“Mr. Vega has threatened a lawsuit to recoup his losses.”
“He can sue all he wants. If Mr. Vega needs to hear that again have him contact our attorney. Do not attempt to speak for us.” Carol’s tone was firm.
“You’re making a bad decision.” His voice had turned from pleasant to cold.
“Goodbye, Mr. Henley.” Carol nodded at her sister who ended the call.
Clay shut off the recording. “We should talk.”
“I’ll get back to folding clothes,” Sue Ellen said.
“I came to speak with you both.”
“Then come to the kitchen and have a seat.”
Clay followed the ladies to the kitchen and again passed on a bite to eat. Once he had their attention, he repeated his conversation with Nate. “Just as we expected, Vega Industries traces back to Carlos Vega. You should be ready for him to push back.”
“He’s not just dangerous, he’s evil!” Carol wrapped her arms around her waist. “Some of the stories that came across the news desk had to be severely edited in order to air them.”
“Are you suggesting that he might kill us if we don’t sell to him?” Sue Ellen’s voice had gone up an octave with each word.
Both women looked at Clay. Fear filled their eyes as they waited for his answer. No way could he lie to them. “I don’t know. That he offered more money tells me he’s determined.”
“I’ll bet Rick Henley was working for that bastard Vega from the beginning.” Carol had shifted to anger. “He should be disbarred.”
“Nobody has made any threats or broken the law. So we just wait for their next move?” Sue Ellen asked. “What do we do?”
“Legally nothing.” Clay got up and paced. “If you stand firm, there’s a chance that Vega Industries will find a new property that fits their use, but I seriously doubt it.”
Sue Ellen stood. “The wash won’t fold itself.”
Clay rose and turned to Carol. “She’s scared.”
“We should be. This is my fault. I should have immediately questioned the Vega name, but I just scanned everything she sent me. Let the lawyers handle this was my mantra.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You know that old saying; the horse is out of the barn. Now we fix things.”
They walked back to the Christmas tree, and she pulled a long string of tangled lights from a box. Holding them out for Clay to take one end, he saw tears fill her eyes.
“We have a mess on our hands,” she said. Her voice was as soft as when she’d calmed the mare.
She wasn’t referring to the lights, so he took them from her and placed them on the couch. He was about to take a chance that could go really well or very wrong. He opened his arms and waited.
“Clay,” she whispered, walking straight to him. Her hands went around his waist, and she rested her head on his chest.
He closed his eyes and held her close. Tight. Pressed her against his body. Allowed his skin to feel her warmth. How could you fall in love so hard, that many years later it was still this true and strong? He’d had other women but never loved anyone else.
“Too long,” he murmured into her hair. “It’s been too long since I held you in my arms.”
He had no idea how long they stood there, neither daring to move or interrupt the moment. When she slid her hands from his waist up to his arms, he stepped back.
“I won’t let anything happen to you or Sue Ellen. You know that, right?”
“Yes. I do.”
“Then grab one end of that string of lights and hang on while I unravel them.”
The comfortable, easy movement of readying Christmas lights for the tree relaxed them both. It felt as if they’d never been apart. They talked about high school friends, his practice, and her work while they decorated. She had no idea if he’d ever helped decorate for any holiday with any woman, and she didn’t care. That could wait for another day.
“I’d forgotten how content I am when I’m here. How much I love this place.”
The need to kiss her traveled though his body. “I should go.”
“Why? We still have to finish the tree.”
“Because if I don’t, I’m going to kiss you,” he said for the second since she’d come home.
“Don’t let me stop you.”
Clay pulled her into his arms, lowered his head, and then covered her lips with his. This was a soft gentle hello. He lifted his head and did it again; only this time her lips parted giving him access to her mouth. She smelled like Christmas and tasted like heaven. He ended the kiss, leaving her with something to think about.
Chapter 4
Carlos Vega slammed his cell phone down on his desk. His lit cigar flew off the ash tray and landed on the carpet. Ashes scattered, settling across the high gloss shine of the mahogany surface.
“Fucking whores.” He stood shoved his chair back and pointed to the mess. “Get that cleaned up,” Carlos instructed.
