Death on Heels (21 page)

“Impossible. Ground’s frozen hard.”

“Could you give me a lift onto Buttercup?” The horse neighed at her name and nuzzled Lacey’s neck.

“Sure. In a minute.” Cole stepped closer to her, pinning her against the horse’s warm flank.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Lacey didn’t care for the look in Tucker’s eyes.

He took her in his arms, leaned down and kissed her, sending shock waves and unwanted memories through her. She tried to move away from him, but he held her for a long time.

“Now you can go back to your Vic Donovan,” Tucker said. “But you’ll remember me.”

He had her there. Lacey might not be able to recall their first kiss, but she would never forget this one.

“Are you mad at me, Lacey?”

She gulped to catch her breath. She didn’t know what to say. “Yes! No. No madder than I was before.”

He laughed and kissed her forehead and helped her onto the horse.

Tucker rode with Lacey for a few miles to put her on the right trail to Sagebrush. Among the bare cottonwoods near a small creek, he and Ricochet stopped.

“Here’s where we part company, Lacey. It’s breaking my heart, love.”

“Tucker, please be careful.” She felt a pain in her heart too, for him, for old times. “This can’t be like a Marty Robbins song, where the outlaw gets gunned down in the last verse.”

“I won’t sing that song, then. Happy trails, Chantilly Lace.”

Tucker tipped his hat and tapped Ricochet’s flanks. The black horse spun around and they galloped off in the opposite direction. Lacey watched him go until he was just a dot on the western horizon.

Buttercup knew the way, as Tucker promised. The shortest trail to the Tuckered Out Ranch (and Buttercup’s stable) would take them first to Sagebrush, where Lacey planned to call Kit. The palomino stopped every so often to sniff the air, or swish her tail and look around, or munch some snow. Lacey wasn’t about to urge her into a spine-shaking gallop, so Buttercup took her time and enjoyed the scenery. After a few hours of walking and trotting, the horse seemed to grow a little more eager
to see her barn again and quickened her pace. It was nearly noon when Lacey finally crested the bluffs north of town and caught sight of the outskirts of Sagebrush. She was stiff and starving.

She was surprised by the sight of Kit Carson Tucker already waiting on the side of the highway, with his dirty white pickup, the same one she and Tucker had borrowed, and a horse trailer. Had Tucker somehow been in contact with Kit this morning? Or had they made this plan last night without telling her? How else would Tucker’s brother know to meet her at the right place at the right time? Whatever the reason, Lacey was grateful Kit was there to take charge of the horse.

Kit waved to her, and Lacey waved back. She rode up to the trailer and was about to dismount when she saw Kit Carson Tucker wasn’t the only one waiting to welcome her back to town.

Welcome might not be the exact word,
she thought.

Sirens screaming, the sheriff’s SUV careened up the road toward the horse trailer. Buttercup reared in a panic. Lacey yelped and hung on tight. Kit managed to grab the horse’s bridle to calm Buttercup, and he helped Lacey off the horse. She felt wobbly and her legs were like rubber, but she did not fall. It took her a few moments to realize she was shaking.

Sheriff T-Rex Rexford screeched to a stop, jumped out with the engine still running, and slammed the door. Another man exited the passenger side.

Lacey was cold, tired, and hungry. She was worried about Vic and her family. She knew she was a wrinkly, dusty, saddle-sore mess that smelled more like a horse than a woman, and Buttercup wasn’t her favorite perfume. Buttercup neighed and nuzzled Lacey with her nose, back to her placid self and apparently eager to remind Lacey to show some appreciation for a pleasant morning’s ride. Lacey patted the horse’s neck and leaned against the big animal for support. Kit took the reins and fed Buttercup an apple from one of his pockets.

Sheriff Rexford was right in her face. “Where’s Cole Tucker?”

“How should I know?” Lacey backed away from T-Rex. “He just put me on the horse and sent me here. Hours ago. He let me come back and he didn’t hurt me. He didn’t kill anyone, you know.”

“Don’t tell me what I know, missy.”

“All right, I’ll tell you what
I
know. Cole Tucker didn’t murder those women.”

The sheriff had a mighty big voice for a moderately sized man. He was no more than five-foot-seven, but his ten-gallon hat pulled down tight on his bulky head, and his stacked-heel boots, gave him the illusion of height. He wore a dark brown uniform jacket over khaki slacks. He was as lean and weathered as if he’d been baked in the sun, the same shade as his mud brown hair.
Or maybe he’s just red faced with the excitement of seeing me.
Lacey couldn’t tell, but the flush of his face made his angry eyes look bluer by contrast. His face was a barometer of rage, just like Muldoon’s. He reminded her of an agitated banty rooster ready to fly up and fight. A rooster wearing a cowboy hat.
Or a tiny angry dinosaur.

