Killing Casanova (17 page)

• • •

“Be careful, Jake. Once Carter knows you have that recording, he’ll be coming for you.”

“That won’t happen for a while. I called his place, and he wasn’t there. Jana said you’ve got a client this morning, and Troy is working with you for the rest of the day so he won’t come here. If I find him, I’ll call you in case he’s gunning for me. If I don’t get back here before 2
P.M.
, call Sheriff Harris and tell him I’m on the northwest field in my dad’s truck. Play that message for him and send him to look for me.”

“Jake, just call him from here,” Cassie said grabbing his arms and clinging to him. “Don’t leave and give him the chance to do something like burn you out of the stables again.”

“I’ve got to handle the water on that field or we will lose the whole crop. Carter doesn’t know I’m looking for him yet, and when he finds out I will be back here.”

“Then why give me a backup plan if you don’t come back?”

Her voice had dropped to a whisper, and Jake lifted her chin and kissed her. “So you will know where I am if you want to ditch out on work today and come roll in the alfalfa with me.”

“You don’t really think that makes me feel better, do you?”

“I can see that it does,” he teased, “not to mention that now you’re tempted to take me up on the offer.”

“Make no mistake about it, Jake Caswell. If you don’t come back here, I will hunt you down.”

Jake took her in his arms again, lingering in the warmth of the sun against their bodies. He took one last taste of her with him before she thrust her voice recorder into his hands. “Make sure you let Carter know I have that backed up on my computer, and it won’t do any good for him to destroy it.”

“That is the last thing we want him to know, unless we are going to spend all our nights like last night.”

“Yeah, I can see how you wouldn’t want to agree to that.”

“You can’t see anything, and I’m still not telling him there’s another copy.”

Jake kissed her again, then climbed into the cab of the truck.

Spitting gravel down the road behind him, Jake drove for the alfalfa field. The closer he drew to the chore the more his instincts felt heavy.
Will Carter take her, too?
He wondered as her form disappeared in the rearview mirror.

Jake parked the truck near the wire gate that closed off the field. No one would come and steal alfalfa, but the watering system was another thing all together. He moved quickly, unhooking the pvc pipes from the larger pipe.

Rolling the wagon wheels that transported the system, Jake reset the spigots and moved back to the gate to hook up the pipes. Once the water was flowing and Jake could see that the placement was right, he relocked the gate and climbed back into the truck. None of his calls were any more fruitful than they had been this morning, and Jake tossed the phone into the glove box and put the recorder in his jeans pocket.

One of the sprayers was stuck pointing north, and Jake watched it for a moment to see if it would resume its pattern. When it didn’t, Jake shook his thoughts loose from Cassie and Carter and made his way through the alfalfa to the sprinkler.

The morning light was blinding off the steel sprinklers, which might have been why Jake had not seen the truck pull up beside his. The persistent and monotonous sound of the sprinkling system disguised its approach as well, so Jake was unaware of the truck’s occupants before he came face to face with them.

“Jake,” Carter growled in his face. “Imagine my surprise when my Uncle Ed called and told me you accused me of pranking your little blind friend. Imagine how upset that makes me. It is a good thing I showed up at The Rocking J early enough this morning to see you kissing her good-bye.”

“Cassie has nothing to do with this. You could have gotten her killed last night over that recording. Stay away from her, Carter. She is no threat to you.”

“Oh, I know that Jake. She’s just entertainment. We had bad timing this morning, that’s all. She won’t be any fun, and me and Diego showed up too late to play with you. Luckily for Cassie, I also saw her give the recorder to you so there was no reason to bother her for it.”

“Carter, I’m not interested in involving anyone else in this mess.” Jake glanced over Carter’s shoulder at the large Mexican ranch hand glowering from the road. “Let’s just work this out, the two of us. Forget about Cassie and Diego, and tell me what you want.” Carter cocked back his fist, and Jake ducked away from the unprovoked attack. “I told you before; fighting with me will only make your chances with the women worse.”

