“I’ll do it.” Chloe said. Then she took off into the house to call her mother.
Chapter 14
By the time Rylie arrived home, it was dark and she had everything worked out in her mind. She knew exactly what she needed to do and how she’d go about it.
It’s not Reggie. That’s just my nerves talking.
Whoever was behind this, it was local boys, for sure: maybe not Guerrero’s bunch, but people who knew the lay of the land.
Rylie prepared with single-minded determination, putting on her tennis shoes rather than her boots. They’d be quieter and it would be easier to run if she had to. She slipped her pocketknife into the front pocket of her jeans. She thought about taking a gun, but she knew she couldn’t shoot another human being. Safer not to take a weapon that might just be used against her. Chloe’s papers and proof might be enough to help Levi, but then again, who knew if Clay Wayland and his band of brats would listen to reason? As far as she was concerned, it was up to her to clear her brother’s name and prove who the real culprits were.
The men she’d overheard at the MacKenna-Hunter barbeque were the best lead she had. If she hadn’t been distracted by passion, then by fury, she might have thought to tell Clay about it. Not that it would have mattered.
They had said they were planning to meet at twenty-one hundred hours Monday night. That would be nine tonight. And it was at the same location where Levi had found their fence cut once before, near Wade Larson’s water tower in his north pasture.
No wonder the son of a bitch she overheard knew Clay would be busy tonight. He’d known Levi would be arrested, likely because he’d planted the “evidence” himself.
What about Wayland?
Ah, hell. He’s too busy chasing Thorn.
The bastards hadn’t been talking about Clay chasing Rylie, they’d been talking about Clay following false leads on Levi. Who knew what other crap they’d been able to plant to make her brother look guilty?
The men she overhead had to be the ones stealing the trucks. She was sure of it, and somehow, she was going to prove it.
It was about eight o’clock when she. snatched up the cordless, prepared to call Clay. She stopped just as she started to dial, and stared at the phone. Why should she call him? He was the asshole who’d arrested her brother. After all, considering what happened with Gary Woods last fall, Clay very well could be a part of the whole damn mess. And look at how he’d used her. Taking her to bed to get information on Levi.
Even though her mind and heart wanted to reject that thought, right now she didn’t feel like she could trust anyone.
The piercing sound of her cell phone bolted through Rylie and she almost dropped it. Her heart pounded as she checked the display. Skylar’s number. Thank God.
Rylie pressed the On button and brought the cell phone to her ear. “What’s up?”
“I’ve been trying to call to see how you’re holding up.” Skylar paused, her voice filled with concern. “And to check on how Levi’s doing.”
“I’m fine. And Levi... How good could he be doing when he’s in jail on bullshit charges?” Rylie sighed and gripped the phone tighter. “Listen. I’m going to go check something out. I think I know who has been stealing trucks.”
“What? Who?” Skylar’s voice rose. “You’re not about to go off and do anything dangerous, are you?”
“I’m just going to take Sass out to Wade Larson’s north range, near his water tower.” Rylie pushed her hand away from her face as she spoke. “I can go up around back on Catwalk Trail. I’ll tether Sass to the trees and then get a little closer to see what’s going on.”
“That’s too dangerous.” Skylar’s tone was firm. “Call the sheriff’s department.”
“No way.” Rylie knew that her friend was only concerned for her, but she couldn’t help but feel the twist of anger in her gut. Clay. The bastard. The using son of a bitch.
“I can’t go to the law,” Rylie continued. “Clay just backstabbed me—and remember Gary Woods? It’s the sheriff’s department that I’m worried about. I’ll stay out of sight and just get some information so that I have something to take to the authorities. Something that Clay can’t ignore even if he wants to.”
“Dammit, Rylie, it’s way too dangerous,” Skylar insisted. Rylie could easily picture her friend’s concerned expression. “Zack’s working late on a drug bust. He should be home any moment and he can go.”
