AK-Cowboy

by Joanna Wayne

  They passed a truck pulling a horse trailer. Troy gave a two-fingered wave without lifting his hand from the steering wheel. “That’s Everett Wilson. He’s one of the unrelenting and unforgiving, crosses the street to keep from speaking to me if our paths are about to intersect in town.”

  “Yet you waved at him,” Tyler noted.

  “Only because I know it irritates him.”

  The perfect opening for the question that preyed on Tyler’s mind. “Why did you return to Mustang Run when you were released from prison?”

  “It’s home. And it seemed the best place for doing what I have to do.”

  “To prove you’re tougher than your critics?”

  When Troy didn’t respond to the question, Tyler turned and studied his profile. The muscles in Troy’s neck were strained, his gaze straight ahead as if he were staring down a tank—or a ghost.

  “I came back to find your mother’s killer.”

  The tone was so defiant that the words were guttural. They ground inside Tyler like grit. Did his father really think that uttering those few words would make a difference?

  “I didn’t kill your mother, Tyler. Whether or not you believe me is up to you. I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I won’t cower in guilt for something I didn’t do.”

  After a few minutes of silence, Troy visibly relaxed his grip on the wheel and glanced toward Tyler. “I didn’t mean to come at you like that. You have a right to answers.”

  Tyler nodded. “I obviously hit a sore spot, but I didn’t come back to start a fight.” At least he didn’t think he had.

  “What made you decide to visit? Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you’re here. It’s that you don’t seem that excited about it.”

  “Dylan and Sean sounded so optimistic that I guess I had to see where I fit in this new family scheme of things.”

  “Where you’ve always fit. You’re my son,” Troy said. “You’re Helene’s son. You’re a Ledger.”

  Right, whether he liked it or not.

  “I tried to get in touch with all you boys when I was in prison,” Troy said. “Your grandparents got a court order forbidding it.”

  “I know. Dylan told me.” And that had been fine with Tyler.

  “Can we just drop this for now?” Tyler said, sorry he’d ever brought it up.

  “Sometimes it’s better to get everything out in the open,” Troy said. “Clears the air. Makes it easier to move on.”

  “Maybe,” Tyler muttered. But he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to move on if that meant just swallowing whatever his dad piled on the plate.

  Talk ceased until the ditched car came into view. Troy slowed and swerved into a U-turn after they’d topped the hill and reached a straight stretch of road. He parked on the shoulder and turned on his emergency lights.

  Tyler stepped out of the truck and walked straight to Julie’s car. His father stopped to study the tire tracks.

  “Lucky she slowed before she veered into the ditch. If she’d slammed into that fence post at the same speed she’d left the highway she could have been seriously injured.”

  “The mud slowed her down,” Tyler said, pointing at the grooves her tires had dug into the wet earth.

  “Yeah, we had a gully washer about midnight last night. Rain didn’t last long, but the thunder rumbled for hours. And then we had a couple of quick showers today.”

  “Julie hit the post hard enough to knock it over. I righted it, but it probably needs to be reset,” Tyler said, remembering the sight that had captured his attention.

  Gorgeous, albeit muddy legs. Slim hips. Perky breasts. Dancing ponytail. Whip-cracking action. A surprise tightening in his groin shocked him back to the situation at hand.

  “This is Bob Adkins’ spread,” Troy said. “I’ll let him know so that he can check it out. He’ll be surprised to hear you’re in town. Probably stop by first chance he gets.”

  “Should I know Bob Adkins?”

  “Probably not, but he remembers all you boys. He’s a good man. Honest. Hardworking. Church goer. The kind of friend who doesn’t tuck tail and run at the first sign of trouble. He’s one of the few who stood by me through it all. Him and Able Drake.”

  Convicted of murdering your wife was a hell of a lot more than a sign of trouble. “Who’s Able Drake?”

  “A good friend from way back. He had his troubles then, but he turned his life around. And he’s stood by me all the way, even spruced up the old ranch house before I got here. Surprised me with this new truck the day I was released.”

