Obviously, no one heard.
His energy depleted for the moment, Gray settled back to wait.
And to plot his escape.
With AN UNEASY TRUCE between Cash and her, Reine retraced her path toward the mouth of the canyon on foot, meaning to water the horses at the creek before they remounted. But when the hairs on the back of her neck prickled, she stopped and glanced back at the abandoned mill.
“Did you hear something?”
Cash turned, too, his gaze seeming to pierce every inch of the small canyon.
“Must be a coyote or rabbit,” he finally said.
“No ... well ... maybe. ”
She listened hard but heard nothing more. Her imagination was getting the best of her.
They moved on to the creek and let the horses drink.
She’d detoured Cash to the old mill purposely. She’d hoped the place could do what she hadn’t been able to manage. But if sentiment could affect him, he wasn’t showing it. He wouldn’t admit to anything but wanting to fulfill his vow to Jasper Matlock.
For a moment, she’d been certain he was going to say something else—something about her.
If he had... Reine wasn’t actually certain what she would have done.
Cash had changed so much—his attitude toward life, his self-invoivement, his polished good looks.
His clothes all carried designer labels, she was certain. His boots were definitely handmade. His oncetangled black hair was now cut short and crisp. His strong features—aquiline nose, high forehead, square chin—were bronzed just enough to set off green sparks in his hazel eyes.
Gone were all traces of the wild boy she’d given her heart to. This man was controlled.
And controlling, Reine reminded herself.
“I wonder if they’ve heard anything from the kidnapper yet,” she murmured, broaching the subject yet again.
“You didn’t say what the law was doing to find Gray in the meantime.”
“No law. Uncle Jasper wouldn’t hear of it. I think that’s a mistake, but he’s afraid for Gray’s life if he goes against the kidnapper’s orders.”
“That’s what the bastard is counting on. You could bring in the sheriff.”
“No. I won’t defy him.”
“So that hasn’t changed, either,” Cash muttered, vaulting himself into the saddle.
Unable to think of an appropriate response in her defense, Reine followed suit and headed for the section of the range where she expected to find Tobiah Hill.
A LOUD RINGING STARTLED Jasper straight up in his chair.
Having drifted off while going over his personal finances, he was instantly awake.
The phone rang again.
He wrapped a trembling hand around the receiver and lifted it to his ear.
“Matlock, here.”
“Mr. Matlock,” said the sexless voice he’d been hoping to hear. “Are you ready to do business?”
“What have you done with my son?” Jasper demanded.
A chilly laugh from the other end scraped up his spine.
“If you’re not going to be serious, we have nothing to discuss.”
“Please! I just want to be sure Gray is all right.”
He sweated out the silence, fearing the caller would hang up. But the connection remained viable.
Finally, the kidnapper said, “Gray is alive and well... for the moment. Whether or not he stays in good health all depends on your willingness to cooperate.”
Of course, he’d do anything in his power to assure Gray’s safety. Realizing that this was one situation where his demands would get him nowhere, Jasper got a grip on himself.
“What is it you want from me?”
“First...assurance there won’t be any interference from the authorities—”
“I didn’t call them! I won’t!”
“Good. Second... the reward for Gray’s being returned in one piece.”
Jasper saw red on that one. “Reward”—his Aunt Fanny! This was extortion!
He tried not to sound too anxious when he asked, “How much?”
“Two million.”
He closed his eyes. Where the hell was he going to get two million dollars? Having just gone over his books, he figured the most he could easily get his hands on by cashing in all his and Marlene’s personal investments was a little over three hundred thousand.
“I don’t have access to that kind of cash.”
“Then I suggest you get it. Fast.”
“How?” He couldn’t help sounding desperate.
“You have assets,” the icy voice reminded him. “Surely you have something of value to sell. I’ll give you until sundown on Monday.”
“Three days? That’s impossible!”
“It better be possible or you won’t see your son again... alive. Until Monday...”
“Wait!”
But the line went dead.
Jasper sat, stunned, unable to move.
Two million... in cash...three days.
What the hell was he going to do?
Sell “something of value,” as the kidnapper had instructed?
Matlock Construction was already in big trouble. Few people other than himself knew how big.
But the ranch was unencumbered by debt. He’d made sure of that. And it was worth a heck of lot more than two million, though for a quick sale he’d probably have to settle for a lot less than its true worth.
What a nightmare!
If he wanted to see Gray alive, he’d have to sell off most if not all of Matlock Ranch. And he could only think of one man who both wanted the property and would be able to come up with that kind of money fast.
The name came to him again like a curse—Cash!
Was this the bastard’s newest plan to get his hands on the spread?
At Zane Abreu’s funeral, Cash had vowed that he’d take everything Jasper cared about from him. Jasper had figured Cash would forget about the empty threat once he’d cooled down. And it had seemed as if he had.
But Cash had merely been biding his time.
Jasper wasn’t blind, deaf and dumb. He knew the financial problems at Matlock Construction had been orchestrated by the whelp. If he lost the company, he would know whom to blame.
And if he lost the ranch... or Gray lost his life?
