Roping Ray McCullen (4 page)

Chapter Six

Scarlet jerked awake to the sound of the wind whistling through the small house. Startled, she sat up and scanned her bedroom.

Outside a tree branch banged at the window, and she shivered, still shaken by Bobby's visit. Cool air brushed her skin, causing goose bumps to skate up her arms.

Wondering why the room felt so drafty, she tiptoed to the hall, but she froze at the sight of the open doorway leading to the back deck.

She had locked that door before she'd gone to bed.

Scarlet eased back into the bedroom and retrieved her gun from her nightstand. She checked the safety, then gripped it with clammy palms as she inched to the doorway.

She paused, cocked her head to the side and listened for sounds of an intruder. The wind ruffled the papers from the file on her desk in the corner, scattering them across the floor.

She scanned the small kitchen, but everything looked in place. Everything except the open doorway.

Her house only had the one bedroom and bath, and that bath opened both to the hallway and her bedroom. No one was inside.

The only hiding place would be the coat closet. Nerves on edge, she braced herself with the gun and inched to the closet. Her hand shook as she closed her fingers around the doorknob and twisted it. Holding her breath, she pulled it open, the gun aimed.

Relief flooded her. It was empty.

A noise sounded behind her and she spun around, gun still braced, but the sound was coming from outside.

She hurried to the door and searched the woods behind the house. Dogs barked, and a figure darted through the trees, but it was so dark it was impossible to see who it was.

Had that person been inside?

Shaken, she slammed the door, then knelt to examine the lock, but the lock was intact, not broken.

She locked it again and made a mental note to buy dead bolts, even a second lock for the top of the door.

Still, tension rippled through her. Why had someone broken into her house?

Her confrontation with Bobby taunted her, and she gritted her teeth. Tormenting her with scare tactics fit his sick, twisted style.

How many times when she was a teenager had he hidden in the closet or under the bed to frighten her? Once he'd even snuck into the back of the car and hidden. When she'd gotten in to drive to the store, he'd jumped up and acted as if he was going to choke her.

Shivering at the memory, she clenched the gun to her side, went to the kitchen and made a cup of hot tea. She couldn't go back to sleep now, not with her heart still racing.

But as she passed through the room, she stooped to pick up the papers scattered on the floor.

It was a work file, one that had landed on her desk just last week. She'd been called to a domestic violence scene and had been forced to pull the two-year-old little girl, Sandy, from her home. The mother was deceased, and the father, Lloyd Pullman, had been entertaining a girlfriend. Both had been drunk and an argument had escalated into a physical altercation.

The neighbors had called to report the screams coming from next door. When she'd arrived after the police, the baby was soiled and crying, the woman bruised with a black eye. The father was in a drunken rage and in cuffs.

When she'd taken custody of the baby, he'd threatened to kill her.

She stacked the papers back in the folder with a frown. Was he out of jail now? If so, had he broken in to frighten her into giving him back his child?

* * *

T
HE
NIGHT
DRAGGED
on as the firefighters finished work and watched to make sure the wind didn't reignite the fire. They had started searching the debris for evidence of foul play and had found a gasoline can a few feet from the barn, tossed into a ravine.

“He probably wore gloves, but we'll still check for prints,” Lieutenant Hawk said. “Hopefully we can pull some DNA from that cigarette butt.”

Ray made a mental note to find out if Bobby Lowman smoked.

“Can you think of anyone who'd want to do this?” Deputy Whitefeather asked Ray and Brett.

Brett raked a hand through his hair. “Not really. Although we might have ticked off the competition. Jebediah Holcutt started up an equine business last year. Breeds quarter horses and trains them.” Brett blew out an exasperated breath. “But this is big ranch country. It can easily support two ranches offering lessons and training.”

Ray considered the possibility. “True, but you're a celebrity, Brett. Given the choice between lessons from you or Jebediah, who are people going to choose?”

