by Piper Stone
“In other words, winning is their objective at all costs.”
“You do understand, my friend. There’s never been any member of the family arrested for criminal activity, but there have been plenty of accusations.”
Boone shook his head. “Accusations that were shoved under the rug.”
“You got it. Given there’s been no real activity from their corporations, at least that I’ve heard, even the name has been forgotten or pushed aside.”
“And I’m assuming they have certain powerful connections.”
“With tentacles like you wouldn’t believe.” Sawyer nodded toward the woods. “Why they’d take a chance for any reason and allow any concept of corruption on their own property is beyond me and very sloppy.”
“Interesting.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Boone knew he was going to have to confide in his friend. “The veterinarian I mentioned?”
“The one you’re hot after?” Sawyer teased.
“We’re just friends, but that’s the one. She believes she was shot at the night she picked up the puppies from the house next door.”
“Because of banging heads with the folks in charge of the rodeo?”
“Yeah.”
Sawyer exhaled and scratched his head. “Regulations require a veterinarian to be at all events. My guess is the fact she’s new to town was a selling point.”
“She wouldn’t know anything about the history,” Boone agreed.
“Bingo. Well, we’re not going to find any answers standing here. Let’s take a drive.”
Boone lifted a single eyebrow. “We can find more on foot.”
“Why did I know you were going to suggest that? As if I didn’t get enough of a workout this morning and don’t you dare call me old!”
Laughing, he patted Sawyer on the back. “Thanks for your help. Let’s go.”
“I’m going to grumble the entire time.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” Boone led them down a short path behind the barn and into the woods. Using the GPS on his phone, he kept them on track as they wound their way past fallen limbs and thick underbrush.
“What do you hope to find?” Sawyer asked after several minutes.
“Evidence maybe. I don’t know. I’ve had this bad feeling since I signed up for the Stampede and I can’t shake it.”
“Take a piece of advice from your old buddy. Don’t rock the boat. If there’s something going on, you don’t want to be caught in the middle.”
Boone shot him a look then took a glance at his phone. “I know that. I’m not trying to be a hero. The fact a horse was killed for no apparent reason is reprehensible.”
“Any idea who the horse belongs to? Any markings to note?”
He thought about the question. While he’d knelt down by the poor baby, stroking the horse’s mane, he’d been caught up in the horror. He allowed his mind to roll back to the discovery. “Beautiful Sabino Arabian. He had distinctive white marks under the chin.” When he no longer heard the sound of Sawyer’s footsteps, he stopped and turned. Sawyer’s eyes were open wide, his arms shaking. “What?”
“Are you certain?”
“I’ve been around horses all my life. My dad owned a Sabino years ago. Why?”
Slumping, Sawyer covered his mouth with his hand. “I only know of one Sabino in town. He’s owned or was by the family of a firefighter I know. Champion blood lines. There was a lot of talk when the family purchased him. A lot of hope. I lost touch with my buddy for the most part, but I do know this will crush them. The last I heard, they’ve been struggling to make ends meet. Almost sold the ranch a half-dozen times. The Carter’s landed on their feet, or so I heard. This will be a significant blow.”
“Then why kill him?” Boone asked quietly, his mind reeling.
“Revenge? Money? I don’t know.”
“Stasha was warned not to interfere. Maybe the kill was a warning.”
“Maybe. Let’s see what we can find.” Moving in front of Boone, Sawyer took long strides, jumping over debris. “Damn strong odor.”
“I have a terrible feeling this is a dumping ground. Look for any signs of visitors.”
Sawyer stopped seconds later, pointing to an area. “Deer carcass. That might be what you were smelling.”
“I don’t know. Too damn weird.”
When Boone could see the ranch through the trees, he held out his arm, stopping Sawyer. They hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary and were at least two miles from where the horse had been shot.
“Place is a dump,” Sawyer huffed.
“Yeah. It has been since I moved here. Could be a great location.”
“All I know is that one of the great grandsons lived here at least for a few years. That was when I was a hell of a lot younger,” Sawyer said.
Boone studied the area. There were no obvious signs of recent visitors from their vantage point.
“Why did the good doctor come here?” asked Sawyer.
“Penny Johnson came to her clinic and mentioned the pups.”
Sawyer snorted. “Penny does know everything but why not collect the pups herself? She’s pretty fearless.”
“Maybe she was afraid.”
“Too many maybe’s here. I’ll check the house. You check the grounds.” Sawyer stopped short, twisting his head. “By the way, Penny knows the Dreyfus family. She used to be a teacher.”
“That’s interesting.” Boone huffed. Could Penny have lured Stasha to the ranch? No. That was definitely stretching things.
He waited until Sawyer was on the front porch before moving closer. Heading down the side of the house, he scanned the ground as well as the area surrounding it. Nothing. The back of the house had a small clearing backing up to the woods. He noticed a dirt pathway leading through an open area of trees. He walked closer and could clearly see tire tracks. This was the direction the assholes had taken after killing the horse. He would bet on it.