Would that be Cash’s doing, as well?
Chapter Four
Friday, late afternoon
Cash remembered Tobiah Hill as the kind of man who, because he said little, heard more than most. Therefore, Reine’s idea about seeking out the foreman for information that might give them a lead made sense.
Not that he’d actually committed himself to anything. He was merely going along for the ride.
“Matlock know you’re playing detective?” Cash asked, wondering what Reine meant to do with whatever she learned.
“I didn’t say anything, no.”
“Why not? You’d think he’d be grateful. But that’s not his style, is it?”
“Uncle Jasper can be a difficult man....”
Difficult was too kind a word as far as he was concerned.
“Sort of like you,” Reine added, raising his hackles.
“Don’t compare me to that bastard!”
“‘That bastard’ happens to be your father.”
“My father is dead and buried.”
Zane Abreu would always be his real father, Cash thought, no matter the accident of his birth.
“And how do you think Zane would feel about what you’ve become?”
Not missing the disapproval in her tone, he said, “He’d be proud I made something of my life.”
“Really?”
Before he could demand that she explain herself, Reine urged her Palomino into a lope and shot ahead.
Akando was revving for a match race, but Cash kept him—and his own temper—under control. Let her have the lead—for now.
It wasn’t long before the occasional stray cow multiplied until they were cutting thr
ough a herd toward hired hands who were conferring at the far end of the pasture. A couple of the boys rode off while a few others hung around the truck that was being used as a chuck wagon.
When they rode up, the foreman was just pouring himself a cup of coffee and having a face-down with one of his men. Cash recognized the bald man with skin tanned as dark as old leather. Ozzie Skinner was a local man who’d drifted in and out of the valley ever since he could remember.
Grasping his brimmed hat in one hand, lit cigar in the other, the hired hand said smoothly, “I’m tellin’ you, I couldn’t get here no sooner this mornin’.”
“This is your last warning, Skinner,” the foreman replied. “No more of this showing up when it suits you.”
Reine and Cash dismounted and tied up their horses at a hitching post that had been set up near the truck, where they hung back to wait until Tobiah was free.
“Then give me a coupla days off officially,” Skinner was saying, his tone wheedling. “That’d be best. I pulled something in my back the other day and sittin’ in this saddle ain’t makin’ it feel none too good, I can tell you. I could hardly move this mornin’, no less roll outta my bunk.”
“Take all the days you need,” Tobiah agreed, “long as you don’t mind finding yourself another place when you decide your back is better.”
“Are you sayin’ you don’t believe me?”
“Don’t matter whether I do or not. I’m not running this operation shorthanded. There’s at least a dozen outta-work men around town who’ll be glad to take your place if you don’t need it. Now back to work.”
Cash didn’t miss the sour expression that crossed Skinner’s homely face before he stuffed his cigar into his mouth, mumbled, “Yessir!” and stomped off toward his horse.
Tobiah took a long swig of coffee and grumbled, “Slacker.”
Reine poked Cash in the side and moved toward the foreman.
Cash hadn’t seen the man since his daddy’s funeral seventeen years before. Then, Tobiah had just been one of the dozens of young cowboys on the Matlock spread, and so Cash was a little startled when they came face-to-face. Tobiah couldn’t be much older than his mother, but hard outdoor work had left its stamp on his sun-wrinkled face, thin whipcord-hard body and grizzled hair and mustache.
“Miss Reine,” the foreman said, though he wasn’t actually looking at her.
His pale blue eyes had gone all spooky when they’d settled on Cash. Not knowing what Tobiah might be thinking about his presence, Cash kept his expression neutral and nodded in a friendly manner.
“Tobiah. Been a long time.”
“That it has, Cash. Truth to tell, I’m surprised to see you here.”
“Makes two of us.”
“Tobiah,” Reine said, finally getting the man’s full attention. “I was hoping you could spare a few minutes to talk to me.”
“About Gray? Nothing new to tell you, miss. Sorry. We lost his trail and couldn’t pick it up again.”
“I meant about who might be responsible for his disappearance in the first place.”
“Wouldn’t know nothing about that.”
“You might be surprised at how much more you know than you realize,” she assured him, her manner more charming than any Chase had seen to date. “So, will you talk to me?”
“Course I’ll help you any way I can.” He returned his spooky gaze to Cash. “So why’re you here?”
Reine joined in, challenging him with a look, as well. Cash felt as if he’d been put on the spot. Unfortunately, he couldn’t get around the foreman the way he could her.
“Let’s say I don’t want anything to happen to Gray that could be prevented.”
Tobiah nodded with seeming satisfaction, but Reine couldn’t quite hide her frustration. Cash smiled inside but remained outwardly passive.
The foreman refilled his cup, saying, “Help yourself to some coffee.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Cash said. “Reine?”
“None for me, thanks.”
Cash quickly filled a tin cup, then followed them around the chuck wagon.
“Think I’ll take a load off,” Tobiah was saying.
Indicating the logs set into an incline that could be used as crude benches, the foreman sat himself down on one. When Cash joined Reine on the other, he couldn’t miss her discomfort at the near contact. Cash saluted her with his cup and took a slug of coffee. She inched over, putting as much distance between them as possible.
