Falcon's Run

by Aimée Thurlo

  “Gorman has other problems, too, including substance abuse, so it was just a matter of time. One of the reasons his chef quit was because he wasn’t getting a regular paycheck. Gorman was on a downward spiral. He’ll at least have a chance to get clean in jail. They have a rehab program now,” Preston added. “On the surface it doesn’t look like there’s a connection to Carl.”

  “But you’re still not convinced?” Rod asked.

  “Let’s just say I’m keeping an open mind,” Preston said.

  As Abby walked away down the hall, she received a call from Michelle, who was at the ranch.

  “I thought you’d want to know that we’ve received the horse Gene Redhouse donated. Kyle Goodluck, Detective Bowman’s brother, just dropped him off.”

  “We have a stall in the barn prepared for Red, so put him in there and let him get settled. Could you come in early tomorrow? We need to hold a meeting. Tell the volunteers who are there tonight to come, too, if they can. I’ll call the rest of our regulars once I get back.”

  As Abby headed to her truck, she thought about tomorrow’s meeting. Would they continue to respect her judgment or lose faith in her, thinking she was unrealistic and a hopeless optimist? Yet, it was precisely her ability to believe in people and herself that had helped make the ranch a reality.

  As she thought of her staff, Abby turned and walked back to the station. She could use some support. Moments later, she found Preston still in his office at his computer.

  “I’d like to ask you a favor,” she said as she knocked on the open door.

  He waved at her to have a seat. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

  “Would you come to the ranch tomorrow morning, say, seven? I’d like you to tell the staff about Carl—that he’d paid his dues and hadn’t been in trouble since. As a cop, that’ll carry more weight coming from you,” she said and explained why she was concerned. “To believe in the ranch, they need to trust me.”

  He met her gaze and held it. For a moment it felt as if he were looking straight into her soul. Did he feel the magic building between them? Did he know the way he affected her?

  After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded. “All right.”

  Hearing a commotion outside, he stood. “Come on, I’ll walk you out. It sounds like one of our uniforms is bringing in someone who has had too much to drink.”

  She fell into step beside him as they crossed the parking lot. “My work has some very sad moments but, by and large, it’s about making things better. Things stay upbeat most of the time,” she said. “Your work has got to be so much harder than mine. How do you deal with the pressure that comes with being a homicide cop?”

  “To me, it’s all about preserving the balance between good and evil. As a Navajo, I believe that everything has two sides. Evil needs good to define it, and good is needed to keep evil in check. I’m here to make sure harmony is restored.”

  As they reached her truck, she glanced over at him. Preston stood tall, his wide shoulders thrown back. Everything about him was solid and unwavering. No matter how tough the circumstances, he was the kind of man who could be relied on.

  There was just something about him that inspired confidence and as she looked at him, she knew the future of her ranch was in good hands.

  * * *

  PRESTON SET OUT to Abby’s first thing the following morning. He was nearly there when Gabe Sanchez from the crime scene unit called.

  “You’re at it early,” Preston said.

  “Figured you’d want answers as soon as possible.”

  “You got that right.”

  “I’ve got preliminaries for you,” Gabe said. “There were traces of the vic’s blood and hair on the blade of a shovel we found near the barn, but the absence of blood in the horse pen tends to indicate that he wasn’t killed there. He was struck somewhere else, then moved to that corral afterward.”

  “Yeah, that matches up with the fact that someone went to a lot of trouble to hide his or her footprints.”

  “We also checked the gambling tokens and tickets you found. The prints were smudged, but the few identifying characteristics we found didn’t match the vic’s.”

  “Interesting. Looks like the killer may have planted those. It’s possible Carl may have been killed around the bunkhouse, judging from the time of death, then moved to the pen to mislead the investigation. The extra blood could have been scooped up and buried somewhere else,” Preston said. “It’s time for me to take a closer look at the staff. This may have been an inside job.”

  As Preston hung up, he considered the possibility that Abby had an enemy in her ranks. The killer could be someone she trusted, and that was bound to make things tougher. Her fierce loyalty to her staff, judging by the way she’d kept Carl’s secret, might blind her to danger.

  Abby was more vulnerable than she realized. As a homicide cop, he worked long hours and spent a lot of time alone, but his brothers were there for him, day or night, and just a phone call away. From what he’d seen, Abby had no close friends or family.

  Preston prided himself on being a tough cop, as hard as any on the force, and that was because he never brought emotions into the picture. As he pulled into Sitting Tall Ranch and saw Abby stop to pet a horse, something told him that was all about to change.

  * * *

  WHILE THE STAFF gathered for the meeting, which had been delayed ten minutes, Preston saw his brother Kyle standing just inside the office door.

  Preston took him aside. “Did you decide to volunteer here?”

  “Yeah. I came by this morning to check on Red and offer my services. I figured you could use an additional pair of eyes and ears here. I’ve already introduced myself to some of the volunteers and met an accountant named Stan Cooper. Turns out Stan didn’t care for Carl at all. He said the man worked hard, but there was something about him he never trusted.”

