Cowboy Justice (16 page)

Jenna’s mouth opened on the word
No
and stayed there.

“Oh, yeah. She asked me to let her know when I was done with him so she could have a crack.”

Jenna gasped, wrinkling her nose. “What a slut! How’d you answer?”

Rachel wrung the tissue between her hands. “That’s the problem. Instead of denying it, I added fuel to the fire.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad. What did you say?”

Despite her remorse over her reaction to Kate, she felt the hint of a smile in her cringe. It had felt pretty dang satisfying to knock Kate down a notch, even if it was the wrong course of action. “I told her if she had a thing for sloppy seconds, she could go ahead and get in line.”

Clapping her hands, Jenna let out a
whoop
of laughter that echoed off the foothill. “That’s cool, Rach. I love this new side of you.”

“I don’t. Now I’m screwed. Kate’s probably spread the news to every corner of the county by now.”

Jenna patted her knee. “Sweetie, there’s no such thing as secrets in Catcher Creek to begin with, so there’s no sense wasting your energy worrying about discovery. What’s done is done. Next time you go into town, keep your chin up and act like you know what you’re doing.”

Rachel bit her tongue to keep from bringing up the irony of Jenna’s words. There was no such thing as secrets in their town. At least one big one, anyway. As far as Rachel and Amy could tell, not a soul in the town had any proof of the identity of Tommy’s father. Everybody had a theory, including Rachel. But it didn’t do any good to press Jenna on it because she was as tight-lipped as a kid confronted with a plate of spinach.

“He might need to recuse himself after all, in that case,” Rachel said. “I know he wants to put Wallace Meyer Jr. and the others behind bars, but it’s not worth jeopardizing his career over.”

“Do you love him?”

There it was—the fifty-million-dollar question. She rubbed her hands together, choosing her words carefully. “I always thought if I settled down, it would be with a farmer. I’ve been doing this job alone for a long time. A partner would be a welcome change.”

“True. That would be nice. Too bad life doesn’t work that way. It’s funny how often we get what we need instead of what we think we want.”

She raised her brows, huffing. “That’s the damnedest thing about it all—I don’t
need
Vaughn. No one in their right mind needs that kind of hurt, where you can’t live with someone, but you can’t live without them either. Vaughn’s brought nothing but pain and upheaval into my life. He’s the last thing I need.”

“Okay, but do you love him?”

Rachel puffed her cheeks full of air. She’d answered that question for herself the last time she and Vaughn had slept together the month before. But knowing the answer and feeling good about sharing it with her sister were two entirely different animals. She walked to the side of the house and picked at the chipping paint. The cottage needed a new coat. Maybe she and Jenna could tackle the project together now that Ben was here to manage the daily chores.

Jenna’s searching gaze felt heavy on Rachel’s back.

When she’d built up the nerve to speak, the power of confessing her deepest secret hushed her voice to a whisper. “Yeah. I do. Makes no difference because nothing will ever come of it, but yeah, I’m crazy in love with him.”

Jenna joined her at the siding. Rachel watched her gaze travel past the house and up the hill that split her valley with the main house. “Speak of the devil.”

Rachel whipped around. Sure enough, Vaughn’s squad car, followed by a sheriff’s department patrol truck, then another squad car, paraded down the road in the distance. At the fork, they turned toward the main house.

Rachel dusted her jeans, praying her eyes weren’t as red and puffy as Jenna’s. At least she didn’t wear makeup so she didn’t have to worry about having the same raccoon eyes Jenna was sporting.

Rachel handed her a tissue. “Here. Your makeup’s running.”

Jenna wiped the smears. “Thanks. You should know I’m not going to tell Amy any of this. It’s your story to tell when you’re ready.” She set her hands on Rachel’s shoulders. “Remember, you didn’t owe me an apology, and you don’t owe Amy one either. What you need to do is figure out what you want with Vaughn.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Jenna. What I want is for things to be the way they were in simpler times. Before Dad died and Mom’s depression took a turn for the worse. Before we had to peddle our way of life for a tourist dollar. The way things were before Vaughn.”

Jenna tossed the tissue box in her car. “Despite the way you’ve got it pictured in your head, our lives were never simple. They were predictable, and that’s a big difference, but you’re only fooling yourself if you think we ever had it easy.” She draped an arm across Rachel’s shoulders. “C’mon, sweetie. Let’s go see what’s brought your sheriff out to the farm today.”