“Si, jefe.” The girl was in motion seconds after he spoke. He studied her for a minute. What was her name? Did he want to know? Not at all. Virgins were his favorite, and this one couldn’t make that claim anymore. When she finished, Carlos nodded to Ramon, who grabbed the puta and dragged her from the room.
Carlos walked over and studied the topographic map spread across the conference sized table. His blood pressure was rising faster than his expenses on this project.
Ramon returned, opening the door partway. “The asesino is here. Want him to come in?”
“In a minute.”
“You want construction stopped?”
Carlos caught Ramon’s gaze and held it, biting back the urge to shoot him for such a stupid question. “No. I want you to find out how these sisters learned that I didn’t give a shit about operating their ranch. I am bleeding money and time. The project must be completed in order to honor commitments I have made.”
“I will see to it this person dies.”
“Do that.” Carlos nodded. “Show the kid in.”
A few minutes later, a baby-faced young man entered. Tall and thin, his dark eyes reminded Carlos of a dead man’s. Enrique Ortega was new to the business, but he came with good credentials. He’d already earned the reputation that he enjoyed his work. Carlos wanted to see if the young man could be useful in other ways too. He motioned Enrique to join him.
“You have something for me?” The kid took silent steps across the floor.
“Ramon told you about my project?”
Enrique shrugged. “I heard you ran into a problem.”
“You heard right. I spent a great deal of money searching for the right location, and this piece of property will open a lane for shipments that will move a lot of product faster and safer. I will put feeder pens right here and grain silos here.” He stabbed a spot on the map with his finger. “It’s important that trucks coming and going become a common sight.” Carlos rolled up the map revealing a second one with more detail. “The sisters who own this property are refusing to be reasonable.”
“You want me to kill them?” Enrique’s shoulders lifted as if he was bored.
“No.” Carlos was constantly amazed at how people did not think ahead. “If they are both dead, the property will stay tied up in the legal system for years. First, the sisters must be encouraged to sell, and one must live. Use your imagination.”
“Accidents are a common thing around a ranch.”
“Exactly.”
The kid turned and left the room. Ramon walked back in, looking over his shoulder. “That is one coldblooded motherfucker.”
****
Carol grabbed a horse halter and lead rope, pulled the cap Sue Ellen had loaned her over her ears and began her search. She called Pete as she walked. The gelding was always first in line for his share of breakfast and when he hadn’t turned up, she’d volunteered to go find him. She’d walked a few hundred feet when she spotted him lying on his side, his thick winter red coat standing out against the dry brown grass. Carol ran, shouting Pete’s
name into the biting wind. She fished out her phone and dialed Clay’s clinic.
Milly’s voice came on the line. “Hudson Veterinary Clinic.”
“This is Carol Penny. Tell Clay I have a horse down. I’m trying to get him up and into the barn.”
“He’s a couple of miles from you. I’ll have him there in a few minutes.” The line went dead.
Pete made a soft chuffing sound as he rallied enough to stand. She didn’t try to put the halter on him; instead, she slipped the rope around his neck. She had to get him inside out of the cold. He wobbled as if drunk, but responded to her gentle pull.
“It’s okay. We’ll go slowly.”
Sue Ellen stood at the back of the barn, holding the door open.
Step by step, Carol led Pete toward shelter, allowing him to stop and gather himself when necessary. She walked next to him as if she could hold his weight if he went down. By the time they’d reached the barn, Sue Ellen had shuffled horses around, emptying the closest stall. Pete stumbled inside and immediately stuck his head in the water trough.
Clay’s slid his truck to a stop and ran to them. “Talk to me,” he said as he went in the stall with Pete.
“He can barely stand. And is drinking water like he’s been in a race.”
Clay checked Pete’s temperature and heart and then moved the stethoscope to his stomach. He lifted Pete’s upper lip. He pressed two fingers against Pete’s gums. “His gums are off color. Have you changed his feed?”
“No. He eats the same thing all the horses do.”
