Gene roared with laughter. “I’m going to share that with Paul next time I see him.”
Finished with the bits, Gene hung the bridles back up on a hook. Then, placing an arm over Lori’s shoulder, he walked out of the barn with her, heading for the main house.
He remained quiet, thinking of
Hosteen
Silver’s message. He’d said that as the unlikely happened, the lost one would show him the way. He’d just seen Grit accept a rider, and that was as unlikely as things got. As for the second part, Lori had been searching for direction in her life....
An explosive bang suddenly shattered his train of thought and he heard a bullet whine overhead, dangerously close.
Reacting in a heartbeat, Gene grabbed her hand and pulled her to the ground beside the pump shed. “Stay down!” he said, as he tried to spot the shooter.
“What do we do? He’s armed and we aren’t,” she whispered. “And I don’t even have my cell phone.”
“Me neither, so our only chance is to work our way to the house. I’ve got my rifle in there and can even the odds. Once we’re inside, stay away from the windows and doors and call the sheriff’s department in Cortez. If the sniper tries to come in, lock yourself up in one of the rooms and stay flat on the floor. Let me deal with him.”
Moving in a crouch, they worked their way to the corner of the shed, watching in every direction as they hugged the walls. There were no more shots. Now all they had to do was make a run for the back door—across about a hundred feet of open ground.
Lori took a quick glance around the corner of the pump house. “Maybe that’s it. He took his best shot, missed, then decided to take off.”
Gene shook his head, motioning for her to be silent. It was quiet for about a minute, then a pair of doves suddenly flew out from beneath a tree beside the house.
Someone was close. As Gene listened he heard muted footsteps.
“He knows our plans and is between us and the house now,” Gene whispered. “Stay low and circle back around the pump house, then head for the barn. Use the pump house to screen your movements. We won’t be able to reach the pickup or get to the house without giving him a clear shot, so we’ll have to use the horses to get away. When we reach the barn I’ll grab a bridle and get Ace out of his stall. We’ll ride double and head for Crossroads Ranch. Devon and his dad will help us out.”
They made it back to the barn double time. Gene got the bridle on Ace as Lori grabbed Grit’s halter. “Ace doesn’t like me. Let me take Grit. It’ll be faster than riding double,” she said.
“Yeah, okay. Let’s go,” he whispered.
She led Grit out of his stall, but as she passed by Ace, the gelding slipped Gene’s grip on the reins and spun, ready to kick.
“Ace, quit!” Gene grabbed the reins and gave them a quick tug, then took a second bridle from a hook. “Here, use this on Grit instead of the halter and rope. You’ll have more control.”
She made the change in seconds, then started to lead the horse out. Suddenly a dark figure blocked their way.
“That’s far enough,” the man ordered, pointing a Western-style revolver at Gene. The weapon fit the situation—the cowboy with the .44 wore a red bandanna over his face like an outlaw from an old Western. “The woman comes with me.”
Gene, his hand still holding Ace’s reins, moved closer. A few more steps and he’d make a move for the man’s gun.
“I’m not after you, Redhouse,” the man said. “Stop or I’ll gun you down.”
The man’s voice sounded familiar to Gene, but he couldn’t put a name to it. “Who sent you?” Gene demanded, hoping to stall.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” the man spit out. “You, sweetie,” he said, pointing the gun at Lori, who hadn’t moved. “Let go of the reins and come with me if you ever want to see Redhouse again.”
Lori was holding Grit tightly. He was prancing nervously, ears pinned back. “All right.” She let go of Grit’s reins, then took a step forward.
Grit, already spooked, snorted, ducked his head, then suddenly brushed past Lori at a gallop.
The gunman jumped back, but the horse caught his outstretched arm and spun him around, knocking him face-first into the barn door. Grit thundered past him out into the paddock, bucking like a wild mustang.
Their would-be kidnapper, who’d dropped his gun, spun around in a panic, trying to find his weapon.
Gene leaped forward, doubling the guy up with a punch in the gut. He followed with an uppercut to the chin that bounced the back of the man’s head against the side of the barn with a hollow thud.
