His jaw firmed in clear displeasure.
Jackie turned to Mr. Kelly. Is there anything else you require at the moment?
The bemused expression on the mans face was comical. No. Unless Mr. Monroe has some questions for me.
Wyatt shook his head. I didnt kill George.
Then there shouldnt be any problems. Ill let you both know he shifted his gaze to Jackie and then back to Wyatt if there are any developments.
Good deal, Jackie said and headed for the door, aware of Wyatts scowl. Come along, cowboy. Im hungry, and Aunt Pennys made meat loaf.
* * *
Wyatt ground his back teeth as the new arrival in his already tangled life sashayed toward the jail door. Who did this lady think she was, anyway? It was one thing for her to go toe-to-toe with Landershe rather liked thatbut he wasnt used to being ordered around. Especially by a diminutive spitfire with big blue eyes and a pert nose.
The Kirks niece. Shed never been out to the ranch before. Made sense if she lived in Boston. Boston! How had she arrived so quickly? Hed been taken into custody this morning. It would take at least eight hours to fly from Boston because there were no direct flights between the cities and another two hours of driving from Laramie, yet she looked as fresh as a daisy on a spring day.
Carl shouldnt be sticking his nose where it didnt belong.
After retrieving his personal belongings, Wyatt lengthened his stride to keep up with Jackie as she left the sheriffs station and headed to the parking lot toward a big black SUV.
Hold up, he said, snagging her by the elbow. She tensed beneath his hand. When did you get in?
We flew in around four. Rented this baby and drove over from Laramie.
Whos we?
Spencer. She tugged her elbow free and opened the drivers side door. Hey, boy. Miss me?
Wyatt peered over her shoulder into the vehicle. A white-and-brown bulldog sat on the passenger seat, his tongue hanging out and his brown eyes staring at Jackie with devotion. He let out a single woof.
Wyatt blinked. You brought your dog?
She climbed in and started the engine. I wouldnt leave him. She gave him a pointed look.
I thought snub-nosed dogs werent allowed on commercial airlines, he said.
Some dont. We flew over on the Trent plane.
Trent? Whats that?
Trent Associates. Private protection specialists. She grinned. At your service.
No wonder she didnt look travel weary and had arrived so quickly. A company plane. Impressive. He wondered what she did for Trent Associates. He tried to remember if Carl had ever said. Probably some sort of admin job, like his mother. Marsha Landers was the administrative assistant to the mayor.
If youre coming, you better get in. With that, Jackie shut the door.
For a moment he stood there in stunned silence. Hed never met anyone like this woman. On the surface she looked sweet and almost fragile with her small stature and delicate features, but hed glimpsed the hard steel beneath that soft exterior when she stood up to his stepfather, the sheriff.
That earned her points in his book. Just as long as she didnt get too used to bossing him around.
He opened the passenger door and eyed the dog, who stared back impassively at him. Im not riding in back.
The mutt looked friendly enough, but Wyatt wasnt taking any chances. He kept his hands far away from the drooling canines mouth. That jaw looked pretty strong.
Jackie whistled softly and pointed her finger toward the floor. The dog hopped down between the captains seats. Wyatt settled into the passenger seat and barely had his seat belt buckled before she took off, her foot a heavy weight on the accelerator.
Whoa, there is a speed limit, he said.
She eased up on the gas. Sorry. Force of habit. Driving aggressively is part of my job.
Curious, Wyatt studied her profile. There was just the slightest hint of freckles across her cheeks. She had a nice jawline and a slender neck. Delicate, even. And what job would that be?
I work for Trent Associates. Were a protection specialist agency.
You said that. But what do you do?
The droll glance she sent his way made him feel as if hed just said the Grand Tetons were molehills. Protection.
He tucked in his chin. Protection? As in bodyguard?
Yep.
He couldnt picture this itty-bitty woman protecting anyone. A smile tugged at his lips. Let me get this straightyoure a bodyguard?
She sighed. I know. Difficult to believe, right?
You could say that.
I get that a lot. At first. She slid another speculative glance his way. What were you thinking I did for a living?
He eyed her authoritative grasp on the steering wheel and amended his earlier assumption. Id have guessed schoolteacher, or principal, even.