Chapter Eleven

The first thing Vaughn noticed when Rachel stepped out of her truck was that her eyes were rimmed in red. Her cheeks and nose were red too. So were Jenna’s, he saw after she walked around from the passenger side of the truck.

It threw him off something fierce to know Rachel had been crying. He was dying to know what would push her to such an openly emotional state, though he didn’t dare ask. The ways of women when they got together weren’t meant to be understood by mankind, his dad used to say when the two of them retreated to the workshop on Bunco night or during his sisters’ innumerable sleepovers.

Stratis and Binderman were busy organizing their evidence kits and preparing for the task at hand, so Vaughn met the sisters to explain the reasons for their visit. Rachel’s gaze barely touched on him as she looked at the vehicles and Binderman before resting her gaze on Stratis, who was digging through his trunk. She frowned at him, her eyes wary.

He hated that she was uncomfortable, but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it.

“Good morning, Sheriff,” Jenna said.

He touched the brim of his hat in greeting, then turned his focus to Rachel, “How are you feeling today, with the gunshot wound?”

“Better, thanks. It’s healing nicely.” Her response was as woodenly delivered as his question. They were quite a pair.

Maybe that was why Jenna was staring at him like she was trying to read his thoughts telepathically. Maybe she could. What the hell did he know? Of all the Sorentino sisters, Jenna was a complete mystery to him, though it hadn’t always been that way. When Jenna was in high school, he’d had her figured out to a fault, a product of hauling her butt to school or Rachel’s door near about every week. But this new Jenna, the single mom, he didn’t know a thing about her except that, from all accounts, she had a whip-smart mind that rivaled her older sisters’.

When she wouldn’t stop staring at him, he extended his hand in greeting. “How are you, Jenna?”

“Doin’ fine, Sheriff.”

As he was scouring his brain for a bit of small talk to engage her with, Binderman chose that moment to walk up, for which Vaughn was eternally grateful.

“This is Deputy Binderman, and Undersheriff Stratis is over by the truck. We’re here to gather evidence and ask you all a few more questions.”

“You’ve already been all over the Parillas Valley. What more do you need?” Rachel asked.

“Oh, I meant at the other graffiti locations.”

“We haven’t . . .” Jenna rounded on Rachel. “What’s he talking about, Rachel?”

By the way Rachel’s expression turned wide-eyed and panicky, it was clear she hadn’t been forthcoming with her sisters on what had been happening around the farm. He did a mental cringe. Bad call on her part. She had to know it was going to be public knowledge sooner or later.

“If I say it’s not important, will you let it go?” Rachel asked her.

“I don’t think so,” Jenna answered in a peeved tone.

“It’s nothing. Really.”

“Spill it, Rachel.” Geez, she sounded like Vaughn’s mom when she’d caught him or one of his sisters up to mischief. There must be some sort of secret mom school where they all learned to do that.

Rachel huffed and threw her arms up. “
Spill your guts, Rachel
.Isn’t that just the theme of the day?”

Vaughn looked at Nathan and they both took a step back, then another. And one more for good measure.

“You and Chris don’t have any sisters, so you’re not altogether familiar with this sort of sisterly battle?” he asked.

“Nope. Just us three boys. Our oldest brother, Tom, has two girls.”

Vaughn watched Rachel explain the other graffiti instances to Jenna, whose face got redder and madder with every detail Rachel revealed. “I have two younger sisters. My only word of advice is never get caught in the middle of two sisters fighting. It ain’t pretty. Especially when they live close together and their monthly cycles match up.” He shuddered, remembering some of the hair-pulling, shrieking battles his sisters had gotten into growing up.

Nathan balked. “Aw, now, don’t talk about woman stuff. Ugh.”

“Spoken like a man who doesn’t have sisters. There’s no escaping the topic when you live with three women. You become numb to all the tampons and crying and ice packs and late-night chocolate ice cream runs. You’ll have to take my word on that.”

Nathan looked horrified.

Vaughn chuckled. Nothing wrong with razzing your greenest deputies every so often.

His smile vanished when Jenna stalked up to him. “Is this true? Twelve times people have come onto our property and defaced it? Once even as close as behind our stable? That’s way too close for a criminal to be to my son. Can’t you arrest Rachel for failure to report or something? Teach her a lesson about keeping every damn thing inside herself instead of sharing the information with her family, of all people?”

