Ladies Love Lawmen: When It's A Matter of The Heart or Death...

by D'Ann Lindun

  “We believe Spencer’s been laying low until he saw a chance to come after the money the Gonzalez gang stole.” Kade noticed her flinch at the mention of her father’s crime.

  “I have no idea where it is.” She met his stare levelly. “Is my father still incarcerated? He didn’t escape?”

  “No, and claims to have no knowledge of the break.”

  “Maybe he’s telling the truth,” she said defensively.

  “Maybe.” Kade’s memory flew back five years to the day Gary McCurdy had been sentenced to life in prison for his involvement in an armored car robbery. He, Reuben Gonzalez and three others had held up the truck and killed the guards. Three of the robbers had been gunned down, and even though Gonzalez and Spencer had escaped, later apprehended, no money was found on them. Neither man would confess to where they had hidden it, but some suspected it was stashed on this farm.

  “Oh, my,” Mesa whispered. “My horses were really nervous in the barn this morning. Was Spencer in there watching me?”

  “Likely.” Kade refused to sugarcoat things. Better for her to know the truth than be shielded. “Are you booked full for the next week?”

  “Almost.” She sounded rueful.

  “You’ve just rented another room,” Kade told her. “I’m sticking around for at least a few days.”

  “No. You can’t.” She shook her head, and her long braid flipped around like a whip.

  Kade raised a brow but didn’t comment.

  “I don’t mean to sound rude,” she said. “But if word of any of this gets out it’ll ruin what’s left of my business.” She blinked hard. “And this place is all I’ve got.”

  “I’ll do my best not to shoot one of your guests,” Kade said dryly.

  She nodded toward his sidearm. “What will you tell them about that? None of my visitors have ever been packing before.”

  “I don’t plan on telling anyone anything more than they need to know.” At her frown, he added, “Don’t worry. I’ll be low key.”

  “I hope so.” She stared into her empty coffee cup, then lifted her gaze. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”

  Kade stood and settled his Stetson on his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Are you leaving?” She sounded so hopeful he had to hide a smile.

  “Not yet. I’m going to take a look around outside although I don’t expect to find much.” He glanced at the window. While they’d been talking, snow had kept falling. “Not with this storm covering tracks faster than they’re made.”

  “You don’t think Gonzalez and my dad really did hide their loot here, do you?” She sounded so sad he wanted to comfort her. For a moment.

  “I don’t know. Chances are he’s halfway to Utah by now. But just in case this storm keeps him from making his getaway and he circles around, I’m sticking close.” He shrugged into his coat. “Stay in the house, Miss McCurdy. Lock it tight and don’t let anyone but me in here.”

  She nodded and looked around. “I guess I could bake some pies for my guests.”

  He buttoned his coat. “I’ll be back shortly.”

  Kade left the beautiful brunette tying an apron around her slender waist and stepped into the snowstorm. A blast of frigid air hit him in the face, and for a moment he stood there, glad to cool down. The lady inside made his blood run way too hot. He had to remember she was a witness in a murder investigation.

  As he circled the property, the exterior of her place impressed him as much as the inside. The old farmhouse, freshly painted in a pale yellow with a deep wraparound porch, looked like a perfect place for relaxing on long summer evenings. The back of the house had a flagstone deck with a large hot tub and built-in grill. A bridge over a bubbling creek looked like an excellent spot to fish from in the summer. A dark red barn with white trim completed the postcard perfect scene.

  A longing for something he’d never had filled Kade. Shaking off unwelcome feelings, he headed down the lane to where Richmond’s body had been found. Howling wind blew snow into his face, making him duck his head against the force of the storm.

  As expected, he found nothing.

  Various law enforcement people and the EMTs who had carried Richmond’s body away obliterated any kind of track that may have been there. Even the bloodstain where Richmond’s body had lain already had snow covering it. Only yellow crime scene tape whipping in the wind showed him where the body had been.