  “Hell of a friend,” Tyler agreed. He jumped the ditch to reach the driver-side door of Julie’s car. Surprisingly, it was ajar, though he knew it had not only been closed but locked when they drove away.

  “Someone’s tampered with the car,” he said.

  “Probably looking for something to steal,” Troy said. “Times are changing, even in this part of Texas.”

  Or else someone had been specifically looking for the material she’d had him load into his rental car. Her first words to him had been to ask why he was following her. He’d taken the question as ludicrous, but for all he knew, some nefarious character had been tailing her.

  If so and the bastard had arrived on the scene before Tyler, she’d have had more than harmless cattle to crack her whip at. His apprehension surged when he saw the note attached to the steering wheel. He squinted in the sunlight to make out the words.

  In spite of the scribbled print, the message was clear.

  Someone wanted Julie out of Mustang Run—or dead.

  Chapter Four

  Julie’s fingers tightened on the edges of the note Tyler had handed her.

  Let dead dogs lie, or join them.

  She read it for the third time before dropping the note to the table. “It’s just a threat,” she said, hoping she sounded a lot braver than she felt. “Investigative reporters get them all the time. They don’t mean anything.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Troy said.

  “I say we bag this in plastic and call the sheriff,” Tyler said. “We’ve only touched the top two corners. He may still be able to get a fingerprint off the surface of the paper.”

  “I’ll make a call to the sheriff’s office now,” Troy offered. “They’ll send a deputy out to pick up the note.”

  “No, please. I’ll take care of it,” Julie insisted. “It’s far more likely this is from someone in Louisiana. The Frost investigation is just in the beginning stages. Few people even know I’m considering taking it on.”

  “Do you have a specific someone in mind?” Troy asked.

  “Melody Jinks. This kind of drama overkill is just her style. She thinks she ran me out of New Orleans and she wants to make sure I stay out.”

  “Why would she run you out of New Orleans?” Tyler asked.

  The guy was way too inquisitive. Getting mixed up with him was probably going to prove a big mistake.

  “Long story, but I’ll send the note to a detective I worked with there. He’ll check it out. Believe me, it’s nothing to worry about. I’m totally through with the Louisiana business.”

  Tyler’s stare grew piercing. “Exactly what did this Louisiana case entail?”

  “It’s convoluted and X-rated.” She waved her hand as if to dismiss the subject.

  “My favorite kind,” Tyler said. He took her hand and tugged her over to the brown leather sofa.

  An unexpected vibration zinged through her like an electric shock, making it all the harder to fake the appearance of nonchalance as he settled in beside her on the sofa. It would be definitely helpful if the guy had a little less sex appeal.

  “I helped uncover a sex ring case,” she said. She looked around for Troy, but he’d disappeared, leaving her alone with Tyler. “It made all the cable news channels. You must have heard of it.”

  “News is in short supply in the Afghanistan badlands. So how about you fill me in on the highlights.”

  “I’m not your respons
ibility, Tyler. You’re back in the States. Women take care of themselves here.”

  “So I’ve heard. I’d still like to hear about the case and Melody Jinks. Or I can just go online and research it myself. But it’d be nice if you saved me the time.”

  She took a deep breath while she chose her words, making sure to provide only what was a matter of public record.

  “Some prominent Louisiana businessmen and influential politicians backed a mafia-run operation in New Orleans that smuggled in underage females from South American countries.”

  “For prostitution?”

  “Right,” she said. “I worked with an inside connection to get the goods on the men responsible. With the help of the NOPD, we were able to follow the money trail all the way to the top. Three New Orleans entrepreneurs and two former politicians are in jail awaiting trial.”

  “So who is this Melody Jinks?”

  She hesitated. Melody’s crimes were not a matter of public record, at least not yet.