The man ducked his head and hurled himself at Gene, but Gene raised his foot and met his charge with a boot to the chest. The blow forced Gene backward, but his opponent was knocked to the ground, landing with his back against the wall.
Seeing that Lori had already retrieved the man’s gun, Gene yanked the bandanna off their assailant’s face.
Now
he recognized the guy. Gene took a step away from the dazed man, who was rubbing the back of his head and cursing, his lips moist with blood.
“Well, if it isn’t Duane Hays,” Gene said. “I thought they’d thrown you into the county jail after your last brawl.”
Never taking his eyes off Hays, Gene took the offered revolver from Lori, then asked her to go to the house and call 911. While Lori took off, Gene remained with his prisoner.
“I want to know who hired you, Hays. Keep in mind that no one around here would say a word if I ended it right here for you. You came onto my property and started shooting, held us at gunpoint, then tried to kidnap the woman. I have a witness, and that’s all the sheriff will need to know.”
“I need to reach for my wallet so I can show you something,” Hays said.
“Then do it slowly, Hays. If you make the wrong move, it’ll be the last thing you do.” For emphasis, Gene cocked the hammer with his thumb.
Duane moved carefully, his eyes on Gene. “Chill out, will you, and keep your finger away from that hair trigger. All I was doing was trying to make enough money to get me out of this rat hole of a county. After your neighbor fired my ass, I haven’t been able to find work anywhere. Times have been tough. My trailer got repoed last week and I’m living out of my truck.”
“You should have thought of all that before you showed up for work falling down drunk.”
“Yeah, yeah, I hear you.” He brought out his wallet and showed Gene one half of a hundred-dollar bill. “The guy told me I’d get the other half when I delivered the woman. Without her I’ve got nothing.”
“That’s getting pretty desperate. What were you supposed to do with her?” Gene pressed.
“Deliver her, alive and well. That’s it. He insisted that the deal was off if I hurt her.”
“
Who
told you? You must have met the man if he gave you half the C-note.”
“I was at the Crazy Horse Tavern over in Cortez. The bouncer threw me out on my butt when I came up five bucks short on my tab. That’s when this dude came up to me.”
“Who? And I won’t repeat the question.”
“Never met the guy before. Just a regular white guy—about five-ten, not thin, not fat, clean shaven. Had on a dark windbreaker and a ball cap.”
“That doesn’t tell me much,” Gene growled.
“I’m not keeping anything from you. It was dark outside, I was wasted and that’s all I can remember.” He added, “He was a white-collar city dude, too, not a working man.”
“How could you tell?”
“He gave me a hand up off the ground and his palm was soft, like a baby’s.”
“Okay, so where were you supposed to meet this accountant type after you had Lori?”
“I was told to call him by a certain time and he’d give me the details. He also told me not to be late calling, or he’d be long gone. He said he’d assume I fouled things up and skedaddle.”
“What time did he give you?” Gene showed Duane his watch.
“Fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “I picked up a nail and had to change a flat, then I had to wait till you two came outside. My bet is that he’s in the next county by now. That guy was as jumpy as a toad in a hot skillet.”
Gene started to press Hays for more information, but heard the wail of a police siren.
A second later Lori ran back into the barn. “There was an officer in the area, so the deputy’s heading straight here. We’ll need to let him in. Shall I go?”
Gene fished a key out of his pocket and handed it to her, then gestured for her to come closer. “The lock inside needs the code word
bear,
” he whispered in her ear.
She smiled. “I’ll be right back.”
L
ORI SAT IN
G
ENE
’
S LIVING room, waiting for the police to finish questioning him. Sheriff’s deputies had already placed Duane Hays in the backseat of a patrol car and spoken to her.
The deputy who’d questioned Gene eventually came back into the room, and Gene followed seconds later. “Ms. Baker, we’re taking the suspect to the station now. Our detectives will continue to question him there. If Hays knows who hired him, he’ll probably make a plea deal and give us a name,” the deputy said. “We’ll be in touch.”
“What about the phone number he was supposed to call?” Gene asked.
“We’ll be checking that out, too, but it was probably a burn phone, a cheap, prepaid throwaway.”
After all the deputies left, Lori sat on the couch with Gene. “So much for a few days in paradise.”