“I’m not going to arrest Rachel. She thought she was doing the right thing, keeping you all in the dark.”

Jenna’s mouth twisted in disgust. “Oh, perfect. Of course you’re taking her side. I should have guessed you’d back her up.”

“Don’t you dare bring him into this,” Rachel hissed, low and menacing. The two went back to snapping at each other.

Binderman leaned over and whispered from the side of his mouth, “What happened to your advice to never get caught between two sisters fighting?”

Vaughn glanced sideways at him, then held up his palms and said in a booming voice, “We have bigger problems. I received information today that one of the suspects, Shawn Henigin, has actually been a guest at your inn.” That got their attention.

Rachel and Jenna gasped. Jenna reached to Rachel and gripped her forearm, shaking her head. “No way. I would’ve recognized the name.”

“He probably used an alias,” Vaughn suggested. “I know your farm mainly serves families, but have you had any couples stay with you lately?”

Jenna nodded. “Three pairs in the last few months.”

Rachel’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t recognize him on Monday, but then, I don’t have much interaction with the guests, especially the couples without kids.”

“Understood,” Vaughn said. “While Deputy Binderman and I interview you about the graffiti, Undersheriff Stratis has a picture of Henigin to show Jenna and Amy, along with some questions to ask them. Would that be all right with you, Jenna?”

Jenna nodded and swallowed.

Stratis nodded to her. “Let’s get started, Miss Sorentino.”

But Jenna didn’t move until Rachel gave her a subtle nudge that kick-started her into action. Stratis opened his arm, guiding her toward the front porch.

When they were out of sight, Rachel asked, “What would this Henigin man gain from staying with us? None of the graffiti has been close to the ranch, except for the one time behind the stable. As far as I know, nothing was stolen, so it’s not like he was casing the joint.”

“I don’t know, but it chills me to the bone to think of you, Amy, and everyone else sleeping under the same roof as that man. I hope to God my source was wrong.”

Rachel nodded and jammed her hands into her pockets, her jaw tight, her shoulders tight—everything about her tense and scared. She looked so shaken, he was overcome with the need to hold her. He shook the thought away. “Let’s work on getting out to the derricks as fast as possible. We’ll puzzle out the rest later. I’m assuming the locations of the graffiti incidents are accessible by truck?”

Rachel shook her head. “All but the second to last one, on the boulders overlooking the western edge of the Parillas Valley. It’s only reachable by horse or ATV.”

That didn’t make for a fast or quiet getaway for the vandals. He filed that bit of data away.

“How many ATVs do you have on this place?” Binderman asked.

“One is all we’ve got working right now. Most of the revenue from the oil has gone toward paying debts and our workers’ wages. Plus, I’m saving for a new tractor engine.” Shaking her head, she bit her lower lip. “And I don’t know why I’m telling you that. Sorry.”

“No. That’s understandable. A new tractor is important.”
Understandable?
What a moron. For once, he wished he could talk to Rachel in front of other people and not sound like a robot with a broken circuit board. He took a deep breath and tried again. “I’d like you to come to the crime scenes to tell us more about the vandalism and show us exactly where the graffiti occurred. Does the ATV hold two?”

An unwanted thrill stirred to life in him, imagining Rachel straddling the ATV behind him, her arms around his waist, her face near his shoulder. Good Lord, why had he suggested such an outrageous idea?

If the idea of sharing an ATV affected Rachel as it did him, she didn’t show it. “It’s a one-seater. I can ride horseback. Follow you there.”

On Tuesday, he’d longed to ride with her. To be near the wild strength she harnessed when she moved in the saddle. The circumstances today weren’t ideal, but it might be as close as he ever got to that dream. “If you’ve got a second horse up for the task, I’d like to ride too. My evidence kit’s small enough for a saddlebag.”

Though riding double on an ATV hadn’t sparked a fire in her eyes, this new notion did. Flushing, she turned away from Nathan’s line of sight.

“That would be fine.” Her voice was throaty and low. She pressed her hand to her chest. “Jenna’s horse, Disco, hasn’t been on the trail in a while. You’ll like him.”