  “She’s the wife of one of the politicians. She’s being investigated now for possibly lying under oath and trying to obscure justice by destroying evidence. And she blames it all on me. But like I said, my part of the investigation is finished. I’m on Muriel Frost like red beans on rice now.”

  “Then better switch to white gravy on chicken fried steak.”

  Tyler stretched his long legs in front of him and slid his arm along the back of the couch, grazing her neck with his muscular flesh. She scooted away from him, determined to squelch the effects of his nearness and raw virility.

  “So exactly who knows that you’re taking on justice for Muriel Frost?”

  Julie stood and walked behind the couch, giving herself some distance from Tyler’s piercing eyes and seductive touches. “I’m not free to discuss my sources. And now that I think about it, I don’t believe my staying here is a good idea.”

  “You’d let my questions scare you off from the chance to pick Troy Ledger’s brain from inside the magic circle? That doesn’t sound like a woman who takes death threats in stride.”

  “It’s not just your questions that concern me.”

  Tyler’s brows arched over his dark, hypnotic eyes. “Then what?”

  “I’m adding obstacles to your homecoming.”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  “There’s no need. Just drive me to the nearest motel.”

  “Yeah, motels are always safe.”

  A good point. And she wasn’t nearly as convinced that the note was from Melody Jinks as she’d insisted. But she wouldn’t let fear stop her from doing what she’d come to do. She wouldn’t let Tyler Ledger’s sex appeal stop her, either.

  “Okay, I’ll stay,” she conceded and then felt foolish. It wasn’t as if she was doing the Ledgers a favor.

  “So what’s next?” Tyler asked.

  “The first thing on my agenda is to visit the house where Muriel was killed.”

  “That was eighteen years ago. You can’t just march in someone’s house that long after the fact.”

  “It’s a vacant farmhouse. No one will know.”

  Troy rejoined them and picked up right on cue. “The house is in bad shape,” he offered from where he was leaning against the door facing.

  “Have you been to the house?” Julie asked.

  “Just two weeks ago. It’s been taken over by spiders, roaches and local addicts when they need an isolated place to get high. A lot of the windows are broken and some are boarded over. I doubt you’ll find any clues hiding in the rotting wood. I didn’t.”

  “Still, I’d like to see it for myself.”

  Tyler stood and stuffed his hands into the back pocket of his jeans. “I’ll go with you.”

  “Sorry, I fly solo.”

  “I haven’t applied for the job of assistant. This is just a one-time offer. Roaches in Texas are far more frightening than attacking bulls.”

  He was never going to let her live down the whip cracking. Julie swallowed the rest of her protest. She had no intention of having him trail her every movement, but having someone to stomp roaches would be a definite advantage.

  “When can you leave?” she asked.

  Tyler turned to his father. “How far is it?”

  “It’s just over the county line, but still a good hour’s drive, maybe longer.”

  Tyler turned back to Julie. “Then how about first thing in the morning? By the time we could get there tonight, the sun would be going down and you wouldn’t be able to see much inside the house.”

  “Tomorrow morning’s fine,” she said. “If there’s nothing else, I have some notes I need to look over. And you two need some time alone to get reacquainted.”

  “Right. Make yourself at home,” Troy said. “There are soft drinks and beer in the fridge and some homemade cookies that my daughter-in-law Collette made in that boot cookie jar on the counter.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And plan to join us for dinner,” he said. “I s’pect the whole family will be over, so it will be a madhouse. But the food is guaranteed to be good.”

  “I’d be delighted.”

  Troy had that easy way about him that made her feel right at home and made it all but impossible to think of him as a wife-killer.

  But the tension between him and Tyler remained as thick as midnight river fog. Apparently, family ties could strangle as well as bind.

  At least Tyler had some ties to strangle him.

  AFTER A HALF HOUR OF TRYING to force conversation, Tyler had escaped the house with the excuse of needing some exercise. Troy had not offered to go on the walk with him. Instead, he’d seemed as relieved by the break as Tyler.