  “Interesting,” Preston said.

  Just then Abby stepped to the front of the room. Preston and Kyle stayed back, keeping an eye on the others gathered there.

  “We all have private lives,” Abby said, telling them about Carl’s past. “Carl told me who he really was and asked for a chance to prove himself. I gave him one and he never let me down.”

  As Preston stepped forward all eyes turned to him. “Ms. Langdon is right about Carl. From everything I’ve been able to find out, the man had cleaned up his act. It’s important to remember, too, that he was the victim of a crime, not the perpetrator.”

  After Preston finished speaking, a photo of Carl appeared on the small TV screen in the corner of the room. The sound had been muted, but Michelle, who’d obviously glanced over, pointed. “Hey, look! What’s that all about?”

  Abby turned up the volume, stepped back and listened to Marsha Robertson’s news segment.

  “Though well liked and respected at Sitting Tall Ranch, where he took care of the animals, it appears that Carl Woods, aka Carl Sinclair, had a hidden past. Our source has verified that he was a convicted art thief who served a four-year prison sentence. There’s speculation that Sinclair may have been keeping other secrets which might have led to his murder.”

  “How did they find out so soon?” Abby asked, looking back at Preston.

  “I was afraid this would happen,” he said. “I saw Marsha Robertson at the station earlier. She has sources everywhere.”

  Abby sat down on the corner of her desk and faced the gathering. “Although this is bound to make things worse, you should all know that the backlash against the ranch started even before that news segment. I checked my email first thing this morning and found out that the 4-H kids who volunteer here won’t be returning for a while. Their parents and the 4-H sponsors are insisting they stay away until this matter is resolved. That means we’ll have to set up new feeding schedules and split up the work among the
rest of us.”

  Preston nodded, pleased with her reaction. Though kicked while down, she’d gotten right back up. She was a fighter. All she needed was a hand, and he intended to do all he could to help her.

  Chapter Nine

  After the staff meeting was over, Michelle came up to Abby. “Can I talk to you privately for a moment?”

  Somehow this sounded like more bad news. Ignoring the knot in her stomach, Abby smiled. “Sure. What’s up?”

  “I’ve had some cash flow problems lately and I’m behind on some of my bills. Miller’s Horse Farm won’t let me use their facilities until I get caught up, so I’d like to make you a trade. I’ll add fifteen volunteer hours to my regular work schedule here if you’ll let me use one of the arenas for my weekly riding classes. I’ll work around the ranch’s schedule, of course.”

  “I could use the help, so it sounds doable,” she said, “but there’s something I need to know. How come you’re in trouble financially? What happened?”

  “It’s nothing bad, Abby, so don’t worry. I just got in over my head when I bought a new horse trailer. Now the payments are eating me alive.”

  Abby smiled. “Okay. I was that way, too, when I started buying tack for the animals.”

  As they walked outside, Abby heard the sound of a big engine in the parking lot. A tow truck was backing up to the ranch’s pickup, and two men were standing by the driver’s-side door, which was open.

  “Hey! Get away from my truck!” Abby yelled, then broke into a run.

  Abby heard footsteps behind her. Turning her head for a second she saw Preston almost catching up to her. Michelle was right behind him.

  “What’s going on?” Preston asked, matching her speed.

  “Those men are trying to steal my truck!”

  He slowed to a walk as they approached the tow truck. “These guys are from a repo company, Abby. You behind on your payments?”

  “No chance,” Abby said. “Stan handles all those details for me and he would have told me if there was a problem.”

  “Hang back and let me check things out for you. These guys are trouble. I’ve been called to deal with them before,” Preston said.

  Kyle came up beside him. “Got your back, bro.”

  Preston went to the men by the tow truck. “Before you hook anything up, let me see your paperwork.”

  “Butt out, Indian. The lady’s a freeloader. She’s missed three loan payments in a row, and we’re duly authorized to take the truck.” He waved a manila folder full of papers.

  “That’s just not true,” Abby said, her hands on her hips. “If there had been a problem, the bank would have notified the ranch. You’ve got the wrong address and the wrong truck.”

  “Save the story, lady. We’ve heard it all,” the big guy said. The other two men came around to stand beside him. One was holding a length of tow chain.

  “I’m telling you the truth—and you’re not taking my truck,” Abby said, stepping up to the man. “There’s been some kind of mistake. Let me talk to the bank. I’m sure I can clear this up in five minutes.” She reached out for the folder, but he pulled it away.

  “Too late. We’re taking the pickup. Next time make your payments,” he said, then laughed and threw the folder full of papers at her.

  “I’m a police officer,” Preston said, instantly getting into the man’s face.

  The two other men stepped forward. One tried to grab Preston by the arm, but Kyle hurled himself at the guy, tackling him to the ground.