Brett shrugged. His brother might be a celebrity, but he was humble. He'd even talked about setting up a camp for kids with problems, a therapeutic horse camp. His wife, Willow, had actually suggested the idea because her son, Brett's little boy, had suffered trauma from being kidnapped and had blossomed under Brett's care and tutelage in the saddle.

“I can check him out for you,” Deputy Whitefeather offered.

Ray and Brett exchanged a questioning look, but Brett gave a clipped nod. “Okay. Maybe we can figure this out before Maddox gets back.”

“Anyone else I should look into?” the deputy asked.

“Not that I know of,” Brett said. “But I haven't been in town that long. If Holcutt didn't do this, we'll talk to Maddox when he returns. He would know best if Dad had any enemies.”

Ray remained silent, still contemplating Scarlet Lovett's story about their half brother. He would check out Bobby Lowman.

“What about ranch hands?” Deputy Whitefeather asked. “Anyone have a beef with your father?”

“I doubt it,” Brett said. “Dad was always good to his employees.”

The deputy glanced at Ray, but Ray shrugged. “Like Brett said, we haven't been back in town long.”

“What about that ex-con your father just hired?” the deputy asked. “The one that was in jail for the cattle-rustling operation?”

“Gus wouldn't do this,” Brett said emphatically. “If anything, he owes the McCullens for clearing his name and getting him released so he could be with his family.”

“All right,” Deputy Whitefeather said. “Let me know when you talk to Maddox or if you think of anyone.”

A bead of sweat rolled down Ray's forehead and he removed his handkerchief from his pocket to wipe it away. But his fingers connected with the card Arlis Bennett had given him.

“Come to think of it, I ran into a man named Arlis Bennett earlier. He took over Boyle Gates's ranch and said if we were interested in selling to let him know.”

Brett frowned. “Gates was the man who set up Gus Garcia.”

“Maddox arrested him for his involvement in that cattle-rustling ring,” Deputy Whitefeather added. “Bennett is Gates's cousin.”

Ray's pulse hammered. Gates probably wanted revenge.

What if he put Bennett up to sabotaging operations at Horseshoe Creek? Maybe he even thought he could force them to sell?

* * *

S
CARLET
CONSIDERED
CALLING
the sheriff, but she had no real proof that anyone had broken in. Nothing had been moved or destroyed. The wind could have blown the file off the table instead of someone looking at it.

But she was certain she'd locked that door.

Unable to sleep, she finished her tea, then reviewed files, working on paperwork until dawn. She checked the locks again before she showered, then dressed and decided to visit The Family Farm. She'd check on Faye and the kids before heading to her office to meet with the couple adopting Corey. Connecting that little boy with a forever home was a reminder of the importance of her job.

She pulled from her drive, mindful of the speed limit since children lived in the neighborhood. Down the block, she spotted a black sedan. When she reached the street where it was parked, it pulled out behind her.

She frowned as the car rode her tail.

Irritated, she accelerated, then maneuvered a turn, hoping it would go the other direction. But it turned, as well. Hands sweating, she made a couple of more turns in an effort to lose the vehicle, but her paranoia increased as it stayed behind her.

She inhaled to calm herself. Bobby didn't drive a black sedan. What about Lloyd Pullman? She had no idea what kind of vehicle he owned.

Her shoulders knotted with tension. She turned into the gas station, then chastised herself for being paranoid when the car finally sped by.

She sat massaging her temple for a few seconds, gathering her composure, then steered her Jeep back onto the road. Still, she checked behind her and down the street as she made the short drive to The Family Farm.

As she parked, she continued to have the eerie sense someone was watching her.

Damn Bobby for making her paranoid.

She steeled herself, determined not to allow Bobby or Lloyd Pullman to terrorize her.

The scent of coffee and maple syrup greeted her as she entered the group home, and she found Faye and Millie, the cook, in the dining room with the children who'd gathered for breakfast.

Faye looked up and smiled, and Scarlet spoke to the children, pausing to chat with each one for a few minutes.

