Colton 911: Caught In The Crossfire

“I don’t think you need to see the insides of the buildings, at least not now,” Melody said. “The stable houses our horses, of course. We ranch hands usually ride them when we’re heading out into the pastures to observe and take care of the grazing herds. The cattle don’t spend much time in the barn, although the cows sometimes do when they’re calving, or if there’s any indication of illness. For now, we could ride out to the pastures on horseback, but I think you’ll get a better sense of the pasture if we just walk this time. Okay?”

“Fine,” Casey said. It would be a good idea for him to borrow a horse when he’d learned the basics and was ready to start his real investigation, but for now he would learn best if he took the time to walk around and look at everything he could from that perspective. As long as—“But you will take me to the fenced area where the cattle escaped, won’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Melody said. “All the hands are aware of it, and have seen the damage to the fence there, too. The other herds are now within different fenced areas so they can’t disappear that way, too.”

“Fine.”

“And in case our boss didn’t tell you, the cows are all branded with a logo that says ‘OHR’ for OverHerd Ranch. Even more important, they’re all equipped with GPS trackers. But the terrain out there isn’t appropriate for driving out to find them, so all we have so far is an accurate idea which way they went.”

“Yes, he mentioned that. Thanks.” Not surprising that the ranch hands were up-to-date—but it was a bit surprising that apparently no one had used the technology to go after the cattle yet.

Although it was a better thing that they hadn’t, if rustlers were involved. Law enforcement was his job, not theirs.

For now, he found himself smiling slightly in amusement as the slender and clearly physically fit Melody hurried off in front of him, as she undoubtedly wanted to reach the pasture that usually contained the cattle—when they weren’t missing. He hurried, too, to catch up with her and stay by her side. He began asking questions about the landscape, the types of plants and the topography, which was flat at first but he saw rolling ridges in the near background.

She climbed quickly over the portion of the long, substantial-looking fence that was chest-high to her, a bit less to him. The way she scaled it agilely made it appear as if she practiced daily. Maybe she did. And he told himself again to quit noticing such things.

His mind landed briefly on his ex-fiancée, Georgia. He and his fraternal twin brother, Everett, had known her from childhood And Everett’s best friend had been Sean Dodd, Georgia’s brother, but she’d dumped Casey.

But enough of that. He had important things to think about now. As he had to do too often, even now, he eliminated Georgia from his thoughts.

The weather was typical for this time of year—November—in this part of Arizona. It was sometimes warm but far from scorching, though it often grew cooler, especially at night. A nearly perfectly blue sky, no humidity. Nearly perfect.

Past the fence, as they both strode over the uneven, grassy ground, he asked what Melody knew about the ranch and its origins, just to make conversation until she got them to where she could show him something significant.

As Melody glanced sideways toward him, her long black ponytail swayed. “I can tell you what I heard, but I’m a relative newcomer here. The other hands have been here longer.”

She wasn’t looking at him now, but somehow her expression had hardened.

Where had she lived before? Why had she decided to become a ranch hand, and why here?

Was she unhappy about being the least experienced of the ranch hands here? He was highly curious all of a sudden, especially considering that oddly defensive look on her face. He asked, “So where did you come from? Is this your first job as a ranch hand?”

She again looked at him. Her brow creased and her mouth tightened. He assumed she was going to tell him where to go, to stop asking questions.

Maybe she didn’t want to think of the past, either.

“Er… I’m sorry,” he began, wanting to back off. “I didn’t mean to be nosy.”

But she responded…kind of. “I came from Texas. And, no, this isn’t my first job as a ranch hand. I learned all about it there.” She turned her attention toward where she was walking, as she should on this uneven area. “And one of the things I know well is that this kind of grass, this terrain, supports cattle well.” She began a description of how she had studied different kinds of grasses and that these pastures seemed to incorporate several, although she wasn’t certain. “Whatever they are, the grasses here seem to feed some pretty healthy cattle.” She started talking about fescue and rye and stuff he really didn’t care about, but she made it sound noteworthy.

