The High Country Rancher (12 page)

Baylor pulled up the reins of Texas’s bridle, grabbed the saddle horn and mounted up. “We’ve got an hour before dark. Plenty of time to search out a couple of strays I saw up the ravine this afternoon.”

Mariah was next to him on Jericho, looking as cowgirlish as he’d ever seen her. He smiled as she glanced down at the engagement ring on her left hand for the umpteenth time, then back up at him with a broad smile on her lips.

His heart jumped into his throat. She was so beautiful, and so much his. Reaching out, he stroked his hand down her cheek, seriously considering a horse race to the house and over the finish line to the bedroom. Desire, hot and heavy, sluiced in his veins. He was going to need a lifetime to prove how much he loved her.

“Whoa, cowboy,” she said, a laugh in her throat. “Save it for after dark. We’ve got cows to herd.”

He let his hand drop to his side and smiled. “Slave driver.”

Turning Texas, he spurred him forward, and Mariah fell in next to him.

The evening air was cool and crisp, loaded with the scent of new grass, pine and syringa. He’d asked her to marry him and she’d said yes. The solitaire on her finger had belonged to his grandmother. Everything was perfect, save the unanswered questions in the Endicott case, and his ranch hand lying in a coma in the hospital. But he didn’t doubt that Ted Ellis could handle things.

Glancing over at her, he wondered if she could really hang it up so easily for her artwork and him. He was certain there was a part of her that would always be a cop, even after she turned in her letter of resignation tomorrow.

They reached the end of the driveway and Baylor glanced at his pickup, still parked where Harley had dragged it. He planned to hook on to it with his tractor in the morning and tow it home.

The roar of a car engine racing up behind them jolted his nerves. Grabbing Jericho’s reins close to his bit, he hurried them off the road and into the ditch, just as a red BMW zipped by without slowing down.

He recognized that car; he’d seen it once before.

“Damn, she almost hit us.” Baylor reined in Texas and stopped. “That was Rachel Endicott. Where the hell is she going?”

“I don’t know, but she’s in a hurry. What’s up there?” Mariah asked.

“Harley Neville’s place.”

Caution took hold of Mariah’s senses and she nudged Jericho up out of the ditch and onto the road. “Come on, we’ve got to follow her.”

She spurred the big bay horse into a lope, bent on tracking Rachel Endicott. Where was she going, and what was she doing racing toward Harley Neville?

B
AYLOR TIED
T
EXAS
to a low branch and helped Mariah secure Jericho.

There was no moon in the night sky, and the darkness was thick. Only the light coming from Harley’s front porch fixture acted as a beacon, guiding them to within a hundred feet of the house.

Caution put Baylor’s senses on high alert. Instinctively he reached for Mariah’s hand, feeling the urge to protect her. From what, he didn’t know, but something was out of place. Harley Neville and Rachel Endicott just didn’t go together. What was their relationship?

Baylor listened for sounds coming from the house, but heard nothing. No voices, no dog barking, nothing.

“Wait.” He pulled Mariah to a stop. “Something’s not right. Harley’s dog Charlie should be coming unglued right now. You can’t get within a hundred feet of this place without him going off.”

“Maybe he’s inside.”

“Maybe, but let’s stick to the shadows until we figure out what’s going on.”

“Okay.”

Together they worked their way up the driveway, passing Rachel’s BMW and Harley’s pickup in the process, before taking cover behind a lilac bush flanking the left side of the sidewalk.

The front door of the house gaped open halfway. “That’s weird,” Baylor said, increasing the pressure on her hand.

Mariah agreed, wishing she’d taken the time to strap her pistol on, but it was back at the Bellwether. “They could be having a nice conversation about the weather.”

“Let’s just walk up to the door, Mariah. Knock, holler and go inside. I mean, what’s Harley going to do? Tell us to get out, mind our own business?”

Mariah pulled in a breath. He was right. If Rachel Endicott wanted to visit Harley Neville, that was her business, but considering she was a suspect in her husband’s death, a possible murder for hire, the situation suddenly seemed anything but benign.

“I’m going in,” Baylor said, stepping out onto the walkway. She fell in next to him and followed him up the front steps to the open door.

“Harley! It’s Baylor, you in there?”

He pushed the door open, exposing the inside of the house.

Mariah pulled in a quick breath.

The place was trashed.

She moved to step through the entrance, but Baylor held her back.

“I don’t like this. Whoever took this place apart might still be inside.”

She agreed, but they had to call for help and try to find Rachel and Harley. “I’ll stay put if you want, but one of us needs to get help.” She eyed the telephone on the wall next to the kitchen door. “You search for them and I’ll call 911.”