Rylie glanced up at the kitchen clock. “Won’t be soon enough. They’re meeting in about fifty minutes. I’ve got just enough time to saddle up Sass and get over there and find a good hiding place.”
“No.”
“I’ll call you when I get back.”
“Dammit, Rylie.”
“Bye.” Rylie tossed the cell phone on the counter and checked the clock again. She’d better get her ass in gear and get out to Larson’s north range.
***
Clay rubbed his hand over his stubbled cheeks as he strode into his home and slammed the door behind him. It had been one hell of a day, and it wasn’t over. He had just about enough time to grab a sandwich, then head back to the station.
In his gut he knew Levi Thorn was innocent, but the setup had been good. Of course, there was the large amount of cash deposited into Thorn’s account and hidden in his safety deposit box, but he had a message from one Chloe Somerville on his voice mail, stating she could prove she gave the funds to Thorn, and that she was on her way to show him receipts and documents that would clear up that misunderstanding. Clay tossed his Stetson on the back of a couch and strode toward the kitchen to fix himself a ham and cheese. He’d better make it fast if he wanted to get back to the station before Ms. Somerville arrived.
So, the money could be explained, but what about that damned ledger? No prints, stored in plastic, created like its maker planned to use it down the road to throw suspicion on somebody else. To save his own ass, maybe. Or it could be Thorn’s. Thorn had been military, then law enforcement. He’d be smart enough not to leave prints on a damning piece of evidence like that.
Clay blew out his breath in a hard rush as he grabbed sandwich makings out of the fridge.
No way.
It wasn’t Thorn.
Clay was going with his gut on this one. As far as he was concerned, Levi Thorn had been royally framed. Problem was, the list of people who could have pulled off getting that ledger into the safety deposit box came down to exactly one, if he assumed that none of the bank employees was involved.
Yeah, just one guy. Now Clay had to prove it. But first he needed to eat, to talk to Chloe Somerville, and see about getting Levi to play along until he could get the evidence he needed... and then go talk some sense into Rylie Thorn.
Just as Clay finished making his ham and cheese, the phone rang. He shoved the mayo into the fridge while grabbing his cell phone from its holster on his belt and answered it. “Wayland here.”
“Sheriff, this is Skylar MacKenna-Hunter.” The urgency in her voice told him something was seriously wrong.
“What’s happened?”
“Nothing. Yet. It’s just that Rylie’s gone off and I’m afraid she’s going to get herself in some trouble.”
Clay’s heart thudded at the thought of something happening to Rylie. “Details. Now.”
Skylar explained what Rylie had said, and the trail she was using to get there. “She was in a rush. Something about getting to the water tower before nine so she could find a good spot to hide.”
“The little idiot.” Clay clenched his jaw. “See if you can get Zack out there. I’ll head out, but I won’t have any reliable local backup. Can’t go into details.”
“All right. Hurry, Clay.”
He punched off the cell phone and re-holstered it. He scooped up his sandwich, figuring he could eat it on the way and knowing he needed the fuel to think clearly. He still had on his utility belt, firearm, and bulletproof vest. After grabbing his hat, he strode out the door.
Chapter 15
Sassafras snorted as she walked slowly along Catwalk Trail behind Wade Larson’s fence line. In the darkness, the Chiricahua Mountains loomed around them like dark sentinels, and Rylie tried not to think about what Skylar had said to her, about this being too dangerous.
Reggie...
Stop it.
But it was too late. Rylie felt chilled to the bone even though it wasn’t that cold.
She was here for Levi. She had to help her brother, because it was damned obvious Clay Wayland was happy with his stupid arrest. He wouldn’t be out here looking for the real thieves.
Sass snorted again. “Shhh.” Rylie patted the mare’s neck. “We need to be extra quiet, girl.”
The horse tossed her head like she understood. The yeek-yeek creak of the saddle seemed so loud Rylie was pretty sure it could be heard in the next county, never mind the plink-thunk of Sass’s horseshoes kicking against trail rocks.