“Interesting” was all he said. And in a way it was—considering the source.

He was finding Melody much too interesting… Which had to stop.

He started examining the topography more closely. It was flat in some areas, then rose to low hills and was flat again.

“Hey.” Melody had suddenly stopped talking about grasses. “We’re finally approaching where they got out.”

She kept walking as she pointed out a spot in the distance…and then tripped. He instinctively reached out to grab her and hold her up, although he quickly realized she’d regained her balance on her own.

“Thanks,” she said, anyway, her voice hoarse as she pulled her arm from his hand quickly. She immediately looked away from him and began to walk fast again.

He had an urge to hold her hand—to help her keep her balance. But that would be a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

He had a sense that if he tried it, he’d be the one to trip over his own feet and fall onto his knees.

And he’d be the one to look bad.

She was the ranch hand, not him. She could most likely wrangle a steer with her eyes closed. Even tie knots a lot better than him.

Instead of holding on to her, he’d take a different kind of advantage of her company now, since he’d be on his own for the actual investigation, at least initially, and possibly until another deputy or two was assigned to work with him. And being in Melody’s presence…well, asking her questions related to what had happened here would be a whole lot easier for him than holding any other kind of conversation with her.

Like a flirtation? No way. There were no women in his life now. He didn’t want any, despite how attractive she was. And especially not until he’d learned enough to be sure she wasn’t involved in stealing the cattle.

So—who’d taken them, and why? They could certainly talk about that. It wasn’t something he had much of a notion about on his own yet, not without investigating first—though he did have one potential suspect in mind that wasn’t Melody.

According to local news, Edison’s wife, Hilda, had left him last year and was no longer in town—or so Casey believed, but that didn’t mean she was innocent. Hilda Edison was surely getting up in years, like her ex, so she probably couldn’t have done this herself. But had she arranged for the rustling for her own financial gain, or revenge…or both?

Melody started responding to what he’d asked before, relaying her knowledge about the origins of OverHerd Ranch, which she had already admitted was limited since she’d moved here fairly recently. She understood that Clarence, who had grown up in Phoenix with a wealthy family, had moved to Cactus Creek after college and started the ranch. Then he’d married and he and his wife had a couple of kids, who were grown now and living elsewhere. She didn’t know much about the ranch’s development, which was fine since it probably had nothing to do with the current situation, although it might have been interesting to hear.

Casey could ask Clarence about that, if necessary, or maybe even look it up online. But for now, he interrupted gently and asked instead who she and the other ranch hands suspected in this, and why.

Unsurprisingly, she mentioned Hilda first. The other hands were already gossiping that their boss’s ex might be involved. No one knew how much Hilda had gotten from the divorce, but if she didn’t consider it enough, that could be a motive for her to steal some cattle.

Their kids? From what she’d gathered, Clarence had remained fairly generous with them, so while they were possible suspects, they didn’t rank high on the others’ lists.

Who else? Again, there were rumors, sometimes about political opponents or other townsfolk who didn’t always agree with how Clarence ran things, but no one person stood out as having anything particularly against the man. No, the ranch hands seemed to think it was somewhat random.

“You might check in other areas around here to see if there’ve been other rustling situations lately, and if any of them seem at all similar,” Melody said. A good idea, one he’d already thought of and would make sure Sheriff Krester had someone work on while Casey conducted his on-site investigation here.

“Will do” was all he said to Melody. And for the next few minutes both of them remained quiet. They were getting close to the clearly damaged fence, and Casey, at least, was studying the rolling hillside, mostly covered in grass and patches of other kinds of plant life, but with several other areas of bare soil. There were more pasture areas beyond the broken fence that seemed to stretch forever.

And no sign of cattle anywhere.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearing three o’clock. They’d been out for more than half an hour, and the walk back would also take that long. He wanted to spend some time at the broken-fence site first, too.

There would still be a few hours of daylight after their return, on this late fall day. Still, even if he found something around here, darkness might drop before he could deal with it. It would make more sense to return tomorrow. On horseback, maybe.