  Kade knelt on one knee for a better look, but couldn’t make out anything of significance. He picked up a handful of cold snow and let it sift through his fingers. What made Waydell Spencer kill his partner? Had they disagreed? Or had Spencer planned to execute Richmond the entire time?

  A cold gust of wind raced across the back of Kade’s neck. Without proper winter gear, Spencer wouldn’t last long in this storm. The chance of him circling around to take shelter in Miss McCurdy’s barn, or even her house, seemed likely. He’d already broken in to steal food and a quilt. Neither enough to keep him alive in this weather.

  Although he hated upsetting Miss McCurdy with his presence, Kade would hate to leave her unprotected even worse. So until Spencer was caught, Kade planned to be a fixture at the inn. He turned away from the site, deep in thought.

  A shot rang out, the bullet hitting the tree next to him, sending a spray of snow every direction. He hit the ground, rolled and pulled his Glock from its holster. Aiming it the direction from which the shot had come, he searched for a target among the snow-covered pines but saw nothing.

  Wiggling on his belly, he made it to the tree line and found a downed pine. Taking cover among the branches, he scanned the area. Whipping wind carrying snow half blinded him. He blinked to clear his eyes.

  Nothing moved but the trees.

  “Give yourself up, Spencer,” he shouted.

  A bullet slammed into the ground next to his thigh, sending white powder into the air and across his legs.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “That’s a little close for comfort.”

  Edging closer to the tree trunk, he poked his head over it and shouted. “Spencer, you’re going to die out here tonight. Come on in, and it might go a little easier on you.”

  Expecting another shot, Kade ducked back down.

  Nothing but whipping wind met his ears.

  Either Waydell Spencer had run, or he waited, hoping Kade would stick his head out where he could get a clean shot. Neither following an armed man through the woods nor getting blasted in the head by a bullet appealed to Kade.

  After weighing his options, he decided to wait for backup rather than stumble into a death trap. In the meantime, Spencer could freeze in the woods. Maybe he’d be a little more willing to come in with his fingers and toes about to fall off from frostbite.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Mesa’s mind raced while her hands worked. Five years ago, facing foreclosure, her father had concocted a plan to rob an armored car with a man he met at the bar—Reuben Gonzalez—who had also recruited three more men. Three had died in the robbery, and the other two had been captured shortly after that, but not before stashing the money somewhere. Neither man would admit to the whereabouts of the loot.

  Now Waydell Spencer had escaped, killed a man and lurked around here? Obviously, he’d returned for the hidden money. Mesa shuddered. It had been hell living down her father’s reputation. People had suspected her of being in on the robbery, some still did because she’d done what her father couldn’t—survived. She’d sold the farm, kept only the house and the few acres surrounding it and opened the inn. It all had been a struggle, but she’d been making it work.

  A bolt of fear shot down her spine.

  What if the marshal also thought she had helped with the escape, hoping to cash in on the hidden loot? She had no idea where it was and wanted no part of it. But would he believe her? Why did it matter?

  She’d just stuck her apple pies in the oven when the marshal came to the door. He knocked and waved through the glass panels. She wiped her hands on her bright red apron wi
th reindeer-emblazoned across the front and hurried to let him in. “Did you find Spencer?”

  “Not exactly. He took a couple shots at me, but missed.” Kade removed his hat and coat. “I need to let my chief know.”

  Mesa twisted both hands in her apron. “Do you think he’ll come back?”

  “I don’t know,” the marshal admitted. “It’s cold out there. It’s likely he won’t want to go toward town. An isolated farmhouse like this one would be a likely target, I’d say. Not to mention if he’s trying to collect his money…”

  “You’re not making me feel a lot better,” Mesa said.

  “I’m here.” He touched the holster at his side. “You’ll be fine.”

  Looking at his broad shoulders and long legs, she wasn’t so sure about that. He screamed danger! And it had nothing to do with the criminal outside. Turning away so he wouldn’t see the undisguised longing in her eyes, Mesa chastised herself. What was she thinking? She wasn’t, she admitted. Falling for the marshal would take her mind off business. Something she couldn’t afford.

