by Joanna Wayne
“Makes sense. The abductor has to be hooking up with his victims somewhere.”
“I have extra copies of the photo. I’ll leave that one with you. Perhaps your wife or some of your wranglers may have seen her.”
“That’s a damn good idea. I’ll post the photo in the bunkhouse and tell them to check it out. Now back to my offer of a reward. How about twenty-five thousand dollars for anyone who gives information that leads to the rescue of the four missing women?”
“That’s extremely generous,” Sydney said. “If you’re serious I’ll talk to my supervisor at the FBI and see how he wants to handle this.”
“I’m serious as the business end of a .45.”
“If that’s settled, we should probably be going and let you get back to work,” Tucker said.
“You’re right. A rancher can’t afford to be burning daylight these days.” Dudley gulped down the last of his iced tea and stood.
Sydney thanked Dudley again for his cooperation and reward offer as he walked them to the front door. There was no sign of Millie.
“If you’re this way in the fall, let’s do some hunting, Tucker.”
“I’ll hold you to that if I get back this way,” Tucker said. “Can’t make any promises. The fall rodeo circuit doesn’t allow for much time off.”
But if he didn’t get back to bull riding soon, he may as well spend the fall hunting. He still needed to accumulate points and earnings to get to the championship round.
They’d climbed back in his truck and were still buckling their seat belts when Sydney hit him with the next humdinger.
“I think there’s a good chance Charlie Kavanaugh was murdered and that someone in the Miles family is responsible.”
Chapter Twelve
“Don’t look so shocked,” Sydney said. “I didn’t pull this out of the clouds. Dudley himself offered the motive. Charlie wasn’t going to go along with his lying to the court.”
“Dudley just offered you twenty-five thousand dollars. He’s been a philanthropist all his life, has helped fund every charity event that takes place in this part of Texas. He’d been a friend to Charlie for years. I find it hard to see him as Charlie’s killer.”
“I didn’t say Dudley killed him. It may have been Millie or their daughter, Angela. They wouldn’t have had to do the deed themselves. They could have paid someone else. Believe me, that happens far more than most people realize.”
“I wouldn’t put anything past Angela, but Dudley just admitted we were the first ones he’d ever talked to about Charlie’s threat.”
“His life was in a state of heartbreaking turmoil at the time. He may have forgotten or Charlie may have mentioned it to someone and it got back to Angela.”
“You could be right,” Tucker admitted. “But I think we’re jumping tracks here. Are you trying to tie what happened to Dudley’s grandson to Sara Goodwin or to Rachel’s and the other women’s disappearance?”
“No. Not at this point, but I can’t ignore the facts. I have a sworn duty to turn this information over to someone in authority. I just wanted to alert you first.”
“You do what you have to do,” Tucker said. “If Charlie was murdered, the last thing I want is to see his killer go free.”
“Then we’re on the same page.”
She breathed easier. Nothing Tucker said would keep her from following her conscience but she didn’t want him to feel as if she were turning on him.
She benefited from bouncing ideas off him, respected his opinion. She liked riding with him in his truck. Liked the sound of his voice and the saunter when he walked.
Sydney took a deep breath. There was no denying the swelling attraction but she couldn’t deal with any of that right now. There was far too much at stake.
She was making a phone call to Jackson when they passed a lopsided gate with a crooked sign that said Kurlacky’s Acres. She wondered if Tucker was serious about buying that land. From bull riding to raising bulls. Somehow she couldn’t see that happening any more than she could see herself walking away from the FBI. One day maybe, but not anytime soon.
When Jackson answered, she explained Dudley’s offer of the reward. As expected, he was all for it.
He had good news, as well. One of Cavazos’s deputies would be dropping off a thumb drive for her at the ranch. The material would include a copy of relevant footage from Dani’s Delights security camera.
She broke the connection and twisted in her seat so that she could face Tucker while she caught him up to date. He was staring straight ahead, his hands wrapped tight around the steering wheel. His brows furrowed into deep wrinkles.
“You’re doing it again,” she said.
“Doing what?”
“Shutting me out of what’s bothering you.”
“What’s bothering me is that we haven’t located your sister or apprehended the kidnapper from hell.”
“You mentioned before that you were dealing with troubling decisions.”
“It’s nothing.”
She didn’t believe him, but then, she knew so little about him that she could be reading this all wrong. “I’m a good listener, but if you really want me to butt out, just say so and I won’t mention it again.”
“Is that straight from the ‘good cop’ manual?”
“I’ll take that comment to mean you don’t need my input.”
They rode in silence until he turned onto Main Street for Sydney to get her car.
“I have to pick up some supplies at the drugstore before I drive back to the ranch,” she said.
He nodded but didn’t turn to face her until he pulled up next to her car. “Sorry for the bite of sarcasm back there. That was my macho defenses kicking in.”
“Apology accepted.”
“If you’re still game to have me unload on you, I have a proposition for you.”
