Cowboy Famous: Book 4 (Cowboy Justice Association) (29 page)

“I don’t know but my gut is telling me that we should follow him. He might know the area a little bit having scouted here nine months ago, but we know it like the back of our hands. If he’s moving west there are only so many routes he can take. He might even be headed to the Rinehart place.”

Seth, Tanner, and Logan joined them, their expressions grim. Jared leaned against the brick facade of the hotel, stroking his chin.

“The Rinehart ranch? That’s the abandoned ranch west of here isn’t it? What’s his connection to that place?”

“I think it might be where he killed Casey and Sandy. He needed somewhere private to do the deed and I’ve looked everywhere closer to the dump sites. He might be re-visiting the scene, you know, getting his kicks from it. I’m trying to get a warrant to search the place.”

Tanner gave Griffin a twisted smile. “If we see his car there, I think you’ve got probable cause, buddy. What’s the plan?”

“After we search his hotel room for any clues, we all head out in three groups of two. That way each group can investigate one of the possible routes he might have taken. I’ll take the one to the Rinehart place.”

Griffin was already thinking of every possible scenario as to how this might play out. The more he thought about it, the more he was glad these five men were here. His deputies were good but this was a completely different league.

Griffin’s phone buzzed and he dropped a few swear words as he dug into his pocket. It was Adam. Again. Griffin really needed to have a talk with him.

“Sawyer.”

“Boss, it’s Adam. I think you may want to head out here. Levi and I are west of town and we found your truck on the side of the road.”

That wasn’t possible. Jazz had taken his truck to Springwood.

“It’s probably not my truck. Jazz borrowed it to talk to a friend of Casey Charlock’s. Run the plate and find out whose it is.”

There was a pause and for a moment Griffin thought the call had dropped.

“That’s just it, boss. It’s definitely your truck. Keys are in the ignition still and Jazz’s purse is sitting on the passenger seat. Maybe the truck broke down and she started walking.”

Griffin’s truck was always in the shop these days but if Jazz had abandoned the vehicle and started hoofing it, why on earth would she leave the keys and her purse?

It didn’t make any sense and Griffin didn’t like it at all. Something wasn’t right. A deep sense of foreboding was building inside of him, his gut screaming that Jazz was in trouble. She wouldn’t have walked away like that.

“Have Levi stay with the truck and you go farther down the road and see if you can find her. We’re on our way in the meantime.”

Griffin hung up and stared at his phone cursing that he hadn’t replaced Jazz’s cell with something, even a cheap throwaway. It had been foolhardy to send her on a road trip without one and that was his fault. He fucking knew better.

He shoved his cell back in his pocket and scraped his hand down his face. If anything happened to Jazz he didn’t know what he’d do.

“My truck is abandoned on the side of the road and Jazz is gone. Keys still in the ignition and her purse on the seat. Pair that with the fact that Gordon was headed in the same direction and you’ve got a situation I don’t like in the least. Instead of splitting up, we need to head there and see what we can find. Let’s go.”

The six of them made for their vehicles as fear began to take root in Griffin’s gut. What if Gordon had Jazz?

“Relax, man, we’ll get this guy.” Logan headed for his truck with Jared right behind him.

“Relax,” Griffin muttered. “He’s always fucking relaxed.”

Reed slapped Griffin on the back as they all headed out to the vehicles. “Logan has a point. Tension is not going to help you at this juncture. You, me, him—we all know what we have to do. Let’s just go do it and get it done.”

Griffin couldn’t agree more.

*   *   *   *

Jazz’s head, face, and body ached as her eyelids slowly lifted. A shaft of light hit her pupils and she groaned at the pain that pierced her skull. Shutting her eyes against the harsh sun shining through the wooden slats of the roof above, she waited for a wave of nausea to pass before opening her eyes again, her brain sluggish as she took in her predicament.

She was lying on a hard floor, bruised and battered from Gordon’s rough handling. It was hot and still, the aroma of dirt, sweat, and gasoline heavy in the air. Experimentally moving her arms and legs, she found her wrists were bound together behind her but her legs were free.

