THE RENEGADE RANCHER (12 page)

Chapter Eighteen

“Where is she? Where can that little bitch be hiding?”

Pacing the length of his couch, he chided himself to hold his chatter to a minimum. And promptly reminded himself he hadn’t switched on the recorder this evening. He’d decided against rambling and would record a summary of this segment of the chase after he was done.

Talking to himself had become a habit. Especially in his office. Frustration would make him look bad and he was never going to let anyone see him in this panicky state.

He’d been checking various places for two days. After the police had finished with an apartment in Fort Worth, he’d taken a visit to see if any clue as to their destination had been overlooked. But to his consternation, nothing. No one had returned to the apartment. Even the paramedics hadn’t returned. Neither Brian Sloane nor Lindsey Cook had called or been to the ranch since he’d encountered them at Jeremy’s home.

One delight, which shouldn’t have surprised him, was the amount of information Brian had collected on the demise of the Cook family. Sloane had managed to discover all the victims, putting together cities and timelines. There were a lot of question marks in the margins of the murder articles. And someone had put together a family tree, including carefully printed death dates.

He’d placed the rendering safely with his other keepsakes.

He poured himself yet another vodka. He’d lost count how many he’d had since sending his secretary home for the night. The decanter was nearly empty. Frustration did that to him. It made him break his rules.

If the couple would run, there would be hours of searching and traveling. He had looked forward to this segment being over. It would take him a while to devise a new plan, find new victims, new rewards.

If they had run...

“
If
they had run. But that’s just it, I don’t believe they have.”

The police, however, no longer thought Brian had murdered the prostitute. After assurances from John Sloane and his Marine Corps friend that Lindsey was very much alive, Brian was only wanted for questioning.

“That’s it! How could I have forgotten the Marine? He provided them a place to stay hidden. A home or piece of property the police don’t know about.”

Staying in the area meant they’d be surfacing soon. He didn’t have to look for their hiding place; they’d reveal themselves soon enough. Did they really think they could match wits with someone of his intellect?

“The thing about those who hide...they always come out to see if someone’s still after them.”

There was nothing pressing on his desk, just a bit of paperwork that he didn’t need to file until the end of the month. Other than the day he’d closed for his trip to Cozumel, he hadn’t taken a vacation in years. Closing again wouldn’t draw special attention. Perhaps it was time to finish this game.

He filled his glass with the last of the fiery liquid from the decanter. “A toast. May the best hunter win.”

Chapter Nineteen

Brian unfolded his tall frame, grabbed his hat and shut the door. He stood at the corner of the car, waiting on Lindsey to follow. The car would be hot and she already had a layer of itchy sweat accumulating on her skin. She opened the door and swung her legs to the gravel.

“You coming?” Brian asked, not hiding the impatience in his voice. He looked at his watch as if he had an appointment to keep.

Behind the wheel, he hadn’t been relaxed. He’d rarely smiled. Shoot, he’d been more relaxed after being in a knife fight with a murderer. And as many times as they’d ridden in a car together, this was the first time he’d rudely listened to the radio instead of talking with her. Going so far as to turn it up when she tried to mention the emails.

Mrs. Doris Davis lived about an hour north of Mac’s secluded house. A house that hadn’t been as far out in the middle of nowhere as Lindsey had originally thought. The drive seemed to take five times longer since Brian wasn’t communicating with her. He was polite enough, speaking when necessary. But things had changed between them.

It was as if he had no vested interest in her situation any longer. More like he was treating it as an obligation.

It had only been two days with an amateur—her—searching, but this was their only lead. Maybe not even that. Jeremy might have been curious about something he found while researching his family heritage. There was no way to be certain other than actually talking to this woman.

As excited as Lindsey was to be at Mrs. Davis’s home, she was more devastated that things might be over with Brian. If she could just explain... Maybe tell him how much she was scared the connection wouldn’t pan out. How frightened she was of facing a lifetime of running.