He sounded so serious she was almost afraid to answer. “Let’s hear it.”
“Go horseback riding with me when we get back to the ranch. I know the perfect spot for you to unwind and me to spout my problems. It comes with a sunset and a fabulous view.”
“Okay, cowboy. You’ve got yourself a deal.”
* * *
IT HAD BEEN several years since Sydney had been on a horse but it took only a few minutes for her to feel at home in the saddle again. Her mount was a gentle black quarter horse named Beauty, said to be one of Constance’s favorites.
Beauty needed little guidance from Sydney but easily kept up with the much-larger sorrel that Tucker rode. They started out at a walk.
“You look like you’ve been riding all your life,” Tucker said. “You didn’t mention you were such an experienced horsewoman.”
“Beauty is making this easy. I dated a guy whose father owned a ranch back in college but I haven’t done much riding since.”
“He taught you well. Are you more comfortable at a walk or are you ready to pick up the pace a bit?”
She wanted to race like the wind, wanted to feel the wind in her face and feel as free as she had before her sister had been swallowed up by evil.
That wasn’t going to happen, but losing control and being thrown by Beauty was a distinct possibility if she became too carried away. She’d already had one fall today and lucked out with only minor injuries. No reason to push her good fortune.
“Let me get used to the walk for a few more minutes. If Beauty hasn’t turned on me by then, we can move up to an easy lope.”
“A lope. You’re starting to sound like a cowgirl.”
“You know the old saying. Love a horse before you fall in love with a man.”
“And did you?”
“Fall in love with the horse or a man?”
“Either.”
“Not yet, but I could qu
ickly grow fond of a sweet little filly like Beauty.”
Tucker picked up the pace and she followed a few paces behind. He sat straight in the saddle, his long legs a perfect fit in the stirrups, his Stetson making the definitive statement. This was his world. Livestock, horses, bull riding. He was the real deal.
Tucker slowed until they were riding side by side. He looked at her and tipped his hat. Something bubbled inside her like fine champagne. Her pulse quickened.
“You’re smiling,” he said. “Does that mean you’re up for a longer ride?”
“Sure. My overwrought nerves are even starting to unknot a bit.” At least for the moment.
“Then let’s take the horses to a gallop and see if the ranching spirit can refresh your soul.”
She experienced a full five minutes of exhilaration before a new wave of anxiety and guilt hit with the force of exploding dynamite. Her fingers tangled in Beauty’s reins as horrifying images swept through her mind.
Rachel, enduring the touch of a monster. Rachel, starving and begging for food. Rachel, cowering in fear while she prayed and waited in vain for her FBI agent sister to come to her rescue.
It took all Sydney’s mental strength to keep the images from sinking into the blackest pit of all.
She took deep breaths, fighting to return to full mental control. Guilt and panic were two of the worst possible emotions for her in this situation. Undue stress leads to poor decision-making. She’d heard that countless times since coming to work for the Bureau.
She wasn’t in this alone. Jackson and three of the top agents in the FBI were working this case. Local law enforcement with all their manpower were out there hitting the streets day and night.
An hour’s time spent with Tucker after a day that started at daybreak would only make her more alert, more focused and better able to give Jackson what he needed from her.
An accurate profile of the perp so that they could narrow their parameters and track him down before he struck again or a new body was discovered.
She straightened in the saddle and took a deep breath. In minutes, she’d talked herself through the panic attack. Her nerves settled enough that she could appreciate the serenity of the environment.
They had obviously been steadily climbing while she’d been overcome with her bout of needless guilt. They were at the crest of a hill. Acres and acres of rolling pastures crisscrossed by barbwire and dotted with clusters of towering pines and ancient oaks stretched out in all directions.
The sky above was painted in streams of gold as the sun began its descent to the distant horizon. She reined in Beauty to a slow walk and let the tranquility seep bone-deep.
Tucker came back to join her. “This is the best view on the ranch.”
“It’s amazing, like a painting springing to life as I watch.”
“When I was twelve, I used to ride up here and pretend I was the king and all the land I could see was my kingdom.”
“I suppose it is someone’s kingdom. Is this all part of the Double K?”
“Not all, but a good bit of it. Charlie bought it when land was cheap. A spread like this today would cost like it was a rich kingdom. Esther sold it to Pierce for a fraction of its true worth.”
“Did it upset you and Riley that she chose to sell it to Pierce?”
“Not in the least. A ranch this size is an enormous amount of work and responsibility. Riley and I weren’t ready to take that on and likely never will be. It all worked out great. Pierce is a born rancher. Esther will always have her home. It’s a win-win.”
Tucker dismounted and then helped her from the saddle. He tethered their horses to a tree branch near a shallow creek. Both horses quickly waded in and lowered their necks for a long drink.
“There’s more to see,” Tucker said, “though you might prefer to miss it.”
“Why would I?”
“It’s another rocky gorge, steeper than this morning but with far less water rushing over the edge to the rocky creek below.”
