Not that he’d had any women in exactly the same way in the past. Rather, he’d had temporary companions, who’d hitched along for the ride until one of them got tired of being together—most of the time him. Lucky was certain that wasn’t JoJo’s style. And he feared that he’d started something that couldn’t be stopped.
“None of your women ever had so much bad luck in such a short time before,” Eli clarified. “Yesterday it was Bushwhacker, now this missing-horse business. It is just bad luck, right?”
“Could be.”
When he didn’t elaborate, Eli set himself down in a leather chair and stretched out. “I got all the time in the world.”
Eli could be a stubborn son of a mule, so Lucky admitted, “Her horse came back. Vincent said the reins were torn up—that the mare was strong enough to pull free.”
“And you didn’t believe it.”
“I checked the reins over myself,” Lucky admitted. “The leather was ragged. Mostly. But the edges looked different. Smoother.”
“Like someone took a knife to ’em?”
“Like that,” Lucky agreed.
“You tell the woman?”
He shook his head. He should have, no doubt. But he’d had too much going around in his mind to think clearly. Including JoJo. What to think about what had happened between them. What to do about her now.
“Probably for the best,” Eli said.
Startling Lucky. “Why?”
“You tell her too much, you’ll spook her good.”
“Too late to stop that from happening,” he said, remembering how scared JoJo had been. Her fright had driven her into his arms, he was certain.
“Then why hasn’t she packed her bags and skedaddled?”
Was Eli just asking or did he sound disappointed? Lucky stared at the man he called a friend. Surely Eli couldn’t have taken his earlier complaints about JoJo to heart….
“You wouldn’t know anything about those reins being cut, would you?”
“Lucky, you and me are like this,” Eli said, holding two fingers together. “We each know how the other thinks.”
Right. Once a con man, always a con man. Lucky knew Eli would never get grifting completely out of his system. But that didn’t make him dangerous.
“Then you didn’t try to get rid of JoJo because you knew I wanted her gone?”
Eli barked a laugh. “If I thought you needed help handling a woman, I’d find myself another partner.”
Lucky laughed, too, and felt the tension start to drain out of him.
Until he realized that Eli hadn’t said no.
A HOT SHOWER, a bowl of chili and she was ready to rock ’n’ roll.
JoJo stood staring at the bedroom doors in the wing opposite hers and made her choice—Rocky Franzone’s room first. The current residents had barely been gone for thirty minutes. She had at least an hour, more likely two. She planned on putting the time to good use, though she had no clue as to what to look for. She was working blind.
Thankful the doors locked only from the inside, she entered Rocky’s bedroom and flipped on the light.
She’d already faced the fact that someone had been trying to create an unfortunate accident for her. Other than Caroline, all the other people staying at the ranch were strangers. Including Lucky. And while she wasn’t about to discount Caroline, she didn’t want to overlook any possible suspects—she had reason to doubt just about everyone but Flora and Eli.
The room was neat, the drawers empty but for some underwear and socks. A single suitcase—a big duffel, really—sat at the bottom of the closet beneath a pair of jeans and a clean shirt. Nothing suspicious but the lack of clothes. Rocky was traveling light when he’d talked about being in the area to get a job.
Actually, Rocky had talked about hooking up with a friend to get a job wrangling when he couldn’t even sit a horse properly. By contrast, Paula rode as if she’d had years of professional—and expensive—training. She definitely was capable of having ridden to Rimrock and back to the ranch pretty quickly. As was Adair, who’d been evasive about being part of the Call of the West movie shoot in the ghost town.
JoJo entered Paula Gibson’s room next. The other woman had brought enough clothes for a month. She checked the labels on some of the fancier garments and recognized a couple of the names. Just as she’d suspected. Designer clothes on a secretary’s salary? Not highly likely. Still, Paula had been married until recently, and her husband could have been well enough off to afford Paula’s expensive tastes.
Before leaving the room, JoJo checked a magazine on the nightstand that stood open to an advertisement about a summer horse auction in Virginia. She flipped to the cover. Hunter Jumper. The issue was from the previous month…and had been mailed to P. Carbury at a Miller Valley, Maryland, address. Either a friend had sent Paula the issue, or some tourist had left it where Paula had spotted and confiscated it. All the magazine did was confirm the woman’s interest in English riding.
Refusing to be discouraged, JoJo proceeded to Adair Keating’s room. His clothes were of good quality and a quantity between that of Rocky and Paula. What she hoped to find in his dresser drawers was some sign that he was a stuntman—either résumés or glossy photos that would confirm he’d been working on a movie as stated.
But from beneath his silk underwear, JoJo pulled an item that made her heart trip a beat. Her skin crawled at she stared at the hated object.
Why did Adair have a gun?
Chapter Nine
JoJo’s mind roiled with the discovery of the lethal-looking handgun. If those noises that startled Spitfire that initial day had been gunshots, this might be the firing weapon. Adair had been the first of the paying guests to arrive at the ranch, she realized. As a matter of fact, he’d been in the house when she’d come back from that ride.
Could he have set off those shots, then taken up residence to lie in wait for her?
If so…why?