She’d messed up. He was right. She shouldn’t have assumed anything about Brian’s motives. With her limited people skills, it was easier to move to the next beach instead of working through problems with people she liked. And she really liked this man. In fact, she could just be falling in love for the first time in her life.

“Lindsey?” Brian stood in front of her, hand outstretched to help. His fingers clasped around hers and, simply put, she felt safe.

Two hours without him on her side and she wanted to cry. How could she figure all this mess out alone?
Stop!
She couldn’t assume anything else. Right now, she was about to verify what type of clue she’d uncovered—useful or useless.

“I feel stupid because I never realized someone was killing off my family,” she blurted, staring at the ground. “If you hadn’t done the research and tried to warn me... What if we never find out who he is?”

Brian pulled her into his arms, burying her face in his shirt. “There’s nothing you could have done to prevent any of it. No one caught on, Lindsey. People with a lot more experience than us labeled the deaths as accidents. Hell, I hardly believed it myself until we found that poor girl.”

“If I had paid more attention, Jeremy might still be alive.”

“Or you could be dead, too.” He tipped her chin so she’d look at him. “You were right about me wanting to stay at Mac’s. But you got the reason wrong. I don’t want you to risk getting hurt or worse.”

“We can go back. Let your brother’s friends take care of the investigating.”

The front door opened. “You two coming in or what?”

* * *

D
ORIS
WAS
THRILLED
to receive guests. They arrived for morning tea, just as scheduled, and she had the service all set. A full English tea along with a variety of cookies. It seemed very out of place, but so did the frilly yellow house surrounded by prairie grass and cattle.

Tea wasn’t really Lindsey’s thing. It was something you ordered cold, with lots of ice at dinner. Hot, flavored with lemon or milk? She didn’t know which would be better with the vanilla macaroons she’d fallen in love with.

Brian sat next to her on a tiny settee, leaning forward across his knees, sipping out of a delicate china cup. His tight jeans hugged the thigh muscles she’d run her hands along such a short time ago. And honestly, he looked very uncomfortable. As if he were sitting in on a tea party for a child.

Doris, a petite woman less than five feet tall, refused to talk about her ex-husband during tea. Brian sipped away, and with every question popped another cookie into his mouth, then gestured back to Lindsey.

“So how long have you two been a couple?” Doris asked from her window seat.

“Us?” Brian shook his head and waved in Lindsey’s direction.

Leaning forward like he was, she couldn’t give him a stern look to stop evading conversation. If she was going to do all the talking, he could just live with her version of the story. “Brian followed me around like a puppy for months before he gathered the courage to ask me out.”

The cowboy almost spit out his latest bite of cookie. He stuttered over the word
no
for several seconds before giving up. Good. He could choke a little more.

“Yes, the poor thing is so shy,” Lindsey continued, gently patting him on the back. “You’ll have to forgive him. Even now, you can see he’s barely talking to you.”

The man finally turned his head, wrinkled the new scar on his forehead and growled a little at her. Doris didn’t catch it. The silver-haired matron seemed to be a little hard of hearing.

Doris put her cup on the rolling service tray. “That’s okay, dear, my third husband was just like that. I love the strong, silent type. At least for a while.”

Lindsey laughed along with her hostess. Brian choked a little more, quickly swallowing more of his tea.

“Now, you wanted to know about your distant cousin, which would have been my second husband, Joel. Quiet man and terribly boring. I was so surprised to hear about his sudden death. When was it? Almost twenty years ago?”

“Yes ma’am,” Brian answered, then shot Lindsey another look.

“Horrid little man, really. He didn’t leave me a thing in his will. Now, if you wanted to know about my side of the family, if they were related to me, they were wonderful people.”

“Can you tell me—us—why Jeremy was so interested in Joel’s will?” Lindsey asked.

“We only got into that a little. I had no idea your cousin had died, Lindsey. The emails and phone calls stopped and I thought he must have been one of those scammer people out fishing for information. That’s why I insisted on meeting you in person. You just can’t be too careful nowadays.”

“Right,” Lindsey agreed. “You never know if someone’s going to lead a serial killer to your door or not.”

