Soul Deep (9 page)

Jack hadn’t wanted to get outsiders involved
in his problems, but Janet had made him realize that he really had
no choice, not if he wanted to protect his horses and find the
shooter.

When Taylor was done, Sheriff Rove bent down
to examine the wound. “Sure looks like a graze to me. You say you
found the slug?”

Jack reached into his coat pocket and drew
out the plastic sandwich bag that held the slug. “Ms. Killeen found
it embedded in the barn wall. I’ll take you outside and show you
where she found it when you’re finished here.”

The sheriff took the bag, looked at the slug.
“It’s a forty-five for sure. You’re the one who found it,
ma’am?”

Janet stood at a respectful distance beside
Chuck. “Yes.”

Because she’d been here when the shooting had
happened, Janet would probably be asked to make a statement. Jack
hated seeing her get dragged into this. He didn’t want her having
nightmares again.

The sheriff was still examining the slug, a
frown on his face. “I had some hunters report a forty-five stolen
from one of their vehicles a couple of days before the storm hit—a
Kimber 1911 with custom camo grips. They admitted to trespassing on
your land and said they thought you had taken it to get back at
them.”

“Is that so? Why is this the first I’ve heard
about it?”

Sheriff Rove handed the plastic bag with the
slug over to his detective. “I didn’t want to bother you. I figured
it was bullshit.”

“It
is
bullshit.” Jack had never
stolen anything from anyone. “We had contact with a party of
hunters a few days before the storm broke. I asked them to leave my
land, but I sure as hell didn’t take a firearm from them.”

Then Janet spoke up. “Could they have planned
this? Maybe they reported the weapon stolen, then used it to shoot
Chinook to get back at you. That way, there’d be a record of the
pistol being stolen if it were ever found. They’d be off the
hook.”

That was an interesting thought.

The sheriff shot Jack an amused look. “Just
because the gun that was stolen was a forty-five and this slug is a
forty-five doesn’t mean the two are connected in any way.
Forty-five handguns are very common, ma’am.”

Jack didn’t like Rove’s response. True, Rove
was an old dog, but that was no excuse for dismissing a woman’s
opinion out of hand, especially when that woman was a hell of a lot
smarter than he was. “Ms. Killeen is an FBI special agent.”

Rove’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly.
“It’s a good theory, I guess, but that’s giving these fellows
entirely too much credit. I doubt they can chew gum and tie their
boots at the same time, much less come up with a plan like that.
Besides, they cleared off the day before the storm, headed back to
Denver. They wanted to catch a flight home before the snow started
flying.”

But Janet had gotten Jack thinking.
He
hadn’t taken the weapon, but that didn’t mean one of his men
hadn’t. What better way to commit a crime than to do it with a
weapon that couldn’t be tied to you?

Of course, Sheriff Rove was right. The fact
that both weapons had been forty-fives could easily be a
coincidence. Up here, everyone owned at least one.

The detective put away his camera. “With your
permission, Mr. West, I’d like to interview everyone who was on the
property the day your stallion was shot—family, friends,
employees.”

Jack had expected as much. “I’ll provide you
with a list of our personnel and arrange for you to speak privately
with each one of them in my office.”

He hoped Taylor had better luck finding
answers than Chuck had.

“Thank you.”

“Boy, I tell you, it sure is a mystery.” The
sheriff shoved both of his hands in his pockets, which was probably
where he kept them most of the time.

“It can’t be that big of a mystery,” Janet
said. “Either it was an accident, or it was deliberate. If it was
deliberate, then we need to look for motive. Bullets are fired from
weapons held by people who have some reason for pulling the
trigger. It’s not like this bullet came from outer space.”

Sheriff Rove’s round cheeks turned red, and
he immediately tried to cover his ass. “What I meant was that it’s
a mystery as to why anyone would want to harm such a fine animal.
Normally, we send animal control to respond to these kinds of
calls, but I take a special interest in what happens at the
Cimarron.”

