by Paula Graves
Instead of following behind, the two men rode ahead with Jacie and Tracie trailing a couple of horse lengths to their rear.
“I was surprised to see you,” Jacie stated. Her sister rarely visited, and her sudden appearance had Jacie wondering if something was wrong.
“I needed some downtime from stress,” Tracie responded, her words clipped. She flicked the strands of her long, straight brown hair that had come loose from her ponytail back behind her ears.
Not to be deterred by Tracie’s cryptic reply, Jacie dug deeper. “What did Bruce have to say about you coming out here without him?” Jacie had to admit to a little envy that Tracie had a boyfriend and she did not. Living on the Big Elk, surrounded by men, she’d have thought she’d have a bit of a love life. But she didn’t.
“I told him I needed time with my only sibling.” Tracie gave her a tight smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Jacie gave an unladylike snort. “As thick as you two have become, I’m surprised he didn’t come with you.”
Tracie glanced ahead to the two men. “I wanted to come alone.”
Tracie might be telling the truth about wanting to come alone, but her answer wasn’t satisfying Jacie. Her twin connection refused to believe it was just a case of missing family. “Everything okay?”
“Sure.” She glanced at Jacie. “So, how many guides are there on the Big Elk Ranch?”
The change in direction of the conversation wasn’t lost on Jacie, but she let it slide. “There are six, plus Richard. Some of them are part-time. Richard, Humberto and I are the full-timers. Why?”
“Just wondered. What kind of process does Richard use to screen his guides?”
Jacie shot a look at her sister. “What do you mean?”
Tracie looked away. “I was just curious if you and the other guides had to go through a background check.”
“I don’t know about any background check. Richard offered me the job during my one and only interview. I can’t vouch for the rest.” Jacie frowned at Tracie. “Thinking about giving up the FBI to come guide on the Big Elk?” She laughed, the sound trailing off.
Her sister shrugged. “Maybe.”
“No way. You love the FBI. You’ve wanted to join since you were eight.”
“Sometimes you get tired of all the games.” Tracie’s lips tightened. “We should catch up with them.” She nudged her horse, ending the conversation and leaving Jacie even more convinced her sister wasn’t telling her everything.
Tracie rode up alongside the men.
Jacie caught up and put on her trail-guide smile as they pulled to a halt at the rim of the canyon. “This is the southern edge of the ranch. The other hunting party is to the west, the Big Elk Ranch house and barn is to the north where we came from, and to the east is the Raging Bull Ranch.” Jacie smiled at the two men who’d paid a hefty sum to go hunting that day on the ranch. Richard, her boss, had taken the guys from Houston west; these two had insisted on going south, stating they preferred a lot of distance between them and the other hunting parties.
Jacie and Tracie knew the trophy bucks preferred the western and northern edge of the spread, but the two men would not be deterred.
Supposedly they’d come to hunt, based on the hardware they’d packed in their scabbards. Each carried a rifle equipped with a high-powered scope and a handgun in case they were surprised by javelinas, the vicious wild hogs running wild in the bush.
Jacie cleared her throat, breaking the silence. “Now that you’ve seen quite a bit of the layout, where would you like to set up? It’s getting late and we won’t have much time to hunt before sunset.”
Jim Smith glanced across at his buddy Mike Jones.
Mr. Jones slipped a GPS device from his pocket and studied the map on it for a long moment. Then he glanced at Jacie. “Where does that canyon lead?”
“Off the Big Elk Ranch into the Big Bend National Park. There’s no hunting allowed in the park. The rangers are pretty strict about it. Not to mention, the border patrol has reported recent drug trafficking activity in this canyon. It’s not safe to go in there.” And Jacie discouraged their clientele from crossing over the boundaries with firearms, even if their clients were licensed to carry firearms as these two were. All the hunters had been briefed on the rules should they stray into the park.
Jacie’s gelding, D’Artagnan, shifted to the left, pawing at the dirt, ready to move on.