On that-below-the-belt jab, Brian set his delicate teacup aside and stood. She knew he hadn’t meant to speed up the killer’s timetable. And she also knew that Brian was the reason she was alive. But she was a bit miffed at him and he deserved to feel a little uncomfortable.

“Do you need the facilities, dear?”

“No ma’am. I just...have a cramp.” He halfheartedly rubbed at his thigh. “So what did Jeremy ask about?”

“Joel sold his family home when we married and moved in here. The house wasn’t worth much, just an old building that the next owner was going to tear down. Thank goodness his mother wasn’t alive to see that happen. Anyway, your cousin Jeremy wanted to know if I might have a copy of the deed. He mentioned something about a trust that was looking for heirs. He was particularly interested in the mineral rights.”

Lindsey was ecstatic that she’d been right. So happy that she had a hard time concentrating on what Doris actually said next.

“I don’t think your cousin could obtain copies of the sales if they were available. It gets a little confusing.”

“That’s a shame. Sorry we bothered you,” Brian said quickly.

“Hold on, Mr. Sloane.” Doris motioned for Brian to sit back down, which he did. “That’s what started our conversations, but it’s not what really caught Jeremy’s interest.”

Lindsey sat forward, almost even with Brian. She wanted to jump up and down. Detective work was fun if you could forget about the murder portion. She wanted to hold Brian’s hand again. Good news or bad, it would be better with him along for the ride.

“You might have noticed all the cattle wandering around here when I am far—” she waved at all her frills in the room “—from being a rancher. I lease my land. Lots of people do.”

Lindsey was trying to be patient, but she didn’t want a lesson about ranching. Brian’s hand reached out to cover hers. Maybe she was showing a little more angst than she had thought. She laced her fingers through the strength he shared and stopped her toes from the rapid, nervous
tap tap tap.

“I not only lease my grazing land, I lease my mineral rights. Did you know you can sell your mineral rights?”

Brian nodded yes but Lindsey was trying to string the information together. Joel. Property sales. Murders. Mineral rights. “This doesn’t make sense. Why would anyone want to kill Jeremy over his house?”

“Jeremy was killed? The internet said he drowned in Cozumel.”

“We should go.” Brian stood and drew her to her feet. His eyes told her not to say anything else. She pushed him to the side; he hit the tea cart, scooting it inches but rattling the china.

“Doris, why is it interesting? I don’t understand.”

“Remember I told you Joel sold his mother’s house? Well, there’s no record of the mineral rights being sold prior. So who owns them now?”

“Let me guess, the house is right in the middle of the Barnett Shale.”

“You’d be guessing correctly,” Doris confirmed.

“I don’t understand.”

“Natural gas that’s being extracted by fracking, dear.”

“There’s our motive,” Brian cursed.

Something significant had just been revealed, and Lindsey was still confused.

“Thanks for your time. It was nice meeting you.”

“You’ll need the address.” Doris handed him an envelope.

Brian ushered her outside and hustled her into the car.

“Why are we leaving? I had a ton of questions.”

“We don’t need to involve Doris. She’s been safe so far. She needs to stay that way.”

“Why wouldn’t she be? And where are we going?”

“We need some answers.”

“You’re confusing me, because I thought we were getting answers back there with Doris.”

“We need more information than Doris can provide.”

“So we should have let Mac search Jeremy’s computer to begin with.”

He slowed at a four-way stop and instead of moving forward, he draped his arm over the backseat and got two bottles of water from the cooler, handing one to her.

“We don’t need a hacker, at least not yet. Property owners are listed at the county tax office. We just need to fill out some forms. I went through that looking for the owner of Mrs. Cook’s property. That’s how I found the rest of your family.”

“Won’t the police arrest you if you show up at the county clerk’s office?”

“Maybe. That’s a risk I need to take. But just in case, I still have John’s military ID.” His smile was back.

Her confidence was returning by the minute. Brian would help her put an end to this madman’s killing spree. Maybe somewhere along the way she’d find the courage to tell him how much she appreciated him saving her life.