Remy grinned. “What, no minion to work on that?”
“Not this. I won’t risk a flub and have the DA breathing down my neck.” A slight rise in her voice triggered a warning. “Later, Detective.”
Left alone waiting for Moreno to return, Remy scanned the area. How did the killer get back here? Earlier, the place had been a madhouse of activity from stock contractors and handlers to stadium employees, rodeo participants, and Roundup promoters. The killer must have brought the body in after things quieted down. Remy yanked out a pad and started scribbling notes.
Cody said most of the rodeo people who could afford it stayed in the hotels and boarded their horses nearby. Those unable to pay would shack up in their trailers or vehicles. Someone had to have seen something.
Studying the building, its exits and entrances, Remy gained a clear view of which doors the killer might have used to gain access and how he escaped. Now the question remained, where did those doors lead?
“LeBeau.”
He pocketed his pad as Moreno approached. “Sir.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I hate this case already. We’re almost thirty-six hours into the first murder, and the killer is jerking us along. I’m going to need more guys on this.”
“No.”
“But Cap — ”
“LeBeau, I said only you and Anderson.”
“With all due respect, sir, we’re only two men. And we’re tired. Might I add, you told me to keep an eye on Ms. Lewis, the woman who found the first body. I can’t be in a hundred places at once.”
Moreno seemed to mull over Remy’s rebuttal. His thumb rapped a steady beat against his thigh. “Fine. I’ll find someone to work with you. Finish up here and head back to the office.” He turned to walk off. “Breakfast is on me.”
Remy grinned. “Sounds good.” He checked his watch. A quarter to six on Saturday morning.
What was Cody doing?
• • •
Curse that side-windin’ Cajun and his forked tongue. Cody fumbled with the coffee filter, and it fluttered to the floor. Curse her blasted useless fingers. She braced her hands on the counter and drew in long slow breaths. Insomnia had kicked in last night, making her walk the floor again.
She couldn’t rid her head of the image of Heather Trisk laid out in the trailer, the memories of her mother’s funeral, and dinner with LeBeau. When he wasn’t flirting with her or the waitress, and for that matter Chantal, he’d peppered her with questions. One in particular socked her like a bull’s horn to the gut. What was her reason for barrel racing? She made her excuses, and they left.
Cody bent, picked up the filter, and crumpled it in her fist. It was going to be a rough day.
With the coffeemaker brewing a potent pot, she wandered into the living room and flopped on the sofa. Draping her arm over her eyes, she laid there.
Why did Remy LeBeau drive her nuts? He was a complete stranger. She’d met him for the first time four days ago. Exactly. It wasn’t grounds to worry about the man, much less let him consume her thoughts. She groaned. She should have never agreed to dinner with him. What a stupid move.
The coffeemaker beeped. Rolling off the sofa onto her feet, she trudged into the kitchen and poured a cup, then blew on the steaming black liquid.
“Don’t fail me now.”
Her taste buds tingled in anticipation of that first taste. Oh, blessed Arbuckles coffee. She pressed the rim of the mug to her lips and sipped. Starbucks had nothing on the authentic coffee of the Old West.
Finished with her first cup, Cody felt the first caffeine jitters as it worked through her system. She glanced at the clock. Ten-thirty. The Red Moon foreman would’ve completed the chores by now and was probably saddling some of Dad’s horses for a morning workout. It’d been a while since she sat a cutter. And nothing brought her a more memorable thrill than an exhilarating ride on the back of a horse.
She filled up a travel mug with the rest of the brew, ran upstairs, and threw on a faded pair of jeans, a brown long-sleeved shirt, and a white down vest. She wrapped her hair up in a messy ponytail, then raced downstairs. Mug in hand, she slid into her boots and headed out the door. A biting wind stung her cheeks. She shivered and made fast tracks across the yard to the indoor arena.
A blast of warm air and bawling calves greeted her when she entered the arena. Three men on horseback circled the inside, conditioning their mounts for a practice session. At the far end of the ring, tucked away in the holding pens, calves milled about. They’d soon be released for practice.
Cody propped an elbow on the top fence rail and took a swig of her coffee. A big bay with a long blaze drew her attention. The stallion’s fluid movements concealed his age as he loped a large circle around the cowboy holding his lunge line.
“Hey, Lewis!”
Distracted from the stallion, Cody looked up at the waving cowboy at the far end of the ring.
“Wanna ride? We could use some of your expertise.”
She grinned. “Sure.” She swung up and over the fence. “Watch and learn, boys.”
• • •
When no one answered the door at the house, Remy had followed the sound of men cheering. The ruckus drew him to a large barn. Removing his sunglasses as he entered the arena, he pocketed them in his coat, and scanned the facility. It smelled of horses, cattle, and manure. Where it concerned Cody Lewis, there wasn’t a place that didn’t carry the odors.
And speaking of the cowgirl, he spotted her at the far end of the ring on a tall, red-colored horse. There were no barrels in sight, and a herd of cattle and cowboys crowded the fence behind her. From this distance, Remy couldn’t mistake the thrill on Cody’s face. Whatever she was doing, she loved it.