“I dreamed about riding a pony last night,” Corey told her.

She ruffled his hair. “Well, maybe that dream will come true.” The couple adopting him owned a small farm.

Danny, a fourteen-year-old who'd been bounced from foster home to foster home before becoming part of the family here, scowled into his plate.

“Hey, Danny,” Scarlet said softly. “I heard you aced your algebra test yesterday.”

He shrugged and dug his spoon into his cereal. “Waste of time.”

She ignored his sour attitude. Danny acted tough, but it was an act to cover up the fact that he was hurting.

Faye motioned for her to join her in the kitchen. Scarlet followed and poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Joe McCullen's son, Ray, stopped by here yesterday,” Faye said.

Scarlet's pulse jumped. “I'm sure he wanted to know all about me. If I was legitimate.”

Faye wiped her hands on her apron. “He did ask about you, and about Joe. I told him how much Joe loved this place and how he helped build the farm.”

Scarlet gazed out the window at the pastures. Thankfully, the house and land were paid off, but there was very little money to build the stables and add horses like Joe had planned. No money for the garden plot and farm equipment he'd suggested so the kids could grow their own vegetables.

All the more reason she'd stand up for herself if the McCullen brothers challenged the will. She could use whatever amount Joe had left her to help around here.

“Scarlet, is something wrong?” Faye asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I never quite understood why Joe didn't tell his family about this place. Or about you.”

“I didn't understand it, either,” Scarlet said. “But I'm sure he had his reasons.”

Still, he'd hurt Ray and Bobby.

Faye nodded, although she looked curious. But she didn't push the subject.

“I have to go, Faye. I'm supposed to meet the Fullers about Corey in an hour.”

Faye's expression brightened. “Good. That boy needs a real home.”

So did all the kids. But it didn't always happen.

Scarlet squeezed Faye's hand. “I know what you mean. But this is a real home, too, Faye. Thanks to you and Millie and Lois, these children have love and family.”

Faye blushed, and Scarlet gave her a hug, then slipped back through the house and outside to her car. For a brief second, down the street, she thought she spotted the same car that she'd feared was following her earlier. But it disappeared around the corner. The kids were laughing and talking as they walked to the school bus stop.

She climbed in her car, chastising herself for being so nervous, then headed to her office. But on the way, she couldn't shake the sense that she was being followed again. She punched the number for the sheriff's office in Laramie.

“This is Scarlet Lovett,” she said. “Is Lloyd Pullman still in custody?”

“As a matter of fact, he made bail yesterday,” the deputy told her.

Scarlet inhaled sharply as his threat echoed in her head. Had Pullman broken into her house the night before? Had he been parked down the street from her and followed her this morning?

“Do you know what kind of car he drives?” Scarlet asked.

“No, why?”

The temptation to tell him her concerns nagged at her, but she didn't want him to think she was irrational. “No reason. I was just curious.”

“Listen, Scarlet, if he bothers you, let me know. Or better yet, call the sheriff in Pistol Whip. He can make it to your house faster than I can.”

“Thanks. I will.”

She hung up, keeping her eyes alert for the sedan again. Although traffic in Pistol Whip was minimal, early morning commuters were making their way to work. She pressed the brakes to turn into her office, but her Wrangler didn't slow.

Tires squealed, and she swerved then pumped the brakes, but the vehicle sped down the small hill, gaining momentum. A pedestrian crossing the street caught her eye, and she pounded the horn, terrified she was going to hit the woman. The woman screamed and darted to the sidewalk, just as Scarlet jerked the steering wheel to the right.

The Wrangler careened forward, tires bumping over the sidewalk. She was losing control and struggled to keep from crashing into the hair salon, but as she veered to the right to avoid it, she flew toward her own office building.

Seconds later, she screamed, glass pelting her from the windshield as the Wrangler rammed into the brick wall.

Chapter Seven

Glass shattered and pelted Scarlet, and her head snapped back as the air bag deployed.