As if on cue, coyotes sang in the distance, adding eerie to creepy and lonely. Rylie shivered. She took a deep breath and caught a whiff of pinon, juniper, and horse. Familiar. Soothing. She tried to let it calm her nerves, but that was definitely a no-go. Her heart did an uncomfortable tap dance in her chest, picking up speed with each turn and jiggle on the trail.
Rylie crouched in her saddle, squinting along the top of the brush line to catch a glimpse of the water tower. The moon was a few days past full, so still pretty bright, and the clear, starry sky seemed to add a little light on top of that. She listened, holding her breath and shutting out the rush of blood in her ears.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing but trail sounds and coyotes.
With any luck she’d beaten the bastards to their meeting place.
When she was still far enough away that she could safely leave Sass, Rylie dismounted and tethered the mare to the nearest tree.
Is this where Skylar left the trail when she nearly got herself killed by cattle rustlers last year?
The thought made Rylie’s guts ache with sudden fear, and she wanted to slap herself for letting her mind gibber like some whiney, scared little schoolgirl.
Nothing was going to happen. She’d listen, get what she could, then get the hell out of there.
Rylie tried to sneak down the trail, but every stick snapped like a gunshot, and the pebbles and rocks under her shoes sounded like a smaller, steadier shooting gallery. Tiptoeing was out of the question if she didn’t want a sprained ankle, so she just moved slower, more carefully, gulping in fast breaths as quietly as she could.
About a hundred feet from the water tower, she found a cluster of boulders that blocked the trail off from the rangeland. They were pretty big, and she was small enough that she didn’t think she’d have a problem staying out of sight. It was too dark to read her watch. It had to be getting close to nine.
Her heart pounded even harder and her mouth grew dry when she heard the tires growling up the dirt road leading to the water tower. Seconds later, the deep hum of an engine made her ears vibrate.
Headlights stabbed into her eyes, and Rylie blinked and sank lower behind the boulders. She couldn’t quite believe this was actually playing out like she thought it would. Maybe the universe had decided Levi needed a break. She hoped to hell that was the case.
The roar of that engine got louder, and Rylie realized she wasn’t hearing a pickup. No. Bigger. A semi, maybe, or something close to it. Sounded like it was working hard, pulling a big load. The big vehicle whipped past her hiding place like some sort of medieval dragon, gears grinding and rocks shooting away from its grinding tires like shrapnel.
As pebbles pinged off the boulders in front of Rylie, the truck rolled to a stop, air brakes hissing. The engine shut off, but the cab lights came on and the beams stayed on bright, bathing the whole area beneath the water tower in an eerie crystalline blue.
Rylie tugged at her ear and tried to slow her breathing as she squinted through a crack between the boulders.
Come on, come on. Let me see you, assholes. Faces, names. Come on...
Doors slammed—one, then two, and Rylie bit back a gasp. Two men. It had to be both of the guys she overhead at Skylar’s reception. She leaned into the boulders. Rock scraped her shoulders, and she willed her eyes to adjust to the glare.
Definitely a semi with a black cab and some sort of indistinct circular logo on the door. It was parked less than a hundred feet from her hiding place, and it was hauling vehicles. Trucks. They looked just like new trucks, stacked on one of those trailers auto dealers used to transport vehicles for sale. They were all silver and black, freshly painted, and be damned if at least two of them didn’t look like they used to be hers.
Behind all that was a second vehicle, small and boxy-looking, but she couldn’t see it plainly. She hadn’t heard the sound of the smaller vehicle with all the noise the semi had made.
“At least you’re on time,” said a man’s voice from the other side of the cab.
Rylie almost jumped out of her skin at the sound. That was Voice One, familiar, but she couldn’t place it. She should know it, she’d definitely heard it before, but she just couldn’t put her finger on who it was.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Voice Two. “Funny.” Keys jingled like somebody threw them. “It’s all your problem now. Happy driving.”
A shadowy figure peeled out of the glare into the darkness behind the semi, and all of Rylie’s instincts caught fire. She heard a scream in her head, and hoped to God she hadn’t made any noise.