Maybe it was time for Jack to take a special
interest in county elections and see that they got some new blood
in the sheriff’s office.

“Chuck, will you see Ms. Killeen safely back
to the house?” Jack turned to Taylor. “If you’ll give me a moment
to get Chinook back into his stall, I’ll walk the sheriff to his
car and then see you get what you need.”

# # #

Janet opened her eyes, glanced around. When
had she fallen asleep?

Someone had draped a throw blanket over her
and set the book she’d been reading—a biography of John Adams—on
the end table, her page bookmarked. That same someone had also
started a fire in the fireplace.

How kind he was, how thoughtful. With a few
simple gestures, he made her feel cared for, pampered, special.
Byron on his best day couldn’t have managed that.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sun
had already set, snowflakes drifting lazily from sky to ground.
She’d been asleep for a while.

She’d given her statement to Taylor and then
come here to occupy herself while Jack dealt with his men. It had
taken most of the afternoon.

She pushed aside the blanket, reached for her
cane, and got to her feet, her hip stiff, the muscles of her inner
thighs sore from today’s ride. It had been a long time since she’d
been saddle sore. She made her way out into the hallway, where she
heard music coming from the gym—Led Zeppelin’s “Black Dog.”

She walked down the hall and found the door
open. Wearing a black Army Ranger tank and black gym shorts, Jack
stood at a cable machine doing standing cable flyes. He didn’t seem
to notice her, but worked his way through the set, exhaling each
time he drew his hands together in front of his chest, the muscles
of his arms and shoulders taut.

Now she knew why his body felt so hard and
muscular.

He finished the last set, released the
cables, and played a few chords of air guitar before reaching for
his stainless steel water bottle.

Not wanting to startle him—or get caught
staring—she knocked on the door jamb.

His head jerked around. He smiled when he saw
her.

Her stomach did a flip.

“Hey. Did you have a nice nap?”

“Yes, thank you.” She walked over to him, the
sheen of sweat on his forehead somehow sexy. “Thanks for the
blanket—and the fire. I was snug and cozy. Did everything work out
with the detective?”

He frowned. “That depends on how you look at
it. He took statements from everyone, but none of them saw or heard
anything. I’ve got twenty men out there, and not one of them
noticed when someone aimed a gun at the ranch’s prized
stallion?”

“I’m sorry. It must be incredibly
upsetting.”

“I thought I’d burn off some frustration and
take a shower before making dinner.”

“Don’t let me bother you.”

“Why don’t you join me?”

She blinked. “You’re serious?”

He was. “You can work in between my
sets.”

There was no reason she couldn’t. She hadn’t
lifted weights since being shot, but that was only because she’d
had to devote all her time and energy to physical therapy.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” She hurried to
her room, changed into a pair of yoga pants, a sports bra, and an
old T-shirt, then pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail.

In less than ten minutes, she was back in the
gym, where Brett Eldredge was singing “Beat of the Music.” So Jack
wasn’t just a classic rock guy.

“What kind of workout do you usually do?”

“I haven’t done anything since I was shot. I
just had too much else going on.” She figured he needed to know
that. “I used to aim for three days a week on weights—one day for
chest, shoulders, and triceps, one for back, abs and biceps, and
one for glutes, hamstrings, quads, and calves.”

He nodded. “I’m doing chest and shoulders
today, so why don’t we start there?”

They took turns doing chest press, triceps
press, and more cable flyes, Jack adjusting the weight, spotting
for Janet, and encouraging her. She tried not to stare at him while
he lifted, then gave up, the sight of all that man and shifting
muscle more than she was able or willing to deny herself. As they
moved from one set to the next, she grew more and more aroused
until she was certifiably horny.

She hadn’t felt like this in ages.

At first, they talked about the sheriff’s
visit. The guy was an idiot as far as Janet could tell, and she
told Jack so. “I don’t think he plans on doing anything.”

“Neither do I.”

