Sweet Talking Lawman (19 page)

Fisher had been sitting
silently in the darkness for a long time now.  The darkness wrapped around
him and made him feel safe and confident.  He could see what happened around
the lights on the highway, but couldn’t be seen by the people there.  He
resisted the urge to laugh because he didn’t want the dog to hear him, so he
continued to sit silently.

If that damned Indian couple
hadn’t hit the kid’s motorcycle parked beside the road all this would be over
with and he’d be sitting in the bar on the other side of the rez, celebrating
another job, well done.  The boss wouldn’t like this but there wasn’t a
hell of a lot either one of them could do about it.  The kid had wanted
out.  Well, now he was out.  Permanently.  Problem solved. 
Except for the Indian couple.  He knew they hadn’t seen him, but the man
had found Cartwright’s handgun and started shooting at the cop when he showed
up.

He watched the CSI team load
their gear and drive away and gave a sigh of relief.  Nothing and no one
left in the area but him.  He slowly unfolded his legs and stood up making
sure his circulation was restored before he turned and walked away from the
scene, his rifle hanging from his shoulder, moving through the field where he’d
been hiding, away from the highway.  In the trees a half mile away, his
dirt bike was waiting to take him to his truck.  He’d left nothing at the
crime scene because he’d never gotten any closer than a hundred and fifty
yards.  There wasn’t much chance of anyone finding the bullet that took
down Cartwright, because as flat as this area was, the bullet had gone through
his head and kept going.  God only knew where it was now.  He
chuckled softly.  The Indian probably thought he’d killed the cop he shot
and would be in another state by daylight.  All in all, it wasn’t too much
of a disaster.  Nothing to tie the shooting to him or the boss, just the
Indian.

He might still have to take
care of the older Howell woman.  He didn’t understand what had kept her
from being killed when her car hit that tree.  Hell, it should have caught
fire and burned.  He should have thrown a lit match in it when he emptied
that can of beer all around her.  He shrugged, pushing the shoulder strap
holding the 308 against his back into a more comfortable position.  He’d
wanted to use the gun then, but the boss wanted it to look like an accident
from driving drunk.  Like the accident that put the old cowboy out of
commission.  A good clean accident aroused no more notice than the sad
shaking of a head.  By all rights, the old man should have died, as well,
but for now, he wasn’t a problem.  He was just an old man in a wheel chair
and would never be able to run the ranch again.  According to Cartwright, Rance
Howell didn’t even remember his accident.  Didn’t remember why he was
riding along that part of the ranch or anything else for days before the
accident
.

Cartwright could have been a
good clean accident, too.  Fisher had wanted to take a couple of shots at
Cartwright to make him pick up speed, then shoot out a tire, but the boss
wanted his death to send a message to anyone else who might be thinking about
wanting out.  Well, it was going to do that.  One clean shot between
the eyes made quite a statement.

Now, there was that pretty
young Howell woman to think about.  The boss hadn’t thought she’d ever be
a problem.  She’d been gone for years, but now she was back.  Fisher
grinned.  She was a looker.  He hoped the boss wasn’t going to be
picky about her.  If it came down to killing her, he never minded doing
his job, but that would be a job he’d want to decide how to do.  She could
be enjoyed for a while before she had to die.

Mesa drove home and slipped
into bed.  She must have been out of her mind to go to Rafe’s house, but
she couldn’t make herself feel any regret.  Not yet.  That might come
later, but for now, she just wanted to remember the warm intimacy they had
shared.  How would she feel tomorrow walking into The Tepee to meet him in
public?  How would Raale react to this new relationship between her
parents?  Lord, she thought silently, I hope this doesn’t hurt my little
girl.

She and Rafe hadn’t reached
any great solution to their situation, and even the sexual tension between them
had been only temporarily sated.  She knew that by tomorrow, she would be
as drawn to him as she had been her entire life.  She smiled into the
darkness.  It had been so good, being in his arms again.

She didn’t realize she’d even
closed her eyes, but Jory called her name as he knocked on her bedroom
door.  “Mesa, get up.  The sheriff is here to see you,” he paused but
only for a second, “officially.  It’s important.”

She threw back the sheet,
snatched on her robe and almost ran to the door.  Jerking it open, she
looked at Jory.  “Is my mom alright?”

“Yeah.  It’s one of the
newer hands.  Just come on down.  I’m fixing coffee and Rafe is
waiting.”  He winked at her.  “By the way, he looks like hell.”

Mesa frowned imagining she
looked just as bad.  She nodded.  “Just give me a couple of minutes.”

Closing the door, she quickly
pulled on her clothes and ran a brush through her hair.  Looking in the
mirror, she was surprised that she didn’t even look tired.  In fact, she
looked as well rested as she felt, and without the benefit of even the little
makeup she wore, she didn’t look bad.  A smile melted across her
face.  Her time with Rafe had done that.

When she walked into the
kitchen a few minutes later, her eyes automatically sought him first.  He
smiled, in spite of the seriousness of the situation, and stood up as she
approached the table.  He pulled out the chair next to him and Jory sat a
cup of coffee on the table for her.

