To Con A Cowboy (Hunks and Horses Book 3)

by Maggie Carpenter

  "Yep. Those are the ones I saw when I met with him."

  "That appears to be all he has," Spike declared, "and there's no emails to himself in the last twenty-four hours. He was trying to pull a fast one."

  "What a surprise," Brett grunted. "A blackmailer who lies."

  "If you want, we can go through all this correspondence and the files. I'm in no hurry."

  "Can you get into Robert Hoffman's computer, or email, or whatever it is you do?"

  "Sure. Give me a few minutes."

  "So what do we do now?" Amber asked. "Do I go ahead and press charges?"

  "He'll be arrested regardless. He started the fire."

  "I want to go after him. He's horrible."

  "If you do you might have to testify, and that will mean talkin' about why you wanted the job with me."

  "Oh."

  "I'm gonna call the sheriff. I want that creep outta my house, but you don't have to make up your mind this minute. We can talk about it."

  "I'd like to do that."

  "I'm in," Spike exclaimed. "For a guy who plays dirty he has shit for security. Sorry. Excuse my language. Look here. He has files on a ton of celebrities."

  "Are you sayin' you're in his computer?" Brett asked.

  "Uh-huh."

  "But, how?" Amber exclaimed

  "I did it the easy way. I sent him an email from Andrew and he opened it. He has no idea it contained spyware. Look at his response. I wrote, Sorry you haven't heard from me. I've been burning the midnight oil."

  "Spike, you don't know just how true that is, in a gruesome sort of way," Amber said solemnly. "He almost died in the fire he started. He's lying in a bed down the hall totally messed up."

  "Whoa."

  "What did Hoffman write back?"

  "I've been worried. What the hell? I hope you got something worthwhile. I haven't responded. Let him sweat."

  "Oh, my gosh. This is incredible," Amber exclaimed, staring at the screen. "Does he know you're on his computer?"

  "Not a clue. This is interesting. He has a file here called Patsies. I'm going to copy it."

  "I can't believe what I'm seein'," Brett muttered. "Now I know why this is illegal. Please tell me there isn't an army of people who do this."

  "Governments have people who do nothing but this all day, but this is beyond your average Joe Blow hacker What I'm doing is pretty high up the ladder. You need expensive software and equipment to do what I do, and a lot of knowhow."

  "Thank God for that."

  "Okay, downloaded Patsies. Huh. There are more files with the names of major celebrities. Let's open up Kristy Cavendish. She's a big star. Wow. She's been paying Hoffman twenty-grand a month for almost a year. No wonder. Check out the photo."

  "That's Kristy Cavendish?" Amber said with a gasp, staring at the picture. "It can't be."

  "Apparently before the plastic surgery and new body. I wonder where he found a naked picture like that."

  "This man is evil," Brett said gravely, "and I bet he's done even worse."

  "I can blow up his computer, and Andrew Stern's. Screwing up scumbags like these guys is one of the reasons I risk my freedom doing this."

  "Yes!" Amber exclaimed. "Drop a nuclear bomb on both their heads."

  "I'm going to have a cruise around first and see what else is here."

  "Excuse me for a minute," Brett said, rising to his feet. "I'm gonna get in touch with the sheriff."

  Walking across the room and into his studio, he closed the door and placed the call.

  "Brett. I'm surprised to hear from you," the sheriff said, accepting the call immediately. "Is everything okay?"

  "Hey, Ed. Yep, everything's just fine. Can you send an ambulance to pick up Andrew Stern? We cleaned him up and he's sleepin', but he's not breathin' well."

  "Sure. Did you manage to get what you needed?"

  "Yeah. Not a problem. He was so freaked out I think he had a momentary pang of conscience," Brett lied.

  "No threats of bodily harm?"

  "I'll admit to my questions bein' a bit unfriendly, but only in tone."

  "I can live with that. I'll send an ambulance right away. Is your friend ready to give me a statement?"

  "She wants to think about it."

