Texas Orchids (The Devil's Horn Ranch Series)

by Samantha Christy

  “He’s a Thompson. You’ll learn soon enough that family doesn’t care about rules. They take what they want.”

  He grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. “Has he—”

  “Whoa, cowboy. He hasn’t crossed that line, but he sure does like to stand smack dab on top of it sometimes.”

  “You tell me if he bothers you. I’ll handle it.”

  “Oh, you’ll handle it. Maddox, I’m not sure you understand the Thompsons. They aren’t a family you ‘handle.’”

  “If he touches you—”

  “He hasn’t. He won’t. I’m sorry I said anything. Can we talk about something else please?”

  “What does your boyfriend think of Jon hitting on you?”

  “You really don’t get the point of talking about something else, do you?” He stares me down with his side-eye. “And Victor is not my boyfriend.”

  “Does he know that?”

  “He’s nice. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”

  “So Christina is with Jon because she’s afraid of them hurting her, and you’re staying with Victor because you’re afraid of hurting him.”

  “Relationships can be complicated. What about you? Did you leave anyone behind in New York?”

  “No one is crying in their wine over me. I haven’t had a serious relationship in a long time.”

  We pull into Devil’s Horn Ranch, where I left my truck. A car is parked behind it that looks conspicuously out of place on a horse ranch. “You expecting someone?”

  “Considering I don’t know anyone here, no.”

  He parks around back. By the time we get out, a man and woman wearing black suits are walking over.

  “Looks official,” I say. “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”

  “Not yet. But if Jon hits on you again…”

  I roll my eyes.

  “Andie Shaw?” the woman behind the reflective sunglasses asks.

  “Did you kill anyone?” he whispers, then steps forward. “Who’s asking?”

  The woman flashes an FBI badge. “Special Agent Katherine York. This is Special Agent Michael Watkins. Is there someplace private we can talk?”

  “I’m confused,” I say. “Am I in trouble? How did you find me? I don’t live here.”

  “They’re the FBI, Andie.”

  The woman motions to the house. “So, inside?”

  I glance at Maddox, unsure what to say. What does the FBI want with me? I realize my hands are shaking.

  “Yeah. Yes. Of course,” he says. “Right this way.” He ascends the porch steps and opens the door.

  The man doesn’t walk in but stands at attention outside. Agent York says to Maddox, “Mind waiting out here with Special Agent Watkins?”

  “It’s my house. I’d rather not. Look at her,” he says, touching my shoulder. “You’ve got her scared out of her mind.”

  “And you are?” she asks.

  “Shouldn’t you already know that?” Maddox says. York isn’t amused. “A friend. Maddox McBride. My family owns this ranch.”

  I say, “I’d like him to stay, if it’s okay.”

  She thinks about it. “This conversation is confidential, understood?”

  He nods. We go inside and sit around the kitchen table. Maddox says, “Can I offer you anything? Water?”

  “No thank you.” She pulls a photo out of her inside jacket pocket and slides it across the table. “Do you recognize this man?”

  Maddox and I share a look. “It’s Victor James.” I laugh nervously. “Did he kill someone?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out, ma’am. He’s a person of interest in a missing person’s case.”

  I cover my mouth with my hand. “I was joking. I mean, really? Victor?”

  She retrieves a piece of paper from the same pocket and shows it to me. “His name isn’t Victor.”

  Maddox leans over my shoulder, and we stare at a photocopy of a Missouri driver’s license that belongs to Tim Dorsey. On it is a picture of Victor, with longer hair and no facial scruff. She shows us another driver’s license belonging to Neil Richmond. This one is from Vermont. He’s a redhead, not a dirty-blond, like he is now.

  I’m stunned. “Who is he?”

  She points to the Missouri license. “Tim Dorsey.”

  I study the license and look up, surprised. “He’s twenty-three? He told me he’s twenty-seven.”