She laughed. No. But I do like kids.
A leaden weight settled on Wyatts heart, and he turned to watch the Wyoming sky out the passenger window. Images of his daughter floated through his mind. The day shed taken her first steps, the night shed split her lip on the coffee table, her delight when she opened her Christmas presents. His heart ached that Gabby would grow up without a mother.
As they reached the outskirts of town, Jackie pointed to the computer display on the dashboard. You can put your address in the GPS system.
He shook his head. That would take you the long way around. Well go a more direct route. Ill tell you when to turn.
Suit yourself. So, tell me about George Herman.
The image of Georges battered face came to mind with a fair dose of horror and regret. Had he said good job to George lately?
Wyatt ran a hand over his face. Not much to tell. My dad hired him as a ranch hand about twenty years ago. He was a hard worker when he wanted to be. Had strong opinions about most things and a penchant for fighting.
Her eyebrows rose. Ever with you?
Weve had our share of arguments over the years. He didnt think I was running the ranch the way I ought to.
Any of these arguments turn physical?
He slanted her a sharp glance. She sounded just like his stepfather in interrogation mode. Why would you ask that?
Prior history always plays a part in a case like this. Establishes a pattern. Motive. You two could have been arguing and it turned physical. His death could have been an accident. She looked at the road, then casually met his gaze. Do you drink, Mr. Monroe?
No, I dont drink. And I didnt kill him. Why did everyone want to believe he did?
I didnt say you did. Just pointing out one theory.
Id rather you didnt. He pointed to a dirt road up ahead on the left. Just past the mailboxes, take a left.
She took the turn. The vehicles headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the snow-covered dirt road. Okay. Then who else wanted him dead? Did he have any enemies? Threats made to his life?
I dont know. Hed thought about that while hed sat in the jail cell. George wasnt the most congenial of souls, but Wyatt couldnt think of anyone on the ranch or in town whod want to hurt him. He didnt confide in me. I dont know if hed been threatened or felt that he was in danger. We werent close.
She fell silent as she drove. Wyatt watched the world outside the vehicle pass by. He didnt need daylight to know every inch of his family spread, to see the yawning expanse of flatland stretching off to the left of the road. To the right, the distant outline of the Snowy Range Mountains reaching toward the heavens was barely visible against the night sky.
Does this road get much traffic? she asked, her gaze straying to the rearview mirror.
He shook his head. No. Only goes to the house. Why?
Were being followed.
He twisted around in the seat. Behind them lay only darkness. I dont see anything.
Its there. I caught a glimpse of moonlight reflecting off chrome.
If someone hadnt just tried to frame him for murder, hed think the woman driving the SUV was paranoid or crazy. Or both. But considering that this morning hed found a dead body on his porch and had spent the past several hours in jail being grilled like rainbow trout on the barbecue, he wasnt going to doubt her.
If she said something was behind them, he believed her. Still, he couldnt see anything.
He powered down the window. Cold air swirled through the cab of the SUV. The sound of the rigs tires crunching over the packed snow and dirt nearly masked an out-of-place noise. The rev of an engine. But not from a car or truck.
Sticking his head out the window, he strained to listen, to discern what it was he heard.
A motorcycle, he decided and rolled the window back up.
Anyone at the ranch have a motorcycle?
No. Not that I know of.
Are you buckled in? Jackie asked.
Reflexively, he touched the buckle to assure himself he was indeed strapped in securely. Yes.
Hang on to Spencer.
He reached down and grabbed the dog by the collar as she stomped on the brake and twisted the wheel, sending the big, lumbering SUV into a spin and coming to a halt facing the way theyd come. The SUVs headlights swept over an oncoming motorcycle. The driver swerved at the last second and drove past them, barely avoiding becoming a hood ornament. The single rider wore all black. The machine he rode was also black, except for chrome exhaust pipes.
The motorcycle roared down the road toward the ranch and disappeared.
Jackie made a three-point turn then punched the gas, chasing after the motorcycle. But he was already too far ahead for the headlights to find him in the dark. The tracks glistened in the beam of light. So did the gently falling snow.