Sitting straight and seemingly loose in the saddle, with one hand resting on her thigh and the other holding a pair of long reins, Cody and her horse cut out a black calf from the herd. Once she had the calf in place, she grabbed the saddle horn and dropped the reins to the horse’s neck and the animal hunkered down. Spooked, the calf flipped his tail in the air and tried to run around the horse.
It was like watching a point guard try to make a break around his defender to get to the basket. Every now and then, the men on horseback cheered.
Remy crossed his arms on the top rung of the rail and watched the pair. The calf lunged for a huge gap between Cody’s horse and another horse to her left. Cody’s mount stopped hard, digging its hooves deep into the dirt. Its front legs gave the impression it would go down, while its hind end remained low to the ground and squared. The horse threw itself after the calf and blocked its escape. Cody clung to the horse like an angry mudbug to a finger.
Above the whistles and whoops, someone yelled, “Time.” She lifted the reins from the horse’s neck, and it stilled.
A big smile lit up Cody’s face. She pointed at a man in the far corner. “Beat that, Kade!”
Remy let out a quiet whistle. And he’d thought her abilities as a barrel racer were impressive.
The ruckus banter between Cody and the men continued. Stray tendrils of her hair curled about her face, and she kept brushing them back. An older cowboy said something to her, then leaned back with a grin. She scowled at the man and shoved on his arm, while the other men laughed. She appeared more at ease than she had last night in the restaurant. Apparently this woman didn’t yearn for the finer things in life. She was right at home in the muck and grime.
Marie would have lost her mind.
One of the men noticed Remy and pointed him out. Cody’s head snapped his way, and the good-natured look on her face was replaced by an irritated scowl. She spoke to the men, then urged her horse forward.
Remy backed away from the fence as Cody rode the beast alongside the fence.
“Whoa,” she said in a low voice and the horse stop
ped. She braced a hand on her thigh and stared at Remy. “What are you doin’ here?”
He’d asked himself the same question. He had a fresh body and a mountain of paperwork to do, but here he stood. “Was in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by.”
Her eyes narrowed and she gave him a wary smile. “Good thing I’m off the ground. The crap is startin’ to fill up around here.”
And there it was. When she opened her tart mouth, he was reminded of all the reasons why he shouldn’t be attracted to her. Remy nodded to the group of men and the cattle they had herded into an alleyway. “What do you call this?”
She glanced over her shoulder, and then directed her steely green eyes on him. “Cutting.”
He frowned. “What’s that?”
“You mean to tell me you’ve never heard of this either?”
“Nope.”
Crossing her arms on the saddle horn, she leaned forward. “It’s a ranch term, meaning you cut a cow from the herd to doctor it or brand it. We still do it when we work cattle, but in competition you’re timed and given points for how your horse works. My dad trains and shows across the country.”
And she obviously loved it.
Her horse snorted and shook his head. Remy eyed the animal. Even without proper knowledge, he could tell this was a good horse.
Cody patted the animal’s thick neck. “Wanna get on?”
“No, thanks. I’ve still got work to do today.”
Her hand stilled and she looked at him. “Don’t you ever take a day off?”
“Not when I have two murders to investigate.”
The color drained from her face, and she rocked back in the saddle, nearly unseating herself. “Two?”
Oh man, she wasn’t supposed to know. What voodoo magic did this woman have over him?
“What do you mean two? I thought … Who is it?”
Remy held up his hands. “Hold it right there, cowgirl. I can’t tell you anymore than that.”
Cody blinked rapidly, working her jaw as if to say more. She swung down from the horse and marched around to square off with Remy. “Do you know who she is?”
“Who said it was a female?”
“Oh, come off it, LeBeau. If you’re on the case, then it’s another woman who looks like Heather Trisk. And for that matter, like me.”
In her terror, she’d picked up on the similarities. He’d crossed the line. Forget what Moreno wanted, Remy had to distance himself from this woman and quickly. More than a serial killer would threaten Cody Lewis. “I can’t divulge information at this point. Read it in the papers.” He turned and started to walk away.
“I might know her.”
He skidded to a halt and then looked back at her. “You didn’t know the other woman.”
“Professional rodeo is a big world, but we’re a small family. Heather Trisk might have been new, that’s why I didn’t know her.”
Facing her, Remy crossed his arms and took in the sight of Cody. The fence railing blocked some of his view, but the white-washed jeans, shirt, and vest hugged her trim figure. His mouth dried out as his mind explored places best left unexplored. If she knew what he was thinking, she’d probably punch him. Clearing his throat, he coughed. “How are you so sure you could ID this other woman?”
She shrugged. “Would you rather wait for who knows how long for someone to come forward? Or take the chance I might know her?”
Logical, but after her reaction to finding Heather Trisk, what made her so sure she could handle seeing another brutal murder? One which, in his opinion, was worse than the Trisk murder. “I’m not so sure it’s a good idea.”
“Because I might turn into a hysterical woman on you?”
Merci! The woman had an uncanny ability to read his mind.
One of her eyebrows rose and she stared at him, as if challenging him.