Behind him, the other man, larger and quieter, but with the same air of authority, stepped closer to the sheriff. T-Rex took a deep breath and calmed down a little.

“Rico Firestone? Is that you?” Lacey asked.

He put out his hand. “Long time, Lacey.”

CBI agent Rico Firestone was about the same age as the sheriff, but taller and broader. His black hair was streaked with gray. Deep wrinkles spread out from his dark eyes. He seemed less likely to shoot her than T-Rex. She remembered him as a calming influence. He’d been a friend of Vic’s, back when Vic was the chief of police.

“Are you all right, Lacey?”

She nodded. “If the CBI is involved, where’s the FBI?”

“Standing by,” Firestone said. “We’re in touch.”

Lacey swayed back and forth, but she had never fainted in her life, and she was not about to start now. Firestone had relaxed his grip on her hand, but he tightened it to keep her upright.

“Kit?” She turned around and shook off Firestone’s hand.

“Yeah, Lacey?” Kit was leading Buttercup to the horse trailer. Lacey watched as he expertly handled the palomino. The horse had already shifted her allegiance and left Lacey behind without a second thought. She was happily neighing and nuzzling Cole’s younger brother, who had pockets full of treats for her.

“How did you know I was coming this way?”

“Got a call from Truman up the road. Said he saw someone on Buttercup, riding this way. I figured Buttercup would be tired out by now and could use a lift home. She’s hungry too. Looks like she got her exercise for the day. Good girl, Buttercup, we’ll be home soon.” The horse was family to Kit. Lacey obviously was not. Kit tipped his hat. He was ready to go.

“Tucker call you?” Firestone called to him.

Kit’s eyes skipped lightly over the sheriff and the CBI agent and revealed nothing. “I imagine he has other things on his mind. I heard about my horse from a neighbor to our north. Call him, he’ll tell you.”

“You can go, Kit,” T-Rex said. “But stay available, you hear?”

Kit shrugged and returned to Buttercup, leading her onto the trailer.

T-Rex advanced on Lacey. “You got a lot of questions to answer, missy.”

“My name’s not Missy, and you know it, T-Rex. I’ve had one hell of a night and a bumpy morning, and I suggest you back off.”

“And my name’s not T-Rex! It is Sheriff Rexford to you, Miss Smithsonian.”

Agent Firestone stepped between them, playing good cop to T-Rex’s Neanderthal cop. “No problems here, Sheriff. I’m sure Lacey has had quite a difficult time of it and she’ll tell us all about it.”

“Each and every detail,” T-Rex said, but he backed off. “Well, Lacey? Did Tucker hurt you?”

“Only my pride,” she said, remembering her humiliating exit from the courthouse. She eyed the barren
landscape at the edge of town and turned around, searching in vain. The face she wanted to see wasn’t here. She was unprepared for the disappointment she felt. Lacey rationalized that Vic couldn’t know Tucker had released her. It wasn’t like he was psychic.
The way
a woman would be under the same circumstances,
she told herself.

“Where’s Vic?” Lacey asked Firestone.

“That would be former Police Chief Donovan?” T-Rex butted in. “No idea. I understand he’s your
boyfriend
now?”

She exhaled before speaking. “I asked
you
, Agent Firestone.”

Firestone gestured gallantly to the Yampa County SUV and she followed him. “Vic is out with the posse. Looking for you and Cole Tucker.”

“The posse?”
So they really called out the posse?

“That’s right,” the sheriff said. “I called up the posse. I can do that, and I did.”

“Good idea. It is 1893, isn’t it? The Wild Bunch will be shooting up the saloon any minute now.”

Firestone opened the front door for her. At least he didn’t make her sit in the back like a prisoner. He took the backseat himself. T-Rex hopped into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and put the monster SUV into gear.

“Every county sheriff is legally empowered to convene a posse to assist law enforcement with voluntary manpower, if necessary,” Firestone said.

“That’s right,” the sheriff growled. “We got us an escaped fugitive. Hell, Tucker abducted you right out of the courthouse, in front of witnesses. I never thought he was capable of doing such a crazy-ass thing. Of course we need the damn posse!” The sheriff clicked his safety belt and gunned the engine. “The other agencies are also on the lookout. Time those Fish and Wildlife and BLM folks did something for us.”

