Captive of the Cattle Baron (Selkirk Family Ranch Book 1)

by Irene Vartanoff

  “He was my TV brother for so long I still think of him as a brother.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see jurors nodding.

  “Lead us through the events of the night of the crime.”

  Addie described the man suddenly appearing in her house, claiming he loved Caz.

  The D.A. objected, “This wasn’t covered in direct examination of this witness, your honor.”

  The judge sourly responded, “You could have asked these questions, but you wasted the court’s time with your repeated questions about the witness’s relationship with the defendant. Overruled.”

  Marty continued. “When you saw the intruder, who did you think he was?”

  “A star stalker,” she said.

  Muttering broke out in the courtroom. The judge banged his gavel. “Order.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Caz said, ‘I told you not to keep following me everywhere’.”

  “How can you remember his exact words?” Marty asked.

  “I learned how to memorize dialogue when I was a child actor.” Her statement caused a murmur in the courtroom.

  “What happened next?”

  “The intruder pulled out a gun.” She paused, remembering the horrible scene.

  The lawyer prompted her again. “And then?”

  “He waved the gun around. Then he said, ‘I’ll show you how much I care’.” She swallowed.

  “Go on, please.”

  “I’m sorry. This is difficult. The intruder pointed the gun at me, and then at himself. Then he shot himself.” She covered her face with her hands.

  “I’m sorry this is upsetting, but the court needs to hear the rest. What happened next?”

  Addie sat up and wiped her eyes carefully. “Blood splattered everywhere. He fell to the carpet. I screamed. Caz yelled. We both rushed to the man to see if he was still alive.”

  She steadied herself as she told the rest. “I called 911. Caz tore off his shirt and tried to stop the bleeding. He began compressions to make sure the man kept breathing. The stalker didn’t say anything.”

  “Objection. Witness is characterizing a wounded man as a stalker without evidence.” The D.A. was still trying.

  Addie looked at the judge for his decision.

  “I’ll sustain that. Continue to call him the intruder.”

  “Yes, your honor. The intruder was silent,” Addie said.

  Marty continued. “Did you speak to him or did he speak to you?”

  “After he shot himself, the intruder did not speak at all. Even after the EMTs arrived and worked to revive him. Even when they carried him out on a stretcher.”

  Marty turned to the judge.

  “Your honor, I end my cross-examination.”

  The D.A. stood up. “I call as my next witness, Caz Cassidy.”

  Addie started to leave the witness box.

  “Hold on a minute.” The judge said. “The state and counsel will approach the bench.” He instructed the bailiff to turn off the microphones.

  They walked to stand in front of him. Addie stayed where she was.

  “State, do you have forensic evidence indicating that the defendant used a gun that night?”

  “No, your honor.”

  “Do you have any witness who claims that Leslie Tone did not shoot himself?”

  “No, your honor.”

  “Do you expect the defendant to incriminate himself and admit to the shooting?”

  “No, your honor.”

  “Counsel, what about you?”

  “We’ve already heard the eyewitness testimony. Leslie Tone shot himself.”

  “Then I don’t see any point in wasting any more of the court’s time. Stand down.”

  The D.A. and defense attorney returned to their places. Before Addie could make a move, the judge signaled to reopen his microphone.

  “The court finds that no crime of assault with a deadly weapon was committed, and recommends that the District Attorney charge Leslie Tone with breaking and entering and criminal trespass. This case is dismissed. The defendant is released without prejudice.” The judge banged his gavel.

  Pandemonium broke out in the courtroom.

  Chapter 13

  “Wow. That was a dramatic turn of events,” Tess said. She and Miss Betty watched the crowds surge around the courtroom as the television announcer made excited comments about the case. Baron sat at the kitchen table, also watching.

  “Too bad the judge insisted on turning off the microphones when he consulted with the lawyers,” Tess said.

  “Addie was right there. She must have heard what they said.”

  “Her testimony ended the trial before it began.”