A tidal wave of images flooded her as she remembered how she’d gotten here. Running out of gas. Gordon hitting her with a metal can. Throwing her in the trunk. At some point she’d lost consciousness and now she was a captive inside…a barn or stable? The floor was dirt and concrete with a large stack of hay bales but there didn’t appear to be any animals or people.

Her heart accelerating, her gaze darted around the large open room looking for an escape route. The door was in front of her, wide open but was Gordon waiting on the other side? She couldn’t stay here and wait for him to kill her, she had to take action. She needed to find a way to escape and the first thing was getting herself untied.

There was no doubt in her mind that Gordon intended to kill her, whether it be now or later. When she’d last seen his face right before she’d passed out, his eyes had an empty, glassy look in them. It was as if nothing human resided there and it had given her chills. If she didn’t do something fast she was going to be dead.

He was trying to keep her from talking to Tonya which could only lead Jazz to believe he had something to do with the Casey’s murder. Was he the talent scout that was going to make Casey a star that Buddy had spoken of? Perhaps Casey had been telling the truth about that. Jazz knew that Tony traveled to locations so it wasn’t much of a stretch to think that Gordon did also. He could have met Casey and promised to put her in the movies or make her a supermodel.

Carefully and quietly, she levered to a sitting position, wincing as her head pounded and her stiff muscles and spine protested. Pulling at the rope wrapped around her wrists appeared to be futile. It moved loosely on her sweat-slicked skin but she couldn’t see what she was doing to untie the knot. Heart pounding and stomach twisting with desperation, she slid her hands under her butt and then down her legs, leaning forward so her body was essentially folded in half. Bending her legs slightly, she was able to push her bound wrists from the back of her body to the front.

All those years of yoga and Pilates had finally paid off. She’d have to give her instructor a big kiss when she got out of here.

If she got out of here. Alive, that is.

Taking a few deep breaths she lifted her arms, the rope wrapped around her wrists, and began to tug at the knot with her teeth, heart beating so loudly she thought he might hear. If Gordon found her trying to escape it would not be good.

Able to find some purchase at last, Jazz gritted her teeth together hard on the rope and gave it one mighty tug. The knot finally loosened and she was able to wriggle her hands free. Her relief was short-lived however. She needed a weapon in case Gordon was outside this building. A few heavy rakes and shovels were hung on the wall right behind her and she started to rise and grab one when she heard footsteps.

Falling back down on her already sore ass, she balled up the rope in her fist and placed her hands behind her back. If this was Gordon coming, he didn’t need to know she’d managed to get loose.

He walked in carrying two large metal gas cans but stopped when he saw she was sitting up. Scowling, he set them down and walked a few steps toward her.

“You’re awake,” he said unnecessarily, his tone conversational. “I was hoping you’d stay unconscious. Fire is a terrible way to go I would imagine.”

He said it as if they were discussing the weather or maybe how the Yankees were going to do this year. He didn’t really look or sound any different. Completely non-threatening in appearance at the moment, this man was planning to murder her in cold blood. She took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves and steady her voice. She’d heard stories of people who had talked their way out of situations like this although she couldn’t recall any specific examples. It was something about making them see you as a person with feelings and dreams. She had plenty of those.

“Why are you doing this? I thought we were friends.”

The words came out choked but at least she’d managed to speak. Fear had taken up residence in her abdomen and she had to swallow hard to keep her stomach contents down.

“Women have never been my friends. You act like you are and then you laugh at me.” Gordon’s expression had gone blank, his eyes going to that cold dark place she’d seen earlier. Twisting the top off one of the gas cans, he poured the contents all over the bales and the wood structure. He tossed the empty away and reached for the second one.

“I’ve never laughed at you, Gordon. I wouldn’t do that. Ever. I don’t understand why you’re doing this. Don’t do this.”

Her voice had gone up and sounded shrill to her own ears. She shuddered as he stopped to gaze down at her as if she were a bug to be studied and then stomped on.

“I can’t let you talk to Tonya,” he said flatly.