Anxiety tripped down Wyatts spine. What if the rider reached the house before they did? What would he do? Was the motorcyclist the one whod killed George and framed Wyatt?
Jackie kept the gas floored, expertly controlling the speeding vehicle on the slick, snow-packed road. There was more than met the eye in this petite package. He added competent driver to his list of her attributes.
Two miles from the ranch, the cycles tracks went off-road and disappeared into the dark.
Whats out there? She slowed the vehicle to a stop.
Cattle. Thats the heifer pasture. Theres a feed shed about two miles out. But theres a fence about a half mile from this road. The gates on the other side of the pasture.
Have you checked that fence lately?
Wyatt took in a sharp breath. That was Georges job.
She tapped a finger on the steering wheel. Maybe its a squatter. Maybe George discovered him. Maybe thats why he was killed.
Thats a lot of maybes, Wyatt said, not liking the idea of someone trespassing on his land. But if that theory were true, howd the killer get my hunting knife, and why put George on my porch?
Theres the rub. Where do you keep the knife?
In the truck, beneath the seat. Exactly where theyd found it. He didnt miss the slight narrowing of her eyes.
Lot of people know you keep it there?
It wasnt a secret. And the trucks always in plain view.
Snow fell in earnest, a blanket of white that not even the headlights could cut through. That motorcycle rider wouldnt be getting very far in this blizzard.
You lock the truck up at night? Jackie asked.
A sinking feeling hit the pit of his stomach. No. I dont.
She started the vehicle moving again. The windshield wipers worked hard to push the snow from the glass. So in the middle of the night, anyone could have sneaked onto the ranch and taken it.
A sense of dread assailed him. Just like they snuck onto the ranch and left Georges body on my porch.
She slanted him a quick glance. Exactly.
Which meant he and Gabby werent safe.
THREE
Once we get to the house and everyone is inside and buttoned down tight, Ill come back and have a look-see, Jackie stated.
Not in this weather, Wyatt countered. A greenhorn like her would get herself lost in a whiteout like this. He wouldnt even chance it without careful preparation.
When they arrived at the house, the whole place was lit up. Carl, Penny and Gabby rushed outside onto the porch to greet them as they climbed out of the vehicle.
Relieved to know his family was okay, Wyatt let out the breath lodged beneath his ribs.
Daddy! his daughter squealed, barreling into his legs in a blur of fuzzy pink footsie jammies the second he stepped onto the porch.
Hey, sweetie. Swamped with love for his little girl, he lifted her up so she could wrap her little arms around his neck. He tugged the corners of his jacket around her tiny body. His daughter loved him unconditionally. It should be enough. But Dinas words taunted him. Left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Carl and Penny hugged their niece.
Gabby pointed a finger at Jackie. Whos that?
With her arm around Jackies waist, Penny said, This is Jackie. Remember I told you we had a guest coming?
Jackie smiled at Gabby. Wyatt liked the way Jackies eyes softened when she looked at his daughter.
Hi, there, Jackie said. Snowflakes balanced on her blond curls glistened in the glow of the porch light. I love your freckles.
Hi. Gabby returned the smile and ducked her head into Wyatts neck. Her cold little nose pressed against his skin.
You want to see something neat? Jackie asked.
Gabby lifted her head and nodded.
Jackie hurried back to the vehicle. Carl followed. While he went to the back of the SUV, Jackie opened the passenger door. She lifted Spencer off the floor and carried him to the house.
Gabby nearly jumped out of Wyatts arms. Doggy.
He let her down so she could pet the canine.
Jackies blue eyes twinkled as she squatted with the dog in her arms. His names Spencer. Hes an English bulldog.
Gabby squealed with delight.
Carl hefted a big black duffel bag out of the back of the SUV and carried it to the smaller house across the driveway.
Youre both invited over for some meat loaf. Its Jackies favorite, Penny said.
Come on, sweetie. Lets go wash up. Wyatt took Gabby by the hand and watched Penny lead her niece to the small house across the drive from the main house. Spencer trotted along behind them, leaving paw prints in the powdered snow.
As Wyatt led Gabby inside, she said, I want a Spencer.