“Since we’ve already proved I’m about as graceful and sure-footed as a drunk chimp on skates, how about we save that for next time?”
“The next time it is.”
Tucker took a small Mexican blanket from his saddlebag and tossed it over his shoulder. They walked upstream a few yards before he spread the blanket over a thick carpet of grass and pine straw.
Sydney knelt and then settled herself cross-legged.
Tucker joined her on the blanket except that he stretched out on his back and tugged his Stetson low on his forehead to protect from the glare of the low-riding sun.
A honeyed warmth crept through her. Wrong time. Wrong place. But being with Tucker felt so right.
“I can tell you’re good at it, but what made you choose a career with the FBI?” Tucker asked.
“My dad was a homicide detective. He was the most amazing and bravest man I knew and I always wanted to follow in his footsteps. He raised Rachel and me pretty much single-handedly after my mother died from complications from what was supposed to be routine removal of a benign tumor.”
“Where is your dad now?”
“He died of a bullet wound to the head trying to intervene and save a kid who’d gotten caught up in gang warfare. He had one more year until he retired.”
“How old were you then?”
“It was my first year in college. When I graduated, I was hired by the FBI and knew from day one it was where I belonged.”
“You picked a dangerous career.”
“I try not to think too much about that. I know it involves risk, but I’m doing what I love. What’s life if you lose your passion?”
“I suppose that’s a question everyone has to answer at one time or another.”
She untwisted her legs and lay back on her side facing him, suddenly craving the extra closeness. “Most of the time I think I have it all figured out. This week I’m hanging on by a thread that’s on the verge of splitting in two. Any bravado I manage to exhibit is fake.”
“That’s why I’m hanging around,” Tucker said. He propped himself up on his elbow so that they were inches apart and facing each other. “I’ll be there to catch you if the thread snaps.”
“I appreciate that, but you know that if we compared job risks, you’d win by a landslide. Bull riding has to be the most dangerous sport in the world.”
“Most bull riders would agree with you on that.”
“How often do you get hurt?”
“Every time I get thrown, but there are lots of different degrees of hurt. Mostly it’s lumps and bruises that a six-pack of beer and a few painkillers can handle. But I’ve broken a few bones. Had a couple of concussions. Wounded my pride more times than I can count.”
“And yet you still do it?”
“Yeah. Like you said. It’s the passion. And it’s my life.”
“We came up here to talk about you,” she said. “Lest we get sidetracked, what kind of decisions are you struggling with?”
“None,” he said. “The decisions have all been made. Passion wins.”
His voice grew husky. She met his gaze and felt as if she was drowning in the depths of his sun-kissed eyes.
She should move away. She should get up.
She did neither.
Tucker slipped his arms around her and pulled her close. His raw strength made her feel weak and empowered at the same time. An unfamiliar hunger raged inside her.
His lips found hers and she melted into his kiss. The world tilted out of focus, releasing a rush of mystifying emotions that created a need she couldn’t fight.
Out of breath and with tears spilling from her eyes, she finally pulled away.
Tucker wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m so sorry, Sydney. I don’t know what came o
ver me. It just happened and then...”
“Please don’t be sorry. I’m not crying because you kissed me. I don’t even know why I’m crying. It’s just that I’m an emotional wreck and I just can’t do this right now.”
“I understand. Just know that I never meant to hurt you or take advantage of your vulnerability. That’s the last thing I’d willingly do.”
He stood and then took her outstretched hands and pulled her to her feet.
The strength in his arms and hands almost sent her into tears again. He was her haven in the storm, but was it only safety she’d been thinking about when she got lost in his kiss?
“Promise me something,” she said as they walked back to the horses.
“Anything.”
“When this is over and Rachel and the others are safe, promise me we’ll get together and finish that kiss.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
* * *
RACHEL HEARD THE approaching footsteps but didn’t cower in fear. The monster was like an attack dog. If he sensed fear, he became even more abusive and punishing.
She was experimenting with a new defense theory, a version of reverse Stockholm syndrome. Play with his mind. Give him reasons to think she understood him and enjoyed his horrid visits to her private hellhole.
The door opened. She forced a smile so fake it made her sick to her stomach. “You’re here,” she murmured. “I was afraid something had happened to you.”
“You needn’t worry about that. I’m in complete control and I have a nice surprise for you.”
“I hope it’s that you’ll take me out of this room. I can cook dinner for you while you relax.”
“No—guess again. Wait. Don’t bother. I’ll tell you.” He smiled, showing his snuff-stained teeth, and walked nearer.
“I saw your sister today.”
Chapter Thirteen
There was no way of knowing if the monster was lying or telling the truth. Sometimes she wasn’t even sure he knew, but there was a good chance he’d run into Sydney.
Rachel had known all along that Sydney would come looking for her as soon as she realized Rachel was missing. With FBI capabilities on her side, she’d have had no trouble following the paper trail to Winding Creek.