Briar Rose met her on the doorstep with wide eyes. Wrapped in a blanket, hair unbound and no shoes, she’d obviously been sleeping. “What’s wrong?” She darted a look over Castaña’s shoulder. “Is it Martin? Did you find him?”
“No.” Castaña stepped up on the porch. “Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you all about it.”
They moved into the kitchen and Briar Rose turned on the teapot. Mama’s old hen shaped clock over the door showed it was later than Castaña thought, almost 2
A.M.
Now that she was home, Castaña realized how tired she was. And soaked. She reached for her cell phone. “I need to call the sheriff. I couldn’t get service out in the woods.”
Briar Rose stood within earshot while Castaña dialed the number Deputy Perez had given her earlier. He answered with a gruff, sleepy, “Perez here.”
“Deputy, this is Castaña Castillo. I need you to come to the ranch right away. Bring a saddle horse and some way to pack an injured man out of the forest. He’s hurt badly and in the bottom of Dead Horse Canyon.” She hung up before he could ask any more questions, preferring to answer them on the move. Jake might be in danger out there alone.
Castaña slipped into a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt before rejoining the other woman in the kitchen. Briar Rose had placed two cups of tea on the table. Castaña added a generous amount of sugar and milk to hers. “Thanks.”
“Martin’s hurt?” Briar Rose’s sounded as scared as Castaña felt.
“As far as I know, no. The injured man isn’t him. There’re lots of places he could be.” Who was she trying to convince, herself or the other girl? “But we found a guy who was run over by a herd of mustangs. We thought he was Martin, but he’s a stranger.”
“He wasn’t … shot?”
“I don’t think so, but I couldn’t say for sure. The damage was pretty bad.” Castaña closed her eyes and tried to will away the image of the broken, bloody man. “Why do you ask?”
“It’s what happened to those other two men, isn’t it? The idea of someone running around shooting people makes me nervous as a cat.”
“Me, too.”
Exhaustion overwhelmed her and Castaña sank into her chair, worry heavy on her mind.
• • •
Castaña had been gone about an hour when the injured man stopped breathing. Jake attempted CPR, but the man had been hurt too badly and there was no bringing him back. With a sigh, Jake walked back to the cabin, found a tarp and took it back to the body and covered it. Anchoring the canvas with rocks, he headed back to the cabin. There wasn’t anything to do now but wait for the EMTs.
Too restless to sleep, he drank a cup of too strong coffee and washed the dinner dishes. He wasn’t an expert on horses, but he thought he’d give catching the runaways a shot. Digging around, he found a bag of carrots in the supplies. Taking two lead ropes, he headed back down the canyon, skirting the body. Taking his time, careful not to stumble over a rock or log, he made slow progress. His blistered feet ached. This idea was probably futile anyway. Spotting a boulder, he leaned against it and dragged in a few deep breaths. How far had the horses run?
His thoughts turned to the dead man. Certain he’d found Martin Castillo, he hadn’t even considered the possibility of the man being someone else. But who? And why had he tried to turn the horses? Nothing made sense. No clues added up to a possible theory.
Pushing himself up, Jake marched on.
Just when he thought he couldn’t take another step, he caught sight of horses in a meadow. Moving slowly, as not to spook them, he inched up closer. Thankfully, the rain had ceased and the moon lit the area with its soft light. Closing in, he recognized Rojo. He dug a carrot out of his pocket and held it out. “Come here, boy. Look, it’s a treat.”
Feeling ridiculous, he didn’t notice for a second that the horse didn’t move, only stared at him with pricked ears. Feeling confident that the animal wasn’t going to bolt, Jake walked toward him. When he grew close, he realized the lead had not just become tangled in the branches, but that the sorrel was tethered to a small tree. Someone had taken time to tie him with a slipknot. What the hell? He shot a glance around.
Had Castaña found Rojo and left him here? No, she rode off in the other direction. And if she had found her gelding, wouldn’t she have brought him back to Jake? Puzzled more than he wanted to admit, he untied the horse. As he turned to head back toward the cabin, he spotted something hanging from another branch. He examined the red and black nylon halter. Without being told, Jake knew the piece of tack was the same one that had been on Cloud less than two hours ago. The halter hadn’t been caught on the tree limb and torn loose from the horse’s head, but had been buckled around a prominent limb, easy to spot.