With no warning, Carter launched himself toward where Jake stood, and the two of them rolled in a jumble of feet and fists toward the tree lined edge of the road. They came to their feet at the same time, but Carter overbalanced and Jake managed to throw him off before crouching on the balls of his feet, his fists balled in front of his face. Carter slid in the gravel, then rose slowly spitting dirt and blood from a split lip, fury burning in his eyes. “This can’t be settled between us, Jake. Your Cassie recorded me talking about that fire.”

As Carter danced closer, Jake saw Diego moving toward him from the side. He couldn’t see clearly, but the big man looked as if he held a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire in one hand. Jake took the recorder out of his pocket and offered it to Carter, keeping a fair distance from both approaching men. “Here’s your confession, Carter. No one has heard it, and there’re no copies. Take it, leave Cassie alone, and you and I can finish this like men.”

Carter slapped the handheld recorder from where Jake held it out to him, and crushed it beneath the heel of his boot. “Finish this? It will never be finished until one of us is dead. It was my turn that night on the mountain, but you had to play the hero. Now it’s your turn and Casanova can’t save you.”

Carter spit blood into the gravel again, plunging forward to grab Jake’s torso. Twisting to avoid the direct hit, Jake saw in his peripheral the flash of metal from beside him. He took the body blow Carter gave him, collapsing to the ground beneath the man’s weight to avoid the swing of the bat in Diego’s hand.

Jake hit the road on his back, using his legs to pitch Carter over his head toward Diego. The momentum of Carter’s body carried them both toward the river. Jake rolled over backward and came to his feet again, facing both Carter and Diego.

The two fuming assailants crowded in on Jake as he wiped blood from off his eyebrow. Jake’s senses were taut; his muscles strained in expectancy, but not for the last sight that met his eyes.

Silver light glinted and a blur of movement erupted across Jake’s mind as the thick wooden bat strung with wire and bent nails ripped the air between them. Jake reflexively turned his face to the side and braced himself for impact. Jake didn’t feel the tearing flesh or spurting blood; he felt only the caress of willow branches on his cheek as he fell, and darkness engulfed him.

• • •

A whisper drifted through the willow branches and roused his heavy eyelids to flutter. Jake forced open his eyes and tried to clear his mind. It could not have been the trees swishing above him and the lilted lullaby of the creek beside him that stirred questions in his head. Harsher sounds finally breaking through his foggy thoughts confirmed his suspicion that he had heard something else. A smatter of sprinklers hissing in the distance, sparked more awareness, but he sought for what had tugged on his mind.

Still reaching for the absent sound, Jake’s instincts sharpened and he immediately became aware that he was supposed to be moving the watering system on the alfalfa field every hour. His mind was bogged down in a muddy cloud of swirling confusion as he tried to focus. His thoughts would not collect but seemed to run in all directions as if being flung by the powerful sprinklers, too far away to grasp.

In the distorted darkness, Jake’s mind did allow him the brief image of his father’s dark, disapproving scowl. Even in his sleepy haze, Jake could feel the man’s glare at his carelessness with the new alfalfa.

As he attempted to rise from the moist creek bank to attend the field, he was instantly doused in a blinding flash of white hot pain behind his eyes. With a groan, that seemed to reverberate in his brain like thunder to his pounding skull, Jake rolled onto his stomach, pressing his hands into the damp earth, before pushing up to his hands and knees. A wave of nausea stole breath from his lungs as the creek and bank tilted and the overhanging branches of the willow seemed to be reaching down to force him back against the dirt.

Jake sank onto his chest and moaned again as he lay his throbbing head onto the shore of the bubbling stream. His vision swam in a whirlpool of colors until he focused on the crimson stain beneath his throbbing jaw. Pooling in a puddle beside his cheek, blood ran deep into the broken soil, and Jake flinched as its meaning caught hold in his heart. The soft sound of that crying wind met his pulsating ears once more, and Jake closed his eyes against awareness.

“Jake!” the wind screamed this time. “Jake, if you can hear me, make some noise.” The voice was frantic, broken syllables caught between high pressure sprays of water and the unbearable pain in his head
. It was too far away,
he thought with another silent moan, as the sound was chased by the brisk wind above the branches of the trees.

The hot August wind brushed across his dry lips as Jake rolled onto his back, knowing somewhere in his pounding brain he needed to call out to the drifting voice. The parched condition of his throat did not elicit sound, and the attempt screamed glassy shards of pain throughout his aching skull.