“You know Tonya? What will she tell me, Gordon? Did you hurt Casey?”

Jazz had to concentrate on her breathing so she wouldn’t hyperventilate. In and out. In and out. Slowly, trying to control her racing heart.

“I would have made her a star but she laughed at me.”

“I’m sure you didn’t mean to hurt her.”

Her fingers curled tightly around the rough rope as she tried to control her impulse to get up and just run. He’d catch her in seconds, overpowering her. Stay calm. Think.

“I didn’t want to hurt her.” He twisted the cap off the second can, the acrid smell of gasoline already assailing her nostrils. “I didn’t want to hurt any of them but they shouldn’t have laughed. Sandy laughed and pointed at me. She said she was going to tell Tony and the whole crew. I couldn’t let her do that.”

God, he killed Sandy too. And what was he saying about
any
of them? How many were there?

“I would never laugh at you. I’m your friend. You were sweet to me when I told you I wanted to be a star.”

“You’ll tell your sheriff boyfriend about me and I can’t let that happen. I’m sorry, Jazz. I wish things could be different. You’re just like all the young girls I’ve talked to over the years. Big dreams, a pretty face, but little talent. You never would have survived in Hollywood. I’m saving you years of heartache.”

By murdering me? Fuck you.

Focus. She took another steadying breath and tried to make herself sound friendly but cowed. Let him think he was powerful.

“I won’t tell Griffin. I won’t tell anyone.”

She might as well have said it to the door or the saddle propped against an old table. Gordon had tuned her out, splashing the gasoline all over the walls. He threw the second can on the stack of hay bales and pulled a box of matches from his pocket.

One and this place would surely go up like a tinder box, the hay and old, dry wood combining with the accelerant to create an inferno.

With her inside.

“Don’t do this.” Her hands twisted on the ropes and she pictured the shovel hanging on the wall behind her. Her back and arms were slicked with sweat and her ribs hurt where her heart pounded in her chest. She was running out of time.

Gordon didn’t answer, instead pulling a match from the book and striking it along the side before tossing it into the stack of hay. Instantly the tower of bales went up, the orange and yellow flames licking as high as the roof. Turning his back to her, he walked toward the far end of the barn where he’d soaked a stack of wood with gasoline.

This was her only chance.

Pushing to her feet as quickly as she could, she grabbed the shovel from the wall even as sparks from the rapidly growing fire shot around her like fireworks. Running up behind him, she wound up and swung the heavy implement as hard as she could at the back of his head. He seemed to freeze for a moment, and the lit match dropped from his still fingers.

At first she thought she hadn’t hit him hard enough but then his legs seemed to crumple under him and he went down to the floor. The heat from the flames seemed to sear her skin and she had to bat at her hair as white-hot sparks fell on her head. The smell of burnt hair and smoke made her cough and retch and she stumbled out of the barn.

Scrambling on shaky legs to get away from the fiery structure, she slammed to her knees into the dirt still trembling with half fear and half relief. A part of her hated leaving Gordon to perish in that fire, but he’d left her few options.

It was either him or me.

Levering to her feet, she had to grab onto a tree for support as she sucked in the clean, fresh air. She looked all around her and almost fainted with gratitude when she saw a house at the top of the hill. She could call Griffin from there. He wouldn’t have any idea that she was in trouble or that Gordon was the killer.

Using her shirt to wipe the sweat from her face, she watched in horror as Gordon stumbled from the blaze, staggering but clearly still alive. Soot and blood stained his clothes and he was unsteady on his feet. He wasn’t giving up and neither could she.

Turning towards the house, she sprinted as fast as she could up the hill hoping against hope he hadn’t seen her. Her breath laboring and her heart racing faster than her feet, she pressed a hand to her rib where a stitch was slowing her down. She slipped on the loose gravel but managed to find her footing again, using her fingers to dig at the ground. One look over her shoulder told her Gordon wasn’t giving up. Slowed down but determined, he was making his way up the hill, never taking his eyes from her.

He was coming.

Chapter Twenty-Three