Finding no evidence of any kind, he trotted back to the house, going around the other side. The sun was just starting to set, and the last shimmers of light settled on the front porch. His eyes fell on a notch on the railing. Fingering the hole, he would swear the indentation was caused by a bullet, but one that had ricocheted off. Given the angle of the cut out, he walked back, pretending to be the shooter. The shot couldn’t have occurred from this angle.
He tried it from the other side, the one closest to his house. A series of goosebumps popped along his arms, tickled by the light breeze. If he was correct, the asshole had appeared out of the woods only a half mile from his house. Hissing, he took long strides then bounded on the porch. Stasha had parked only feet away from the single front step. If the shot had missed… Crouching down, he began to feel the grainy hardwood slats.
“What are you looking for?” Sawyer moved behind him.
Boone held his breath as he shifted his hand, crawling his fingers up just over his head. When the tips hit a lump, he exhaled. The bullet was dislodged easily enough. Rising to his full height, he held the piece of steel in between two fingers. “This.”
Taking the bullet out of Boone’s hand, Sawyer whistled. “Do you have any idea what kind of bullet this is?”
“Had a few handguns at the ranch, but this doesn’t look like anything I’m familiar with.”
“Called a full metal jacket. Sometimes used by snipers.”
“Snipers?” Boone chortled. “Are you kidding me?”
“Should give this to the sheriff. Whoever shot off this round is serious and my guess, meant to kill.”
Murder. The word continued to linger in Stasha’s mind as she settled the puppies into their new home. She was only functioning in a perfunctory manner, her mind unraveled from the afternoon’s experience. She’d been unable to get the chilling image of the horse out of her mind. The beautiful stallion had been destroyed by some ruthless monster and there was no way to make sense of why.
As the puppies nipped at her feet
, jumping playfully, she lowered the food bowls onto the ground and watched as they rolled over themselves as they tried to be the first one in line. She managed to smile even though her heart wasn’t in any aspect of her duties. She wasn’t certain why she’d told Boone the story from the time in San Francisco, but she’d seen his face. Horrors were never easy to describe or to face. He was a good man. That much she could tell. Maybe too good and certainly more so than she could ever be.
Snickering, she eased down onto the floor, smiling as two of the pups crawled over to her, climbing onto her lap. “I just might have to keep a couple of you.” Adopting them would be easy. There didn’t seem to be any problems and they’d taken their first shots easily enough. Maybe Boone was right, and Missoula was a healing place.
Maybe.
He was right that she was no Nancy Drew. She didn’t know the city nor anyone close enough to dig further into the crime. Sagging, she closed her eyes and the vision shifted into something sweet, amazing. The way her body had responded to Boone was incredible and he’d managed in a single day to see through her bravado, figure out what she needed. Some would say her cravings were far too dark, but she knew better.
Still, having sex with a man she barely knew let alone trusting him enough to spank her seemed way out of her comfort zone. Huffing, she tousled two of the puppies, realizing she was lying to herself. Sure, she’d ignored her cravings for almost a year, even pushing away friends and club acquaintances, but she had her reasons. A single shiver slithered down her back, creating a wave of nausea. What if Boone found out? What if he learned the kind of woman she truly was?
“Not going to happen.” Her words bounced off the thin walls, creating an echo in her ears. Maybe she was just fooling herself. Secrets never remained hidden for very long.
She tugged one of the pups into her arms, burying her face into his fur. He wiggled and woofed as he tried to nuzzle into her neck. When she held him out, studying his adorable face, he darted a lick across her nose. “You’re a special little guy.” Laughing, she hugged him again before plopping him onto his feet. If only times like this could remain in her life, simple. Special.
Boone had invited her to a restaurant in town and she was tempted to go. There was little food in her refrigerator and she had zero energy to try and rally up to go to the grocery store. Maybe getting out would do her some good.
After refilling their water, she stood in the doorway before closing the door, rubbing her stiff arms. Tomorrow, a notice would go out for adoptive parents. Hopefully, some good would come out of the horrific two days. Falling off a horse hadn’t been on the day’s agenda. At least she could laugh at herself.
She headed to the makeshift barn, disgusted with the condition of the entire structure. Her due diligence in her purchase was a less than stellar moment. “Hey, Mandy. Maybe we can go for a ride this week. Would you like that?”
Mandy dropped her head over the gate, allowing Stasha to rub her nose. “If only I didn’t have to deal with people.” She refilled Mandy’s food and refreshed her water then leaned against the wall, watching her eat. After a few minutes, she made the decision to shower, change and head to this place called Ziggy’s. Why the hell not?
The sun was just setting behind the mountains as she headed away from the house. She wasn’t good at making friends, hadn’t wanted to trust anyone in a long time. New place. New life. She was ready to forgive and forget. Both hands remained on the steering wheel throughout the drive. By the time she entered the city limits, her nerves had created a wretched pit in her stomach. She just didn’t adapt well to change.
She could see the sign for Ziggy’s as she pulled to a stop at a traffic light. The neon writing was an instant draw, a promise of a fabulous time. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d even gone out in San Francisco, even with the two girlfriends she’d been able to enjoy spending an evening with. She wasn’t a shopper or a girl who enjoyed feminine decadence. She’d never been, preferring getting dirt under her finger nails.