“Could be colic. If it’s his liver that’s a bigger problem. I’ll tube him. Expedite flushing out anything in his stomach. I’ll take a blood sample but in the meantime, I’ll give him a shot of neostigmine to be on the safe side.”
Clay went to his truck and brought his equipment inside. Two hours later, Pete seemed to have turned the corner. He was weak, but he’d stopped drinking water like he was dying of thirst. Clay had checked the feed barrels and the hay for anything that might have caused Pete’s illness.
He handed Carol her coat. “Show me where you found Pete.”
They walked into the chilling weather and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. She guided him to the spot. “This is about right.”
Clay released her and walked in a circle around the area, widening the loop while keeping his gaze on the ground. He reached down and picked up something.
“Tomatoes will make a horse sick and most horses won’t eat them.”
“Don’t look at me like that. We know better than to feed potatoes and or tomatoes.”
“There a lot of seeds, stems, and pieces scattered across the ground here. None of the other horses have displayed any symptoms?”
“No, but Pete pees on hay to keep the other horses from eating it. The he goes back and eats it later. Maybe he peed on the tomatoes.”
Clay shook his head. “That habit may have saved his life. It looks like somebody intentionally threw the tomatoes into the pasture. You should call the sheriff.”
Again he snuggled her under his arm on the walk back to the barn. They stopped and checked on Pete, who was munching on hay. Carol reached in and stroked the horse’s muzzle while she filled in Sue Ellen on what Clay found.
“Then this was deliberate.” Sue Ellen pulled her cell out of her pocket.
“We agree. I’ll call the sheriff.”
“That’s a good idea.”
Sue Ellen spoke on the phone for a few minutes, hung up and said. “Blake’s on his way. I promised him a cup of coffee would be waiting on him.” She left the barn and returned to the house.
“I still have trouble thinking of Blake Carson as the sheriff,” Clay said. “But he’s doing a good job.”
“Has he gotten fat and bald?” Carol pulled off her gloves.
“Neither, but he did get married.”
She caught Clay’s face in her hands. “You’re cold.”
“I won’t be for long.” His lips covered hers.
The kiss by the Christmas tree had been a long, get reacquainted kiss. This time his tongue swept inside her mouth, lighting a fire that burned all the way to the bottom of her feet. Her knees had almost folded under her when he stepped back.
“Thanks. I needed that,” he said.
Confusion swirled in her mind. He’d always held a special place in her heart, but that had been a long time ago. “Can we go back in time? Is that what we’re doing?”
“I hope to hell not. That had us going separate ways.”
“Right.” She squirmed under his scrutiny. “Let’s go inside where it’s warm.”
Carol helped her sister carry cups and a plate of cookies to the living room while Clay put a log on the fire. She was proud of their decorations. The room looked like a Christmas card with its ceramic knick knacks, candles, and her grandmother’s nativity scene on the mantle.
“The sheriff is going to think we’re having a party instead of reporting a possible crime,” Clay said.
Sirens blasted through the air as the sheriff’s car roared down the driveway.
“That’s a bit of a dramatic arrival, isn’t it?” Carol asked. She opened the front door and the obvious smell of burning grass filled the room.
“Fire,” the sheriff called out as he ran toward the barn. Smoke rolled through the sky in the high wind.
Carol ran to the storage barn and grabbed two water hoses that had been rolled up and put away for the winter. Clay disappeared into the barn, and by the time she lugged the hoses out in the drive, Blake and Sue Ellen were there to grab them.
“Fire department is on its way.” Blake said as Sue Ellen showed him where a faucet was located.
Carol dragged the second hose inside the barn where Clay had turned on the one he’d used minutes ago and was wetting the back side of the building down.
The dry pasture grass was burning rapidly and with the wind out of the north, it was headed straight for the barn and house. Lucky for them the sheriff’s timely arrival had given them the time to get the fire under control before the fire trucks arrived. Before they left, the firefighters had ensured there were no embers left alive.
At the end of the day, everything was quiet. Reports had been filed, the coffee pot emptied, and she, Sue Ellen, and Clay sat on the porch steps too tired or too numb to notice the bitter cold.
