by Dana Mentink
The truth urged her on.
She’d killed her sister. By running. By leaving.
The branches fought her and the sound of pursuing feet came closer.
“Stop it. Listen to me. Stop running.”
She thrashed at the undergrowth until a pair of arms grabbed hold of her legs and brought her to the ground. Fighting and kicking, she tried to free herself.
The hands turned her over roughly and pinned her arms behind her head.
Logan held her to the ground and spoke again and again until the words finally penetrated her ears. “You’ve got to stop running.”
Her breath rasped in sharp bursts, but she could not speak. She was afraid, desperately afraid to see suspicion in his eyes. She turned her face away, crying, gasping.
He held both of her wrists in one hand and reached with the other to turn her face to his. “Stop.”
She felt the frenzy lift and despair take its place. “I…” The words would not come.
After a moment, he let go of her arms and gently folded them across her belly. Then he stroked her hair, her shoulders, and wiped the tears that had coursed down her face. “You didn’t arrange to have your sister killed. I know that.”
His face blurred and she blinked to clear her vision. The eyes were still there, clear emeralds with pure light shining in them, unclouded by doubt. She tried again to speak but he silenced her with a kiss. His lips caught the salt of her tears and offered them back to her.
The warmth of his lips lit a spark inside, kindled many years before, the day he rescued her mother’s horse. She let it fill her, surging through her body, and she found herself kissing him back, her fingers twined in his hair.
He stopped for a moment, eyes searching her face, and then he kissed her again, as if he was trying to push the fear aside. She opened her mind and heart to him and let the sensation wash over her and ease away the terrible darkness. Heart pounding, she returned the kiss until they were both breathless.
“It’s okay.” He eased her to a sitting position. “I believe you, Isabel.”
I believe you. She repeated the words over and over in her mind. Though the ground was warm underneath her, she shivered, the fear returning. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe it. What is happening to me?”
He crouched next to her and ordered Tank to sit as the dog bounded out of the trees. “Let’s go back to the house. We’ll talk it out.”
She tried to stand, but her legs refused to hold her. He lifted her and she held him around the neck, pressing her face to his neck, the pulse there soothing and steady.
Just hold on. Hold on.
She weighed so little—less, he was sure, than the packs he’d carried on his back while jumping out of helicopters. She was all delicate bones, silky hair…and fear. He knew with a rock-solid certainty she was telling the truth.
On the walk back to the cabin he tried to analyze his own convictions. She had come to town for the first time, inherited a ranch that could be worth something and told stories about the crazy guy stalking her. It was hard to believe, all right, but the real truth lay in his arms.
Isabel was a victim of a plot, a terrorist who for some reason wanted to destroy her.
His hold on her tightened. Autie would not get the chance.
Logan pushed the door open and sat Isabel at the table. He found a blanket and draped her shoulders, watching for signs of shock.
She clutched the worn flannel and didn’t speak.
He opened cupboards and drawers. “How about I whip you up some hot cocoa? My mom always said hot cocoa is the perfect drink no matter what the weather.” He dumped cocoa powder and what looked like the right amount of sugar into a pan and added milk, whisking so hard some of the brew slopped over the side and sizzled on the gas burner.
He sloshed some into two chipped mugs and sat down opposite her. “Drink up.”
She took a sip and grimaced.
“What? No good?” He drank and forced down a bitter swallow. “Musta got that wrong.”
She smiled, and the sight made his culinary flop worthwhile. Anything that erased the terror from her eyes.
She wiped her tear-streaked face and sat up straighter. “You’ll have to ask your mother to send you the recipe.” She fiddled with the cup. “Do you ever see your mother?”
“Not often. Pararescue kept me away a lot.” He swallowed the guilt. The truth was he didn’t visit because he was ashamed to talk about his failed marriage and stalled career.
“What does she think about your job?”
He knew Isabel was desperately trying to talk about normal life, to restore some reality back to a surreal situation, but he wished they could talk about the weather or politics. Anything else. “She wanted me to run the family business. My dad owns a quarry.”
“But you wouldn’t go along with the plan?”
“I’m not a quarry kind of guy. I’ll make sandwiches. Hard to mess those up.” While he worked, she settled into quiet again. When the sandwiches were ready, he got down to business. “How did Autie get your phone?”
She shook her head, lips trembling. “I thought I left it somewhere or it fell out of my bag. I had to buy a new one.”
“Where did you notice it was missing?”
“The airport.”
“Okay.” He kept his face neutral but she made the connection anyway.
“So…Autie’s been after me since I landed here.”
“Right. The big question is, how did he know you were coming? Who could have told him that? Did Rawley know?”
“I haven’t had any contact with him for years. Only my sister knew I was planning to come here for a visit at some point.” She looked down. “I needed a few more months to save up for the trip. But when she died, I got here as soon as I could.”
“Autie knew exactly when you were in the airport. Did you call ahead? Tell anyone here your plans?”
“I contacted the lawyer who told me I could stay at the ranch.” Her eyes widened.
“Who else?”