On his own, with whatever it took to track the cows’ GPS signals.

Suddenly feeling the urge to stop wasting time and get to the fence already, Casey began sprinting forward. And he noticed that Melody was keeping up with him.

The fence consisted of oblong wooden stakes of moderate height, anchored into the ground, with three rows of straight metal piping connecting each pair of those stakes.

Here, though, four of the stakes had been knocked from their anchors and damaged, with gouges in the splintered wood indicating that some kind of tool had been used. The piping had been removed and stacked in rows off to the side. And the grassy ground beneath the opening was tamped down unevenly, as if cattle had walked through it—not a surprise.

This was clearly not some kind of accident or natural phenomenon. Someone had done it. Probably several someones, since removing the stakes could not have been easy.

Casey emitted a low whistle. “Wow. What a mess.” He kneeled and started examining some of the splintered wood and the pipes, looking at the ground, as well.

“With no tools left here, either, to show how it was done,” Melody said.

“Yeah,” he responded. “I’ll request that my department send someone here to check for fingerprints, but I suspect they won’t find anything.”

Melody nodded her pretty head as she kneeled beside him. “Anyone skilled enough to do this most likely has done something similar before—and knew to use gloves.”

“Could be.” He, of course, carried plastic gloves in his pocket for situations in which he didn’t want to mess up any evidence, as well as a gun in his role as a deputy sheriff. “Well,” he said, “I guess I could start looking for any evidence right here, but—”

“But here’s what we should do,” Melody interrupted. “Let’s find those cattle. We can go on a stakeout on horseback—follow the cows, thanks to the way Clarence has made sure all his animals are tagged. Keep following them until we find them, even if it takes a few days and nights. And—”

It was Casey’s turn to interrupt. “Sounds like a great idea.” Of course, he’d already been considering it—though not exactly the way she said. “And I appreciate your offer, but I’ll do it on my own, starting early tomorrow.”

“Well, of course, I’ll come with you,” Melody insisted. “How well do you know how to ride a horse? I’ll have to pick out one for you that matches your skills, though I can handle any of them, the faster the better. I’m damn good at it, so—”

“Now, wait a minute.” Casey stood up quickly and stared down at Melody. She, too, rose and met his gaze. “I’d appreciate your allowing me to borrow one of the ranch’s horses tomorrow, and maybe longer,” he said to appease her. He continued, “I’ll have to see how things go before rushing back to town, so as you suggested I might camp out for a night or two, depending on what I find—or don’t find. But that’s me. I’m the deputy assigned to handle this investigation, and I’ll do it. Myself.”

Her expression turned into a glare, even as she put her hands on her hips. He noticed then that her nails were short and plain. No polish on them. No lipstick on her, either. Not that she needed anything like that to look pretty. But this way she looked more like the ranch hand she was.

“Then maybe you’d better bring your own horse,” she told him coldly.

They both continued to glare at each other as his mind raced to try to figure out where he’d be able to get a horse on his own—and fast. Could he soothe her somehow in a way that ensured she’d still back off from interfering in his investigation?

She dropped her hands, even as she shook her head, a wry expression on that too-attractive face. “Look, Casey,” she said—and for just then he’d have preferred her to refer to him as “Deputy Colton.” “You’re in charge of this investigation. I understand that. But I’ll bet I can help you since I probably know this ranch, and cattle, better than you. Let’s look around a little bit now and I’ll try to convince you. But even if I don’t, please let me join you tomorrow. I really give a damn about those missing cows, and I’ll do everything I can to save them and bring them home.”

He raised his head, just a little. “Look, Ms. Hayworth.” He, at least, could return to formality. “It’s one thing for me to be out there attempting to solve this apparent crime and to go after any perpetrators as well as the missing cattle. I’m trained to do such things. It’s my job. But I don’t want to have to worry about protecting you, too.”

“Then don’t worry about it. I’m volunteering. If anything happens to me, it’s my own fault. And what if I really can help you?”