She recounted the Bushwhacker incident. While Paula and Rocky had gone off together, Adair had sprawled on the couch as if he’d intended on taking a nap. But had he? Or had he taken the opportunity to lock her inside an enclosure with a dangerous bull?
JoJo wrestled between returning the handgun to its drawer and confiscating it. If Adair noticed the weapon was gone…She didn’t want to give him the advantage of knowing she was on to him, just in case he was the guilty one.
How to tell if the weapon had been fired recently?
She quickly figured out how to pull the magazine from the handle, then experienced a letdown when she found all of the bullets nestled snugly in place. Of course, Adair could have finished off one round, then replaced the clip.
On impulse, she emptied the magazine, popping one bullet at a time and stuffing them into her pants pockets. At least she could render the weapon temporarily useless. Just in case. Feeling better—a bit safer—she replaced the handgun, careful to hide it under the silk underwear exactly as she’d found it.
Now, what to do about Adair? How could she figure out whether or not he was the one to have instigated those accidents? And why? What motive could he possibly have for wanting her hurt or worse?
From the moment he’d arrived, Adair had been superfriendly. He’d insisted they have dinner together the first night, had tried to make plans with her for the next day. She’d put him off, telling him she preferred being alone, then had gone and gotten herself involved with Lucky. Adair hadn’t been blind to the fact, either.
Some sort of insane jealousy as a motive? That didn’t wash, because he hadn’t known her before coming to the ranch.
Or had he?
JoJo remembered thinking he looked familiar, and he had admitted to being in Las Vegas for a few days before the movie shoot. Though what that had to do with anything, she didn’t know.
Her mind spun with the possibilities, but JoJo found it impossible to draw any certain conclusion, so she slipped back into the hall, thinking she’d better take full advantage of having the hous
e to herself.
Only two rooms left if she cared to search them— Caroline’s and Lucky’s.
She already knew Caroline better than she wanted to. Lucky’s sister had reasons for disliking her. JoJo didn’t have to prove that. So what would be the point other than to look for a weapon? Reason enough, she guessed.
But a thorough exploration turned up nothing revealing.
How weird. Caroline had a motive of sorts. But it was Adair who had means and opportunity.
Searching Lucky’s room presented JoJo with mixed feelings. On the one hand, the man had saved her life, so she felt she should be able to trust him—she had trusted him enough to make love with him, after all. On the other hand, Eli’s telling her about Lucky’s going to jail for almost killing a man had jerked her emotions around.
Could Lucky be psychotic, trying to get rid of her with one hand, saving her with the other?
JoJo didn’t know what to think…other than being certain that she needed to learn as much about Lucky Donatelli as she could.
Reluctantly, she entered the room that wasn’t so different from hers but for the bolder color scheme.’ Her hands felt like ice, her feet like lead. She wandered about, looking but not touching. After so brazenly searching everyone else’s room, she felt doing the same with Lucky’s would be an unnecessary invasion of his privacy. Her instincts told her that he meant her no bodily harm.
But she’d been wrong about her instincts before. She’d been too easily duped by Marco Scudella, who’d blinded her with the romance of a whirlwind courtship. He’d been attentive, complimentary and ardent. She’d fallen for the illusion like a babe in the woods.
She’d only known Lucky for four days. Four days of suspicions, altercations and growing lust. How could she be certain that Lucky Donatelli wasn’t every bit as dangerous and unscrupulous as her former fiancé?
Confused and feeling too vulnerable, JoJo hesitated at a chair near the door where Lucky had thrown the clothes he’d been wearing earlier. Unable to resist, she picked up his jeans and took a closer look at his belt buckle. In addition to the bull and rider, the buckle declared him to be the World’s Champion Bull Rider by the Rodeo Cowboys Association. She traded the jeans for the white T-shirt with the sleeves ripped out. The soft cotton against her fingertips mesmerized her into remembering how the cloth had felt draped over his body.
How his body had felt draped over hers.
JoJo closed her eyes and brought the T-shirt to her cheek, inhaling Lucky’s male scent that had surrounded her only hours ago. For a short while lost in the memory of their explosive passion, she was doubly startled by a steely voice that she recognized as his.
“Find everything you need?”
Heart hammering, JoJo dropped the T-shirt. Slowly, keeping control, she turned to face Lucky. “I was just satisfying my curiosity.”
“You mean you were snooping.”
Caught in the act.
Defensive, she said, “Not a nice word.”
“Not a nice thing to do.”
Lucky stood in the doorway, shoulder hunched against the jamb, preventing her escape. His features were harsher than usual.
Throat suddenly dry, she contended, “Look who’s talking—the man who went through my purse to get my wallet.”
“That’s different.”
“Sure it is.”
“I didn’t do it behind your back.”
JoJo didn’t have a return. He was right to be angry. Remorse ate at her. And defiance. Her continued good health—not to mention her life—might be at stake here. Not that she could tell him what she’d been up to for the past hour. Or what she’d found. She’d have to keep her own counsel for a while, until she could figure things out. Self-preservation was more important than a little guilt.
“I’d like to leave now,” she said coolly.
He stepped inside the room, his hand on the door as though he intended to close it. “What if I said no?”