Jake took a slow turn, but all he saw was an empty meadow ringed by cottonwoods.
There were no other horses in sight.
And there were no people — alive or otherwise.
Someone had caught Rojo, tied him to a tree and taken off Cloud’s halter and left it in an obvious place. If Castaña hadn’t, who had? And why hadn’t they stuck around to see if someone came to collect the horse? A shiver ran down his back. Somebody was out here with him.
It had been years since Jake had ridden bareback, but if Castaña could do it at a dead run, he figured he could manage a walk. Slinging the extra halter over his shoulder, he fashioned a bridle of sorts, then swung up on the sorrel’s wet back. For a minute, Jake grinned. If Kelso could see him now, he’d die laughing. Jake nudged the gelding with his heels and turned him toward the cabin.
As he rode away, the sensation of someone watching his back washed over him.
Chapter Six
Halfway back to the cabin, Rojo lifted his head and snorted.
Already edgy, Jake halted the gelding and attempted to follow the horse’s fixation.
The ghost story atmosphere made his skin crawl. Give him a dark city street — even an alley — over this any time. Jake peered through the fog, but nothing seemed to move.
Sure he was beginning to lose it, he nudged the gelding with his heels. But Rojo didn’t budge and continued to stare at the woods. A little aggravated, Jake increased pressure on the horse’s sides. As if he’d been geared into third, Rojo suddenly jumped forward, nearly unseating Jake.
Something crashed through the downed timber.
Only something big would make that much noise.
A very large bear? A mountain lion? The mustangs had run the opposite direction, but maybe a foal had been left behind. Rojo obviously wanted to go that direction, tugging on the reins and dancing a few steps. What the hell? It wouldn’t hurt to look. Jake loosened his hold on the makeshift reins, and the red horse pranced toward the mysterious animal in the forest with his ears pricked, blowing soft little snorts.
As they approached the thick timber, Jake spotted something among the trunks. As he edged closer, the moonlight lit up something. Jake recognized Cloud’s color. He’d found Rojo tied to a tree, could he get that lucky twice? Maybe someone had caught the appaloosa, too.
A shadow fell across the moon.
When it passed, the horse was gone.
Damn.
Rojo continued to act anxious about something. The other horse? Jake decided to trust the animal’s instincts again. Almost at a jog, the horse wound his way into the dark copse of cottonwoods. When Jake strained his ears, he could hear faint hoofbeats leading away. Jake felt confident he could catch up to Cloud.
After an hour, he wasn’t as certain.
The horse stayed just far enough ahead that Jake couldn’t get a clear look at him, but not so far he would completely disappear. Every so often, Jake would catch a glimpse of a light colored coat glowing through the trees. Every time he sped up, so did the other horse. When he slowed, it slowed. If he weren’t sure the horse was loose, Jake would think he was being guided. He wanted to yell at Cloud, but he guessed it’d only scare him and possibly make him break into a gallop.
He didn’t know what to do. Trailing along wasn’t doing him any good, but if he quit now, who knew when he’d ever find the gelding again. Trying to circle around front wasn’t an option because it’d be his suicide if he tried to gallop.
The moon began to fall.
How long had he been following this meandering horse?
His knees ached. His thighs hurt. And his ass was numb. He’d left his broken watch back with his camp supplies, but he estimated the time to be around three in the morning. He hoped a wild animal hadn’t disturbed the stranger’s body. He should turn back. They’d find Cloud when Castaña returned.
He reined in, and was about to turn around when a loud noise sort of like a cross between a snort and a neigh carried on the night air. It sounded nearby. Jake’s skin crawled. He’d been close all night, but not close enough. Maybe Cloud had decided to stop. Hell, he’d come this far and giving up went against his grain. He nudged Rojo with his heels and once more traveled in the direction the appaloosa had taken.
As if he, too, had tired of the game, Cloud stopped and stood outlined along the top of a ridge.
He had a rider.
Sure he was seeing things, Jake rubbed his eyes. When he opened them again, the image vanished into the night. If it weren’t for the whinnies echoing around him, Jake would’ve gone back to the cabin. But he’d seen a horseman, and that person had been leading him on a merry chase for more hours than he cared to think about. Fury replaced his exhaustion. What kind of head games was this guy playing? Who was it? Martin? If he’d worried his sister sick for no reason, Jake would kick his ass.