“We’ll ride farther into the canyon.” Mr. Jones nudged his horse’s flanks, sending him over the edge of the ridge and down the steep slope toward the canyon.
“Mr. Jones,” Tracie called after him. “The horses are property of the Big Elk Ranch. We aren’t allowed to take them off the ranch without permission from the boss. Given the dangers that could be encountered, I can’t allow you—”
Mr. Smith’s horse brushed past Jacie’s, following Mr. Jones down the slope. Not a word from either gentleman.
Jacie glanced across at her twin. “What the heck?” She pulled the two-way radio from her belt and hit the talk switch. “Richard, do you copy?”
The crackle of static had D’Artagnan dancing in place, his head tossing in the air. He liked being in the lead. The two horses descending the slope in front of him made him anxious. He whinnied, calling out to the other horses as the distance between them increased.
The answering whinny from one of the mares below sent the gelding over the edge.
Tracie’s mare pranced along the ridge above, her nostrils flared, also disturbed by the departure of the other two horses.
“I’ll follow and keep an eye on the two,” Tracie suggested.
“Richard, do you copy?” Jacie called into the radio. Apparently they’d moved out of range of radio reception with the other hunting party. Jacie switched frequencies for the base station at the ranch. “Base, this is Jacie, can you read me?”
Again static.
They were on their own and responsible for the two horses and clients headed down into the canyon.
“You feeling weird about this?” Tracie asked.
“You bet.”
“Why don’t you head back and let Giddings know the clients have left the property? I’ll follow along and make sure they don’t get lost.”
“Not a good idea. You aren’t as familiar with the land as I am.” Jacie glanced down the trail at the two men on Big Elk Ranch horses. “If they want to get themselves lost or shot, I don’t care, but those are Big Elk Ranch horses.”
Tracie nodded. “Ginger and Rocky. And you know they like being part of a group, not off on their own.” She shook her head. “What are those guys thinking?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to abandon the horses.” Jacie sighed. “I guess there’s nothing to it but for us to follow and see if we can talk some sense into those dirtbags.”
“I’m not liking it,” Tracie said. “You should head back and notify Giddings.”
“I don’t feel right abandoning the horses and I sure as hell won’t let you go after them by yourself. We don’t know what kind of kooks these guys are.” Jacie nodded toward the saddlebags they carried on their horses, filled with first aid supplies, emergency rations and a can of mace. “Look, we’re prepared for anything on two or four legs. As long as we keep our heads, we should be okay.”
Each woman carried a rifle in her scabbard, for hunting or warding off dangerous animals. They also carried enough ammo for a decent round of target practice in case they didn’t actually see any game on the trail, which they hadn’t up to this point. Tracie had the added protection of a nine-millimeter Glock she’d carried with her since she left training at Quantico.
“Whatever you say.” Tracie grimaced at her. “My rifle’s loaded and on safe.” She patted the Glock in the holster she’d worn on her hip. “Ready?”
�
�I don’t like it, but let’s follow. Maybe we can talk them into returning with us.” Jacie squeezed her horse’s sides. That’s all it took for D’Artagnan to leap forward and start down the winding trail to the base of the canyon.
“Hey, guys! To make it back to camp for supper, we need to head back in the next hour,” Jacie called out to the men ahead.
Either they didn’t hear her or they chose to ignore her words. The men didn’t even look back, just kept going.
D’Artagnan set his own pace on the slippery slope. Jacie didn’t urge him to go faster. He wanted to catch up, but he knew his own limits on the descent.
The two men riding ahead worked their way downward at a pace a little faster than Jacie’s and Tracie’s mounts. At the rate they were moving, they’d have a substantial lead.
Jacie wasn’t worried so much about catching up. She knew D’Artagnan and Tracie’s gelding, Aramis, were faster than the mare and gelding ahead. But there were many twists and turns in the canyon below. If they didn’t catch them soon, they stood a chance of falling even farther behind. It would take them longer to track the two men, and dusk would settle in. Not to mention, it would get dark sooner at the base of the canyon where sunlight disappeared thirty minutes earlier than up top.