“The lawyer gave me the Triggs’ number so I could be sure the horses would be tended until I arrived.”
Logan tensed. “No. I can see where you’re going, but that’s the wrong path.”
“Why?”
“I’ve known Sheila and Carl for fifteen years. They’re good people.”
Her chin went up. “My sister was a good person, too.”
“I’m not debating that. I’m just telling you they aren’t involved in this. You aren’t in a position to know.”
“Because I’m an outsider, right?” Her voice was edged with bitterness.
He got up and paced, determined to keep the frustration out of his voice.
“I didn’t say that, but the fact is I know them better than you do, so on this point you should believe me. They helped me in every step of my career, and when that went bad they tried to pick me up. I know they supported Nancy as best they could while I was deployed, until…” He cleared his throat. “Until things fell apart. I’m telling you, Carl and Sheila are straight-up good people.”
She followed his progress across the kitchen floor. “I’m sure you’re right, but you’re thinking it, too.”
“What?”
Her dark eyes sparked. “About the other person who probably knew I was coming, the person who spent most of his time with Cassie.”
He didn’t meet her eyes as he stared out the kitchen window. “John Trigg.”
“How well do you know him? Is he ‘good people’ too?”
Logan shrugged. “We never really got along. Never did since high school. I think he’s a hothead, and we don’t see eye to eye on politics or any other important subject probably, but that doesn’t mean he’s working with Autie.”
“What about his former girlfriend?”
He raised an eyebrow. “What about her?”
“I heard some girls talking. They said she ran away.”
“Don’t know much except her name. Nora.
She worked for Carl and that’s how John met her. Then she took off, went overseas, I think. He got even more uptight than he was before. I’m sure Sheila knows more, but it was never my place to ask.”
“John’s angry at Bentley. Why? And why didn’t Bentley arrest him?”
“No idea.”
She sighed. “Cassie mentioned that someone close to home was interested in buying the ranch, but she wouldn’t sell. Do you think that could have been John?”
He rolled his shoulders against the tension that was building there. “I don’t know much about John, but I promise you if he’s behind this, we’ll find out. In the meantime, we’ll have to see what the police and Bill Cloudman come up with. I’ll keep them updated.”
He returned to his seat. “This is hard for you, all this uncertainty and the accusations. I’m afraid it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”
She was silent for a moment and he feared she was going to cry again. Instead she stared squarely into his face. “What about for you? How will it be if John really is involved?”
He read the real question. Will you support the Triggs? Or me? “I’m not going to toss you out to the coyotes.” The color rose in her cheeks, but at least her paralyzing fear seemed to have dissipated.
He prayed it would not come down to John’s word against hers.
THIRTEEN
She woke from a nightmare, blanket twisted around her, Autie’s voice still floating in her mind.
Disappear.
She jerked upright, heart in her mouth, startled to see Sheila Trigg standing over her, looking surprised.
Sheila pressed a hand to her chest. “You scared me. Bad dream?”
Isabel tossed the blanket aside. “I was napping. I didn’t hear you come in.” She blinked against the sunlight streaming through the window.
“We heard…there was talk in town. John got wind of some details about Autie’s hideout and…Cassie’s death.”
Isabel noticed wrinkles around Sheila’s perfectly lipsticked mouth. One of her fingernails was torn. “Autie’s been staying in a hunting blind and I think he murdered Cassie here on the ranch.”
Sheila’s shook her head. “It’s an absolute nightmare.”
Isabel took a steadying breath. A nightmare that she would never escape until the truth came out. “Why did you come, Sheila?”
She put her broken fingernail to her mouth. “John was upset when he heard about it. I didn’t want…”
“What?”
She shook her head. “He’s high-strung. He’s had a hard time in relationships. They always seem to turn out to be a disaster.”
“Like Nora?”
Sheila sighed and sat down next to Isabel. “He loved her. I always thought she was more interested in his bank account than his personality, but he never saw it that way. When she took off, it really threw him.”
“She didn’t break things off before she left?”
“No. Not a word.” Sheila groaned. “He’s as hardheaded as his father. I used to love that about Carl when I thought it was determination. Now it’s turned out to be just plain stubbornness. He simply will not see reason about things, and John is the same. It’s maddening.”
“What happened with Nora? How did they meet?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nora was doing clerical work for Carl. She was new in town, didn’t know anyone and she wanted to learn to ride. Carl suggested that John teach her.”
“So John and Nora hit it off?”
“They spent every spare moment together until the day she skipped town about a year ago.”
“Why do you think she left?”
“I suppose she got a better offer. I know her ex-boyfriend called her a few times from somewhere in Europe. Carl said she used to scurry off to a corner when he phoned. I think she made up with him and ran out, rather than have to make a commitment to my son. Maybe Europe was more to her taste than this hunk of wilderness. Can’t really blame her for that.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s been a series of downhill slides since then. John’s half crazy, Carl drinks, too…” She broke off. “Am I babbling? Horrible. I think I need a long nap.”
Isabel saw the sheen of tears in Sheila’s eyes. She chose her words carefully. “I can see how Nora’s betrayal would hurt John.”