Rojo lunged ahead with little prompting. He seemed to be as determined as Jake to catch the other horse.
At the top, Jake surveyed the surrounding area. Nothing but trees. Before he’d managed to keep Cloud in sight, but he was nowhere to be found now.
Not a trace.
Not a hair, not a hide.
“Where the hell did they get to?”
He slid off Rojo’s warm back, wincing when his cold, blistered feet hit the ground. Carefully watching the gelding, Jake waited for a clue which direction the other horse had gone, but Rojo only flicked his ears back and forth. Earlier, he had kept his ears pointed like beacons of light in the direction Cloud moved, but now he seemed completely uninterested.
The way Jake saw it he had two choices — keep following the mystery rider, which was getting him nowhere, or go back to the cabin while he still had an idea where he was. Neither option appealed to him.
As he stood debating, something moved in his peripheral vision.
Before he could react, he felt a blow square in the middle of the back that sent him sprawling face first into the dirt. Rojo reared up and spun away, tearing the reins through Jake’s hands. Lifting his head, Jake spotted the horse galloping through the trees. Double damn. How had he been so careless? Now not only did he not have a horse or a suspect, he was stranded God only knew how many miles from the cabin. He wasn’t even positive he could find his way back. He spat out a mouthful of dirt. “Hell.”
He groaned as he stood. Might as well get started. He had a long walk ahead of him.
• • •
“He was right here.” Castaña pointed to the last place she’d seen the injured man. Not only was there no sign of him, Jake and her horse was also gone. She tamped down her fear and met the skeptical look of Agent Staton.
“Are you certain you didn’t lead us out here on a wild goose chase, Miss Castillo?”
She was getting a little tired of the agent’s attitude. “Why would I want to do that?”
He lifted his bent shoulders. “You tell me.”
“What I’m telling you is there was a man who was hurt very badly lying right here when I left last night.” She studied the ground, but it was difficult to tell anything in the mud. Jake’s tracks came and went, but it was impossible to tell where they led. “Let’s check the cabin.”
She mounted Gato and waited for Staton and Perez to get on their own horses. Three other men and a woman from the Search and Rescue Unit also accompanied them, but they stayed horseback while Castaña and the FBI men dismounted. Castaña led the group toward the cabin. The sun had just begun to rise over the canyon walls, promising a glorious day ahead. Much easier to search for Martin than in a storm.
Only Castaña, Staton and Perez entered the structure. Everything looked exactly the way it had the night before. Except Jake was gone. “I don’t understand this,” Castaña admitted. “Where did they go?”
“Could the man maybe come to and not been hurt as badly as you thought? Maybe they decided to walk out,” Perez suggested.
“Maybe.” Castaña didn’t think either one of them could walk a mile, much less several. “But it seems unlikely with the cabin right here.”
“Well, these fellows aren’t here,” Staton said. “So why don’t we have a cup of coffee and think over our options?” Without waiting for an okay, he reached for the coffee pot and grounds. “Do you have water?”
Castaña pointed to a jug in the corner. “Help yourself.” While the agent poured water in the coffee pot, she built a fire outside in a ring of rocks put there for that purpose. The Search and Rescue team had dismounted and tied their horses to the fence. She hoped a herd of mustangs didn’t come along and spook them. Last night had been crazy. Something out of a bad dream.
The group settled around the fire, warming their hands. Although it would be a sunny day, the sun’s rays hadn’t reached the canyon floor yet and a chill still hung in the air. They’d left the Castillo ranch at 5
A.M.
, as soon as everyone could assemble. The team leader was a slim, quiet cowboy named Ron Sparks. He wore a tall Stetson and had a handlebar mustache reminiscent of another time.
The woman, a petite strawberry blonde, had introduced herself earlier as Patty McRae. She had a wide, friendly smile and sparkling blue eyes. Castaña liked her immediately. She couldn’t say the same about the other two on the team. One, tall and skinny, and his companion short and stocky, joked and talked in loud voices most of the way. The taller one made Castaña’s skin crawl the way he looked her over like a filly in a sale ring. She hadn’t been introduced to them, and didn’t wish to be.