Kidnapped Colt Page 6

  “You mean Ryan’s gone now?” Sam asked. “Where?”

  “You know darned well where. Shopping and whatnot with his twin and their mother, who just flew in from London.”

  Sam shook her head. This couldn’t be happening. She glanced at Jen. If she’d known…But her best friend’s hand covered her lips and her eyes were wide and blinking behind the lenses of her glasses.

  “Maybe you could just ask him—” Sam began.

  “He left an hour ago…”

  Ryan had been afraid his father would do something to Shy Boots if he wasn’t around to protect the colt, but he hadn’t said he was leaving today.

  “…mother’s private plane landed at the ranch and took them off to San Francisco. That’s how you two had it planned, right?”

  Sam knew she was gulping like a beached fish, but she couldn’t form words. Why would Ryan leave her to take the blame for stealing the horses?

  “Okay Linc, if you’re done blowin’ off steam, let’s start over.”

  Sam jumped. She’d been so focused on Linc, she’d forgotten Sheriff Ballard. He took out a small notebook and pen, in a routine manner.

  “You have two missing horses. That’s all I know for sure. Now, forget the speculation. Don’t tell me what you think happened, just list the facts, starting when you realized the horses were missing.”

  “Okay, Sheriff,” Linc said. When he squared his shoulders and tugged briskly at his shirt cuffs, Sam felt chills.

  She’d rather see Linc ranting.

  He must have realized bluster would get him nowhere with Sheriff Ballard, because Linc seemed almost businesslike.

  This was a far more threatening Linc Slocum, because the sheriff might take him seriously.

  “I realized Apache Hotspot and her foal were missing exactly”—Linc glanced at his heavy gold watch—“thirty-five minutes ago.”

  “So you called my office right away,” Sheriff Ballard said, consulting his notes. “That’s good. In cases like this, the first twenty-four hours are critical.”

  “Do you have any fences down?” Dallas asked. “Were the front gates to your place open?”

  “They didn’t wander away, if that’s what you’re thinkin’,” Linc said.

  “When did you see them last?” Sheriff Ballard continued.

  “Last night,” Linc said. “We—that’s Ryan and I—were standing in the barn discussing how he was supposed to take the mare to Sterling Stables and leave her to be bred.”

  “And now Ryan’s out of town,” the sheriff said.

  “Yes sir,” Linc answered.

  Sheriff Ballard looked up from his notes. “So, he could’ve taken the horses to Sterling Stables beforehand.”

  Linc looked uneasy. Though he wasn’t much of a father, he didn’t want any blame placed on Ryan.

  All he said was, “The mare never got there.”

  Sheriff Ballard exhaled loudly.

  “Okay, the first thing we need to do—” Sheriff Ballard began.

  “Sheriff, excuse me. This is where I need to step in.” Karl Mannix did just that, taking a stride forward.

  Sheriff Ballard nodded as if he’d been expecting this interruption.

  Karl Mannix cleared his throat, then introduced himself. While Sheriff Ballard made notes, Mannix explained he was employed by Linc Slocum, then turned to the day’s events.

  “It’s true Ryan didn’t want that mare taken from her foal,” Mannix said. He paused, blinking. His eyes looked watery behind his glasses. “But earlier today, I saw him with this young lady.”

  Mannix cleared his throat again. Was he trying to underline the significance of seeing her with Ryan?

  “You know how Samantha is,” Linc said, keeping his voice level. “She convinced him to turn the Appys loose to run with that wild bunch.”

  “No, I did not!”

  Sheriff Ballard held up his hand. “Linc, that’s the kind of speculation I want you to avoid.”

  “Of course,” Linc said. “Sorry.”

  But he looked satisfied that he’d made his point.

  “You’re sure it was Samantha you saw with Ryan?” Sheriff Ballard asked Mannix.

  “Pretty sure,” Mannix said.

  “It was me,” Sam said.

  “Well, what if she did go out for a drive with him?” Gram tsked her tongue. “I said it was fine.”

