up. Someone wants this land, and my dad’s sick. Maybe he’s on drugs or on his deathbed and they con him into signing a will where they’ve altered the beneficiary.” He snapped his fingers. “Come to think of it, maybe he didn’t die of natural causes. Maybe they murdered him for the land.”
“And with you in prison, no one is around to question it,” Sadie said, following his logic.
Carter’s frown grew deeper. “That’s right. And we both know someone set me up.”
Sadie sighed. “To get you out of the way.”
“Right.” Carter paced
to the table and straddled a chair. “Now I just have to figure out why they wanted the land bad enough to frame me for murder.”
Sadie’s head swam. If Carter was right, they were still in danger.
And if Lester had been working for someone else, whoever that was wouldn’t stop until they covered up the past and killed Carter.
A knock sounded at the door, and they both tensed.
Chapter Fourteen
Carter reached for his weapon and motioned for Sadie to go into the bedroom, but before she could make it, the door opened.
Johnny poked his head in. Surprise tightened his face at the sight of Carter’s gun.
“Dammit, Johnny,” Carter mumbled. “I could have shot you.”
“Sorry.” Johnny shut the door and stepped inside. “I told you I’d come by this morning and we’d make a plan.”
“I know,” Carter mumbled. “I’m just on edge.”
He gestured toward Sadie and introduced them, then explained what he’d found so far, reiterating his theory.
If someone wanted his father’s ranch and wanted it cheap, what better way than to pick it up in foreclosure? Whoever had orchestrated this plan must have known that Carter would have dropped everything to run the place and keep it afloat.
“So sending you to jail for murder paved the way for them to sneak in and finagle the land away from your father,” Johnny said. “Sounds like a drastic plan to obtain control of land that might not be worth anything.”
“Maybe it was worth more than we thought,” Carter said.
“He could be right,” Sadie added. “Mulligan, the man who was interested in buying his land, works for the Uranium Mining Venture. The tribal community has dealt with him before. He’s really pushing mining in the state.”
“I heard about him,” Johnny said tightly.
Sadie scowled. “The Navajo community has been worried about uranium mining and its effect on their only water source. In the late ’70s, Navajo uranium miners and their families asked for help to prove that their lung diseases had been caused by their work in underground mines from the ’40s to the ’60s.”
Carter jerked his head up. “Lung diseases?”
Sadie nodded. “Congress adopted legislation in 1990 to compensate former miners and their survivors.” Sadie made a frustrated sound. “But it’s not enough. There were so many people affected by it, it’s been difficult to process all the complaints. Who knows how it will affect future generations, especially if standards are not instigated to protect the water supply.”
Carter’s suspicions mounted. His father had developed lung cancer. “Sadie, this may be the clue we’ve been looking for.”
Johnny frowned. “Dammit, if they are mining that land it could be affecting our water supply on the BBL, too. Lately, we’d discovered some small animals dead. And yesterday, Brody reported a couple of our cows were sick.”
“Then the venture has to be stopped,” Carter said.
Sadie stood and made a sandwich with the sausage, cheese and toast. “Carter, how did your father die?”
“They told me he had lung cancer.” He pulled his hand down his chin. “But now I’m wondering what really happened.”
Johnny drummed his fingers on the table. “There are mines on your daddy’s property, Carter. Remember, we used to play out near them when we were little.”
“Yeah, I don’t know if they have uranium in them, though.”
“They must, or Mulligan wouldn’t have been interested. With the need for U.S. uranium nuclear energy products, that land is probably really valuable.”
Carter’s stomach knotted. “Enough so that someone might have killed to gain access to it.”
SADIE SEARCHED HER MEMORY for details about Mulligan. He was a cutthroat businessman who went after what he wanted and got it.
He must have discovered that Carter’s ranch land was valuable. But would he frame Carter for murder to get him out of the way so he could gain access to it?
“But how does Dyer fit into the puzzle?” Sadie asked.
“Maybe he was working for Mulligan,” Carter suggested.
“That’s a possibility.” The controversy at the reservation over the water issues had been going on for years. Growing up, she remembered losing several of the elders to lung cancer after watching them wither away.
If Mulligan was prospering because of it and continuing to mine without following standards, he had to be stopped. And if it affected the BBL, they were not only endangering animals but also the kids and employees of the BBL.
“I have to find this so-called cousin of mine,” Carter said. “See if he’s behind this.”
“Where is he?” Johnny asked.