She could tell by the way he narrowed his eyes that he didn’t like the situation, but that he knew she was right.

“Harley,” Baylor shouted as they moved over the threshold and into the abandoned house.

Caution buzzed through her. She stepped around a smashed lamp that had been swept from a table. The drawers of a desk hung open, paperwork lay scattered on the floor around it.

“Baylor.” Mariah trained her eyes on a photo lying in the pile of papers. “Look at this.”

She picked the picture up by the corner, a wave of fear crashing inside of her.

“Damn.” He was next to her, and she fought the urge to cling to him.

“He’s been watching us.” Baylor stared at the photo taken through the bedroom window the first night they’d spent together.

Dropping his gaze to the floor, he squatted, shuffling through the paper until he found another picture. This time he wasn’t surprised as he stood up and handed it to Mariah.

He heard her audible intake of breath. “He took the pictures of James and Amy. He was blackmailing Endicott. But why? What did he have to gain?”

Tension gripped Baylor. “I don’t think he was blackmailing Endicott. He was blackmailing Amy.”

Mariah struggled to get her thought processes around the bizarre turn of events. “But why? What hold did he have over her?”

“There’s one way to find out. Harley!” Baylor bellowed, setting her nerves on edge. Moving quickly, she pulled the receiver from its cradle on the wall.

No dial tone.

Fear etched a path along her spine and she realized they were totally alone. They had to run. To get back to the ranch.

Foreboding locked its tentacles around her heart and began to squeeze. Was Harley dangerous? Was Rachel a threat? She certainly was capable of malice. She’s used it to tamper with Amy’s car the night she died.

“Harley!” Baylor’s voice cut into her thoughts as she watched him move down the hallway and through the house, searching the bedrooms one by one, before he strode back to her side.

“It’s empty. There’s no one here. But they
couldn’t have gone far. We were only half an hour behind Rachel, and we didn’t see them on the road.”

“Damn, would you look at that?” Baylor scrounged in the pile of papers, pulling out the one that caught his eye.

“What is it?”

“A topographical map of the Bellwether.” He focused on a series of tiny circles along the property line separating Harley’s property from his. He knew the area well. It was just outside of the meadow, but he rarely rode herd that far east. The terrain was too rugged and too dangerous for grazing.

“That’s right.” The sound of Harley’s voice, along with the hammer being pulled back on a pistol, sent a jolt of anger through Baylor.

He wheeled, positioning Mariah behind him.

“It’s the Bellwether, and every one of those circles represents millions of bucks.” Harley plastered a phony smile on his fat lips. “I would have shared.”

“Shared?” Baylor pulled in a breath; the puzzle was beginning to come together.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Harley stepped closer and jerked the map out of Baylor’s hand before moving back out of arm’s reach.

“I’m bloody rich. Once you and the lady cop are dead, I’ll have unlimited access to the gold that’s on your property. I’ve already dipped into it, got the assay reports to prove how rich it is.”

The smile dropped from his face and his features
hardened. “I could have been enjoying it sooner if Amy had just gone along.”

Baylor’s hearing perked up, momentarily scooting back his plan of attack. “What’s she got to do with any of this, Harley? She’s dead.”

“She’d agreed to help, with a little persuasion.”

“The pictures of her and Endicott?”

“Yeah. Funny how that worked. I followed her to talk to her about what I’d found, but there she was, sucking face with a public servant.” He snorted. “I couldn’t resist. I grabbed my camera and snapped a couple of shots, then followed them to the motel.”

Harley shook his head. “She made it too easy, and when she refused to screw you out of that half of the ranch in a divorce settlement, I gave her the pictures along with a copy of the assay report.”

A knot balled in Baylor’s gut. “You’re a bastard, Neville.”

“I didn’t know she’d hand it over to Endicott.” A flash of regret shone in his eyes. “And then she was gone, but you made it out alive. It wasn’t long after that James Endicott was up in my face. He promised he’d put you away, and demanded a cut of the profits for silence about the find, but you were cleared of wrongdoing and he had nothing. Still he wanted in and threatened to tell you everything. I couldn’t let him. It was mine. All mine. I had to kill him.”

Harley took a step back. “I’ve tried to kill you
both. God knows I tried plenty of times, but you always managed to make it through.”

Baylor didn’t like the way Harley leered at Mariah, and he reached for her behind his back. Instead of making contact with her body, he felt a metal object as she laid it against his palm and folded his fingers around it.

The letter opener from the desk he’d pinned her to in his attempt to shield her from Harley’s gun.

“What about Ray Buckner? You killed him, too?”

“He saw me the day I took those potshots at you up in the meadow. I couldn’t let him talk and ruin everything.”