As Jacie neared the bottom of the canyon, the two men disappeared past a large outcropping of rock.
D’Artagnan stepped up the pace, stretching into a gallop, eager to catch the two horses ahead. The pounding of hooves reverberated off the walls of the canyons. Tracie and Aramis kept pace behind her. If the two clients had continued at a sedate rate, they would have caught them by now.
The deeper the women traveled into the canyon, the angrier Jacie became at the men. They’d disregarded her warning about drug traffickers and about entering the national park with firearms, and they’d disrespected the fact that the horses didn’t belong to them. They were Big Elk Ranch property and belonged on the ranch.
At the first junction, the ground was rocky and disturbed in both directions as if the men had started up one route, turned back and taken the other. In order to determine which route they ended up on, Jacie, the better tracker of the twins, had to dismount and follow their tracks up the dead end and back before she realized it was the other corridor they’d taken.
Tracie stood guard at the fork in case the men returned.
Jacie climbed into the saddle muttering, “We really need to perform a more thorough background check on our clients before we let them onto the ranch.”
Her sister smiled. “Not all of them are as disagreeable as these two.”
“Yeah, but not only are they putting themselves and the horses in danger, they’re putting the two of us at risk, as well.” Jacie hesitated. “Come to think of it, maybe we should head back while there’s still enough light to climb the trail out of the canyon.”
Tracie sighed. “I was hoping you’d say that. I don’t want you to get hurt out here.”
“Me? I was more concerned about you. You haven’t been in the saddle much since you joined the FBI.”
“You’re right, of course.” She smiled at Jacie. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Agreed. Let them be stupid. We don’t have to be.” Jacie turned her horse back the way they’d come and had taken the lead when the sharp report of gunfire echoed off the canyon walls.
“What the hell?” Jacie’s horse spun beneath her and it was all she could do to keep her balance.
Aramis reared. Tracie planted her feet hard in the stirrups and leaned forward, holding on until the gelding dropped to all four hooves.
More gunfire ensued, followed by the pounding of hooves, the sound growing louder as it neared them.
Tracie yelled, “Go, Jacie. Get out of the canyon!”
Jacie didn’t hesitate, nor did her horse. She dug her heals into D’Artagnan’s flanks, sending him flying along the trail. She headed back the way they’d come, her horse skimming over the rocky ground, his head stretched forward, nostrils flared.
Before they’d gone a hundred yards, Rocky, the gelding Mr. Jones had been riding, raced past them, eyes wide, sweat lathered on both sides, sporting an empty saddle, no Mr. Jones. Rocky hit the trailhead leading out of the canyon, scrambling up the slope.
Jacie dared to glance over her shoulder.
Mr. Smith emerged from the fork in the canyon trail, yelling at Ginger, kicking her hard. Both leaned forward, racing for their lives.
The distinct sound of revving motors chased the horse and rider through the narrow passage. An ATV roared into the open, followed by another, then another until four ATVs spread out, chasing Mr. Smith, Tracie and Jacie.
Jacie reached the trail climbing out of the canyon first, urging D’Artagnan faster. He stumbled, regained his footing and charged on.
Tracie wasn’t far behind, her horse equally determined to make it out of the canyon alive and ahead of the ATVs.
Mr. Smith brought up the rear on Ginger.
As Jacie reached the top of the slope, she turned back, praying for Tracie to hurry.
Her sister had dropped behind, Aramis slipping in the loose rocks and gravel, distressed by the noise behind him. Just when Jacie thought the two were going to make it, shots rang out from the base of the canyon.
One of the ATVs had stopped, its rider aiming what appeared to be a high-powered rifle with a scope up at the riders on the trail.
Another shot rang out and Mr. Smith jerked in his saddle and fell off backward, sliding down the hill on his back.