She saw her mother and Uncle
Rance already at the table and returned her speculating look to Rafe’s
face.  “This is serious?”

He nodded and sat back down
in his seat.  “Yeah, it is.  What can you tell me about Hal
Cartwright?”

Mesa shrugged.  “Not a
lot.”  She looked at Uncle Rance and then at her mother.  “He was
already here when I came home.  I don’t know anything that everyone else
doesn’t know.”

“You were dancing with him
last night.  What did the two of you talk about?”

She frowned.  “I don’t
really remember.  I think he told me he had a couple of my CDs and that he
liked working here.  Why are you asking about him, Rafe?”

He could feel her anger
rising and it was easy to see the tension slipping into her body.  Without
any forethought Rafe covered one of her hands with his.  “Sugar, last
night, Hal was murdered.  John Montgomery responded to a traffic accident
that turned into a shootout and when I got there, I found Cartwright’s
body.  He’d been shot between the eyes.”

Mesa’s face blanched of all
color.  “Oh my Lord!   He was dead?”

Rafe nodded, his thumb
absently stroking circles on the back of her hand.  “He was already dead
when John arrived on the scene.  John didn’t see anyone when he got there
except….the guy who started shooting at him.”

“Is he going to be
alright?”  Rance asked.

“Yes.”  Rafe
answered.  “He took a bullet in his leg, but he’s goin’ to be fine.” 
Rafe cast his eyes around the room and then looked at Jory.  “Where’s
Raale?”

Jory grinned.  “Your
grandmother and Mrs. Barnett stopped by and took her to church with them this
morning.  They wanted to take her to the Senior’s Breakfast.  Your
grandmother said that bunch of old people needed Raale to keep them from boring
themselves to sleep, and I knew Mesa would be sleeping in late.”

“I just didn’t want her to
walk in on this conversation we’re havin’.”  Rafe explained, noting that
Jory knew why Mesa would be sleeping late.  It rankled him that the man
probably knew when she left and when she returned.

“Who hired Cartwright?” 
He asked the group.

“I did,” Rance
answered.  “Bob was getting too damned old to put in a full day in the hay
field and when I tacked up a notice at the feed store that I needed a hand, Hal
called me.  He’s been a good worker.”

“Who’s his next of kin?”

Rance scratched his chin,
rolling the question around in his mind.  “I think he had a brother over
in Liberty.  He filled out some paperwork that’s filed in the office.”

Mesa stood up and the action
pulled her hand from Rafe’s.  “I’ll look.”

Rafe pushed away from the
table and followed her.  “I’ll need to get a copy of that paper.”

She nodded.  “I’ll make
you one.”

He enjoyed following her down
the hall into Rance’s small office and once they stepped inside, he quietly
closed the door behind them and stopped, his eyes following her movements as
she thumbed through the files and pulled out the needed file.

She turned and looked at
him.  “Do you want copies of the whole thing?”

He nodded and walked across
the room to stop in front of her.  “I’m sorry about all this, Mesa.”

She shrugged.  “You have
to do your job.  I know it’s not easy.”  She turned to the printer
and began copying the papers for him.

“I waited as long as I
could.  I know you didn’t get much sleep last night.”  His voice
dropped a couple of octaves as he remembered why.

“You didn’t get any at all,
did you?”  She asked turning again so she was looking up at him.

“Sugar,” his voice had become
a whisper.  “What I got last night was
so
much better than
sleep.”  He crooked one finger beneath her chin and held her head steady
when he dropped his lips to cover hers.

The kiss started out light
and gentle, but quickly grew in intensity.  Rafe pulled her into his arms
and was gratified to feel her lean easily against him.  His hands wandered
over her back and shoulders and as always, down across her buttocks, drawing
her closer against his rising need.

His lips thinned into a smile
against hers.

He lifted his head and
grinned down at her.  “You wouldn’t believe how much I want you
again.  Right now.”

“Yeah…um, I can feel.” 
She pressed her hips gently against his.

Reluctantly, Rafe released
her and stepped back.  “Unfortunately, this is neither the time nor the
place.”

She nodded in assent. 
“Our timing seems to be off most of the time.”  She turned and began
shuffling the papers coming out of the printer.

“I think our timin’ last
night was damned near perfect.”  He corrected her as he struggled with his
determination to keep from pulling her back into his arms.  “And I know I
have a job to do, but right now, all I can think about is when we can get
together again.”

When Mesa turned to hand him
the papers, her face was pink.

He took the papers but his
eyes didn’t leave her face.  “About lunch at The Tepee, I don’t want you
to come alone.”

“I’ll be fine, but you don’t
have to take time out of your schedule for me today.  I know you’re going
to be very busy.”  She said.

He grinned.  “A man’s
gotta eat.”

“I’ll pick Raale up from Uci
after church and meet you there.”  She couldn’t resist lifting one hand to
drag her fingers across the dark stubble that was beginning to show on his
bronze cheek.

He caught her hand and kissed
her fingers.  “I probably gave you whisker burn when I kissed you. 
Sorry.”