  “He also told you his name is Victor,” Maddox says. “Just who is this guy, and who do you think he killed?” He gets up and paces. “Holy shit, Andie, you’re dating a goddamn murderer. You guys are going to arrest him, right? Andie can tell you where he lives. In fact, why aren’t you out arresting him now? You obviously know he’s in the area.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Why are you wasting your time here?”

  “Do I need to ask you to step outside?” York says. “Or can you calm down so we can finish?”

  He sits, clearly brooding. I can hardly blame him. I’m more than a little freaked out myself. I have never been more glad that I didn’t invite him back to my apartment the other night.

  “Eleven months ago, while living under the name Neil Richmond, a woman went missing. Someone he worked with at a landscaping business. As of now, he’s a person of interest in a missing person’s case, not a murder.”

  Maddox snorts. “At least he didn’t lie about his profession.”

  “It may have been the only job he could get that allowed him to get paid under the table,” York says. “We got a tip last week that he might be in the Ft. Worth area. We’ve been following him around for a few days and that’s how we found you, Ms. Shaw.”

  Maddox smacks the table. He’s pissed. “You’ve been following him around? Are you shitting me? While Andie’s life could be in danger? Who the hell do you think you are? What if something had happened to her?”

  “Like I said, we’ve been following him. We would have stepped in if he’d tried anything the other night.”

  My heart races. “What if I’d asked him to my apartment?”

  “We had it covered. My partner was ready to pose as building maintenance, checking a gas leak.”

  “I’m confused. Why not just arrest him?”

  She hesitates. Maddox scoffs in disgust. “Because they can’t prove it, and now they’re here talking to you.” He gets up again, this time so fast his chair falls backward. “Oh, hell no,” he says to her. “You want to use her to get to him, don’t you?” He points to the door. “I think you should leave.”

  York pushes another photo at me. “This is Jennifer Grossman, single mom. Left behind a six-year-old girl who’s being raised by her grandparents. Don’t you think this little girl deserves some closure?”

  Maddox picks up the picture and then looks at me. “This could be you, Andie. Blue eyes. Dark hair. Around your age.” He turns to York. “You think this guy has a thing for women who look like this?”

  “It wouldn’t be the craziest thing I’ve ever come across.”

  “What is it you want from me?” I ask. “I don’t know much about him. I’m not sure how I can help. In fact I was thinking of calling it off.” I laugh. “What am I saying? I’m definitely calling it off. I never want to see him again.” I study the woman in the photo. “This is all so creepy.”

  “We’d rather you didn’t call it off,” she says.

  “Why would I—”

  “No fucking way,” Maddox says. “These special agents want you to keep seeing him so you can feed them information. Maybe do a little digging.”

  I laugh. “I think you watch too much television.”

  “Actually…” York says.

  “You’re kidding. No. No way.”

  York nods. “You’ll be safe. We’ll have eyes or ears on you at all times.”

  “You want me to pretend I like him? After seeing all this? I don’t want to do that. I don’t think I could do that.”

  “How well do you know Tim, er, Victor, Mr. McBride?” />
  “I don’t know him at all.”

  “What if Maddox goes with you on your next date?”

  “Oh, that wouldn’t be obvious at all,” he says.

  “I’ll be there, too,” she says. “I’ll pose as your girlfriend. It will be a double date. We’ll have fun, have a few drinks, get him to trust us. Eventually we might end up at his place. You’ll distract him, and I’ll do some digging.”

  “Eventually?” I say, terrified. “Exactly how long do you expect me to do this?”

  She produces a picture of a six-year-old girl. “As long as it takes to find out what happened to her mother.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Maddox says. “Find someone else. Andie can break up with him and then you can swoop in and be his girlfriend.”

  “He trusts her already.”

  “What if he shows up at her apartment unannounced?”

  “She can call us. We’ll have agents standing by.”

  “Way too risky. You’d have to protect her at all times.”