His mount screamed and surged up the narrow trail past Tracie and Aramis.
Three of the ATVs raced up the path, bumping and slipping over the loose rocks.
From her vantage point at the top of the ridge, Jacie stood helpless as the horror unfolded.
Aramis reared, dumping Tracie off his back. She hit the ground and rolled, sliding down the slope back toward the base of the canyon.
Jacie yanked her rifle from its scabbard, slid out of her saddle and dropped to a kneeling position, aiming at the man at the base of the canyon.
The man was aiming at her.
Jacie held her breath, lined up the sights and pulled the trigger a second before he fired his gun.
His bullet hit the ground at her feet, kicking up dirt into her eyes.
For a second she couldn’t see, but when her vision cleared, she saw the man she’d aimed for lay on the ground beside his ATV, struggling to get up.
One down, three to go.
Ginger topped the rise, followed by Aramis, spooking D’Artagnan. He pulled against the reins Jacie held on to tightly. She didn’t let go, but she couldn’t get another round off while he jerked her around.
When he settled, she aimed at the closest rider to her. He was halfway up the hill, headed straight for her.
She popped off a round, nicked him in the shoulder, sending him flying off the vehicle. The ATV slipped over the edge of the trail and tumbled to the bottom.
The other two riders were on their way up the hill. One split off and headed back down the side, straight for where Tracie lay sprawled against the slope, low crawling for her Glock that had slipped loose of its holster. The other rider raced toward Jacie.
Jacie aimed at the man headed for Tracie.
D’Artagnan pulled against the reins, sending Jacie’s bullet flying wide of its target.
She didn’t have time to adjust her aim for the rider nearing the top of the hill. He was too close and coming too fast.
Jacie let go of D’Artagnan’s reins, flipped her rifle around and swung just as the rider topped the hill. She caught him in the chest with all the force of her swing and his upward movement. Jacie reeled backward landing hard on her butt, the wind knocked out of her.
The rider flew off the back of the vehicle and tumbled over the r
idge.
Jacie scrambled to the edge and watched as the rider cartwheeled down the steep slope, over and over until he came to a crumpled stop, midway down.
The last rider standing had reached Tracie before she could get to her gun. He gathered her in his arms and stuck a pistol to her head. “Pare o dispararé a mujer!”
Even if she couldn’t understand his demand, Jacie got the message. If she didn’t stop, he’d shoot her sister.
Two more ATVs arrived on the canyon floor.
Jacie had no choice. She didn’t want to leave her sister in the hands of the thugs below, but she couldn’t fight them when they held the trump card—her sister.
She eased away from the edge of the ridge and scoped her options.
D’Artagnan and the other horses were long gone, headed back to the safety of the Big Elk Ranch barn.
The ATV she’d knocked the rider off stood near the edge of the ridge. If she hoped to escape, she had to make a run for it.
Jacie ducked low and ran for the ATV, jumped onto the seat, pulled the crank cord and held her breath.
The two new ATV riders were on their way up the hill. The man holding Tracie fired off a shot, but his pistol’s range wasn’t good enough to be accurate at that distance.
The ATV engine turned over and died.
Jacie pulled the cord again and the engine roared to life. She gave the vehicle gas and leaped forward, speeding toward the closest help she could find. The Raging Bull Ranch.
She had a good head start on the other two, but they didn’t have to know where they were going; they only had to follow.
Jacie ripped the throttle wide open, bouncing hard over obstacles she could barely see in the failing light.
The sun had completely dipped below the horizon, the gray of dusk slipping over the land like a shroud. Until all the stars twinkled to life, Jacie could only hope she was headed in the right direction.
After thirty minutes of full-out racing across cactus, dodging clumps of saw palmetto, lights appeared ahead. Her heartbeat fluttered and tears threatened to blind her as she skidded up to a gate. She flung herself off the bike and fell to the ground, her legs shaking too badly to hold her up.