Cash thought for a moment. “Maddie’s foreman, Mac McAuliffe, has only been working here for ten years. Sweeney was around twenty-six years ago, but he never had any call to come over here. I was only three at the time and pretty much confined to the house. But there’s old Pete Blackthorn.”
Jordan dug her sister’s notes out of her bag. “I don’t think Maddie mentioned him.”
“She probably figured you wouldn’t run into him. He doesn’t stop by the ranch as often since your father died. They used to play the occasional game of chess together. I think Pete misses him.”
“Where does Pete live?”
“He keeps a trailer in a park south of Santa Fe. But he’s rarely there. Pete’s spent his whole life as a sort of freelance prospector. His great-great-grandfather worked some of the Navaho turquoise mines in the area. A lot of people believe that he has some old maps that were passed down in his family that show the location of some of the old mines. He certainly seems to find more than his share of turquoise.”
“Is he the source of those beautiful stones in Maddie’s studio?”
“He’s her only source.” Cash grinned. “Even when she was a kid, he used to bring her stones to play with.”
“I’d love to meet him. Not just to see if he knows anything about Maddie and me, but I’d like to buy some of that turquoise for Eva Ware Designs.”
“When I take you on a tour of the ranch the day after tomorrow, we might run into Pete. I’ve seen him frequently in the hills to the southeast.”
Jordan sent him a smile. “Thanks.”
“Are you up to riding Brutus?”
“I’d love to ride him.”
Cash glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned.
“What is it?”
“We’ve got company. There’s a van behind us that’s coming up fast.”
Jordan twisted in her seat. In spite of the brown dust Cash’s pickup was leaving in its wake, she could see the van clearly. It was black with dark windows. Sun glared off them as it closed the distance.
Cash eased his foot off the gas and pressed the brake. “There’s a couple of curves coming up that are tricky. No one familiar with this road would be driving that fast.” He pressed the brake again. “Maybe he’ll take the warning and slow down.”
The van closed the distance to ten yards, then five, then three. “He’s not slowing. If he wants to pass—” But he wasn’t trying to pass them, Jordan realized.
“Turn around and hang on.”
Jordan didn’t argue. She had a second to absorb the way the land fell away to their right. Then the van rammed into their rear bumper.
The impact slammed Jordan forward into the seat belt and had the rear wheels of the pickup fishtailing wildly. With her heart in her throat, she listened to them spin. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t think. All she could do was grip the seat with one hand, the armrest with the other and hold on for dear life.
6
TIRES SCREAMED and the truck then skidded onto the narrow shoulder. Dust and gravel erupted in a huge fan. Cash gripped the steering wheel hard as it threatened to rip out of his hands. Easy, he told himself. If he pulled too hard to the left, he’d send the car careening into the rock face.
“That wasn’t an accident,” Jordan exclaimed.
“No. He’s trying to run us off the road.” Cash didn’t even consider lying. The problem was, the bastard behind them had a good chance of accomplishing his goal. At this point in their descent, the road was a narrow corkscrew, all sharp with angles and little or no shoulder. There was rock on one side and drop-offs to the right, some more sheer than others.
Once the truck was steady again, Cash risked a glance into his rearview mirror. The road had flattened a bit, and the van had backed away.
Jordan twisted in her seat. “He’s not so close. What are we going to do?”
Cash shot her a quick glance. “Hopefully spoil his fun. Want to know the good news?”
“Bring it on.”
She was frightened, but she was holding together. Another woman—perhaps even Maddie—would have panicked by now. “In my reckless youth, I did a little drag racing on this very hill.” More than a little, truth be told.
“So you know the road.”
“Like the back of my hand.” Even as he spoke, Cash pictured a map in his mind, just as he had as a teenager.
“So what’s the bad news?”
“I know the road.”
Two beats of silence went by.
“You’ve got a plan?”
“You bet.” It was a risky one. He hoped to hell it would work.
“What can I do?”
“Keep your eyes on the van. I need to keep mine on the road.”
“Done.” She twisted in her seat. “He’s about fifteen yards behind us.”
A sign flashed by with a warning of the upcoming double S curve. Cash was happy Jordan didn’t see it.
“I want to know when he’s out of sight.” He eased his foot down on the gas pedal.
“You’re going faster?”
“Yeah. He’s going to hit us again, but he’ll wait until we’re farther down the incline where the drop-off is steeper.”
“Good to know.”
He couldn’t prevent his lips from curving. She was a trouper. “There are two possibilities.”
“So he has two chances?”
“Not if I can help it.”
“He’s speeding up, keeping pace.”
“Good.” On the map he had in his mind, Cash pictured the two places on the road where the land fell away sharply. In the first, the ground plunged into a series of gulleys, each one lower and deeper. There was a chance of surviving. The second option offered a sheer drop-off. Nothing but air for about one hundred feet. Barring a miracle, death would be certain.
If the guy in the van was a pro, and Cash was beginning to suspect he was, he’d have scoped the route out and chosen his spot. The second one. Cash would have put good money on it.
But if his plan worked, neither of them would get that far.