  Strange that returning home was far more taxing on Tyler than living in a constant state of danger and battle fatigue. When he was with his squad, he knew what was expected of him and what the enemy was capable of. Back at Willow Creek Ranch, he was in a no-man’s-land where the adversary resided in the hidden crevices of his own mind.

  Splinters of caustic images had bombarded him ever since he’d first driven through the clanging metal gate. They’d become as sharp as shrapnel the second Julie had left him and Troy alone.

  Memories of his mother’s bloodied body were crippling after all these years. But it was more than the haunting visions that dragged him back into his personal hell. The sensations of loneliness and emptiness that had haunted him for most of his childhood had erupted, as well.

  With both parents out of his life and separated from his brothers, he’d felt as if he were drifting in an ocean with no haven in sight.

  But he’d been a kid then. He didn’t need family now. He’d found a way to tough it out and make a life for himself and it wasn’t on this ranch or even in Texas.

  So why had he come back?

  Forcing his mind away from his own dilemma, he concentrated on Julie. She was hot. There was no doubt about that. She seemed intelligent enough—except that she’d jumped on the invitation to stay at Willow Creek Ranch a little too quickly. He could see why she’d want to pick Troy’s mind, but staying in the house with a convicted killer was taking job responsibilities a bit too far. So were death threats.

  But what really puzzled him was why she’d decided to investigate a Texas crime that was so cold it could chill a desert when she’d just closed the book on a sizzling hot case in Louisiana.

  Tyler swatted a huge mosquito that had decided to feed on his neck. A few minutes later, he rounded the horse barn and the ranch house popped back into view. He spotted two unfamiliar pickup trucks parked at the side of the house.

  As he got closer, loud talk and laughter and mouthwatering odors wafted through the open kitchen window. No doubt Dylan and Sean had come over to welcome him home, just as Troy had said they would.

  Tyler slowed his pace as dread ground in his stomach. Ordinarily he’d be excited about seeing his brothers. But not here, not on this ranch. They’d found a way to fit in and make peace with their father. Tyler felt as if the man
were a complete stranger, an imposter playing the role of a man who’d died in his mind years ago.

  Turning away from the house, he looked back at the rolling pastureland and the sun setting just behind the tops of a patch of mesquite trees and one lone pine. A horse neighed in the distance. Wildflowers danced in the early evening breeze. The scene was idyllic. In contrast, his insides were a tempestuous storm.

  The back door slammed and he looked again at the house to see his brother Dylan heading his way.

  “Welcome home, bro,” Dylan called.

  Home? Not likely. Not in this lifetime. Not for Tyler.

  MADHOUSE HAD BEEN AN accurate description for the family get-together. Tyler couldn’t help getting a bit caught up in the joviality as introductions bounced around amid hugs and brotherly punches.

  There was no getting around the fact that his brothers looked and sounded great. He studied his new sisters-in-law for a second as introductions were made, trying to get who went with whom straight in his mind. It shouldn’t be that difficult.

  Dylan’s wife Collette had flaming red curls that bounced about her shoulders. The green silky blouse she wore over her form-fitting jeans set off her flashing emerald eyes. Her enthusiasm bubbled like chilled champagne, and he liked her instantly.

  Sean’s wife Eve was just as stunning, but more reserved and he had the feeling she was sizing him up the same as he was her. She was probably a damn good shrink, though Troy had mentioned this afternoon that she hadn’t worked as a psychiatrist since her son’s father was murdered.

  “This is our son, Joey,” Sean said, touching the shoulder of a tow-headed tyke who studied Tyler warily.

  Tyler bent to shake his hand. “Hello, there, cowboy. Nice boots you’ve got on.”

  Joey stuck one foot in front of him so Tyler could get a better look. “You can get ’em as muddy as you want.”

  “They look clean and spiffy now,” Tyler assured him.

  “What’s spiffy?”

  Sean patted his stepson on the head. “Means they’re looking good.”

  “I’ll be six years old next month,” Joey said. “I might get a pony.”