Carter glanced at the papers in search of an address and frowned. “The address is for an office in San Antonio. I’m going there to find him. Maybe he can verify if there are uranium mines on the Flagstone farm.”
Sadie shrugged. “We could go look for them ourselves.”
“We will, but the ranch is a big piece of property. First I want to confront Elmore Clement and see how he convinced my father to list him as his beneficiary.”
“How can I help?” Johnny asked.
“See what your P.I. friend can dig up on Dyer, Mulligan and Clement.”
Johnny gave a clipped nod. “You got it.”
Carter gripped his side as he stood. “By the way, where is my dad buried?”
“The old cemetery near his property.”
“Did they do an autopsy?” Carter asked.
Johnny shrugged. “I don’t know. You want me to find out?”
“Yeah, and if they didn’t do one, see if we can have his body exhumed and get one done.”
“That’s not an easy feat,” Johnny said. “You’ll need a court order, and no judge is going to issue one unless he has evidence of a suspicious death.”
Carter gritted his teeth. “Then we find evidence.”
Sadie stood. “Let’s go, Carter.”
Carter dumped the rest of his coffee, then opened the door and the three of them headed outside.
Maybe Carter would finally find the answers he deserved.
ADRENALINE RACED through Carter. He finally felt as if he was close to the truth.
And as he watched the boys grooming the horses on the way past the stable, fierce protective instincts kicked in.
These kids needed the BBL, and he wasn’t about to let someone endanger them or the animals here.
“Are you thinking that cancer didn’t kill your father?” Sadie asked.
“I don’t know,” Carter said. “He was obviously sick, but maybe someone helped him to an early grave so they could gain access to his land.”
Had his father known about the mines? Or had he actually been part of the scheme, then victimized?
Dammit. His father had been such a low-life bastard it was hard to believe he’d ever been victimized, or that someone could have cheated him.
But Carter hadn’t seen him in years, and disease and years of booze could rob a man of his mind.
Carter scanned the roads and side roads, searching for cops as they headed into San Antonio. Early morning traffic was starting to thicken, and Sadie tried to blend in, weaving into traffic with the daily commuters.
“What’s the address?” Sadie asked.
He read her the street number, absentmindedly patting the will inside his pocket. He knew it was risky to confront Clement himself, but it was a risk he had to take. Besides, he wanted to see Clement’s reaction, if he’d already drawn up papers to transfer the deed to himself. Or maybe he’d already sold the property to Mulligan.
Most likely, Clement was a con man, and he and Mulligan had been working together from the beginning.
Sadie maneuvered through the downtown streets of San Antonio, past the riverfront, then down a side street on the other side of the city.
“We’re leaving San Antonio,” Sadie said. “Are you sure this address is correct?”
Carter frown
ed. “That’s what it said in the documents. Clement supposedly worked for a real estate agency.” She veered down the highway a few miles until they came to a set of smaller buildings, some that looked abandoned, as if the strip had once held businesses but they had all gone defunct.
“That’s the address.”
She turned into the parking lot, and he checked the numbers. A sagging real estate sign teetered in the wind advertising the entire strip was for sale. Overgrown shrubs and dry, brittle grass bordered the ramshackle building. Two had been boarded up while the windows had been knocked out in the middle unit, and graffiti littered the front of the last building on the right. The real estate office.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in a long time,” Sadie said.
“Maybe, maybe not.” Carter opened the truck door. “Could be the reason Clement used it. They wanted an out-of-the-way meeting site that wouldn’t create suspicion.”
Sadie shrugged, climbed out and walked beside him to the last building on the left. The wooden steps creaked as they climbed the stoop, then Carter checked the door to see if it was locked. But the door screeched open, and a strange feeling swept through Carter as if they were entering a ghost town.
Then the vile stench hit him. Human wastes. Blood. Body decay.
Sadie gagged and rocked back on her heels, stepping back outside to drag in air. Carter yanked a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his nose and mouth.
“Wait out here, Sadie. And yell if you see a car.”
Sadie clenched the door edge, her mouth twisting into a grimace. “It smells like death.”
“I know. I have a bad feeling it’s Clement.”
Sadie gripped his arm. “Be careful.”
He gave her a clipped nod, then inched inside. Cobwebs and mold added to the weathered feeling, the sight of dried blood on the floor confirming his suspicions about the source of the smell.
He crept closer, scanning the dark hallway from the front reception area to the back room where the odor was coming from. One step at a time, he moved, listening in case someone else appeared, but judging from the odor, whoever was dead had been dead for a while. Flies and insects buzzed, the stench of body fluids evident.