He let his gaze drop briefly to the speedometer and saw the needle inch past sixty. He reminded himself that the truck wouldn’t corner as well as the car he’d driven in his teens. Swallowing fear, he took the first curve at close to sixty-five. His fingers dug into the steering wheel as he fought for control. The truck teetered briefly on two tires. After three heart-stopping beats, the other two slammed back onto the pavement. Heart pumping, Cash tightened his grip on the wheel and steered the pickup into the next curve. As his adrenaline spiked, his mind cleared, and he fine-tuned the image of the downward spiral of turns in his mind.
“Where’s the van?” he asked.
“Still with us.”
“Good.” He wanted his pursuer to keep pace. For now. In the most acute angle of the spiral, the back tires skidded, screeching on the asphalt. They slid onto a narrow line of gravel edging the drop-off and spun for an endless moment before gripping the pavement again. Then the pickup shot forward.
“Can you still see it?” Cash asked.
“No. Too much dust.”
Perfect. Cash was banking on the driver having to slow for a bit. But he didn’t glance back himself. Nor did he look to the right. He knew there would be nothing to see but air.
Eyes narrowed, body tense, he focused all his attention on the winding road, matching it to the map in his head as he zigged and zagged into the next two turns. He’d done this before, he reminded himself.
“There’s a bump ahead,” he warned Jordan. When the pickup smacked into it and shot into the air for a few seconds, the bottom dropped out of his stomach—just as if he were on a roller coaster. He recalled the thrill it had given him when he was younger. This time, he swallowed fear again. The truck slammed back onto the pavement with a bone-jarring jolt.
In seconds, they’d reach the steepest part of the incline. This was it. Gritting his teeth, he anticipated the next stretch. Hairpin didn’t even begin to describe
the curves. “Hang on tight.”
“I still can’t see the van. Oh, there he is.”
Cash pressed his foot harder on the gas pedal. A sign flashed by. He knew it cautioned a speed of thirty. With luck, he’d make it through the first turns. If he tried to take the last curve at this speed, they’d skid off the road.
But he didn’t plan to take that last curve at all. Just ahead, right where he’d been picturing it, was a wide circular area of the shoulder that had been cut into the rock face. It was the only section of the road where a vehicle could pull off. Timing would be everything. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he prayed that his maneuver would work.
He began to tap the brake just before the wide arc of shoulder came into view. When they reached it, he eased the pickup closer to the opposite side of the road before whipping his vehicle to the left and into a spin. Tires spit gravel. Holding on to the steering wheel for dear life, Cash let the momentum take them.
JORDAN WOULD HAVE SCREAMED if her heart hadn’t been trapped in her throat. They were going to die. Her mind was numbed by the thought. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes. What did was a stream of scenes blurred by the dust the truck was spewing up, each one freeze-framed for an instant in the windshield of the truck. One second a solid wall of granite was dead ahead, the next a dizzying spin of road. Then nothing but air. Her stomach plummeted, and before the images could flash by again, she shut her eyes.
When metal screamed against rock, she knew the end was near. Now she’d never get to know Maddie or her father. Or Cash. She felt the sudden lurch of the truck, knew that he was doing his best to save them. He was the last thought in her mind before the truck suddenly shuddered to a stop.
Cash’s hand gripped hers. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” And it was true. She opened her eyes. The scent of burning rubber filled her lungs. It was real. They weren’t dead. As her vision cleared, she saw out of the corner of her eye that the rock face was to their right and they were facing up the hill.
Then through the haze of dust, she saw the van lurch around the curve ahead of them—the same one they’d just taken. The back end fishtailed, sending the vehicle into a fast skid. It was a little like watching a movie, Jordan realized. For an instant as the tires spun, the car careened down the road sideways—the front facing the rock face, the rear end spewing up gravel on the nearly nonexistent shoulder.
“He took the curve too fast,” Cash said.
Jordan caught the grim satisfaction in his tone. She might have said something then, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the van. It was still about fifteen yards away them when the tires found traction. For one horrifying moment, the vehicle shot forward, and she was sure it would crash into the granite wall. But at the last moment, the driver avoided the collision, by jerking the van back onto the road.
“He’s overcompensating,” Cash murmured.
As if to prove the point, the van tipped crazily to one side, the roof kissing the rock face and sending off sparks.
Then the vehicle careened forward, weaving drunkenly down the road.
“He’s not going to make it,” Cash predicted.
He was right. The driver had clearly lost control, and he was going way too fast. As the van whipped toward them, it shimmied and shuddered. When it tore past them, she and Cash both twisted in their seats. Together they watched it shoot sideways into the air at the side of the road. There was a sudden and complete silence, and for a moment, as it hovered in space, Jordan half expected the vehicle to fly.
Then, as if a magician had waved a wand, the front end pointed downward and it plummeted out of sight. The sound of the impact shattered the silence.
Releasing her hand, Cash unfastened his seat belt and opened the door. “Stay here.”
“No way.”
He waited for her to join him on the other side of the truck. Then he gripped her hand in his and led the way across the two lanes.