He recognized that this argument was going nowhere. “We’ll see,” he responded, then he moved forward to the broken fence and maneuvered his way to the property beyond, intentionally ignoring his difficult companion for the moment.

But he couldn’t really ignore her, especially when, a few feet away from him, she, too, edged her way to the far side beyond the broken fence. She started walking around, looking first into the distance, then glancing down to the ground. Then she did it again, even as Casey pretty much did the same thing.

And he saw some stuff that was interesting, like hoofprints in the grass, but unlikely to be any helpful evidence.

“Okay, Casey, look at this,” Melody called to him. She gestured for him to join her, even as she continued studying the ground.

“Look at this,” she repeated and pointed to an area right by her feet, where the grass had been tromped down and some dirt showed, similar to the ground he’d been examining, too. “See that? There are some hoofprints of cows, probably the missing ones since the prints are fairly new—sharp and prominent. They’re heading in that direction.” She pointed. “South. That’s the way we should look for them.”

Casey couldn’t help himself. He laughed. “Guess what? Your cows left hoofprints over where I was standing, too, and I was studying them when you called me to come over.”

Melody looked slightly abashed, but then her expression again became defiant. “Then, good. We’re on the same page. We can compare and help each other and—”

“I understand you want to help and I appreciate it. But like I told you—”

“Look,” she interrupted, “I know a lot more about cattle and hoofprints than you do. And more about the ranch and pastures, too.” She was being a bit repetitious. He knew that, hadn’t forgotten it. But still…

“I get all that,” he told her. “And I’ve already told you why it’s not a good idea for you to come.”

“I’ll prove otherwise,” she insisted, contradicting him again. She began moving forward quickly, her head down.

But they weren’t going to learn more now. Not here. Tomorrow he’d hurry in the same direction and hopefully find something helpful.

Maybe even those missing cattle…

“Hey. Look at that.” Melody had stopped and was looking down to what was undoubtedly more cattle hoofprints. Only, she bent and reached for something, then stopped. She looked up at him again. “I doubt that any cow dropped that,” she said.

“What?” he asked. He kneeled down beside her…and stared.

She was pointing to an area within a hoofprint, in dirt between fronds of tamped-down grass, and something small and shiny gleamed from it.

“What is that?” He resisted the urge to grab and examine it—and was glad she hadn’t done that, either.

“It looks like some kind of silver charm,” Melody responded in a somewhat hushed voice. “It could have been there before any cattle walked or stampeded around here through the fence during this rustling, but I’ve never seen anything like it in any of the pastures.”

“I think,” he mused, “and I may just be reaching for something helpful to identify some suspects and get this thing resolved, but you just might have found our first piece of evidence.”

Chapter 3

Melody was impressed, though not surprised, when Casey took a couple of pictures with his cell phone, then pulled vinyl gloves from his pocket, picked up the charm and stuck it into a small plastic bag he also carried.

Clearly, he was prepared to do his job, wherever it led him and whatever evidence he happened to find.

The charm was the kind worn on necklaces or bracelets, and appeared to be silver. It was in the shape of the letter G.

“Does this look familiar to you?” He held the bag containing the charm toward Melody.

She shook her head. “Not at all.”

But that inspired her to continue studying the ground in that area, and Casey did, too. Neither of them found anything else other than more hoofprints.

“Do you think the charm was dropped by one of the rustlers?” Melody asked the deputy as they finally gave up.

“Anything’s possible,” he said with a shrug of his wide shoulders as he shot a wry look in her direction. A frustrated look. She wished she could do something—identify the charm, find something more helpful, to ease that frustration.

But she was frustrated, too. And no solution came to her.

“Let’s head back now,” he said, shoving the bag into his pocket. “Maybe we’ll figure things out better tomorrow.”

“Absolutely,” she said, hoping it was true.

The walk back to the ranch house was a lot faster than the one to the damaged fence. But going in this direction, they didn’t need to check for any indication of where the cattle were or who’d rustled them through that fence.

Or whether there were any more charms on the ground.