“This is the worse winter we’ve had in years. I hope it doesn’t get worse.” Sue Ellen groaned as she stood. “I’m going inside. Thank you for your help, Clay.”
“My pleasure.” Clay stood and stared at the sky. “You should go inside too. Are you up for a drive tomorrow morning?”
“Sure. Where are we going?”
“Dallas. I think you need to meet my friend, Nate Wolfe.”
****
Enrique drove to his motel, satisfied that he’d gotten the message across. He didn’t know if the horse had died and didn’t care. The fire had been an afterthought, but effective. The wind had blown a piece of newspaper at his feet, so he’d lit it, and then watched as the dry grass gobbled up the flame. Tomorrow, Carlos could extend a new offer to buy the ranch. If that didn’t work, he’d pick one sister and kill her. His brand new Savage 110 Police and Military Tactical Sniper rifle with a bull barrel and red field scope fired a .223 caliber bullet. It was waiting in the trunk, and he was itching to try it out.
****
Carol wasn’t prepared for the Lost and Found compound. She’d envisioned a strip center with a small office and a couple of men at desks behind the darkened windows. Obviously, she’d been watching too many old movies. The main gate was all that was exposed to the public eye and a man wearing a dark green t-shirt and pants stopped them at the gate.
“Good thing I called ahead,” Clay said with a chuckle. “Nate wasn’t exaggerating when he said the business had done well.” Clay rolled down his window. “Clay Hudson and Carol Penny to see Nate Wolfe.”
“Yes, sir. May I see some identification?”
Cla
y fished out his wallet and handed the man his driver’s license.
“Thank you.” The man retuned the ID. “Take the first fork to the right. It will take you to the office.”
The office was an understatement. The two-story building was huge. Red brick with oversized glass windows sparkled under the winter sun. Two smaller structures sat to the side. A man was inside a large fenced area playing ball with a dog.
“Did you happen to ask how much your friend charged for his services?”
“No.”
A tall, sandy haired man stepped out the front door and walked to Clay’s side of the pickup, ending the conversation about money. He got out and the two shook hands and hugged, pounding each other so hard Carol realized she never wanted to be hugged quite that much. She got out of the truck and waited, enjoying the show of emotion between the two men.
“Carol?”
A beautiful woman walked toward them. On her hip rode a curly haired baby, whose hands were both waving hello. Carol left the two men talking and joined the woman.
“Carol Penny. Who is this handsome guy?”
“This is Kevin Wolfe and I’m Kay. Let’s go inside. Those two will be out here talking smack for a while.” The little boy gurgled and held his arms out.
“May I hold him?”
“If you’re sure. He drools on everything.”
Carol took Kevin from his mother and followed her inside. He curled his hand into her hair as they entered a large room. Ten cushioned chairs surrounded the oval conference table. A whiteboard and a television took up almost one entire wall. One short wall was covered in monitors, the screens were constantly moving, she assumed to different parts of the compound.
She pulled one chair away from the table, sat, and rocked Kevin in her arms. His tiny body relaxed and he yawned. Slowly his eyes closed. “He’s beautiful.”
“You’re a miracle worker,” Kay said. “He’s teething and no one has been able to calm him down. Want me to put him to bed?”
“Oh no. He’s fine right here.” Carol smoothed her hand over his forehead. “Tell me about this Wolfe’s Pack.”
“There’s not a lot to tell. Nate started the company with the help of a couple of old college buddies. Marcus Ricci and Tyrell Castillo are partners now. Ty lives in Bolivia with his wife and handles cases from there. We’ve added Dalton Murphy and Tank Jorgenson plus seven fairly new members. One of Wolfe’s Pack, as I dubbed them back during our college days, runs a ranch a couple of hours from here, but he’s still part of the family. A lot of our work is for the government but Nate has held fast to his reason for forming Lost and Found, Inc. We help people with problems. Whether it’s finding a missing person or protecting somebody from harm, we’re there.” Kay’s cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry. That sounded like a public service announcement. Truth is we’re a family. Blood or not, we’re a unit.”
A Helluva Holiday Page 4