  “We don’t have the resources for that.”

  “Find them or no deal.”

  “Excuse me,” I say. “I’m sitting right here. I do have a say in this.”

  “You’re going to agree to see that slime bag?”

  I pick up the picture of the little girl. “I’m not wild about it, but if I’m their only hope.”

  Maddox blows out a long breath. “I can’t believe you’re considering this. You’re vulnerable. Does your apartment have security?”

  “No.”

  He crosses to the window and looks out. “Move here. There are a dozen guys around who can help keep an eye on you.”

  “Like moving into your house won’t raise any red flags for Victor. Are you crazy?”

  “Not here with me.” He points out the window. “There. In the guesthouse.”

  “How could I justify it?”

  “Student loans,” York says. “You’re a vet recently out of school. You must have a lot of debt.”

  Maddox laughs disingenuously. “If you’re so good at your job, you’d know she didn’t have any student loans. My grandmother paid for her schooling.”

  “Does Victor know that?” she asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Good. Then that will be your reason. Say they’re raising your rent and you can’t afford the increase. You were close to the woman who owned this property?”

  I nod.

  “Tell him she was always nagging you to move to the property since you’re here a lot anyway. Tell him when we all go out together. With me there, he’ll have no reason to be jealous of Maddox. He’ll see we’re a couple, and Maddox isn’t competition. Maddox can become his friend. You can help him find common ground, something Victor brought up he could use as an in.”

  “Why do you keep calling him Victor?”

  “Because you need to keep thinking of him as Victor. We all do.”

  This all feels like a dream, and I keep waiting to wake up. “This is a lot to take in.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry to put you in this position.”

  Maddox sees my shaking hands, pulls a bottle of wine from the rack, and pours me a glass.

  York watches him pour. “Learn how to water down drinks. It’ll help when we’re out together. You’ll need clear heads.”

  I raise the glass. “Well, I don’t need a clear head now.” I gulp it down.

  York stands. “I’ll be in touch. We’ll want to do this soon, in a day or two. Set something up the next time he calls, then let us know.”

  “Aren’t you tapping his phone or something?”

  “It’s not that easy.” She pulls out her card and hands it to Maddox. “Don’t let him find this. Add me to your contacts as Melina Scott.”

  “If his real name is Tim, and whatever he did to that woman he did as Neil, why was he posing as Neil?”

  “We don’t know the answer to that yet.”

  “As in he could be a serial killer?”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It could turn out to be a dead end. Using other identities doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a murderer. It’s only one of a few avenues we’re exploring.”

  “So he’s not the only person of interest?”

  “We’re looking at her ex-husband as well.”

  I exhale a relieved breath. “You know, you could have led with that. Maybe Victor isn’t to blame at all.”

  “I didn’t tell you because I don’t want you to let your guard down.”

  Maddox rests his hands on the back of his righted chair. “She won’t. I won’t let her.”

  The agent smiles for the first time since we met, and I realize she’s actually very pretty. “Looks like you’re a good man to have around. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Bye, Special Agent York,” I say.

  She turns. “Nuh-uh. Melina. Get used to it.”

  “Okay. Bye, Melina.”

  She leaves with the other agent. I close my eyes and try to take in what happened. Maddox taps me on the shoulder and hands me my glass of wine, then pours one for himself. We sit at the table, finishing the bottle, and wonder what the hell we just signed up for.

  Chapter Seven

  Maddox

  “Does this stream provide water for the entire ranch?” I ask, looking at the flowing water below the ridge we’re on.

  “No,” Owen says. “Not even close. We have two main electric water wells, four additional submersible water wells scattered across the property, and miles of water lines feeding into small ponds and water troughs.”

  I’m trying to listen to what he’s saying, but all I can think about is Andie. It’s impossible for me to be with her twenty-four seven, and although I’m a big guy, could I protect her from a criminal?