The van was about fifty yards below them, lying on the passenger side with two of its tires spinning.
Cash pulled out his cell. “I hope I can get a signal.” He breathed a sigh of relief as he punched in 9-1-1.
A moment later, Jordan listened to him give the information and their location to someone on the other end. Everything had happened so fast. She was still trying to get her mind around it. By the time he slipped his cell back into his pocket, the van’s tires had stopped spinning, most of the dust had settled, and she’d figured out what had happened.
Turning to him, she said, “You intended for him to go off the road, didn’t you? That was your plan.”
He met her eyes. “I won’t deny that I was hoping it would work out this way. That bastard was trying to kill you.”
He half expected her to cringe or pull away, but she didn’t. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close.
Cash couldn’t have described the emotions that tumbled through him at the simple gesture. His knees nearly buckled. No woman had ever been able to push so many of his buttons so fast. She was taking him into uncharted territory. There was none of the fire or desperation he’d felt when they’d made love during the night or this morning. Now as he held her close to him, it was warmth that spread through him. And he felt suddenly and completely at home.
When she drew back, he didn’t want to let her go.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
Cash gathered his thoughts. “You helped, you know.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How? You’re the one who ought to start a new career as a race car driver.”
He managed a smile. “You did everything I asked. You didn’t ask useless questions, and you didn’t fall apart.”
She tilted her head to one side. “I don’t usually fall apart. But I’m not sure you should depend on me not asking questions or being so obedient all the time.”
He threw back his head and laughed. The sound was still lingering in the air when he pulled her close for a quick, hard kiss. At least his intention was to make it quick. But the softness of her lips, the flavors in her mouth tempted him to linger. Just for a moment. And that was all it took to have the heat igniting and spreading like a flash fire in a drought. Before he could think, he’d pulled her close and his hands were running over her, pressing, teasing, tormenting. It was as if his will had been snatched completely away.
It was the sudden feeling of helplessness that gave him the strength to pull back.
She was as breathless as he was, her eyes as surprised. “This is happening so fast.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Another moment and he might have taken her right there where they stood. And he was damn sorry that he’d had to put on the brakes. Another time, another place he promised himself as he dropped his hands.
“You remember what you said about my not counting on you being so obedient all the time?”
She nodded.
“Why don’t we give that a little test? What would you say if I asked you to stay here while I climbed down and checked on the driver?”
She shook her head firmly. “No way.”
“See? One simple statement and you’ve totally adjusted my expectations.”
Keeping her hand gripped in his, Cash led the way down to the wreck.
AN HOUR LATER, Jordan stood on the narrow shoulder of the drop-off giving her statement to Detective Shay Alvarez. He hadn’t introduced himself, which made her suspect that Maddie knew him. How well was the big question. She’d made it her business to get his full name by the tried and true method of eavesdropping.
As Alvarez reviewed the notes he’d been taking, Jordan watched the scene below where a helicopter was lifting a stretcher carrying the injured body of the van’s driver. For a moment, Alvarez also turned to watch until the man was safely pulled inside.
Earlier, when they’d reached the van, Cash had climbed up to the window and found the man still had a faint pulse. They hadn’t dared to move him. Not that they’d have been able to. The police
had used some sort of a pulley to get the van upright before the medics could deal with getting him out.
The sun beat down ruthlessly, and the dusty breeze stirred up by the helicopter as it lifted brought even hotter air. Jordan felt sweat trickle down her back.
Detective Alvarez glanced down at his notebook. “You’re sure you have no idea why this man tried to run you and Cash off the road?”
“No.” That much was true, but she was beginning to feel little pangs of guilt because neither she nor Cash had admitted to him that she wasn’t Maddie. That constituted lying to the police, didn’t it?
“There have been some incidents of vandalism at the ranch,” she said. “Someone tried to poison my horse, and this morning, my studio was vandalized.”
Shay Alvarez took a moment to study her. “Cash told me.”
Jordan figured that conversation must have taken place right after he’d arrived and taken Cash aside for a few moments. She’d gotten the distinct impression from their body language that they knew each other. But she could hardly ask. Maddie would know something like that.
After talking briefly to Cash and turning him over to one of the uniforms who’d accompanied him, Detective Shay Alvarez walked up to the curve that had ultimately sent the van out of control and examined the skid marks.
The man didn’t look Hispanic. He was tall and lanky with broad shoulders and blue eyes. The moment he’d climbed out of his car he’d had her thinking of Matt Dillon from Gunsmoke.
Now as she met his penetrating gaze, she thought again of the sheriff in the old TV series. Matt Dillon had been one smart man, and she had a hunch that Shay Alvarez was, too. As the silence stretched between them, Jordan finally felt compelled to say something. Anything. “Do you know who the driver of the van is?”
“Not yet. He wasn’t carrying any ID. Most professionals don’t. But we may be able to trace him through his fingerprints.”
“Do you think this incident might be related to the destruction of my studio?” Jordan asked.
In her peripheral vision, she could see Cash striding toward them. Relief surged through her. But it was short-lived.
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