  "Understandable. I'll have to come up anyway to oversee Stern's transportation and place him under arrest. We found a jacket at the scene with his cell phone in the pocket. It was him all right. I'll see you shortly."

  "Thanks, Ed."

  Ending the call, Brett entered the control room and sat behind the sound board. As the quiet engulfed him, he pondered the fate of Robert Hoffman and Andrew Stern.

  "Blowin' up their computers would only be hittin' the pause button," he murmured. "Andrew will recover, hopefully he'll spend some time behind bars for the fire, but Hoffman, he'll just start usin' some other sleaze bag photographer. He needs to be stopped, and stopped for good."

  Fifteen minutes later he placed a call to The White Feather Lodge, then walked back to join Amber and Spike. They had uncovered Hoffman's bank accounts and investment portfolio.

  "There you are," Amber said, sitting back as he entered. "That took you a while. Robert Hoffman is absolutely loaded."

  "No doubt," Brett replied. "Spike, can you send Hoffman another email from Andrew Stern?"

  "Sure."

  "Tell him about the fire, say something like, I'm badly injured and in hospital, but the pictures are in my camera in my hotel room. You need to pick it up. I'm worried it might be stolen. Something along those lines. Something to bring him runnin'."

  "That's what took you so long. You've got an idea," Spike remarked with a wicked grin. "Can you fill me in, or do you need to hold your cards."

  "I'm definitely gonna fill you in, 'cos I need you, assumin' you wanna take this guy down as much as I do."

  "Hell, yeah."

  "But why do you want him to come here?" Amber asked.

  "He and I are gonna have a private conversation."

  * * * * * * * * * *

  Though despised and often threatened, Robert Hoffman lived in a luxurious home, dined in the finest restaurants and enjoyed an active social life. His friends knew him as Bobby Hoffman, and believed he dealt in real estate. It was true he had a broker's license, and on occasion he would buy a house in foreclosure, make cosmetic improvements and sell it for a hefty profit, but that was his cover. He worked from home, though he had several mailboxes in various locations. He never kept to a routine, often wore disguises, and over the years had created ingenious ways of collecting the money from those he blackmailed.

  Undercover Publishing had started as an offshoot. With a couple of ghostwriters he'd published a few unauthorized biographies, one of which had rocketed to the top of the sales charts. In spite of legal wrangles he'd made a ton of money, and managed to maintain his low profile. As Robert Hoffman, publisher, he never took meetings or accepted interviews, and all his business took place electronically. He considered his computer his best friend.

  Bobby Hoffman, outgoing real estate tycoon, was a man about town.

  Robert Hoffman, publisher/blackmailer, lived in the shadows.

  His morning had not begun well, and had become more worrying as the day continued. He'd not heard from his longtime photographer, Andrew Stern. After Robert had placed several calls, sent texts and emails, a quick note had finally popped into his mailbox. Filled with relief he'd responded, but after almost thirty-minutes he was still waiting for a reply. With Andrew's cell phone still going straight to voice mail, the unusual behavior had sent Robert into an anxious frenzy.

  "Thank God," he exclaimed, urgently opening the fresh email. "What the fuck is going on with you?"

  Bobby. Things aren't good here. I'm leaving to go to the hospital. I got trapped in a fire last night. Barely escaped. Lost my phone. Hurts to breathe. Can barely type this, but I did get the pictures. They're still in the camera. It's in the hotel safe in my room. Code 5578. I left the cable so you can download them. Room
number 222. I'll leave an envelope for you at the front desk with the card key. Come as soon as you can. Be sure and bring your computer.

  Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Robert typed his reply.

  Andy. I'll catch a red-eye. Be there late morning. Feel better.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Brett, Amber and Spike had just finished ironing out the details of Brett's plan when the doorbell announced the ambulance and sheriff had arrived. Brett and Amber left to meet them, while Spike continued digging through Robert Hoffman and Andy Stern's computer.

  "Amber, unlock Andrew's bedroom," Brett said hastily, handing her the key. "I just realized holding someone against their will is illegal."

  "Even though he's passed out?"

  "I don't know, but better to play it safe."