As she pulled into the parking lot, she was at the point of hyperventilating. Why was she terrified of meeting any of Boone’s friends? The answer was a raw reminder of her inner psyche. What if they could see right through her, picking apart the ugliness? Swallowing, she found a parking spot and pulled in but couldn’t turn off the engine. So, she sat. And waited. And tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.
Finally, almost ten minutes later, the little voice had chastised her enough. She cut the engine, yanked her keys and hopped out of the cab of the truck. Holding her head high, she headed straight for the front door. Then she shrunk into the shadows. “What the hell am I doing?”
She’d never been this way, not until… No. This wasn’t going to happen. She was going to plant one foot in front of the other. With her hand on the door handle, she counted to ten before flinging open the door.
Wham!
The hot body smacked straight into her, knocking her backwards. Then a large and very muscular hand reached out, catching her by the arm.
“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
As the God-like man tugged her forward, making certain she was stable, his other hand gripping her waist, she could sense several sets of eyes peering in her direction. In the light coming from the restaurant, she wasn’t entirely certain whether his eyes were ice blue or merely a haze from the warm glow. “I’m fine.” She had a sixth sense for a moment, a knowing as if she recognized him, then it faded. She would have remembered his intense eyes.
“Come inside.” He wasn’t smiling, nor did he have the look of a cowboy, at least not from what she’d noticed in town. But he was stunning in his expensive suit and crisp white shirt.
Stasha allowed herself to be taken further in and couldn’t help but notice that his hands never left her. “Really. I’m okay.”
“I’m glad. I wasn’t paying a bit of attention to where I was going.”
There was no twang to his voice, no sense of an accent of any kind. In truth, he seemed out of place given the appearance of the customers she could see. “That’s okay. I was barreling in.”
He nodded and took a step away. This time, his eyes roamed down to her cowboy boots. “A pretty lady such as yourself alone in town.”
His words had lost the kind of friendly banter and she could swear there was recognition in his eyes. She took a purposeful step back. Wait. Had she seen him before? His eyes were so compelling, the kind of intense color you couldn’t forget, yet she couldn’t place anything about where or when. The nagging remained. Her heart was racing, leaving a tightness in her stomach. “I’m meeting friends here.”
Looking into and over the crowd given his height, he seemed to be contemplating her answer. “Yes. Friends. With friends like those in this town, who needs enemies?”
A cold chill created a buzzing sound in her ears. She did her best to smile and out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Boone, his expression one of curiosity. “Enemies. Interesting choice of words. I should go. Have a great evening.” She twisted away from the man, her skin crawling, and took two steps
“Again, I’m very sorry but it was very good to meet you.” His whisper was decidedly hoarse. “And remember, there are certain friends whom are very good to keep in the fold.”
“Stasha…”
“Are you all right?” Boone called.
What the hell had the man just said? She froze and whipped her head around, her breath caught in her throat. He’d said her name. Fuck! There was no way he could have known her name. But had he? The stranger was nowhere to be seen and the entrance door was closed. “What the hell?”
“What’s wrong?” Boone closed the distance, his gaze locked on the massive wooden door.
“Did you see that man?”
“I’m not certain. There were several guys hanging around the door. Why?”
Swallowing, she stared down at her arm. Her skin was covered in goose bumps. “Just a guy I accidentally ran into when I was coming in. No big dea
l.” Play it cool. You’re jumpy. Nothing more. Wait. Wait. This wasn’t making any sense. Enemies? She hadn’t realized she’d moved toward the entrance until Boone touched her shoulder. “What?”
“Are you going somewhere?”
She laughed, the action forced. “Not a chance. I said I’d be here and I won’t go back on my word.”
“I’m glad to hear that and it’s really good to see you.” Boone hesitated, his eyes imploring. Exhaling, he offered a weak smile. “Let’s meet the crew first. And I should warn you about the team.”
“Warn?” She could tell he had something else on his mind.
Boone shrugged as he eased in front of her. “They are a pain in the ass.”
Bursting into laughter, she inched closer, drinking in his cologne and admiring his twinkling hazel eyes. They were kind eyes, so open and honest. “You know I can handle anything you throw my way.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I was envisioning mud wrestling yesterday. I wonder if we could convince Shannon to add a ring.” He held out his arm, ushering her deeper into the restaurant.
She darted a glance over her shoulder one last time. No sense making something out of nothing. “I’ll have you know, I was a champion mud wrestler at an event held in my hometown during college. And don’t you dare ask me where or any details or I’ll kick your ass.”
“The girl I know and love.” He didn’t try and hold her hand. He didn’t wrap his arm around her. He merely guided her past the long mahogany bar, waving at the red-haired woman giving Boone a mischievous look. He stopped short, just before entering a separate room. “The guys are really amazing. We’re all friends and look out for each other. We would die for each other.”
“Why do I feel like there’s more?”
Leaning down, he winked. “Because there is, but…” He allowed the words to trail off as he walked into the room. The whisper was husky, filled with a seductive and over exaggerated Texas twang. “You’ll need to drag it out of me. All methods are acceptable.”