She shrugged, watching his
lips form the words.  She didn’t know what it was about this man that drew
her like a magnet, but she wouldn’t deny the pull she experienced anytime he
was close.  Close was never enough.  She smiled up at him.  “Do
you think they’ll come looking for us?”

As if in answer to her
question, a light tap sounded on the door, bringing a smile to Rafe’s
lips.  He nodded, thankful that the holster of the gun he wore could be
shifted easily to help conceal what remained of his earlier arousal.  “I
guess that’s a yes.”  Looking at the door, he spoke slightly louder. 
“Come on in.”

The door opened and Rance
wheeled his chair into the room.  “Did you find the file?”

Rafe held the copies that
Mesa had made up.  “Yeah.  Not a problem.  I’ve got what I
need.”  He turned and winked at the woman standing in front of him. 
“See you later?”

She nodded.

“Can you keep us informed on
what you find out about Hal’s death?” Rance asked.  “He was a good hand.”

Rafe shrugged.  “Maybe
up to a point, but I can’t make any promises.  I just don’t know what all
is involved in this, Rance.”  He looked at the older man and shook his
head.  “I don’t like what I feel about any of it.”

Pushing the wheelchair closer
to the lawman, Rance frowned.  “What the hell does that mean, any of it?”

“Are you sure you can’t
remember anything about your accident?” Rafe probed.

The older man’s frown
deepened.  “I’ve tried.  What has that got to do with Hal?”

Again Rafe shrugged.  “I
don’t know that it has, but, between the three of us,” he looked from Rance to
Mesa and back again.  “Your accident was no accident.  I dug a 308
slug outta your colt’s rear femur.  That’s what caused the horse to go
ballistic on you.  The femur was totally shattered.”

Rance’s aged grey eyes
searched Rafe’s face.  “Somebody shot my colt?”

Rafe nodded.  “It just
didn’t feel right for it to be an accident.  You’re a better horseman than
that, Rance.  I got Bob to show me where it happened before the Jackpot
and used a metal detector to find the slug.”

Rance swore angrily.

“It’s just too much
coincidence when it’s added to somebody running Shirley off the road, and now
this boy’s death.”  Rafe’s facial expression matched the older
man’s.  “I don’t know what’s going on yet, but I don’t like where it looks
like it’s headed.”

Rance’s eyes shifted to Mesa
and back again to the sheriff.  “What about Mesa and Raale and the rest of
the hands?  Are they in danger?”

“I wish I could say no, but I
can’t.  I just don’t know.  Keep everybody as close to the house as
you can and when you can’t, make sure there are several people together. 
Do you have any idea why anyone would want to hurt the Rockin’ H?”

Rance shook his head
negatively.  “Maybe somebody has a grudge against me.”

“And Shirley?  And
Cartwright?  Doesn’t make any sense to me.”  Shaking his head
negatively, Rafe turned and looked at Mesa.  “Y’all need to make sure you
aren’t here alone and don’t leave this place alone either.”

“What about lunch?” she asked
quizzically.

Rafe frowned.  “Don’t
come alone.  Bring Rance, Jory and Shirley.  I don’t want any of you
on the road alone.”

She smiled.  “That’ll be
cozy.”

He shrugged.  “Better to
be safe than sorry.”  He lifted one hand and stroked her cheek gently
before he turned and looked at Rance.  “I’m headed back to the station to
question a man that was out there where Cartwright was killed.  I’ll see
y’all at The Tepee around noonish?”

Rance nodded.  “We’ll be
there.  I’ll call Hal’s brother later today, but I want to give you a
chance to talk to him first.  We carry a small life insurance policy on
all our boys and I imagine that’ll come in handy for his family.”

^^^

Back at the station, Rafe had
Daryl Tall Tree in one interview room and his wife Willow in another.  He
and Levi had made sure the two hadn’t exchanged a word since they’d been
located sleeping in a shed out behind Daryl’s grandfather’s house in the early
morning hours.

Rafe opened the door to the
interview room.  “Daryl, how do you take your coffee?”

The older man looked at him,
his dark eyes bloodshot and swollen.  “Black and sweet.”

When Rafe returned a few
minutes later, followed by his faithful dog, he placed a cup of the steaming
brew on the table in front of the man.  “It’s from the coffee maker in my
office.  The coffee in the break room tastes like crap.”

Daryl nodded.  “Thanks,
Rafe.”

The big lawman watched his
suspect blow on the steaming liquid only once before taking a cautious sip.

Daryl nodded.  “Good
coffee.”

Rafe pulled out a chair and
sat down across the table from the older man.  Spur sat quietly beside
Rafe’s chair, his liquid brown eyes focused on the man across the table. 
“Daryl, what the hell happened last night?”  Rafe asked the first of many
questions, his voice soft and nonthreatening.

Tall Tree shrugged. 
“I’m not sure.  I was drunk.  Shouldn’t’a been driving.”

“You shot John Montgomery in
the leg.  His wife is really pissed at you right now.”  Rafe said.