Isabelle locked her eyes on me. “I think it might be time for the police to take over. Lindy made a valiant effort,” she stressed the word with unnecessary sarcasm, “but Ryder oversold her abilities a bit.”
I could feel tension and pressure in my chest. She wanted me gone, but for what purpose? Her vision was clouded by her lifelong friendship with Tumbleweed.
Detective Dayton spoke before I had a chance. “Actually Belle, I think it would be prudent to leave Lindy in place. She’s been incredibly valuable. She’s on the inside. If the chief knows that we have an investigator working undercover, he’ll be willing to give me a little more time.” He glanced toward me. “If you don’t mind working with us, I think we could figure this out.”
Gloating would get me nowhere with Ryder’s mother, so I squelched the rising pride in my chest. “I think it’s a great idea.”
“Where do we go from here?” Dayton asked me.
“I think we need to look at timelines, figure out who had opportunity, instead of chasing the motive,” I said.
Dayton was confused. “You’re talking like you know it’s a member of the staff here, am I missing something?”
Isabelle hadn’t told him about the bloody knife in the hay barn. The knowledge made me a little too happy. “I think your girlfriend can explain that one to you.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “I need to get back before it looks suspicious.”
“I’ll walk you,” Tate offered.
As he fell into stride beside me, Dayton and Isabelle’s argument began. Tate waited until we were clear of the cabin, but not so far that we had joined the rest of the staff, before he said, “I don’t care that it was deer blood. Tumbleweed is guilty.”
I’d suspected as much, but it was good to hear him say it and I was willing to let him in on the rest of my information. “There’s a map under his bed that marks every attack that has happened.” Tate stopped walking and I turned to face him. “He has a book between his mattresses that goes into explicit detail over every religion, cult and culture that has used blood for rituals.”
“You’re saying I have some demon worshipper on the back forty of my ranch?”
“I’m not positive he’s our guy, but I know he’s involved somehow,” I said as we resumed walking. “With Isabelle protecting him the way she does, I don’t know how to get to him.”
“For now, keep her happy, and start looking at other members of the staff. You’re in with Dixie. Get her to talk. She knows everything about everyone.”
He pulled open the door to the lodge and I braced myself for a life as Cassidy while the worries of Lindy weighed on my mind. It was hard to smile, hard to act as though I was carefree and excited about life. I surveyed the room, there were a few guests already set at tables and Two-Bit and Phoenix sat at the bar with drinks in their hands. Music streamed from the jukebox and the room was alive with excitement. Still, apprehension tickled over my skin as I felt eyes watching me. Tate broke away and left me in the entry. I stayed still as a deer in a meadow, ready to spring.
My gaze filtered across the room, taking time to scan each face, and look to every window and door. At the back of the room, I saw him. It was the first time I’d seen him since the night I’d fought him off. The scars on the left side of Tumbleweed’s face were more pronounced in the light of the room, like melted wax that had dripped for years. His hands bore the same rough wounds. How long had he gone unchecked? Our eyes remained locked across the lodge, a predator to his prey, but I was far more formidable than he’d ever thought. Because of that, I could see him working on a plan that would eliminate me once and for all.
“Cass!” Tate called from the swinging kitchen doors. “Cass, get over here.”
In the time it took me to look to Tate and then back to my attacker, Tumbleweed was gone. The thought unnerved me and left me wondering when he would appear again. Alexis’ words rang in my mind as I walked to Tate, Tumbleweed is a tracker. Blood is what he does.
“What do you need?” I asked Tate with far too much edge in my voice.
“Cookie is out sick. Can you run the grill out back?”
I wanted to ask if it was a defendable position, but I knew he wouldn’t understand. His request was genuine and I was willing to oblige. Besides, it meant I didn’t have to talk to anyone and that was always a perk in my book.
The grill wasn’t much more than a long metal rectangle with a rudimentary grill welded to the top. It was obviously homemade and used to feed the masses. Tate showed me a couple things, how to check the steaks, how to rotate the meat over the coals, things I knew, but I was willing to humor him. When he left I took a deep breath and let the mundane activity command my focus.