  “I need to see about my pies.”

  “Be on alert,” Kade warned. “Don’t let your guard down for a minute.”

  “I won’t.” She left him dialing his cell phone and walked into the kitchen. Wind whipped snow against the windows, and she shivered. Visibility was less than zero. No way to see if Spencer lurked outside, trying to find a way in.

  “Smells good in here,” Kade said upon entering.

  “Thanks. Apple pie.” What were they talking about? Pies? When a man had been killed in her driveway? Mesa’s hands shook as she reached for a bag of pecans on the shelf. “What does your chief say?”

  “He agrees I should stay here and keep an eye on you until Spencer is apprehended.” Kade had removed his Stetson in the living room, and he ran a hand over his head. “Hopefully it won’t be long. There are several marshals searching, along with local law enforcement.”

  “That’s good,” Mesa murmured.

  Kade took the chair opposite her cooking island, watching as she folded the pecans, sugar and light colored syrup in a large mixing bowl. “Who are you expecting in the morning?”

  “My help, a live-in couple, will be back.” She poured the sticky mixture into waiting pie crusts. “And my guests.”

  “Where are they today?”

  She placed the bowl and spoon in the sink. “At the Montrose airport. The storm diverted all flights there. They’ll be back around midnight tonight. The last flight lands at ten.”

  He nodded. “Do they live here in the house?”

  “Yes, there’s an apartment over the garage.” She lined up her pies on a baking sheet, ready for the oven when the others came out. “I have an older couple celebrating their anniversary, the mother and sister of a woman here in town who doesn’t have enough room. And a last-minute reservation for a single man, made just today.”

  He straightened. “Today? When?”

  “It was on my answering machine when I came back inside.” She gasped. “You don’t think it’s—”

  “Spencer?” He shook his head. “No. He wouldn’t be that ballsy.”

  “Well, you know what he looks like anyway, right?” She imagined he had a few mug shots of the guy.

  “Sure.”

  Mesa poured two cups of coffee and pushed one mug across the island. “Cream? Sugar?” He shook his head. “No, thanks.” His tone turned serious. “Miss McCurdy—”

  “Mesa, please.”

  His smile made her tummy do a little back flip. “Mesa.” Kade’s tone turned serious. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think you ought to cancel those reservations.”

  Her heart plummeted. “I can’t. I haven’t had guests in a month. There hasn’t been any snow…and with criminals running amok, people haven’t been lining up to visit.”

  He sighed. “I understand.”

  The scent of baked apples and cinnamon filled the air, and a fierce wind beat against the walls creating a cozy environment. If there wasn’t a killer lurking outside, Mesa would have enjoyed getting to know the marshal better. She sipped her coffee, ignoring that crazy thought.

  “Can you show me around?” he asked abruptly.

  “Of course.” She stood and dumped the remnants of her drink in the sink. Leading the way down a short hall into a room with shelves, stacks of groceries on them, two washing machines and a big dryer she said, “Mudroom.”

  She led him into the garage where a black SUV was parked. Pointing to the stairs leading upstairs she said, “Joe and Anna’s quarters. We’ll have to wait until they come home to go in.”

  “Is there another entrance to their apartment?”

  “Yes. A staircase to the backyard.” She led him back inside and pointed to a closed door across from the mudroom. “That’s my suite.” Her cheeks heated as she pushed open the door and he looked at the wedding ring quilt covering her bed. A few pictures of her family in happier days hung on the walls. An old-fashioned oak dresser and bureau that had belonged to her mother filled the room with memories. The connecting door to her bathroom stood open, showing a small, neat room.

  Kade made no comment and closed the door.

  Leading the way into the living room, she gestured toward the front door. “Guests come in that way.” She pointed the other direction. “That door leads to the backyard. It’s covered in snow right now.”