“For someone who wanted no part of this investigation last night, you’re sure jumping at it now.”
She gave him a coy smile. “Pay back.”
“For what?”
“I might tell you.” She about-faced and walked to the other side of the horse, peeking under his neck at Remy. “And I might not.”
Something was up. This wasn’t the same woman he had dinner with. The Cody Lewis of last night was more reserved, on edge. Today, she acted like she was doped up on sugar and full of herself. His eyes narrowed. Was she addicted?
Swinging back into the saddle, she stood up in the stirrups, making the leather creak. “Goin’ to let me help you out or not?”
Oh, she was a tart little thing. Maybe getting a good kick of reality would bring back that tame woman from before. “Fine. Meet me at the department at three-thirty. And bring your father with you.”
“Why do I have to bring my father?”
He started for the door. “Because I don’t have time to let you cry on my shoulder.”
Chapter Eight
The lingering odor of a commercial disinfectant tickled Cody’s nose. She rubbed her palm furiously against her nose to stave off the sneeze.
Cry on his shoulder! As if she’d allow herself to shed even one tear in front of him. Whatever possessed her to think she could be attracted to that cold-hearted swamp rat?
Her gaze traveled around the interrogation room. The blank white walls and bland gray carpet made her wish she’d stayed out in the hall. At least out there she wouldn’t think about all the murderers who sat in here getting questioned.
It was stupid to look at another murder victim. But she hadn’t lied. This time she might know the poor woman.
Her stomach quivered and rolled. She shouldn’t have come here before she raced. One look at the murdered woman’s face — only one — and the remnants of lunch would take a swim in something other than her stomach.
Her knees bounced. She hoped Remy hurried up with those photos. The faster she got through this, the faster she’d recover from the effects. She had to ride in three hours.
Dad’s hand on her jittery knee curbed the agitation. “Relax. We’ll be out of here in no time.”
Cody grimaced. “Yeah, right.” Not after the way she snapped at LeBeau this morning.
The lack of sleep and the large dose of caffeine on an empty stomach had been a nasty combination. Warning bells in her head told her to back off when she seemed to hit a nerve with LeBeau, but her temper had flared. Once released, there was no coming back.
She glanced at Dad. He was going to meet LeBeau face to face. The urge to groan and bury her face in her hands crashed over her. When she spiraled out of control after Momma’s death, Cody had been dating a roper who rode the college circuit with her. Their relationship crossed so many lines, and she wasn’t sure she’d make it back. Dad finally intervened and threw her boyfriend out of her life, threatening to shoot him on the spot if he dared to see her again.
No guy, except JC, got within a mile of her afterward.
That same narrowed-eyed, rigid jaw look was on Dad’s face now, like it had been the night he shoved a thirty-aught-six into her ex’s chest. LeBeau might be a cop, but he was no match for her overprotective father.
The door creaked and she lifted her head, meeting Remy’s solemn gaze. He gave her a curt nod, and then looked at Dad. “Detective LeBeau.” He offered his hand.
Dad stood. Her gaze darted between the two men, and Cody shivered. Did they turn the temperature down in here? After staring at LeBeau a moment, more than likely taking his measure, Dad took LeBeau’s hand. Had he passed?
“Logan Lewis.”
“Good to meet you, sir.”
They shook, and Dad returned to his seat. Air filled her lungs. She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath.
Remy repositioned a chair in front of her and sat, legs spread wide, arms resting on his
knees. He held a manila folder; she could see the white edge of photos peeking out. “Are you ready?” His accent sounded thicker than before.
Cody swallowed. She’d never be ready to see a violent death. She took a deep breath and released it. Unable to speak, she gave him a slow nod.
Sitting back, he opened the folder, extracting the top photo. She kept her eyes locked on his face, until he turned the picture to her, and then glanced down. Glassy green eyes and a familiar pale face glared back at Cody.
Clare.
It was only a headshot, but she didn’t need to see the stab wounds on the woman’s body to know what they looked like.
The chill permeating the room laced Cody’s bones and her throat tightened. Closing her eyes, she dropped her face into her hands. No-no-no-no-no, this couldn’t be happening. “Oh God.”
“Do you know her?” Remy asked.
“Yes.”
“Her name is Clarisa Jacobs,” Dad said. “She’s the daughter of a stock contractor. She da — ”
Cody clutched his arm. “Stop.”
Deep lines plowed across his forehead as he looked at her. If he said it, then it would make it so. No, she couldn’t let him be the whistle-blower. She shook her head, hoping to get her message across.
“Cody, what was he going to tell me?” Remy asked.
She snapped her attention in his direction. “Nothing that matters.”
“Cody,” both men said as one.
She stood, shoulders squared and back erect. “I have every right to keep my peace.”
Remy rose from his chair and tapped the folder against her chest. “Not if it hinders my investigation.”
Heat surged through her at his audacity. She ground her molars. She clenched her fist instead of swatting the folder away.
“You asked to come here, and against my better judgment I let you.” Remy crossed his arms and glared. “If you know something and don’t tell me, I can arrest you for obstruction of justice.”
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