  “No wonder she was so firm about needin’ to get back to Jackson Hole,” Miss Betty said.

  “Without her, they would have put Caz Cassidy on the stand,” Tess said.

  “That nasty D.A. wanted to do it, too. You can see how red-faced he is. Humiliated,” Miss Betty said, gesturing at the screen.

  “What was the point of this trial?” Tess asked.

  “Grandstanding,” Baron said. “The D.A. wants to make a name for himself.”

  “So he tries to make up somethin’ dirty between Addie and her friend. Shame on that District Attorney,” Miss Betty said.

  “Even if Addie was having a raging affair with Caz Cassidy, it’s not a crime,” Tess said.

  Baron winced. “She said he was only her friend.”

  Miss Betty looked at him with pity. “Go on believin’ that, boy, if it makes you feel better.”

  “She wouldn’t lie under oath,” he said.

  “The girl left a lot out,” Miss Betty said. “They been friends a long time. Coulda done some experimentin’ even back when they was on TV together.”

  “Why Miss Betty, I’m surprised at you. I thought you believed Adrienne Jelleff walked on water.” Tess put her arm around the older woman, and filched a bite of the chicken salad she was making. Miss Betty swatted her hand away from the bowl.

  “Nope. She’s human. I’m just sayin’ she might have scratched an itch with that handsome boy a time or two in the past.”

  “I know I would.” Tess laughed. “Caz Cassidy is gorgeous.”

  “You okay with that, boss?” Miss Betty asked. “Or are you still thinkin’ that Addie is some kind of—?”

  “Don’t say it,” he said. “Leave that sort of talk to the sleazy television commentators.”

  “That dirty-minded D.A. His mama should’ve washed his mouth out with soap a few times,” Miss Betty said. “Would’ve done him some good.”

  Baron said, “Addie should have done that to me when I accused her of being a drug addict.”

  “She told you enough times she wasn’t,” Miss Betty said, pointing her wooden spoon at Baron.

  “I didn’t listen. Instead, I took it upon myself to be both judge and jury,” he said.

  “I hope you learned your lesson now, boy. That’s no way to treat a woman.”

  “No,” he agreed.

  “Well, now the trial’s over, I guess you’ll be headin’ to Jackson Hole to get on with your courtin’.”

  “What?”

  “You aren’t going to give up with Addie, are you?” Tess asked. “Besides, you owe her an apology.” She smirked at him. “Better wear knee pads because you’ll be doing a lot of crawling.”

  “Brat.”

  Miss Betty cackled. “That you will. Addie’s just the woman to make you spell it all out.” She slanted a sharp look at Baron as she set the bowl on the table.

  “Hie yourself up to town, boy, before some other man decides to woo a talented horse trainer who’s also a fine actress.”

  “You think she was acting today?”

  “There goes your suspicious mind again,” Tess said.

  “’Course she was, boy. She had to save her friend, keep him off the stand.”

  “What secret was she hiding?” he asked.

  “Why don’t you take your dirty suspicio
us mind to Jackson Hole and ask Addie?” Tess said. “If she’ll even talk to you.”

  “You’re lucky she don’t bring a lawsuit against you for keepin’ her here against her will.” Miss Betty said, “Although she’s not that kind.”

  “Yeah, she’s way too good for you.” Tess added, clearly enjoying piling on.

  Baron finished his meal and stood. He grabbed his hat from the wall rack. “I’ve got some thinking to do.”

  The women nodded to each other.

  ***

  In Jackson Hole, back at Caz’s hotel suite, Addie asked Marty when the media circus would end. “I want to go back to my ranch and put it up for sale.”

  “You were impressive on the stand,” Marty said. “Offers of new roles will pour in.”

  “Which I’ll turn down without regret.”

  “Is the D.A. going to prosecute Tone for trespass?” Caz asked, ever anxious.

  “Only if Addie presses charges.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Start up the frenzy all over again? No way. He can walk.”