“Now, what exactly can I tell you, Miss Reine?” Tobiah asked.
“Well, I was trying to figure out why anyone would want to kidnap Gray in the first place—”
“Greed, pure and simple.”
“I’m not so sure there’s anything simple about it,” she argued. “I wonder if someone doesn’t have a vendetta against my uncle.”
“Yep, ‘someone’ sure does.” His gaze flashed meaningfully to Cash.
“True.” No point in Cash denying it when Tobiah Hill had been at his daddy’s funeral and had witnessed his showdown with Matlock. “But I had nothing to do with this. I would never put an innocent person in jeopardy.” He didn’t add especially not Gray. “You can’t tell me I’m the only one who has something against Matlock.”
“Didn’t say that. But you’re the most likely who’s willing and able to do something about it.”
Cash felt his temper rise at what was practically an accusation. “The old man’s been bad-mouthing me again?”
“Let’s not go there,” Reine interjected, placing a hand on his arm.
He couldn’t resist her pleading expression. He could lose himself in her beautiful blue eyes—not to mention the rest of her. Trying to ignore the effect of her touch., he took a quick sip of coffee and told himself to simmer down.
“Who else has it in for Uncle Jasper?”
The foreman slowly shook his head.
“You haven’t heard any threats?” she asked. “Or witnessed any arguments?”
The grizzled head suddenly stilled and a thoughtful expression crossed his features. He started to say something, then backed down, mumbling, “Naw, nothing.”
“Let us decide that,” Cash said.
“Didn’t have to do with the ranch, as I can tell.”
It was Reine’s turn. “What didn’t?”
Tobiah shifted on the log. “This was a coupla weeks ago in Santa Fe. Mr. Matlock and me, we went our separate ways and agreed to meet back at the truck. He got there first, only he weren’t alone.”
“He was with a woman?” Cash guessed. Why else would the man seem so reluctant to say anything?
“Was he?” Reine asked.
Tobiah sighed. “A real looker. Early fifties, maybe. Dark hair with red fire in it.”
“So they were arguing?”
When Tobiah did nothing more than nod, Cash wished he could pull the story out of the man.
“What were they arguing about?” Reine asked.
She was sounding as exasperated as he was beginning to feel.
“Couldn’t hear, but...” The foreman hesitated again as if reluctant to go into it. He finally said, “I seen her slap him and run off into a nearby store.”
“And you didn’t ask him about it?”
“No, ma’am. He muttered something about Selena having foolish notions about life for a woman her age and then changed the subject.”
“‘Selena,”’ Reine echoed thoughtfully. “Did Uncle Jasper mention her last name?”
“Nope.”
Cash went back a few exchanges. “The store—which one was it?”
“Couldn’t tell you exactly,” Tobiah said with a shrug. “But it’s one of them tourist galleries. Masks and kachinas in the window... and a real fancy set of pottery containers that look like pueblo buildings.”
“Where is this?”
“On San Francisco, down from the plaza a bit.”
He tried to visualize the shop. The Cash Development offices were located within Santa Fe proper, and while h
e spent as little time there as possible—the electronic age made working from his home office just as efficient and far more convenient—he was as familiar with the town as anyone. He was certain he knew the gallery.
“Uncle Jasper didn’t say anything else about this Selena woman? No hint of what they were arguing over?”
“Afraid not.”
And, unfortunately, the foreman didn’t seem to be one to pry, Cash thought, wondering if this was a dead end. A lovers’ quarrel.
Matlock was probably no more faithful to his wife than he’d been to Cash’s mother.
“How about other disputes,” he asked, “having to do with the business?”
“You’d know more about that than me,” Tobiah returned pointedly. “My interest stays right here.”
Reine jumped on that. “What about the spread? Any feuds with neighboring ranchcrs?”
“Only the usual arguments over water rights, Sam Valdez being the loudest mouth of the bunch.”
Before Reine could pump the foreman for more details, Tobiah stood and waved a greeting to an oncoming horseman.
“Any more questions, maybe you’d better ask Mr. Matlock himself.”
The owner of Matlock Ranch rode up to them, raising a cloud of red dust.
Cash’s insides clutched as he stood and stared at the rider. Despite the fact that he’d voluntarily come into forbidden territory, he hadn’t counted on running into the old man—an unpleasant surprise at best.
Matlock dismounted and quickly took in the small gathering. His gaze locked with Cash’s for what seemed like an endless moment. Emotions rode over his features, leaving them in a glower.
Cash suspected he wasn’t going to like what was coming.
Reine moved forward, asking, “Uncle Jasper, did you hear from the kidnappers?”
But the man ignored her, confirming Cash’s worst suspicions when the first thing out of his mouth was, “What’re you doing on my land?”
“Uncle Jasper—”
“Am I talking to you, girl?” His green eyes were cold and flat as he glared at Reine. “You mind your own business like I told you before.”
“And like I said,” she calmly told him, “Gray is my business.”
Cowboy Justice Page 5