As the meat sizzled and smoked in front of me, and I could hear the first strains of Dallas and Wiley Fox on their guitars, I let my inner skeptic free. At times when my cases become muddled or confusing, it helped to play devil’s advocate with myself.
The suspicion of Tumbleweed clouded my focus and I knew that. If Isabelle could explain away the evidence, then it wasn’t beyond a reasonable doubt. If that were true, then there had to be other suspects. I thought of the rest of the staff, Dixie was a sweetheart, but it could be an act. Alexis appeared to be violent, and I wasn’t ready to call her innocent yet. Wiley Fox certainly had the strength to overpower someone, while Dallas would likely need the aid of the stunner because of his leaner build. Two-Bit was small and squirrely, but I was positive that even with the stunner, he lacked the ability to drag a victim without help. The last victim had to have been at least a foot taller than he was. Phoenix was quiet and reserved. I often felt him watching me. He said little when we worked together. Was it because he suspected my cover?
Flames shot up as I flipped a steak over. The heat from the grill aggravated my system. I could feel my body temperature rising, and along with it, my discomfort. That summer in California was impossible to forget and the barbeque brought it to mind that much faster. I backed away from the flame and let the evening air cool me. No symptom scared me as badly as my reaction to heat. For me it was an unbearable aspect of my disease.
One of the kitchen staff stepped out and loaded steaks onto a tray. It occurred to me that there were others who could be suspects. The kitchen staff, the cleaning crew, all of them had access to the barn where the knife had been stashed, and the trails that led away from the ranch. As I was about to drown in my frustration, I reminded myself that I would know more when I was able to look at the past schedules to assess opportunity for each suspect.
I returned to the grill and spaced a new set of steaks across the charred metal. It all felt a little hopeless. Over two weeks in, and I had nothing concrete. I’d planned on three weeks at the most, but it was becoming more doubtful by the day. Then again, what was I rushing back to? Even Kip’s information about Jackie stood on tenuous ground.
Footsteps in the gravel brought my attention around, but only Dallas poked his head around the corner, soft grin spreading as he found me.
“They stuck you back here now? Who’d you tick off?”
“Apparently I’m a lousy waitress.”
“I wasn’t sure you were coming,” Dallas said, hands stuffed in his pockets. “I didn’t know how long the dragon was going to keep you.”
I had to stifle my giggle at his nickname for Isabelle. “The usual lecture on what a disappointment I am before I was released on my own recognizance. I thought I heard you playing.”
“We’re on a break.” Dallas moved a little closer, as if watching the meat cook, but I was pretty sure it was more than that. “Are you a good cook?”
“When I choose to do it, sure.”
“You don’t cook much at home, then?”
I turned a steak to keep my hands busy. “I live alone. It seems like an awful lot of dishes to do for one person.” I sent a quick glance his way. “Why? Is that a deal breaker?”
“No, not all.” He ducked his head and disappeared behind his hat for a moment. �
�I was thinking it would be nice to take you on one of my overnights, but you have to be able to cook.”
“You’re assuming my Uncle Tate will let me go. He doesn’t have a lot of faith in me.” The truth was there was no way I could go, the murders were local to the ranch, and time away meant my focus would be split.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I got to thinking last night that it would be nice to spend some time with you.” Giddy butterflies erupted in my chest as his light touch grazed my braid. “It’s pretty out there at night. We could take the lower trail by the river, and camp downstream. You can hear the water rushing. More stars than you can count, and guests go to bed pretty early. You and I could stay up and talk some more, like we did the other day.”
A surge of bravery coursed through my veins as I remembered my cover. “Are you ever going to ask me out, Dallas,” I asked, “or are we going to spend the entire summer talking?”
His smile betrayed his white teeth for a moment, but he looked away before I could see.
“I’ve thought about it,” he admitted.