  “He’ll go back to following me around again,” Caz complained. “I’ll have to get a restraining order against him.”

  Marty nodded. “Already in the works.” The lawyer continued, “We can also threaten him directly by suggesting that Addie will press charges. Unfortunately, nuts like that usually don’t care.”

  Addie said, “You’ll have a head start getting back to L.A., since he’s still in the hospital.”

  “He’ll sell his side of it to the tabloids,” Caz fretted.

  “If you ignore him and you’re not involved in a trial, it won’t matter,” she said.

  “No one will pay him any attention even if we have to go to court,” Marty said. “It happens all the time in L.A. It might not even make the front page. Anyway, who reads newspapers anymore?”

  Caz still didn’t look appeased. Marty said, “Look, I know this isn’t a happy ending. If he’d been a better shot, you’d never have to think about him again.”

  “Talk about callous.” Addie shook her head. She stood. “Okay, guys, I’m done. Time for me to go home.”

  After thanks all around, and an emotion-filled embrace from Caz, she was ready to leave. “I’ll let you know where I move to,” she promised. “Don’t come visit.”

  ***

  In the limo Marty had arranged, having avoided some but not all of the reporters after she left the safety of Caz’s suite, Addie considered her next step. There still were dozens of reporters who wanted a piece of her, and once she was home, they’d be crawling all over her property. She’d have to deal. She couldn’t have stayed cooped up in Caz’s hotel suite a moment longer.

  Had Baron seen her on TV? Had he guessed a little about why she’d had to testify? Or was he happy to be rid of her, and thinking only about running the ranch, or his abandoned geology career?

  Had Tess and Paula gotten in trouble with Baron for flying Addie out? She hoped not. They had saved the day. Would he ever have harmed her? Wasn’t the chemistry mutual, with him feeling it as strongly as she did? He’d admitted to kissing her when he hadn’t meant to. He’d been as physically compelled as she was. That was no excuse for not controlling himself, though, or acting domineering.

  She had to get on with her life, yet she couldn’t completely turn off thoughts about Baron. She wished he was here so they could talk it all out. Hoping he might want to see her again. Hoping it wasn’t completely over.

  The next move was up to him. Meanwhile, she intended to sell her ranch. On her way to her new home, wherever that might be, maybe she’d call him. It could be months from now. Or never. Did she even want to pursue a relationship with a man who had treated her so badly? He hadn’t exactly abused her until the end, but initially he’d forced her to stay at the ranch, and he’d ordered her around repeatedly. He’d constantly tried to get her to make love with him, too, although trying to seduce her wasn’t a crime, exactly.

  Why was she thinking about Baron, when she could see a couple of cars full of tabloid reporters tailing the limo?

  Chapter 14

  A week later, with the help of the local police, Addie finally was reporter-free. She hadn’t seen one all morning. The trial was old news at last, at least on the national level. In Jackson Hole, it would reverberate for years to come. This was a small town except during ski season. She would not be able to avoid the whispers and stares. Even if she hadn’t been at the center of a media frenzy, she’d now become an object of fascination because of her television background. It had only been a matter of time. She’d been living in a dream world about Jackson Hole being the right place to settle.

  She’d made the call to her real estate agent. The ranch was already on the market. The smart thing would be to leave town immediately. She couldn’t quite bring herself to vanish, though. Some part of her hoped to hear from Baron, or Paula, or Miss Betty, or even Tess. Why hadn’t he tried to contact Addie?

  As the number of tabloid reporters bothering her had declined, her thoughts had gone increasingly to Baron. The trial was over. Her need for secrecy was over. Was her relationship with Baron also over?

  ***

  She’d just finished training Jefferson for the morning and had left the corral when a man appeared from the shadows of the stables. He was youngish, dressed in a casual jacket and khakis. Another reporter?

  She did a double-take.

  “Do you know who I am?” he asked.

  “Leslie Tone,” she replied, her mouth suddenly dry.