Not until tomorrow.

And, yes, she would be going along with Casey. It was important to her to do the best job possible here. This ranch had become her refuge after leaving her past behind, and she adored its cattle. She intended to help to save the stolen ones. Period.

She had to give Casey credit for not grumbling or protesting when she said, as they started back, “So I assume that, as the first person to find evidence in your crime investigation, I can come along tomorrow and continue to help you.”

“I assume so,” he said resignedly. He shot her a crooked sideways smile. “And, yeah, we can do the kind of stakeout you described.”

She couldn’t help smiling back and was careful not to make it appear she was gloating. Or at least not too much.

Besides, Casey was one good-looking guy, so it wasn’t hard to smile at him.

Not that she had any intention of allowing her goal of helping to find the missing cattle by working with this guy turn into any kind of personal interest in him.

She’d learned her lesson not too long ago. It was why she had left her Texas home and found a job here, in Arizona, as a ranch hand, after her ugly, depressing divorce.

She knew now that it hadn’t been the smartest thing to marry her high-school sweetheart, Travis Ellison, and follow him to Dallas. They’d only been married a couple of years before Travis, who’d become a big-city banker, had left her for a colleague, a much younger woman named Loretta Lane.

What had made it even more heartbreaking was that Travis had told Melody she was a “country girl,” and he needed a “real woman.”

Whatever that meant, it had hurt. A lot. She had sometimes suspected the worst about Travis before then, that he was cheating on her, but since she’d thought she loved him, she’d stayed with him, hoping they could work things out. At least she’d tried, but it had also hurt that he didn’t seem to care.

That insult had finally led to the inevitable end of their relationship.

And, if being a skilled and happy ranch hand meant she was a country girl, then that was fine with her.

She realized she’d somehow sped up even more as she allowed her thoughts to go—as they often did these days—in that painful direction.

“Hey, what’s your hurry?” Casey called as he caught up with her again. “Got a hot date tonight?”

She slowed a bit and turned to look into his face. His expression was teasing, yet she read some curiosity there, too. “Yeah, sure. With some horses. I need to make sure they’re taken care of, and also want to figure out which’ll be best on our stakeout.”

“Right. Good idea. But you do understand, don’t you, that I’m planning to stay out there till I—we—find those missing cattle? You can return to your place at the ranch anytime, of course, but—”

“And you’ll love it if I quit, won’t you? Well, don’t count on it. I’m in this to win, too. Those cows…well, they’re kind of my wards now. They’re mine, though I don’t own them and just care for them. That’s my job and my vocation. And I’ll do anything to bring them home safely.” Including argue with him, to save the cattle she cared for.

She was surprised that Casey stopped walking, but she did, too. She couldn’t quite interpret his expression, but he appeared impressed, somehow.

Or maybe that was what she hoped he felt.

“Bringing them home safely is my job, too. And I’m glad to have someone like you helping me.”

A warmth spread through her. He looked serious. But—

“But you didn’t want me around and only gave in because I did something helpful.”

He gave a brief laugh. “That’s the point, isn’t it? Something helpful could grow into more. Or that’s what I’m counting on. Do more of it!” He chuckled again.

“Count on it,” she said, hoping she was capable of doing what she had just promised.

“And in case you’re concerned, I understand that the stakeout you described involves sleeping outdoors for possibly several nights, camping out. I’m sure you understand that, too. But…well, if it makes you uncomfortable being alone with me that way, feel free to back out anytime and go home.”

“Same goes for you,” she said, liking his attitude…kind of. He wasn’t meeting her eyes, as if he was embarrassed. But being alone with this man, sleeping alone with him out in the open…well, yeah, it made her uncomfortable, mostly with her own feelings. Damn if she didn’t find this dedicated, uniformed sheriff’s deputy too appealing. Too sexy.

But she wouldn’t act on it, and wouldn’t allow him to, either.

And, in fact, she reminded herself—as if she needed to—she had good reason not to become attracted to him or any other man. Not now, certainly. Not so soon.