I turned the burning steaks and pushed the issue a little further. “Then why haven’t you?”
“Sometimes I see you, when you think no one is watching. You’re heartbroken.” Dallas looked down to regain his confidence before he met my gaze again. “I think you’re getting over someone, and I don’t want to be your rebound guy. I want to be the guy you meet after that. I wanna be the guy who means something.”
I could see the honesty in his eyes. It took some courage for him to admit it, but he meant it. He’d thought about us, but who was I kidding? I had too.
A sudden flare up from the grill broke the spell between us. Wiley stuck his head out and called Dallas back from his break. A kitchen worker shoved me aside to save the burning beef.
Wiley’s terse whisper caught my ears as he pushed Dallas through the open door to play their next set. “I don’t know why you bother with Cassidy. You’re not good enough for a girl like her.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Wiley Fox’s words stuck in my mind and rolled around for the remainder of the night. I finished up the steaks, traded my tongs for an apron, and took drink orders while the cowboys sang their familiar play list. I couldn’t place the feeling in my chest.
Anger?
Frustration?
Maybe it was an innate need to stand up for the underdog. The tone of Wiley’s words irked me, condescending, as if he owned Dallas. Because of those words, the blue-eyed cowboy kept to himself, and locked his sight on the floor through the entire set.
Around ten, the lodge had cleared out to staff and a couple guests who’d had a bit too much to drink. Phoenix looped one guest’s arm over his shoulder so that he could half drag, half carry him back to his cabin. I kept tabs on Dallas. I didn’t like how our conversation had ended and I wanted to fix it, though I was unsure how.
As he snapped the locks on his guitar case, and mumbled ‘goodnight’ to Wiley, I dropped my tray on a table and scurried after him.
“Dallas, wait up.”
He paused, but only turned after a long hesitation. “What do you need, Cass?”
I started to speak, but Wiley pressed between us to interrupt me. “Give it a rest, would you, Cassidy? I mean, I know you’re,” he glanced over my outfit and then back to my face, “you and all, but it’s not fair to trail him along like this. Nothing is ever going to happen. Stop getting his hopes up.”
There were moments when I swore I could feel Cassidy’s personality take over. A deep desire to argue the point welled inside me. A need to wipe that confident smirk from his face took control of my body. I took three broad steps toward Dallas. The collar of his shirt slipped into my grasp. I inhaled some courage, and I pressed my lips against his. The cowboy’s entire body went rigid for a split second, but as we exhaled together, he melted. I could hear Alexis’ cat calls and a couple of excited cheers from the drunk guests behind us.
With his hands full of gear, Dallas struggled to pull me close and I felt the case of his guitar bang against my back before it clattered to the ground and his hand pressed over my lower back. It wasn’t flying, but there was chemistry so tangible I felt as though I could see it if I opened my eyes.
Before I could lose myself in the emotions, I pulled back and broke the kiss. Dallas’ eyes remained closed for a second before they opened, as if he was unprepared to leave the moment. His hand fell away and I turned to Wiley, confident that my point had been made.
“Did that look like nothing?” He only gaped at me in response. “It’s a lot more than you’ll ever get, I can promise you that.”
I managed to escape inside the swinging doors of the kitchen before I felt like I might collapse from the shaking in my legs. I gripped the counter and ignored the kitchen staff that sent me curious looks. I wasn’t impulsive; I was calculated and thought out, at least when it came to social interactions. I couldn’t believe I had found the nerve to…
On tiptoe, I peeked over the swinging doors into the lodge. Wiley and Dallas left, and I was grateful because I couldn’t face either of them yet. My embarrassment was too uncharacteristic for Cassidy. I gripped the sink and thought about the brief moment that Dallas had held me.
No, he wasn’t Ryder, not in the slightest, but he wasn’t a rebound either.