Something sticky pressed against his jaw, and Jake tried to move his mouth to shake it loose, only to discover the white hot pain tearing consciousness away from the closing presence of that voice. The slight but jerky movements he had been able to accomplish now stole thought, energy, and voice from his desperate need to make some sound so someone would find him. The darkness began to close around him, as if he was being dragged backward through a tunnel, swallowing him.

“Jake?” Cassie whispered his name into the hot afternoon. There was no breeze, but maybe its sound could still find him. She finished rubbing Jackpot down and gave the mare a handful of kale, Miriam had given her after lunch. Listening to the horses contented chomping, Cassie could almost pretend that the world still felt the same to her. Her mind couldn’t even form that thought without her heart protesting. There was so much of this with Jake that raised the hackles of her protective instincts. Her mind warned her heart to be wary of him; she was falling faster and more thoroughly than she thought possible.

She and Dylan had worked together for nearly a year before he took notice of her. He was careful, quiet, and thoughtful. His strength and confidence attracted her more than anything else. In retrospect, the long pauses in conversation seemed more deceptive than patient. The hesitation she felt from him was more tactical than tender. The feeling had been different from this one, but never having fallen in love before, Cassie didn’t know that there was a difference. She had been drawn to Dylan’s strength, believing it was who he was. With Jake it was his vulnerability, and the immense power he possessed in spite of it. She believed he truly was a good man, not just the appearance of one.

Jackpot nuzzled against Cassie with a velvet nose and Cassie buried her face in the dusty smell of the horse’s mane.
Where are you, Jake?
she thought.

“Hey, Cassie,” Troy’s voice brought her out of her reverie. “Sheriff Harris is on the phone up at the house for you. Do you want me to take you up there or should I just have Jana take a message?”

“He’s just following up with me on the rattlesnake. Tell him I haven’t remembered anything new, and I haven’t seen or heard any more trouble.”

She listened to Troy swearing under his breath and then his footsteps as he walked away. This morning after Jake left, Cassie had filled Troy and Miriam in on the night before, and Troy was fairly irate about the sheriff’s handling of the situation. This would give Troy the opportunity to let Ed Harris hear exactly what he wanted to say.

Turning her back on the rail fence, Cassie leaned back and held her hair off the nape of her neck. It would probably top 110 degrees today. Maybe when Jake came back, they could go to the reservoir. Her afternoon with the MS kids had been postponed until Monday so her time was free. She could use some one-on-one time with both Jake and Jackpot; the reservoir would provide enough privacy and space for both.

Panicked footsteps couldn’t be disguised. They hurry and hesitate all at once. Troy’s footsteps were still measured as he approached Cassie’s perch on the fence, but her heart immediately heard the alarm in them.

“The sheriff wasn’t checking on you,” Troy panted. “He said to warn you or Jake that he questioned Carter this morning, and when Carter left the office he was looking for a fight.”

“When was that?”

“He said a couple of hours ago.”

“A couple of hours! That’s enough time for him to have killed Jake by now. The sheriff thought a phone call
a few hours later
was appropriate?”

Cassie pushed the button on her talking watch and gasped at the announcement of 12:45.

“Troy, get the truck and your two-way radios. Jake’s up at Caswell Farms northwestern alfalfa field. If Carter is looking for him, we may have enough time to find him first. If we have to split up, I need to be able to talk to you, though.”

Cassie grabbed her cane from the fence beside her and began following Troy’s boots on the gravel.

“How far away is the field?” Cassie asked, urgently.

“It’s probably only a few miles, but the access road is rough, and it might take a while to get there.”

“Do you have four-wheel drive?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s all we need; we have to get to that field.”

• • •

Cassie climbed into Troy’s truck and pulled out her cell phone. First she called Jana at the ranch house and told her where they were going. She called the sheriff’s office to keep emergency services on alert, but was informed that EMS was only on alert if you reported an emergency. Cassie didn’t have anything concrete to report. For all she knew, Jake was fighting with stubborn waterlines and she was panicking over nothing. The sinking pit in her stomach argued the rational thoughts, and Cassie held firmly to the radio Troy had given her for confidence.