Her lungs felt as if they exploded as the impact threw her forward.

She blinked, slightly dizzy from the force of the crash. What had just happened?

Her brakes...they hadn't worked...

Suddenly a shout erupted outside the vehicle. “Scarlet!”

Someone jerked at the driver's door. Reality fought through the shock immobilizing her, and she pushed at the air bag, searching for her seat belt. Her fingers found the hook, but when she tried to unfasten it, it was stuck. For a moment, panic seized her. She couldn't breathe. Her head hurt. Her legs felt numb.

Dear God
...she couldn't move them.

Then the door swung open, and she heard the voice again. “Scarlet, are you all right?”

Her assistant, Hugh Weatherman. He must have had a pocketknife, because a second later, he ripped away the air bag and freed her. She was trembling all over as he cut away the seat belt.

“I called 911 when I heard the crash,” Hugh said. “Are you hurt?”

It took another minute for Scarlet to pull herself from the shock. “I don't know.” She tried to move her legs, but her right one was stuck.

“Stay still,” Hugh said. “The medics are on the way.”

She nodded, numb and terrified.

Hugh pulled out a handkerchief and wiped at her cheek. “You're bleeding. Are you in pain?”

She shook her head. “No, but I can't move my legs.”

“The front end is crunched,” Hugh said. “You're probably just trapped by the metal.”

A tremor rippled through her, and she fought back a cry of panic.

“Just hang in there, Scarlet, we'll get you out.”

A siren wailed, lights flashing, and Scarlet laid her head back against the seat and tried to stay calm. A minute later, tires screeched as an ambulance and fire truck roared to stops.

Hugh yelled and waved them over, and a female medic greeted her. “You all right, ma'am?”

She nodded. “I think so. But my legs are trapped.”

A fireman appeared behind her to assess the situation, and Scarlet braced herself as they began the process of sawing away the metal to free her.

* * *

R
AY
LET
HIMSELF
sleep for a couple of hours, but then hurriedly showered, dressed and headed to the deputy sheriff's office. Brett had already called the insurance company to handle the claim. He also insisted that they'd rebuild immediately.

But they had to find out who set the fire and prevent more sabotage.

Ray wanted answers and he wanted them before Maddox returned.

He entered the sheriff's office and found Deputy Whitefeather on the phone.

“Yes. I'll be right there.” He hung up and grabbed his jacket. “Sorry, McCullen, there's been an accident. I need to go.”

Dammit
, Ray wanted to ask for his help looking into Bobby Lowman. “What happened?”

“Lady named Scarlet Lovett crashed her Jeep into the side of the building where she works. They're cutting her out of it.”

Ray's heart hammered. “Is she all right?”

“I don't know. The ambulance is there now.” He strode to the door, his keys jangling in his hand.

“I'll follow you,” Ray said.

The deputy's brows furrowed. “Why? Do you know her?”

Ray gave a clipped nod. “Not well, but we've met.”

“Suit yourself.” Deputy Whitefeather hurried outside, and Ray jogged to his SUV and followed him.

More gray skies hid the sun, making the air feel chillier than it was. Wind beat at the trees, whipping tumbleweed across the side of the road as they turned onto a side street.

A stand-alone brick building bearing a sign for Social Services stood between the library and an empty warehouse.

The deputy veered into the parking lot, and Ray followed, his breath tightening at the sight of the Wrangler crunched into the brick structure. Just as he parked, the rescue workers pulled away a chunk of metal.

He parked and climbed out, tensing at the sight of the medics working to extract Scarlet.

In spite of the chill, sweat rolled down the back of his neck. Had she been hurt?

The deputy greeted one of the rescue workers and gestured toward the Wrangler. “What happened?”

“She said the brakes failed,” the worker said. “She tried to stop but couldn't.”

Ray's instincts jumped to life. The fact that Scarlet had just visited him and told him about her relationship to Joe and the will, then the ranch had been sabotaged and now she'd had an accident, all struck him as odd.