“So you unleashed—what? Fifty or sixty overage Boy Scouts, with pickups and guns and itchy trigger fingers?” Lacey pictured the chaos a posse like that could wreak.

“More or less,” T-Rex said with a smirk. “It’s a mighty big county.”

“What about Deputy Rush? Is he all right?”

“Is he all right? If you call getting your ass reamed out by me for dereliction of duty and allowing a dangerous murder suspect to escape and embarrass the Yampa County Sheriff’s Department, okay then, yeah, I guess he’s okay. Grady’s lucky to have a damn job after pulling that idiot stunt. And I’m not too sure how long he’s gonna keep it. But I reckon you’ll be helping me corroborate his statement about the escape and the kidnapping.”

Depends on his statement
, Lacey thought. “How did Grady catch that tip about evidence at Cole Tucker’s ranch?”

“And how’d you know that?” T-Rex said.

“I’m a reporter. Remember?” Lacey said. “And it’s a small town.”

“It is that.” T-Rex’s expression was dark under the shadow of his hat. He pulled the truck onto the road. “No comment.”

“Where are we going?”

“My office. For questioning.”

“Wait a minute. I’m starving. I need a shower. I have to change my clothes. And make some phone calls.”

“And people in Hell want ice water,” T-Rex said with a smirk.

“So you’re taking me to Hell, or to Sagebrush?” Lacey inquired. “But wait, I repeat myself.”

“Don’t get smart with me! You’re going to answer our questions,” the sheriff said.

“Why? Am I under arrest?”

“Not yet,” he snarled, “but it can be arranged.”

In the backseat, Firestone cleared his throat.

“You’re treating me like some kind of criminal?” Lacey was so angry she could spit. “I’m a member of the press. I’m not saying a word to anybody until I get some coffee and some food and I make a few phone calls. And I’m not eating your lousy jail food.”

The sheriff stopped the SUV in the middle of the road. “We can do this one of two ways.”

“Want to try it the stupid way? Arrest me! Go ahead. Arrest a reporter who didn’t commit a crime. You’ll have to drag me out of this truck in front of the media and I guarantee you it will not be a pretty picture. You could add it to your collection. And I will promptly lawyer up and you won’t get a word out of me. But I
will
write my exclusive, and I
will
have words to say about you and your department. Now, what was the other way?”

T-Rex pressed his lips together and his face turned bright red. Firestone stepped in like a man defusing a live bomb.

“Sheriff, the town is full of reporters. Major media from all over the state. Maybe even out of state. Lots of TV cameras. You really want that kind of headache?”

More of her reporting tribe must have come to town since news of Tucker’s escape and her abduction got out. At the moment, Lacey was grateful for the competition.

“It won’t hurt to go to a restaurant, and sort this out like adults,” Firestone continued smoothly. “The posse’s still out there. We got our people out there. They know Cole Tucker is probably on horseback. If Lacey’s been riding for, say, three, four, five hours, he’s had that much time to get away, most likely in the opposite direction. Gives us a better radius to work with. We got time.”

“Guess you got a point there.” The sheriff knew when he was stalemated. T-Rex put the truck in drive again and turned toward her, a slightly paler shade of red. “Okay. We’ll do it your way. We’ll all go get something to eat. Together. But you tell me something here and now, Miss Smithsonian. How did Cole Tucker force my deputy to take off the cuffs and the waist chain? I want the truth, the unvarnished truth.”

Like I’d varnish it for you.
Lacey smoothed her hair back. “He didn’t force him. Tucker asked Grady nicely to unlock the cuffs and chains, and Grady did.”

“He did what? You’re lying to me, Smithsonian. Tucker overpowered Grady. Somehow.”

“You’ve already reamed out Grady, so why ask me? You don’t think your deputy is telling the truth?” They stared at each other for a moment. “Tucker
fooled
Grady,
and it wasn’t hard, because your deputy is a fool. Tucker told him it was a shame he couldn’t even hug me after all the trouble I went to, to come see him. Grady thought about it. Then he told Tucker it would be on him and Tucker would owe him one. They laughed, the way all you good old boys do. Grady unlocked the cuffs, and Tucker shook off the chains, grabbed him and did something to his neck. Grady slipped to the floor like a sack of flour. That’s when Tucker, um, threw me over his shoulder and— You know the rest.”