♦ ♦ ♦
I knew my cheeks glowed red all the way through breakfast the next morning. As Tate did his usual rundown of the daily events, occasionally I caught Dallas’ eyes across the table and my heart hammered inside my chest. I stayed long enough to hear my assignment before I dashed from the room. Once outside, I let the cool morning air wash over my hot cheeks. The feeling in the pit of my stomach was the exact reason why I’d always avoided impulsive decisions like the one I’d made. Regret made me seasick. The screen door slammed behind me and I knew it was Dallas before he ever called out my name.
“Cass, wait up!”
I paused, but I didn’t turn around. I was losing this game. I’d tipped my hand too soon and I was at the disadvantage. I stared at my feet once he fell into step beside me.
“I waited for you last night,” he said as he caught me.
“Why?” I had nothing better to say and I kicked myself for it.
“I thought we should talk about,” he cleared his throat uncomfortably, “about that kiss.”
I spent most of my days trying to emulate what Cassidy might do in a situation. I was at a loss for the first time and kept walking.
Frustrated, Dallas gripped my arm by the elbow and pulled me to the nearby corral. “Look, Cass, I like you. I mean, I don’t know you that well, but what I know, I really like.”
I wanted to chew on the inside of my lip, but that was something Lindy did, so I let my fingers twirl up into my hair like Cassidy would.
“Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming on?”
There was a slight nod from the cowboy before he said, “But, I work for your family, and this could get sticky real fast if things go sour. I can’t lose this job. I need the money.” He looked away and then back again, shame staining his features. “My mom needs the help. I save what I can, but—” he paused before he finished the thought, “I can’t lose this job.”
My fake family was the issue. The irony was almost too much. If I told him the truth he would be angry that I’d lied. If I lied, then he was unwilling to give me a chance.
“I understand,” I said after a couple seconds of awkward silence.
Dallas let his fingers slip into the spaces between mine and then pull free as if he knew it was wrong to begin with.
“You’re going through recovery as well. I’m not sure I’m what you need right now.”
Pity in any form had always upset me. I pulled back and put distance between us.
“You know it’s funny because Wiley thought I was out of your league. Clearly it’s the other way around.”
He caught me by the waist as I tried to push past him. “It’s not like that
. I want to be friends. I really like talking with you.” The air between us thickened as his gaze swept over my face. “I wanna see where this goes, but no rush. I’m not saying I don’t want you, but I don’t want it to blow up in our faces.”
The feeling of his arm wrapped across my waist quelled my frustration. I considered his proposition. “You’re saying take it slow?”
His thumb rubbed over my ribcage where he held me in place. “That’s my plan. We’ll see how long I hold out.” Traces of the easy going smile I’d seen many times before peeked through. “That was an amazing kiss, and it’s hard not to wanna...” He couldn’t finish the thought.
Not ready to have him release me from his grasp, I asked, “Where are you headed today?”
He wasn’t ready to let me go, and his signals became more mixed by the second. “I have an overnight. It’s Wiley and me, with Alexis. I wish it was you.”
It was probably for the best that it wasn’t. Dallas pulled my focus. Maybe it was my cover leaking into my personality, or maybe it was the need to find someone now that Ryder had, but the more time I spent with him, the harder it was to remember I had a job to do. I felt the pressure of his fingers slip from my side, one at a time.
“I better get to work,” I said out of duty.
“I’ll see you when I get back?”
“I’ll be here,” I said as I walked away.
I spent the morning wrestling a flat tire on the wheelbarrow, and trying not to think about Dallas at all.
I lost to both.
Chapter 16
Tate dropped off the schedules at my cabin late that night. He noted my mattress on the floor, but said nothing about it. Dixie took one look at my paperwork and climbed into bed, likely fearing that Tate had given me extra work that she could get roped into.
The schedule was poorly tracked, names written in pencil, and then scribbled out with a new name written over it. I made a table with the staff’s names in the margin, and the dates of the deaths across the top. If a staff member had opportunity, I colored the space green, if they were gone on an overnight, I colored it in red. It took well over an hour and my eyes burned with exhaustion. I was relatively happy with my progress by the end.
Saddles & Sabotage Page 15