“You are bigger than me.”
“But I don’t scare you?” His gaze dropped down to her throat where her pulse jumped.
“Is that what you want?”
His voice husky, he said, “What I want is to hear you cry out again…in the throes of passion.”
Lucky’s saying it stirred her up inside, made her want the same. He was close, barely a yard away. She could feel the air between them charge. Recognized the instant ache that surged inside her. JoJo fought the sudden lethargy that made her limbs grow weak and her head light. Fought the insistent throbbing between her thighs that reminded her of the tender flesh he’d ravished earlier.
Denying the renewal of desire, she whispered, “Don’t hold your breath.”
He moved closer. “Don’t be so sure you can resist.” He slid a hand around her neck. “This thing between us is potent.” He ran his thumb along the pulse still beating hard against the soft flesh of her throat.
“Stronger than the two of us?” she mocked.
He lifted the hand around her throat slightly, and she automatically rose to her toes. She was aware that he could snap her neck if he so chose….
Or kiss her.
His face was mere inches from hers. So very tempting. Her breath caught in her throat. Her heart thumped against the wall of her chest. Her lips parted. She waited for him to do something. When his gray eyes remained flat, she realized he was merely testing her.
Disappointment made her lower her gaze.
As if knowing she recognized his purpose, Lucky opened his hand, releasing her neck. JoJo swayed toward him, then caught herself before they touched again. He moved around her without so much as brushing her, as if contact were the last thing he wanted.
Before her, the door stood open, inviting her to leave.
“What are you waiting for?” he asked softly.
As she took the first step, JoJo felt an undeniable sadness well in her. After having been so close only a few hours before, they now should be tender and loving with one another. Not distrustful and sarcastic.
Not hateful.
She turned to him. “I’m sorry.” Then hurried out the door before he could reply.
The sound of vehicles pulling up outside warned her the others had returned, and so she raced into her own room and slammed the door. She threw herself across the bed even as voices drifted inside the house. To shut them out, she pulled a pillow over her head.
She was sorry about a lot of things, JoJo thought.
About the emotional state that had brought her here. About the accidents that were no accidents. About the devils that drove Lucky, keeping him from trusting her. About her own inability to trust him.
But she was especially sorry that her affections were getting out of hand, betraying her. For what had started out as simple desire was turning into something far more complex. Something she didn’t want to put a name to.
She couldn’t be falling in love with Lucky Donatelli.
She just couldn’t.
JOJO WESTON didn’t die easily.
How annoying.
She was a fighter. Tough. Clever.
Of course, the cleverness was no surprise—she’d already proved her ability to keep her head no matter her circumstances well before coming to Arizona. Just as she’d already demonstrated her facility for arousing the male protective instinct.
The trait that had sealed her fate.
Subtlety wasn’t working even if nature was cooperating. More-dire measures were called for before the place was swarming with wranglers and new guests.
Time to bring in the reserves.
WAKING UP in the predawn hours the next morning, panicked by dreams of her tryst with Lucky, JoJo couldn’t get back to sleep. What had she done? How could she have been so impulsive? Again.
She wanted to go home. To Las Vegas. And only one thing stood in her way of doing so…unless they’d caught him, of course. Slipping out of her bedroom, she went straight for the telephone and punched out a Las Vegas number, praying it would be s
o.
“Deputy Sheriff Ben Carter speaking.”
“It’s JoJo Weston. Have you found him?”
A big breath on the other end was followed by his “I’m sorry to say Lester Perkins is still at large.”
“Isn’t anyone looking for him?”
“Every available man and woman.”
“Then how could you not find him?” Frustration threatened JoJo’s temper. “He escaped on Saturday, for heaven’s sake. He’s been at large for nearly a week!”
“I can’t say, Miss Weston,” the deputy said calmly. “It’s like he’s disappeared. Vanished. We haven’t even gotten a lead on him. By now, he could be anywhere.”
“Have you checked the Caribbean?” JoJo stared into the dark, remembering. “He held me there in a subbasement. No one goes down there—”
“We already thought of that. No luck.”
“I don’t understand. Lester’s a simple man. How could he elude you for this long? How did he get free to begin with?”
“I guess you’ll be reading about it tomorrow, so no harm in telling you. He had help.”
“Help?” JoJo’s mind raced, but she couldn’t visualize Lester with that loyal a friend. “How so?”
“Lester’s cell mate Deke kept saying he wanted the new nurse. Only there hasn’t been a new nurse in the facility for more than a year. On further questioning, Deke insisted Lester had a new nurse right before he was released.”
“Then he had help from the outside.”
“That’s what we believe.”
“What were the guards doing?”
“One of the night guards was on dinner break. The one at the desk was, uh, asleep. He swears something in his coffee musta put him out. Too late to check on that, of course.”
A nurse had helped Lester. A vision of Caroline in nurse’s whites came automatically to mind. JoJo’s grip on the phone was fierce. “Did Deke describe the woman?”
“The supposed nurse was male, Miss Weston. All Deke can remember is that he was big. Deke’s pretty heavily medicated at night.”
And not very helpful.
JoJo wondered if she’d ever be able to go back to Las Vegas.
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