Harley took another step back and pointed the gun a couple of times to the front door. “Don’t make this hard, McCullough. Out, both of you.”

Baylor closed the distance to Harley in two steps and lunged for his arm to deflect any bullets.

“Run!” he yelled to Mariah, catching her in his peripheral vision on the right as she darted into the kitchen and toward the back door and freedom.

The letter opener slipped out of his hand as he tried to subdue Harley, but he was stronger than an ox.

Silently he prayed she didn’t play cop, didn’t endanger her life. But his hope didn’t manifest; instead she came barreling out of the kitchen wielding a knife.

Harley’s eyes went wide, and Baylor sensed him pondering his next move.

The hammer clicked, the blast from the gun exploding near his ear. The wayward shot pounded into the ceiling above his head, raining down particles of plaster.

“Dammit, Mariah, get out!”

She froze and turned tail back into the kitchen. Not for a better weapon, he hoped, but to save her life.

Mariah stumbled out the back door of the house, trying to see in the darkness. Her eyes adjusted even as she put together the remnants of a plan. The letter opener and the knife were no match for a bullet. She’d have to find something else to use to take Harley out.

She stepped off the porch and tripped over something.

Plunging headlong, she hit the ground hard. The air pushed out of her lungs as she dragged herself up onto her knees.

A shaft of light from the open kitchen door knifed into the darkness, pointing its beam directly at the object she’d stumbled over.

A wave of nausea slammed into her and she covered her mouth.

Rachel Endicott lay flat on her back, in a pool of blood, her face to the sky, a bullet hole in her forehead.

Panic set Mariah’s nerves on fire and shoved her to her feet, more determined than ever to stop Harley.

The light glinted off Rachel’s right hand.

Keys. The keys to her car. She’d run it straight through Harley’s damn house.

She grabbed the keys, jerking them out of Rachel’s lifeless fingers, and bolted around the side of the house, bent on doing whatever it took to save the man she loved.

Pop.

The sound of a single gunshot froze Mariah in place.

Who’d been hit? Was it Baylor? Or Harley?

Fear rioted inside her, betraying her hope that the situation would end in their favor.

She couldn’t live without him. She didn’t want to try.

Pulling in a ragged breath, she focused on the car, its outline visible in the darkness, and ran toward it.

From the corner of her eye she saw movement. In a desperate attempt to get away, she jumped sideways, but he was too quick, and in one lunge, Harley Neville slammed into her, forcing her to the ground.

She rose up and found the barrel of the gun jammed against her forehead.

“Nice try, but I’ll blow you brains out if you move.”

She swallowed the terror that consumed her and tried to focus on staying alive.

“Stand up,” Harley ordered, coming to his feet.

Slowly she did as she was told, and he jerked Rachel’s keys out of her hand.

“Move.” He shoved her toward the car, then opened the passenger’s-side door. “Get in.”

Mariah climbed into the car, but it was too late to act by the time she saw the pistol butt coming at her and heard the crack.

A jolt of pain slammed into her skull behind her right ear and darkness consumed her.

T
HE SOUND OF RUSHING
water somewhere in the distance rained into Baylor’s dazed mind. His head throbbed and he tried to open his eyes, breathing in the smell of gunpowder.

He probably had it on his clothes. The last thing he remembered was fighting over the gun with Harley. Then the gun went off…

Wincing, he raised his hand to his head, making contact with the matted hair, still moist with blood. He’d been shot, only grazed and still alive. Mariah! Where was Mariah?

His heart rate climbed and he became fully conscious at the instant he felt a jolt and heard the grind of metal on metal.

Where was he? Dragging his eyes open, he stared into the darkness, reached out and touched the steering wheel.

Damn, he was in his disabled pickup.

A barely audible moan sounded from the pas
senger seat and, reaching out, he felt Mariah next to him.

Another jolt, this time the truck inched forward.

Realization dawned on him and pulled all of his scattered thoughts into solid understanding, but it was too late.

Baylor crushed the brake pedal, pushing it as hard as he could.

The roar of Harley’s truck as he accelerated was deafening.

The pickup slid forward, wheels locked as Harley pushed them closer to the edge.

Panic hissed through him. He popped the transmission into Park, but it wasn’t enough to stop the process.

The pickup’s nose dropped over the edge of the embankment in the same spot it had the night of the storm.

In slow motion Baylor watched the tree that had held them bend forward from the force and vanish under the truck.

Horror knotted his stomach and he reached over and grabbed Mariah’s hand. It was that night all over again, the night Amy died. Baylor closed his eyes and waited for impact in the cold dark water below.

It came seconds later. Hard and fast.