She knew Voice Two. And she’d know that scrawny build and that fake-ass swagger anywhere. Voice Two, the other man she’d heard at Skylar’s reception—it was Reggie Parker. That bastard who’d tried to rape her when she was in high school.
How the hell had he gotten back here—and gotten into this?
Rage boiled through her, making her breath ragged, and she had to hold back a low snarl.
She could just imagine Reggie getting contacted by somebody who knew what happened back then, or somebody who found out and decided to use it to his advantage. No doubt Reggie was the same slimy, lazy jerk he’d always been, and he probably jumped at the chance for some twisted form of revenge—like stealing the Thorn trucks and helping to frame Levi for the crime.
Rylie took a deep breath, leaning her whole body against the cool bulk of the boulder. If she’d brought a gun, she probably could have shot this bastard after all. As it was, she had a pocket- knife as her best defense—and two good running shoes. It was time to go. She didn’t have both faces and names, but she had something. A lot more than something.
But God, how she wanted to go settle the score for what Reggie tried to do to her, and what he was trying to do to Levi. She’d love to kick him in the balls so hard he’d forever sing falsetto in the St. Jude’s Boy’s Choir. Too bad she couldn’t get close enough to permanently damage the bastard’s family jewels and not get herself killed in the process.
She took a few slow breaths, then as she heard a car door opening, she crept back toward the trail. A few yards, and she’d reach Sass and they’d head out.
Her sneakers seemed quiet enough, and with each step, the tightness in her chest eased a fraction—
Until she put her foot down on a loose rock, slipped, pitched sideways, then crashed to the ground.
Pain fired through her senses and she heard herself cry out as she kept rolling, grabbing for sticks, for limbs, for anything that might stop her fall.
Agony—
And then she hit those boulders head-first.
***
After he left a message for Chloe Somerville to wait for him at the jail and got on the road, Clay made the ten-mile drive to Wade Larson’s ranch in about eight minutes flat. Problem was, he had to park a good quarter mile away, just to make sure he didn’t alert the bastards to his presence.
By the time he found Sassafras tied to a tree, then reached the water tower, it was at least a quarter past nine, the time Rylie had apparently thought the rendezvous was suppose
d to be. He drew his service-issue Glock and eased through the mesquite bushes and brush, pulse hammering in his ears, until he spotted the water tower.
Where’s Rylie?
Worry battled with fury as he scanned each inch of terrain for any sign of her. This was the same spot on the trail where Skylar MacKenna-Hunter had almost gotten killed last year. Bad omen. He could see a bunch of boulders straight ahead, and he made his way to a spot where he could look between the big rocks and see what was happening under the tower.
In the moonlight, he saw a large tow trailer behind a semi, and beyond that—
A goddamned beat-up Gremlin.
Son of a bitch.
If it came to shooting tonight, Clay hoped he got to be the one to take down Hazard Quinn—but what mattered right now was Rylie.
He heard voices, saw a couple of men dragging something alongside the big semi—and his gut knotted.
Not something. They were dragging Rylie.
Fuck!
Clay clenched his teeth. He had no idea if there were more men or just the two he could see. He wanted to charge out and shoot them both, but he couldn’t risk getting taken by surprise. If he played this wrong, he’d lose her, and that just wasn’t happening.
Plan it. Pick your shot. Then take it.
He focused on his targets.
Hold on, little wildcat. I’m coming.
***
The idiots dropped Rylie like a sack of potatoes and started arguing right away. She didn’t even hit the ground too hard, and she kept right on faking being out of it, keeping her limbs loose and still except for the hand she was inching toward her pocket. The knife might be little, but it was deadly sharp, and it was all she had.
Her head hurt like hell where she’d cracked it on the rocks, but she’d only been addled for a second or two. Long enough for them to jump on her, and for her to realize playing dead was her best chance to get out of this alive.
Clay: Armed and Dangerous Page 15