  "Okay."

  As she turned and hurried to the end of the hall, Brett continued on and opened the front door, but to an empty porch. Stepping outside he found the sheriff admiring Spike's Harley Davidson while the paramedics removed the stretcher from the ambulance.

  "Nice bike," the sheriff remarked. "Is it yours?"

  "I wish. A friend showed up unexpectedly."

  "One of your band?"

  "No, just a friend. We've been kickin' around some tunes in the studio. Come in. Stern is probably still asleep. He seemed to be in a lotta pain so I gave him something to help. I hope that's okay."

  "Sounds charitable if you ask me," the sheriff replied, walking up to join him. "I doubt I would've been so considerate after what he did. Is it okay for the paramedics to come in?"

  "You bet. Follow me. He's just down here."

  Surprised he didn't run into Amber as he led them down the hall, Brett assumed she'd returned to join Spike in the studio. Reaching the bedroom he pushed open the door.

  His heart leapt in his chest.

  Wild-eyed and muttering, Andrew had Amber in his clutches, one arm around her neck while the other flailed in the air, the blood-soaked bandages hanging from both hands. Brett charged forward, but was quickly caught by the sheriff.

  "Don't," the sheriff warned, keeping his voice low. "Leave this to me."

  "I'm going to break her fucking neck," Andrew snarled. "She chased me into the fire. She and her bird."

  "No, son, that's not what happened," the sheriff said calmly, taking a step towards him. "No-one chased you. You were smoking cigarettes and must have thrown a live butt on the bushes. A fire started and your car blew up."

  "No! It was her. Her and her fucking bird. She knew about the pictures! She wanted to destroy them!"

  "You're confused, son," the sheriff continued, reaching for his gun. "You need to let her go."

  "She needs to die. She sent the owl. She'll send it again."

  "I don't know about any owl, but—"

  "I do," Steve declared, entering the room and pushing past the paramedics.

  "Stay back," the sheriff said urgently. "You don't know—"

  "Let him take over," Brett interrupted. "He'll be able to do this."

  "The owl is powerful, far more powerful than you," Steve continued, walking forward and ignoring the sheriff. "The owl will tear out your eyes if you harm her."

  "I can't, he's a citizen," the sheriff protested, but noticing Andrew's eyes fixated on Steve, he paused.

  "Please, Ed. He can do this."

  "Looks like you could be right. I'll give him a minute."

  "Do you want the owl to return?" Steve asked calmly. "You know you won't survive if he does."

  "She'll send him," Andrew exclaimed. "If I don't kill her, she'll send him."

  "Be warned, Andrew," Steve said gravely. "If you harm her, he will claw you to pieces. He's a creature of the night. He will swoop down as you sleep. You know this is true. He told you in your dreams."

  "He did! He did! He hooted at me. He hooted that he was going to kill me."

  "I am his messenger. You will only be spared if you let her go. If you harm her, his mighty talons will tear you to shreds. You know I speak the truth."

  "Why? Why did she send him?"

  "You threatened her. You threatened the man she loves."

  "But I was just doing my job."

  "Let her go now, and the owl might let you live, but the owl grows impatient. Lower your arm, that's right. Like that. Come to me, Amber, the owl is waiting to see you. He must know you're safe or this man will die."

  The moment Andrew loosened his grip, Amber ducked away, darting to Steve who hurried her across to Brett. The sheriff asked the paramedics to prepare a sedative, then walked cautiously towards Andrew, while Brett and Steve moved Amber into the hall.

  "You were amazing," Amber said gratefully, staring at Steve as Brett held her. "How did you know what to say?"

  "Lucky guess."

  "Darlin', you've got blood all over you," Brett remarked. "I'm takin' you upstairs for a shower. Steve, when the sheriff leaves could you tell Spike what happened? He's in the studio. We shouldn't be long."

  "Sure,"

  "Fine job," the sheriff said, stepping into the hall. "I didn't catch your name."

  "Steve."