“I warned him about her, but he didn’t listen. Some things people have to learn for themselves.” She looked at Isabel. “Did you ever get involved with the wrong person? The kind of person that everyone else knew was a mistake but you just couldn’t see it that way?”
Isabel had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. The wrong person? She could write a book on the subject. Her heart ached for Sheila, but she remained wary. If John had sicced Autie on her, then Sheila might be unwittingly funneling him information.
“Haven’t we all made mistakes like that?”
Sheila gave her a searching look. “Well, I have, but good judgment just doesn’t factor into love, does it? I was a social worker in my younger days, and I’ve seen all kinds of insanity, believe me. People can convince themselves of the craziest things.” She drifted to the window and her eyes narrowed. “I’d better get out there. Looks like John and Logan are having a serious talk.”
“Are you afraid John will start punching like he did with Bentley?”
She didn’t answer.
Isabel laid a hand on Sheila’s arm. “Why is John so angry with Bentley, Sheila?”
“Who knows?” she said as they left the house.
You do, Isabel thought.
John and Logan stood outside the yellow police tape. John didn’t notice their approach.
“What is going on here? I have a right to know everything, Logan.” John’s face was flushed and sweat glistened on his forehead under the cowboy hat.
Logan folded his arms across his chest. “You know as much as the rest of the world. There is evidence in the shed to indicate she was killed there.”
“No way. I found her on the trail with Blue Boy running loose. She was thrown. The doctor confirmed it.”
“The police will do their thing and we’ll know the truth soon enough.”
John snorted. “I wouldn’t trust Bentley to feed my dog, but he’s closed the case and the thing is done.”
“Cases can be reopened.”
“And why are you so close to all this, Logan? What business is it of yours?”
“The horses are mine. I’ve got a stake here.”
“That’s not it.” He finally noticed Isabel and Sheila. “It’s her, isn’t it? You’ve got a thing for the sister.”
Logan straightened. “John, shut up before you get yourself into trouble. I think you’d better quit spouting off and prepare yourself for some questions.”
“Questions?” Sheila said. “Why?”
“Because John spent lots of time with Cassie and he was the one who found her body. The police are going to need to interview him,” Logan said.
John spat on the ground. “If Bentley comes near me again, I’ll break his jaw.”
“Not the best approach to prove your innocence.”
John’s eyes blazed. “Innocence? Quit talking like a cop. You don’t know what went on around here. You’re an outsider.”
“I’ve lived here as long as you.”
“Nah. You left. To do your hero bit. Left everything behind, including your marriage.”
Logan took a step forward. “That’s enough.”
“No, it ain’t. You strut around all important, but fact of the matter is, you couldn’t even hang on to your own wife.”
Logan’s eyes glittered and Isabel could see him take a long, slow breath. When he spoke, it was low and deep. “John, I’m not going to take you apart right now because I think you’ve had a lot to deal with and I respect your parents, but I suggest that you get your facts in order before the police come to call.”
Sheila stepped toward him. “John didn’t hurt Cassie. It was probably that maniac who’s chasing Isabel around.
”
“Someone hired that maniac,” Logan said.
She started. “Who?”
Logan paused. “That’s unclear.”
Sheila sucked in a breath. “Who do you think, Logan?”
Isabel could not stand to see Logan cover for her, especially with a woman he held so dear. She stepped forward to speak, but someone else answered first.
Carl pulled up in a truck, wheels squealing as he stopped abruptly. He got out, face flushed, sweat shining on his wide face. “Bentley says he found some interesting evidence in the hunting blind.”
John raised an eyebrow. “What evidence?”
“The kind that proves Isabel hired Autie to kill her own sister.”
Logan took in the surprise on Sheila’s and John’s faces. He held up a hand. “Carl, that’s police business. It isn’t for you to be spreading around.”
“I’m the mayor, Logan. If I need to know what’s going on in my town, I’m going to find out, especially when I hear accusations being leveled at my son.”
“No one is accusing your son.”
Carl huffed. He looked at Isabel, blotches of color on his face. “So? You hired that nut to kill your sister so you could get your hands on her land?”
Isabel took a step back as if she’d been struck. “No. That’s not what happened.”
John shook his head. “Then why would the cops think that?”
Carl didn’t take his eyes off Isabel. “They got his phone and found texts on it from her. Money hidden in the blind, also.”
Logan moved closer to Isabel. “Her phone was stolen at the airport.”
Carl snorted. “That’s what I’d say too, if I was trying to save my own skin.”
John gaped. “Isabel hired Autie? This whole time, all the stories about him stalking her, those were lies?”
“No,” Isabel said, her voice pitched higher. “I’m not the one who is lying. I didn’t hire anyone to kill my sister. Whoever did is trying to make it look like I am behind it.” She glared at John.
Carl laughed. “Prisons are full of people who were framed, aren’t they? I just can’t see how you could do it. Your own sister. Your only kin.”
Isabel wrapped her arms around herself and Logan moved a pace in front of her. “Carl, you’re a reasonable man. You know about the innocent until proven guilty rule.”