He nodded to Nathan. “Binderman, you take the truck and process the derrick for evidence. After Rachel and I get you started there, we’ll move over to the other scenes and leave markers for you to find them.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Rachel, would you point Deputy Binderman toward the derricks?”

He waited near the stable door while Rachel gave directions to Nathan, then followed her through the sliding double doors. She beelined for the tack box.

“What’s going on with Jenna?” he asked, joining her.

She pulled out a saddle blanket and handed it to him. “What do you mean?”

“Before I brought up Shawn Henigin, she was acting . . . odd. She wouldn’t stop staring at me.” He wished he had the guts to add,
And you two had obviously been crying
. “I couldn’t tell if she hates me or if she was trying to flirt with me. Either one would be bad.”

Rachel snickered, coming up from the tack box with a halter and bridle combo. Brushing past him, she fitted the halter and bridle onto a gorgeous black horse with white diamonds on its legs and nose, then led it from its stall.

“Jenna’s not flirting with you.” She stroked the horse’s neck, and Vaughn had to wonder if she were deliberately avoiding his gaze. He came up next to Rachel to let the animal sniff its fill of him. “Vaughn, meet Disco.”

“Hey, buddy. Wanna go for a ride?” He reached in front of Rachel to stroke Disco’s neck.

“How long has it been since you’ve ridden?”

It was a fair question. “Kellan and I go trail riding on his land fairly often. I was practically born on a horse, though, with my parents being farriers.”

Disco nudged Vaughn with his nose, then gave his cheek a little nibble and knocked his hat off. Vaughn snatched it out of the air and tucked it under his arm, then scratched Disco’s neck near his chin. “How come you don’t think Jenna was flirting with me? You think that’s so impossible? I’ll have you know I get flirted with all the time.”

“I believe it. Kate Parrish considers you Quay County’s most eligible bachelor now that Kellan’s off the market. She told me so today.”

“She did, hmm?” Had to wonder what else Kate said, seeing as how they’d muddled through a couple awkward dates before Vaughn had gentlemanly, but firmly, let her know a third one wasn’t in the cards. Kate was nice enough, and pretty in a former prom queen way, but he didn’t feel a thing for her except neighborliness. “Then why is it so hard for you to entertain the idea that Jenna might think of me the same way?” He smiled so she’d know he was teasing her.

Rachel took the blanket from Vaughn and placed it on Disco’s back. “Because she told me she’s not into your whole cowboy lawman vibe.”

A chuckle bubbled up from low in his belly. “That’s a good thing, because I’m not into her whole younger sister of my—” He froze, stuck on wondering what Rachel’s title would be in his life.

“Former lover vibe?” Rachel provided, tossing the words over her shoulder as she walked to the tack box.

Oh, doggie. Time to let that uncomfortable conversation thread die. He wandered past the rows of stalls, stopping in front of Growly Bear, and offering the horse his hand to smell.

“You want me to get Growly Bear out?”

“No. I have to take Amy’s horse, Nutmeg, today. Growly threw a shoe and our farrier couldn’t come by until tomorrow.”

Vaughn peered into Growly’s stall. The horse’s left hind leg had been fitted with a cloth boot.

Rachel appeared next to him. “Lincoln was my trail horse. Growly didn’t see much trail time, so we didn’t know his shoe was compromised until . . .” Her voice trailed off.

He was anxious to save her from having to vocalize about Lincoln’s death. “Understood. Who’s your farrier?”

“Chuck Harring.”

The farrier community was a small one. Chuck was a longtime friend of his family and an all-around decent guy. “He’s good. When he comes by, make sure you tell him Growly’s going to be seeing a lot more trail time. He might need to adjust all the shoes. Were you able to recover the thrown shoe?”

“Yes.”

Vaughn smoothed his hand along Growly’s neck. “I keep a basic farrier kit in my trunk. You’d be surprised how often it’s come in handy over the years in my line of work. Chuck wouldn’t mind me stepping in, if you’d like me to take care of it real quick.”

“That would be great, but I know you have a lot of work to do and the day’s not getting any younger. I could ride Nutmeg no problem.”

For reasons he didn’t care to analyze right then, he wanted to help Rachel out, get her riding her preferred horse. He wanted to make her happy, sure, but he suspected his offer was more about the way he felt watching her gallop with Growly across the Parillas Valley earlier that week. “Bring him out of his stall. I’ll get my kit.”