  Beside her, Dad sighed. He sounded disappointed, and that hurt.

  “It just seemed strange to me that Ryan would be way out here, when he was supposed to be dropping the mare off so far in the opposite direction,” Mannix said. “So when Mr. Slocum got home from Winnemucca, I asked him about it. We checked to see if all his stock was accounted for, and you know the rest.”

  The air might have been full of bees, for the buzzing Sam heard in her ears.

  Why hadn’t she told Ryan no? She should have stood up to him, and it was pretty ironic that she hadn’t, since she’d always thought he showed no backbone.

  “With Ryan being a newcomer, and Samantha’s reputation for loving wild horses…” Linc let his voice trail off, hoping the sheriff would reach the wrong conclusion.

  Mannix gave an indulgent smile. Sam felt everyone’s eyes on her as he added, “Well, what boy hasn’t let a pretty girl talk him into—”

  “Do I get to say anything?” Sam demanded.

  “I think you’d better,” Sheriff Ballard told her.

  “Wait just a minute,” Brynna interrupted. “Before Sam says a word, I’m going to.” Brynna gave Sheriff Ballard a stern look that said she was depending on him to see her as a fellow professional. He gave a slight nod. “Sam knows what can happen when a wild stallion takes on a mare with a foal that isn’t his. She wouldn’t turn Hotspot and her foal loose on the range.”

  Sam swallowed hard. If they couldn’t believe in her honesty, they’d still believe in her soft heart for horses.

  If there hadn’t been so many people standing around, she would have given Brynna a hug.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Sam agreed. “Honest.”

  Sheriff Ballard met her eyes. “Tell me what did happen.”

  “The horses weren’t stolen,” Sam insisted. “And they’re not lost.”

  When her eyes strayed to Jen’s, Sam saw the tug-of-war between her friend’s loyalties.

  “Sam,” the sheriff said seriously, “I didn’t ask what didn’t happen.”

  “Right,” she said.

  “She’s protecting someone,” Jen blurted.

  Mikki and Gina gave uneasy laughs. In a way, Sam didn’t blame them. Jen’s words sounded kind of dramatic, like something you’d hear on television.

  “Go ahead and tell,” Jen told her.

  Sam stared toward the barn corral, hoping for a glimpse of Tempest between the fence rails. The flicker of shiny black comforted her and made her feel a little stronger.

  “Ryan brought Shy Boots—that’s Hotspot’s foal,” she explained to the sheriff, “over to play with Tempest.”

  “Of all the—” Linc began, then clamped his lips shut.

  “While Ryan was here…” Sam said, then swallowed. This was hard to do with just the facts. “He asked me to help hide Hotspot and Shy Boots.”

  “Did he say why?” the sheriff asked.

  “He was afraid his father was going to get rid of Shy Boots while Hotspot was at Sterling Stables.”

  “Is that what you think, or what he said?”

  “He said his father was embarrassed when Hotspot bit and kicked Cloud Cap, and when the Sterlings said it might be easier after the foal was weaned. And Ryan overheard his father talking on the phone to someone this morning, saying the easiest way to wean Shy Boots was to cull him.”

  “Is that so?” the sheriff asked.

  “I’m afraid not,” Linc said. “I left home for Winnemucca long before Ryan was awake, and I didn’t talk with anyone before I hit the road. I did plan to wean the colt early, but I only meant to pasture it where the mare couldn’t see it.�
��

  Sheriff Ballard held up a hand to halt Linc’s long-winded defense.

  “And so, Samantha, you took the horses somewhere,” Sheriff Ballard said.

  “Up to a box canyon on the way to Cowkiller Caldera,” Sam admitted. “And I was just about to tell my dad, because I didn’t think they’d be safe up there overnight.”

  Dad rubbed the back of his neck and scuffed one boot in the dirt. “I wonder why ya took ’em up there, then.”

  “Ryan wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Sam said, but when Dad exhaled and shook his head, she heard how lame her excuse sounded.

  The sheriff closed his notebook with a snap.