  He walked to the door and tried the knob. “Secure. Good.”

  As he perused the room, she wondered what he thought of her home. A blue checked sofa and matching navy-colored wing chairs with her mother’s homemade quilts hung over the back of them invited guests to sit and read or just enjoy the fireplace. The other furniture was an eclectic mixture of tag sale and secondhand store finds that she’d found and refinished herself. Small glass bowls filled with pinecones lightly scented the air.

  Continuing with her tour, she led the way to the wide staircase. “The guests’ bedrooms are up here.”

  She wondered if he watched her behind as he followed her up the stairs.

  “How many rooms do you have up here?”

  “Six,” she said. “Each with their own bathroom. No sharing here. The three on this side are connected for a large family or group.”

  “That’s a lot of work for you,” he commented.

  She paused on the landing. “It is. But I love it. And Joe and Anna are amazing. Without them, I couldn’t do any of this.” She pointed to the end of the hall. “They live in a suite through there. It’s locked on their side.”

  Again, he didn’t comment as she opened each door. Like the rest of the house, she’d decorated each room with furniture she’d found and refurbished herself. More of her mother’s quilts added a homemade touch to each.

  He perused each room but didn’t comment.

  Strangely disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm, she showed him the emergency exit at one end of the hall. He checked the door and found it unlocked.

  “I have to have them open because of fire codes,” she explained.

  He frowned. “Okay.”

  She indicated the last room on the right. “I thought about putting you here.”

  With a little shake of his head, he said, “No. I need to be closer to you.”

  “But there’s no guest room downstairs.”

  “A cot or bedroll will be fine.” He didn’t wait for her to form an argument as he led the way back downstairs.

  Mesa’s heart pounded against her ribs. She rarely dated, her inn kept her too busy, but when she did she never brought a man home and almost never stayed over at his place. The thought of the sexy marshal in her bedroom made her nerves jump.

  Kade broke into her thoughts. “Is this house the same as when your father lived here?”

  “No.” Mesa picked at her thumbnail as painful memories flooded her. First her mother’s death by cancer, then her father’s crime. By redoing the house, she had tried not only to make it guest friendly but to wipe out t
hose ghosts. “I took out a loan and completely redid the upstairs. There were just three bedrooms and one bath. The garage apartment didn’t exist either.”

  “Where did your father sleep?”

  “Down here.” She pointed to the west corner of the spacious living room. “His bedroom used to be there, but I tore it out and repainted everything.”

  “Did you sleep upstairs then?”

  “Yes.” She gave him a puzzled look. “Why all these questions about our bedrooms?”

  “I’m trying to get an idea if Spencer has any clue about the inside of your house.”

  “Oh, I don’t see how he could. The Gonzalez gang was never here, and I doubt Dad would have told them anything about the house.” A shiver ran down her back. Her father wouldn’t have put her life in danger, would he? “I slept in the big room at the end of the hallway. The one that’s now the two-bedroom suite.”

  “Are you certain Gonzalez was never inside here?”

  “You’re frightening me,” she blurted.

  His eyes filled with compassion for a moment, then chilled. “I’m not trying to. I want you to be aware of what you’re up against. Harris Richmond wasn’t the first man Spencer murdered. He murdered the guards escorting him to prison. If you get in his way, he won’t think twice about killing you, too. I’m here to prevent that from happening.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t know what my father may or may not have told Gonzalez. At the trial, Dad said Reuben approached him with the plan to rob the armored car. It was kind of a fly-by-night deal. I don’t think either of them put much planning into it, just acted on the spur of the moment.”

  “Why did your dad agree to go along?” Kade didn’t sound judgmental, like most people, only curious.

  “We were desperate after my mother’s illness.” Tears welled, and Mesa fought them back. “She had cancer, and we had no insurance. Dad loved this place so much that he just couldn’t bring himself to sell it. But the bills piled up until I guess he felt he had no choice and did something really stupid.”

  “You didn’t want to be a farmer?”