“Who went with you when you confronted the
hunters?” The frown on his face told her that he knew where she was
headed with that question.

“You think one of them might have taken
it.”

“I know you don’t want to doubt your men, but
I find it highly unlikely that some stranger walked out of a
blizzard, shot Chinook without being seen, then disappeared into
the storm.” She could see in his eyes that it hurt him even to
consider that one of his men might have betrayed him.

He had such expressive eyes.

“I understand what you’re saying. If one of
them planned to get back at me, it might make sense for him to
acquire a firearm that couldn’t be traced to him.”

“It might be a total coincidence that both
weapons are forty-fives.”

“Then again, it might not.” He stopped to
take a drink of water. “I already had Chuck make up a list of the
dozen men who went with me. I faxed it to the detective this
afternoon.”

So he’d already been thinking along those
lines.

Smart man.

The conversation drifted from the shooting to
working out and then to music. By the time they were finished, she
was sweaty, and her arms felt like linguine, endorphins humming
through her veins, where they collided with a healthy dose of
pheromones.

“That’s the second thing you’ve done today
that you haven’t done in a while. How did it feel?” He turned off
the iPod, the room going silent.

“It felt terrific.” She wanted so badly to
kiss him.

No, kissing wouldn’t be enough. She wanted to
rip his clothes off and make good use of the weight bench. Then she
remembered why she couldn’t have sex with him, or why it would be
very awkward and possibly mortifyingly embarrassing if she tried,
and her good mood plummeted.

“I should shower,” she said.

Then she turned and walked back to her
room.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jack showered and dressed, then called Nate
to give him an update.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come home?
They’ve reopened the highway. Megan and Emily can last a few days
here without me. She’s got her brother and his posse nearby if she
needs anything.”

“No, son, there’s no need for you to head up
the canyon. Sheriff Rove seems to have it all in hand.”

“Sheriff Rove is an idiot, and you know it.
That man is so fat and lazy he probably hasn’t seen his own dick in
twenty years.”

That was true enough.

“His detective sergeant, a young man by the
name of Taylor, seems to know what he’s doing. He came and
photographed the whole thing and interviewed all the men
yesterday.”

“I think I should be there.”

Jack hadn’t wanted to come out with this, but
he could see he didn’t have a choice. “Truth is, son, I’ve got
company, and the privacy has been good.”

A long pause.

“Are you entertaining a lady friend, old
man?”

Nate had never been stupid.

“As a matter of fact, I am. Do you remember
Janet Killeen?”

“Isn’t she that pretty FBI agent you tossed
off the property last winter?”

Had it really been that bad?

“She was on her way up to the Forest Creek
Inn in Scarlet when she went off the road about a mile from the
turnoff to the high pasture. She spent almost twenty-four hours in
her car. CDOT had all but buried it by the time I found her. I
brought her here, and we’re having a good time.”

“I see.” The tone of Nate’s voice left no
doubt as to what exactly he thought Jack meant by “good time.”

“Not
that
kind of good time.” Not yet,
anyway, but Jack wasn’t in a hurry.

“She was badly wounded, wasn’t she? I heard
she might not walk again.”

“She is walking, though she uses a cane.
Being here with the horses has been good for her.” He didn’t share
with Nate the fact that Janet was suffering from nightmares. That
was her personal business.

“It’s just the
horses
that are good
for her?”

Smart ass.

“She grew up on a farm, and today we got her
up on Buckwheat. It was the first time she’d ridden since being
shot. She’s a good rider and has a natural touch with horses, even
Chinook.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Nate truly did
sound pleased.

“I’m glad I have your approval.” Jack meant
it as a joke, but he truly did feel relief at his son’s
reaction.

Nate and his mother had been very close. It
was one thing for Nate to encourage him to date. It was something
else for Nate to feel comfortable with Jack bringing a woman into
their home.

“What I don’t like is some shooter walking
around on our land while you’re busy with the lovely Ms.
Killeen.”