  “Doesn’t sound like a crime’s been committed. It’s inconvenient, but a family matter.

  “Linc, since he caused the inconvenience, you might think of sending your boy up there to retrieve those horses, soon as he gets home.”

  “That’ll be a few days,” Linc said. “And I still say he’s not to blame.”

  “They can’t stay up there overnight,” Sam protested.

  “You’re thinking of coyotes and cougars,” Dad said. “She’s got a point. Even if you leave now, Linc, it’ll be dark by the time you get there.”

  They all glanced up. Dusk was falling. Against the purple-gray sky, a bat flickered out from the barn’s loft.

  “They’ll be fine,” Linc said.

  They won’t be fine, Sam thought. But Ryan had been right. Linc had already lost interest in Hotspot.

  Karl Mannix hadn’t. He cleared his throat, attracting everyone’s attention.

  “Sheriff, if you’ll lead the way, I’ll follow you up there and bring the horses back.”

  “The trailer’s still up there,” Sam said.

  “That’s handy,” Karl Mannix said.

  Sheriff Ballard stuck his pen in his shirt pocket. “Shouldn’t take but a few minutes. If it’s okay with you,” he said to Dad and Brynna, “I’ll have Sam ride along to point out the canyon. With it coming on dark, I don’t want to miss it.”

  When Dad nodded, the sheriff said, “Let’s go, Samantha.”

  “But Mikki and Gina,” Sam said. “I have to help get them settled and—”

  “We can handle things without you,” Brynna said, sounding almost cold. “This takes precedence.”

  Sam wasn’t sure, but the firm set of Brynna’s lips implied that since Sam was supposed to be a role model for the HARP girls, she’d better hurry up and clear her good name.

  Chapter Eight

  Sam had always thought it would be fun to ride in a police car. It wasn’t.

  A metal grate loomed behind the seat. She didn’t turn to look at it, but it hovered there like a silent threat.

  She told herself she was lucky Karl wasn’t riding with them. Otherwise Sheriff Ballard might have made her ride in that backseat cage.

  “You can let go,” Sheriff Ballard said as he drove down the highway along the La Charla River.

  Sam didn’t know what he meant. Without taking his eyes from the windshield, he reached over and tapped her clasped hands. Sam looked down.

  Her fingers were interlaced so tightly, she had to work them apart. While she did, she thought of how badly she’d messed up this time.

  Sheriff Ballard was her friend. He’d helped her solve the mystery of her mother’s death and he’d adopted Jinx, the fierce but frightened mustang who’d been a bucking horse. Her misbehavior must be embarrassing for him, just as it was for her family.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

  “I know you did this out of the goodness of your heart,” Sheriff Ballard told her. “But you want to put a little more thought into situations like this. Peer pressure—”

  “I didn’t do it for Ryan; I did it for Shy Boots. I think Ryan’s probably right. Linc would have gotten rid of the colt.”

  “Maybe. And maybe I heard through the grapevine that something like this was brewing.”

  Sam started to ask who’d told him, but she knew he wouldn’t tell.

  “Samantha, how’d you get hurt?” he asked suddenly.

  Sam’s hand darted to her cheek.

  “My filly did it,” she said, wondering why he cared. “I’m training her to lead.”

  “You’re sure?” he said, and the accusation in his words suddenly made sense.

  “Oh my gosh, Ryan didn’t bully me into helping him,” she said. “Ryan’s not that way.”

  “Never be too sure, Samantha. It’s hard to tell what people will do when they’re desperate.”

  For a minute, Sam heard nothing but the tires on the road.

  “It was my filly,” she said, finally. “Dallas saw it happen and Gram bandaged it for me. Ryan was actually a little worried about it.”

  In the car’s dimness, the sheriff nodded.

  “Ryan might be a fine kid. Maybe he just needs to cowboy up a little bit,” the sheriff said a few miles later.

  Cowboy up, Sam thought. The expression made her smile even before Sheriff Ballard added, “You know, quit whinin’ and do what needs to be done. I’d like to think that’s the only problem,” the sheriff continued, “but he told you he’d spring these horses by nightfall, Sam, and now he’s gone. He’s four hundred miles away, for the best part of the week.”