Blindly he pulled himself up using the steering wheel and kicked forward, hitting the already shattered windshield. “Mariah! Mariah, we’ve got to get out.”

Icy water spilled into the cab of the truck, sucking his strength.

“Mariah!” He searched the darkness for her. Feeling around on the passenger’s side, he found nothing.

“God, not again.” He couldn’t lose her.

A flash of neon-pink in the dark water outside of the sinking pickup caught his attention. He pushed off the dash of the truck, lunging for the beacon in the water.

Mariah’s cast.

He locked his hand around her wrist and kicked for the surface. He broke through and pulled in a breath, angling Mariah’s head above water so she could breathe.

The current had them. He didn’t try to fight it, just let the river carry them downstream to a calm section of water.

The intensity lessened and Baylor began to stroke the water with his arm, just like he’d taught himself. Stroke and kick, stroke and kick. Focused on the dark shadows of the bank.

He felt the bottom come up under his feet, and carried Mariah in to shore, collapsing on the riverbank. Exhausted, he held her close, unsure what Harley had done to her.

“Mariah.” He shook her. “Mariah!” Panic bulldozed his insides. He couldn’t lose her.

“Baylor.” Her voice in his ear finally calmed him.

“I’m right here. What did he do to you?”

“Pistol-whipped.”

“Bastard. We’ve got to go for help.”

She nodded, then abruptly stopped, putting her hand
to the side of her head. “He thinks we drowned. He’s trying to make it look like an accident. He killed Rachel Endicott. She was lying out back. He shot her at point-blank range. She must have known Harley was the last person her husband talked to. Too bad she kept that information to herself. She might still be alive.”

“Dammit.” Caution took hold of him, and he stared into the darkness, listening for any sign that Harley waited for them, but the rush of the river upstream covered any sound coming from the road a hundred feet above.

“We’ve got to keep moving. Can you walk?”

“I think so. How’d you get me here if you can’t swim?”

“I can, now. After Amy drowned, I went to the pond every day. Wore a path to it and drank most of it, but by the end of last summer I knew how to swim.”

Mariah’s heart jumped in her chest as she considered the courage it took to do that, and she was thankful he had.

Baylor helped her to her feet, and together they started the laborious climb up the steep bank, over rocks and brush until they lay on their bellies next to the side of the road.

She tried to quiet her breathing, which seemed loud in her ears. She didn’t want to draw attention. She didn’t doubt that Harley would do whatever it took to kill them this time. He had millions of reasons.

The shuffle of boots on gravel made her go silent.

From out of the darkness a flashlight was turned on, its beam catching them both in the face.

“Son-of-a-bitch,” Harley yelled, just as Baylor pulled her back.

Harley aimed his pistol and began firing.

Bullets pinged against rocks, and pounded into the dirt next to them.

“Keep him busy,” Baylor said in her ear.

Mariah rolled to the right and Baylor moved left. Terror pushed her forward, but her training took over.

She counted Harley’s shots. Five already, six-round cylinder in the .38, one more shot.

“Now,” she yelled.

The last bullet fired out of the gun and Baylor tore into Neville, hitting him from the left side.

Somewhere in the darkness a rifle shot rang out.

Harley flinched, but both men went down.

Horror inflamed Mariah’s body and she bolted up onto the road.

Where had the shot come from? Was Baylor hit?

Staggering the last three feet, she collapsed in the dirt next to him.

Harley Neville lay dead in the road, the flashlight still in his hand, and a shot through his chest.

The flash of emergency lights came around the bend in the road.

Baylor came to his feet and Mariah fell into his arms, staring at him in the headlights of the police car. He pulled her close.

Officer Kirby, the local deputy, strode toward them, a rifle with a nightscope resting on his shoulder. “Are you both okay?”

“Yeah. How did you find us?” she asked.

“Your dad put an unmarked car on Rachel Endicott after she made bail. He followed her to the river turn and called for backup. McCullough’s ranch hand, Travis Priestly, regained consciousness this afternoon, and told us Neville attacked him with a hammer. The lab found Neville’s prints all over the photos Rachel turned over at the station. He was in the system on an old trespassing case.”

“Rachel Endicott is dead. She’s back at Harley Neville’s place in the backyard. He killed her.” Mariah leaned into Baylor, enjoying his warmth. Their clothes were still wet, but she could feel his heat against her skin.

“We better get you both into the ambulance and warmed up.” Officer Kirby raised his hand and waved to the emergency vehicle that had stopped just back from the scene.

Mariah couldn’t agree more as she stared up at Baylor, knowing he planned to keep her warm for a long time. “I love you,” she whispered, feeling her insides rush with heat.

“I love you, too,” he said as he lowered his mouth to hers.