He gave her surprised look. “Do you really see Two Springs that way?”
She smiled, sensing how much the possibility pleased him. “I can’t imagine a better life than owning a place like this one. Sure, there’s hard work, but it’s the kind that satisfies you. Of course, I’d have to save up for decades before I could afford to buy a ranch even half this size.”
“I hear you. I worked as a long-haul trucker for years just to get the down payment together. In those days I practically lived behind the wheel and slept at truck stops, but knowing what my goal was made it bearable.”
“I’m hoping to take the next step up by restoring my house, then selling it at a profit. If the market ever picks up, that is.”
“Take it one step at a time,” he said, then stood. “We better get going. We can’t stay here anymore. Whoever hired Hays obviously knows about my ranch. We’ll have to find a place where backup’s close by and where we can sleep without having one eye open.”
“That would be great, but we’ve exhausted all the possibilities.”
“No, not yet, we haven’t. When I’m in a bind I can always count on my brothers to come through for me. I trust them and you can, too.”
“Trust…that’s never come easily to me. Does it to you?” she asked, meeting his gaze.
“No, I’ve seen too much of life.”
“So you do understand why I hold back.”
He paused, then nodded slowly. “You want to know that I won’t break your heart somewhere along the way,” he said. “But although I would do everything in my power not to hurt you, I can’t promise that won’t happen.”
“I know,” she said in a quiet voice. “If only we could just close our eyes, wish really hard and make all our dreams come true.”
“Sometimes what we need to be happy is right in front of us. We just have to find the courage to claim it.”
She felt herself drowning in that steady gaze. Before she could reach out to him, he stood and walked to the window.
“Get your things,” he said. “We have to get moving before this guy realizes that his plan fell through and tries something else.”
Chapter Fourteen
Car trips always made her sleepy and it was no different now in Gene’s smooth-riding pickup. Somehow she’d drifted off and didn’t wake up until they reached the outskirts of Hartley.
She opened her eyes with effort and looked around, trying to reorient herself. “Oh, jeez, I didn’t mean to drift off again while you were driving. You should have woken me up!”
“You were exhausted, and I figured that since tomorrow’s Sunday I’ll catch some sleep once we get to Paul’s.”
“I never heard you call him.”
“That’s because I haven’t—not yet anyway.”
“It’s late. Maybe he’s asleep.”
He shook his head. “Doubtful. Paul doesn’t sleep much these days. After being involved in a shoot-out that left him wounded and his partner dead, Paul’s changed, both inside and out. He’s struggling with a lot of unresolved issues.” He glanced at her and shook his head, preempting any questions. “I can’t say more. One Navajo shouldn’t speak for another.”
They soon arrived at the coffee shop and Gene parked in the back.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and got his brother on the second ring. Gene explained briefly that they needed a place to stay and, a moment later, placed the cell phone back into his pocket. “Okay, let’s go.”
They went upstairs and, by the time they reached the top floor, Paul opened the door.
Moments later they were inside Paul’s small one-bedroom apartment. From what Lori could see, the living room furniture was comprised of a large wooden desk with several computers and monitors hung on the wall behind it. Adjacent to it, on a second desk, stood a printer and a small flat-screen TV set broadcasting the local news. A comfortable-looking sofa and chairs were wedged in between both desks.
“There’s been nothing new on your case, but the good part is that the police department’s work slowdown will be ending soon. The two groups are meeting again, and word is there’s finally progress on the negotiations.”
She took the leather chair Paul offered her. Gene straddled one of the two wooden ones around the second table, his arms resting on the back.
“We’ve got a problem,” Gene said, updating Paul on the events with Duane Hays and his secretive employer.
Paul remained in front of one of the computers, listening carefully. “Your suspect clearly has access to some extremely useful databases if he can find you that easily. He might be a Realtor.” He looked at Lori. “Who did you deal with when you bought your house?”
“It was a direct sale by the owner. The house belonged to an elderly woman who held my current job at the DMV. I replaced her after she had a stroke,” Lori said. “I’d heard that she wanted to sell the house, so I went to take a look at it. The place was falling apart, but the price was incredible, so I bought it immediately.”