  “The hospital declared me recovered. I checked myself out.”

  “Uh…that’s nice,” she said, edging toward the corral gate.

  “I wanted to pay you a visit before I left for California.” He moved between her and the corral.

  She slightly switched directions. The tack room had a door that locked.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, grabbing her arm in a powerful grip.

  “Let me go.” She struggled, but he was much stronger than her.

  “I have something to say to you.” His eyes held a crazed expression.

  “Then talk. I’ll listen.”

  He didn’t let go of her arm, but twisted it instead. She gasped in pain.

  “You took Caz from me.”

  “Caz and I are just friends.”

  “You lied. You didn’t tell the D.A. that Caz and I were lovers.” He twisted her arm harder.

  She fought not to show the pain.

  “You made it sound like I’m some kind of star-obsessed Hollywood fan.” He twisted her arm again.

  Involuntary tears dripped from her eyes. “Let go of me. I never did anything to you.”

  “You pretended Caz and I were nothing. You made me sound crazy,” he screamed.

  “Let me go.” She twisted and struggled. Suddenly, his grip loosened, and she fell.

  He drew a gun from inside his jacket and pointed it at her. “You’ll pay for what you did.”

  She tried to stand, but he motioned with the gun to stay put. She raised her hands in a pleading gesture. “You don’t want to do this. You’ll go to prison.”

  “If I can’t have Caz, neither can you.”

  She tried to shift a little, but he kept waving the gun at her.

  Jefferson whinnied and raced toward them, although he was safely confined in his corral. Tone turned his head slightly at the noise. Suddenly, another horse flew at Tone, knocking him down.

  “Whitey!” she cried.

  Baron leapt from the stallion, which he’d ridden bareback. He quickly grabbed the man’s gun and wrestled him face down on the ground. Baron planted his foot in Tone’s back and put the gun to his head. “Easy does it. Don’t give me an excuse to end your miserable life.”

  She scrambled up.

  “Baron. How—?”

  “Call 911.”

  “Right.” She hauled her cell phone from her pocket and made the call. After she’d done it, she couldn’t help giggling.

  Baron shot
her a curious glance.

  “Convenient to have my phone,” she said, arching an eyebrow.

  Despite their tense situation, his face flushed.

  ***

  Hours later, the police had come and gone. Addie had been examined by paramedics and her bruises photographed. Leslie Tone had been handcuffed, read his rights, and put in the back of a cruiser. The police had taken Addie’s testimony and Baron’s. She’d assured them she would press charges. Baron had volunteered to be her witness and had called a local lawyer and retained him to protect Addie’s rights and urge the arraigning judge not to grant bail.

  “I can’t believe I have to go to court again,” she said, as they watched the last police cars leave.

  Baron said, “This time, the D.A. will be on your side.”

  She shook her head. “He hates my guts.”

  Baron frowned. “The Selkirks know a lot of people in this state. I’ll make sure he gets the message to treat you with kid gloves.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “That easily? I should have met you sooner,” she said. “You could have nipped Caz’s troubles in the bud.”

  She had tucked Whitey in a paddock before the police arrived. Now she gave him some much needed patting and cooing in his new home. She soothed Jefferson, too. Baron stood beside her, watching, an odd expression on his face.

  “That was quick thinking, to launch Whitey at him,” Addie said.

  “I had to trust that Tone wouldn’t automatically shoot a horse.”

  “Good diversion.”

  “Whitey’s yours now. A gift. Thought you’d like to have him.”

  “Thanks. He’s a wonderful horse,” she said.

  Conversation dried up. She stopped petting the animal and faced Baron. They stared at each other. He looked tired and sad, yet was as handsome and impressive as ever. There were bandages on his hands.

  “What happened to your hands?” she asked.

  “The cabin burned down that night. I searched for you,” he said, a look of remembered horror in his eyes.

  “Oh, my god!” she cried on an indrawn breath.