  My horse starts to trot. Owen rides up beside me. “Ease up. You seem tense, and he can sense it. You’re probably squeezin’ him with your legs and sending mixed signals. Did you even hear a word I said? You seem distracted.”

  “I guess I am.”

  “You miss Vivian. I get it. I’m sure touring the ranch has you thinkin’ of her.”

  “Can you teach me how to shoot?”

  “Sure. You got a permit? Do you own any guns?”

  I shake my head.

  “Why does a city boy want to learn how to handle a gun?”

  “I’m not a city boy when I’m on the ranch. I want to learn everything.”

  “Coulda fooled me with how your mind has been anywhere but here.”

  Someone on a horse approaches in the distance. I squint until I can make out who it is.

  Owen laughs. “I get it now. It isn’t Vivian’s memory that’s distracting you, it’s the pretty veterinarian.”

  “What? No.”

  “I’m calling horseshit, friend. All morning you’ve been about as interested in what I’m saying as a box of rocks. Then Suzie Sunshine comes ridin’ up, and all of a sudden you’re sitting tall.”

  “Hey, guys,” Andie says, bringing Baby Blue to a stop. “Owen, Matteo needs you. Something about a mix-up with the grain.”

  “He didn’t call. My phone not gettin’ a signal?” He pulls it out of his pocket. “Four bars.”

  “I told him I’d ride out. He said you were probably with Maddox on the ridge.”

  He’s amused. “I see. Okay then, you two have fun.” He glances at the hot sun, then takes off his shirt and wipes his brow. I’m shocked to see what’s tattooed on his left shoulder blade.

  “Did you see that?” I ask Andie after he rides away. “He’s got the DHR brand tattooed on his back.”

  “Several of them do. It’s their way of pledging themselves to the ranch.”

  “But what if they go work somewhere else?”

  “You don’t get it, do you? Ranchers are a family. When they find somewhere they fit in, most of them stay for life. Few will ever have enough money to buy their own spread. This is their ranch, and they treat it like their own.”

  “How come
you came all the way out here?”

  “I figured I’d pick up where Owen left off. We never did finish the tour.”

  “Don’t you have better things to do than show me around?”

  “I’m waiting on one of the mares to deliver. Could be a few hours. I don’t have to be present for every delivery, but I like to be. It’s one of my favorite parts of the job.”

  I motion. “Lead the way.”

  We ride past an empty pasture and then see several mares and foals in another.

  “Why do they keep most of the horses in that pasture when there are so many others vacant?” I ask.

  “Devil’s Horn Ranch has six pastures on a rotational system. Each one needs to rest for at least six weeks, twice a year. You don’t want the horses eating them down or you’ll get weeds.”

  “And why is it only the moms and babies are out most of the time?”

  “Ideally, horses should be kept outside all the time, because it’s closest to their natural environment, but it’s not practical on a ranch. Their coats get dull and thick. They get bitten by bugs. They just look rougher. But that doesn’t matter with broodmares. They don’t need to be as pretty as the other horses. People who board their horses like them to look well maintained.”

  “So they live out here?”

  “For the most part, but don’t worry. They are well taken care of. There are run-in sheds if they need to escape the weather, and most days they get brought in for a few hours to be groomed and handled.” She stops her horse and turns her around. “Look. Isn’t this amazing? Everything you can see in every direction is Devil’s Horn Ranch. We’re smack dab in the center.”

  I take it all in. “I can’t believe she did this all by herself.”

  “She did, assisted by the twenty people she employed.”

  I frown. “What’ll they all do when my dad sells? Do you think the new owners will keep everyone on?”

  “Doubtful. Ranchers like to use their own people. They don’t tend to trust outsiders. But who knows? It’s a big place. Maybe some of them will get to stay on—unless the Thompsons or another developer get their hands on it.”

  I think of Owen’s tattoo and wonder how painful it is to have a tattoo removed. “What about you? Will you lose the business?”