And too coincidental.

Had her car crash really been an accident?

A female medic was leaning over Scarlet checking her blood pressure. From his vantage point, he couldn't see if she was seriously injured.

He made his way to the stretcher just as the medics started to load her into the ambulance. “Scarlet?”

She groaned, and Ray's chest tightened. Blood dotted her arms and her cheeks looked pale, also speckled with blood. The medics had secured her neck and body on the board with straps, so she couldn't turn her head.

He stepped up beside her so she could see his face, but the deputy edged his way beside him and spoke first. “What happened?” Deputy Whitefeather asked.

“I don't know,” she said in a raspy whisper. “I was on my way to the office when the brakes failed.”

Ray gritted his teeth as the medic frowned at him. “We need to get her to the hospital,” the female said. “She needs tests to make sure she didn't sustain internal injuries.”

“Ray?” Scarlet said in a low voice.

He squeezed her hand, feeling the tremor running through her. He couldn't blame her for being shaken. She could have been killed. “I'll meet you at the hospital, Scarlet.”

The deputy gave him a questioning look, but Ray ignored it. The medics loaded her in the back of the ambulance, then the driver circled to the front, hopped in and they sped off.

“How do you know her?” Deputy Whitefeather asked.

“She was close to my father,” Ray said, giving away as little information as possible. He went to examine the Wrangler while the rescue workers stowed their equipment.

When Ray had first left the ranch, he'd worked at a garage. He wanted a look at those brake lines.

The deputy stepped up beside him. “What's going on, McCullen?”

“I don't know,” Ray said as he examined the car. “It looks as if her brake lines were cut.”

A frown marred the tall Native American's face. “First a fire is set at your ranch, now someone cut this woman's brakes.” He lifted his hat and scratched his head. “What aren't you telling me? Do you think these incidences are connected?”

Maybe. Although if Jebediah Holcutt or Arlis Bennett had set the fire at the ranch, they wouldn't have any reason to hurt Scarlet.

But Bobby Lowman had motive to do both. Still, Ray couldn't divulge family secrets to this stranger, not before he had a chance to talk to Maddox and Brett.

“I don't know. It'd be best to talk to Scarlet and see who might want to hurt her.”

* * *

S
CARLET
WAS
SO
relieved that she could move her legs and that she had no serious injuries that she wanted to shout. How could she have helped the kids at the orphanage if she'd been paralyzed or injured and needed a long recovery time?

But as the staff finished running tests and cleaned the small cuts and abrasions she'd received from the shattered glass, she replayed the morning in her head.

Her car had worked fine on the way to the orphanage, but she'd thought someone was following her. She also thought she'd seen the same car near The Family Farm. Had the driver cut her brakes while she was inside with the children?

The doctor shined a light in her eyes. “Did you hit your head?”

She blinked and followed the light as he moved it from side to side. “No. The air bag and seat belt saved me.”

“Good thing. Although we probably should keep you overnight for observation.”

“That's not necessary,” Scarlet said. “I'm a little sore, but I'm okay.”

He studied her for another moment. “All right. But if you feel dizzy or nauseous, come back. You may have a slight concussion.”

Scarlet quickly agreed. Hospitals reminded her of being sick when she was young. Of needles and white coats and sterile odors and...being scared and alone.

She wanted to go home.

The doctor paused at the doorway. “Deputy Whitefeather is outside waiting to talk to you.”

She nodded, smoothing out her tangled hair as a nurse escorted the deputy into the room. To her surprise, Ray McCullen followed him inside.

“The doctor said you don't have any serious injuries?” Ray asked.

“Yes. I guess I was lucky.” Especially considering the way her car was crunched. “My ribs are bruised and I'm banged up, but I'm fine.”

Ray's look darkened. “I wouldn't exactly say you were lucky.”