  "That was impressive," the sheriff declared as the paramedics wheeled Andrew from the room, strapped onto the stretcher. "I'll need to take a statement about what just happened from all of you, but it will have to wait. I need to be at the hospital when they check him in."

  "Amber has to get upstairs and into a shower," Brett said, already moving her away. "I'll check in with you later."

  "You go ahead. That's fine," the sheriff replied, then turned back to Steve. "How did you know about the owl?"

  "When I was bandaging Stern's hands he said an owl attacked him when he was trying to get away from the fire. I thought it might work."

  "Good thinking. I'm glad you showed up when you did."

  "I needed to talk to Brett about something. Lucky coincidence."

  "Looks like fate did us a favor today."

  "Looks like," Steve repeated, as they started down the hall.

  "Stroke of genius," the sheriff muttered. "Never seen anything like it."

  Walking to the front door, Steve waited until the ambulance and the sheriff had driven away, then walked back inside and into the studio.

  "Excuse me, Spike."

  "Hi, Steve. Sounded like quite a commotion out there. Is everything okay?"

  "Andrew Stern attacked Amber. She's fine, but Brett has taken her upstairs so she can have a shower. He won't be long."

  "Where's Stern now?"

  "He left in the ambulance. The sheriff needed to go with him."

  "Thanks for letting me know."

  "What you do with computers is fascinating."

  "From what I hear, the same is true of you and animals."

  "We talk to each other."

  "That's what I say about computers," Spike said with a grin. "I wish I had that talent with horses."

  "You're welcome to meet Catori. I think he'd enjoy you."

  "That would be great. I just need to transfer some data and I'm done here."

  "When you came in, did you see where the driveway went down to the left?"

  "Yeah, sure."

  "That will bring you to the barn."

  "I'll only be a few minutes, and don't worry. I won't ride my bike."

  Steve smiled his reply, then left.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  "Feelin' better?" Brett asked, gently moving the foamy sponge down Amber's back. "That was one helluva scare."

  "It was, but I'm fine now."

  "I wish we could take our time, but I don't like to keep Spike waitin'."

  "Maybe we can take a shower again before bed," she suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I love this. The hot water, you and me naked and all wet."

  "Now you're talkin'. Ready to go back down?"

  "Sure. I can't wait to see what else Spike has uncovered," she said as they stepped from the shower stall. "What a neat guy."

  "Yeah, he is. I'm glad we me
t him, though I wish it had been under different circumstances. Hey, Amber, how did Andrew get the jump on you?"

  "He was standing behind the door when I walked in. Next thing I knew he was dragging me across the room raving about the fire and the owl. You arrived just in time. He'd moved his arm from around my waist up to my neck."

  "You've been through so much these last few days, but there's an end in sight. I'll take care of Hoffman and we can move on."

  "I want to come with you," she declared, walking into her closet off the bathroom. "I want to see the look on his face when he gets what's coming to him."

  "I understand how you feel, but I'm not sure that's a good idea, especially after today," Brett replied, pulling on his jeans and shirt. "He could be built like a prize fighter. There's no tellin' what might happen."

  "But both you and Steve will be there."

  "I'll think about it, and don't you look gorgeous," he remarked, looking her up and down as she appeared in a yellow sun dress and sandals.

  "You like this? It's too hot for jeans."

  "Hell, yeah. I wanna ravage you while you're wearin' it."

  "You just said yourself we can't keep Spike waiting," she said airily, walking into the bedroom. "Are you coming?"

  "Sassy Lassy, I'd follow you anywhere."

  They headed down the stairs and into the studio, but as they entered they discovered Spike and the dogs were gone, and his equipment had been packed up.

  "That's weird," Brett remarked, pulling out his phone to call, but as he did, he discovered he had a text waiting.

  At the barn with Steve meeting Catori. I put everything important on a disc. It's on the coffee table. Back soon, or maybe I'll see you here.

  "Spike's with Steve and the horses. You wanna join them?"

  "Of course."

  "Let's take Betsy."

  Walking through the kitchen and into the garage, they climbed in the aqua truck, but Brett didn't start the engine or raise the garage door.