  As they fought, the other guy took a swing at Preston. Blocking the punch, Preston grabbed the man’s extended arm and bent it inward at the elbow until the guy fell to his knees in agony.

  The big guy took advantage of the situation and grabbed Abby, holding her arms by the wrists far enough away so she couldn’t kick him. Abby tried to twist free, but he tightened his hold.

  “Back off, you two,” he snapped. “Let go of my crew.”

  Preston held his hands up and stepped back, then suddenly shoved the guy he’d been fighting in the chest with the palm of his hand, knocking him straight into the leader. As the two collided, Abby twisted free and the big man fell to the ground.

  Kyle still had the third guy pinned, but the one Preston had shoved whirled around, throwing a roundhouse punch. Preston ducked, kneed the man in the groin and drew his weapon before the leader could react.

  “You’re all under arrest,” Preston snapped. “Down on your knees.”

  “We are within our rights taking this truck,” the leader said, putting his hands in the air.

  “We’ll have to verify that. But whatever the case, you’ve assaulted a police officer and a civilian, a woman half your size. You’re facing charges, so don’t push your luck.”

  “There are two patrol officers on the way,” Abby said, holding up her cell phone, signaling she’d dialed 911.

  Preston and Kyle, intending to turn the trio over to the uniformed cops when they arrived, escorted the men to the front gate. The suspect in handcuffs led the way while the other two, hands locked behind their heads, followed.

  “Consider carrying extra sets of cuffs while you’re working this case, bro,” Kyle said.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  After the men were taken to the station, Preston went to Abby’s office. She was just hanging up the phone. “I spoke to Stan. He said it was a glitch in the software. He’s got an automatic payment set up, but he thinks it may have gone into someone else’s account. He’ll get things straightened out in the next hour or so.”

  “Abby, what were you thinking?” Preston demanded. “You shouldn’t have argued with that guy. He outweighed you by at least one hundred pounds.”

  “I knew you’d be there to back me up. You asked me to trust you, remember?” she asked. “So I did.”

  “She’s got your number,” Kyle said, chuckling.

  * * *

  PRESTON stood alone with Kyle in the nearly empty bull pen at the station. It was close to noon now and Abby was still giving her statement to the clerk.

  “So what’s the deal with you and Abby Langdon? Are you seriously interested in her?” Kyle asked.

  “No interest other than professional. She needs a hand and I’m in a position to help. Nothing more.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  Preston started to answer when Abby came up to him. “May I speak to you for a moment?”

  “Sure,” he said, then glanced back at Kyle. “Thanks for the help, bro.”

  “No problem,” Kyle said and strode off.

  “All the paperwork is done and I’ve signed my statement,” Abby said as they walked down the hall toward Preston’s office.

  “Good. You won’t be seeing those guys again anytime soon. They’ll be spending the night in jail, then they’ll be facing a judge tomorrow.”

  “That’s one less worry for me tonight,” she said.

  “What’s bothering you?”

  “I’ve been wondering if it’s really safe for me to stay at the ranch alone at night. If I’m sound asleep, I may not hear a problem until it’s too late. The killer is still out there.”

  The worried smile she gave him tore at his guts.

  “I’m not a coward,” she added quickly.

  “I know you’re not. You’re just dealing with something that’s part of my world, not yours.”

  “I’ve faced tough situations before but never anything like this.” She shook her head
. “How do I handle it?”

  “Step back and don’t let things overwhelm you. I’ll find the killer. That’s what I do best.”

  Seeing her shudder, he had to fight the urge to pull her into his arms. They were at the station and acting on that urge was a bad idea. What he could do was keep her company for a little longer.

  “I’m going to grab a hamburger across the street,” he said. “Join me?”

  She glanced at her watch and shook her head. “I’d like to, but I’ve got to go back. I have to meet with Stan and go over the quarterly reports.” She paused, then smiled. “But here’s what I can do. Why don’t you meet me this evening for dinner? I make one mean green chile cheeseburger and it’ll be my way of saying thanks for being there for me today.”

  “Just doing my job,” he said.

  “No, you’ve gone above and beyond.”

  As she looked up and he saw himself reflected in the softness of her eyes, heat flashed through him, hot and strong.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what. I’ll come early, help you with the livestock, then we’ll eat,” he said, trying to get his mind back on the right track. He didn’t need physical distractions like this. Entanglements had never turned out well for him, probably because he didn’t trust the emotions that went along with them.

  “Can I recruit your help fixing dinner, too?”

  He laughed. “Hey, I think I’m getting a raw deal there.”

  “Nah, I just want you to help me make sure there are no leftovers,” she said with a smile.

  “Then I’m your man.” As he spoke, he knew instantly that it had been a poor choice of words. Something flashed in her eyes and the attraction between them surged to a new level. What the hell was he getting into?

  Chapter Ten

  The rest of the day had gone by quickly. Stan had straightened things with the bank and had made out their proposed quarterly budget. If donations didn’t hold steady, things promised to get tough.