“He's right,” Deputy Whitefeather said. “Ray examined your car and so did a mechanic. Your brake lines were cut.”

Scarlet's breath rushed out. “You mean someone intentionally wanted them to fail?”

“Yes,” Ray said through clenched teeth.

Scarlet's heart hammered with fear. “I...I can't believe this.”

“Miss Lovett,” Deputy Whitefeather said. “Can you think of anyone who would want to hurt you?”

Scarlet glanced at Ray, her stomach churning. Bobby was at the top of the list. “I've made a few enemies with my job,” Scarlet said, hesitant to point the finger at anyone.

“Someone specific come to mind?”

She ran a finger over the bandage on her arm. “A man named Lloyd Pullman was arrested for abuse. I removed his daughter from his custody. He was irate and threatened me.”

Deputy Whitefeather tugged a small notebook from his pocket and clicked his pen, then jotted down the information. “Where is he?”

“I don't know.” Scarlet wet her lips. Her mouth was so dry she felt as if she couldn't swallow. “Apparently Pullman made bail yesterday.”

“I'll issue a BOLO for him and bring him in for questioning.”

The deputy stepped from the room with his phone, and Ray moved closer. He paused at the edge of the bed then lifted a finger to trace the bandage on her forehead. “Does it hurt?” Ray asked.

She shrugged, her skin tingling at the concern in his voice. “Not much. I'm tough, Ray. I'll be all right.”

“That's not the point,” he said in a gruff tone. “The point is that someone tried to kill you.”

His words sucked the air from her lungs again. Pullman had reason to hurt her. And Bobby despised her.

But Ray had reason to dislike her, too. If she was gone, she couldn't demand the McCullens make good on Joe's will.

Although she couldn't imagine Ray hurting a woman.

He lifted her arm and rubbed a finger over the bruise on her wrist. “You didn't get this from the accident, did you?”

Shame washed over her. On a conscious level, she knew that when a man abused a woman, it was not the woman's fault. But she also understood the vulnerability the victim felt.

She had decided long ago not to be a victim.

Bobby had caught her off guard last night. She wouldn't let it happen again.

* * *

R
AY
SILENTLY
WILLED
his temper in check. The moment he'd seen that bruise on Scarlet's wrist he'd known it wasn't caused by the accident. Hell, he could easily see a man's thumbprint where he'd gripped her.

“How did this happen? Was it Bobby?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “He came by last night. He was...upset.”

“That doesn't mean he has the right to hurt you.”

“I know that.” Scarlet stiffened, then slid her legs over the side of the bed. “I handled the situation, Ray.”

“How did you handle it?” he asked. “Did you call the deputy?”

Her hair fell over the side of her face like a curtain of gold as she shook her head. “I stopped him,” she said. “Trust me, Ray. I'm not the kind of girl who allows a guy to beat up on her. I learned that lesson a long time ago.”

Her words both infuriated him and stirred admiration for her. She might look like one of those porcelain dolls his mother had collected, but she was tough as nails and had spunk.

Her legs buckled as she attempted to stand, though, and she muttered a sound of frustration as she reached for the bed to steady herself. “I don't have time for this. I had a meeting today.”

Ray placed his hands on top of hers, lowering his tone to a soothing pitch. “Don't worry about your appointments. Your assistant, Hugh, said he would reschedule.”

She gave him a determined look. “That meeting is important, Ray. A family wants to adopt one of the little boys at The Family Farm. Corey is counting on me.”

“I'm sure it'll work out,” Ray said. “Now, I'm going to drive you home so you can rest.”

Her gaze met his, a myriad of emotions glittering in her eyes. She didn't like being vulnerable or in debt to anyone, he could see that.

But she was in danger, and quite possibly from her own adopted brother who was irate because of their father.

He made a split-second decision. Deputy Whitefeather would investigate Pullman.

Ray would personally look into Bobby. Hell, he'd planned to anyway.

And if he'd tried to kill Scarlet, blood kin or not, the bastard would regret it.