  “I don’t know why he did that,” Sam said. Even to her, her voice sounded small inside the rushing police car.

  “Because he knows you’re the kind of girl who’d do the wrong thing, if it’s for the right reason.” He paused, letting his words sink in before adding, “He left you holding the bag, Samantha.”

  “I know.”

  Sam stared out the window, into the darkness. In that moment, she gave up on Ryan Slocum, for good.

  Only the horses mattered now.

  In the gloomy dusk, Sam almost missed the spot where Ryan had fought so hard to unhitch the trailer.

  “There it is,” Sam said, pointing, but as the sheriff pulled over and parked, she noticed the trailer was open.

  Panic vaulted up in Sam’s chest.

  “I know it probably doesn’t matter,” she said, quickly, “but the trailer was latched. The handle on the door…” she gestured, showing how Ryan had shoved it into place.

  That didn’t make sense. She and Ryan were the only ones who’d known the trailer was here. After he’d dropped her off at River Bend Ranch, could he have come back and put the horses inside? Had there been time for him to do that before the private plane arrived for him and Rachel?

  Sam jumped out of the police car.

  “Don’t touch it, Sam,” the sheriff said before she could close her door. “Let me.”

  Fidgeting, Sam watched the sheriff tug a handkerchief from his pocket, but the trailer was silent. She knew the horses weren’t inside.

  Using the handkerchief to cover his hand, the sheriff opened the trailer door farther. Of course it was empty.

  Karl Mannix drove up in the bright-yellow Hummer, lowered his window, and chuckled at the pains the sheriff was taking not to smear fingerprints.

  “Just gonna check out this trailer, then Sam and I’ll walk up and see that the horses are safe. We’ll bring ’em back down.”

  “How far up is it?” Mannix nodded to the trail.

  The sheriff turned, passing the question to Sam.

  “About a mile,” she said. “It’s a rough walk, but not very long.”

  “Shoot, we can get up there in the Hummer. No need to walk,” Karl boasted.

  “Let’s not rip up the trail,” the sheriff said.

  “It’s nothing but weeds and dirt,” Karl insisted.

  Sam stared at the vehicle Karl wanted to take up the hill. The Hummer was as big as an apartment on wheels. It could crush squirrel burrows, demolish deerpaths, and terrify mustangs. Even if the wildlife escaped, the plants they lived on would be ripped and mashed.

  “Don’t want to take a chance on scaring the horses off, if they’ve broken out,” the sheriff added. “They’ll probably head downhill, towa
rd home.”

  “You’re the expert,” Karl said, and parked. The yellow Hummer glowed in the twilight.

  Sheriff Ballard grabbed a heavy flashlight from his car. Before they left, he turned it on, squatted, and played the beam inside the trailer, then over the dirt surrounding it. Sam and Mannix watched until he rose to his feet.

  “Sam, is there another way—besides this trail—to where you left the horses?”

  Sam pictured the Phantom’s territory, then slowly shook her head.

  “Not unless you start out from Arroyo Azul,” she said, pointing.

  “We’d never make it before dark,” Sheriff Ballard said. “I’m just thinking, if this turns out to be a crime scene, I don’t want to destroy any more evidence than we have to.

  “Mr. Mannix, why don’t you just relax in your vehicle? Sam and I can handle whatever we’ve got here.”

  For two or three heartbeats, Sam felt better.

  “No, I’ll come along,” Mannix insisted. “Don’t think my boss would like it if I stayed behind.”

  “Why’s that?” the sheriff asked.

  Sam heard the challenge in Sheriff Ballard’s voice. Was Mannix hinting that Linc Slocum didn’t trust the sheriff?

  But Mannix only said, “Can’t have him thinking I’m lazy.”

  “Okay,” Sheriff Ballard said. “But stay off to the left side on the way up. Don’t walk on the trail.”

  Sam led the way. Striding up the rocky shoulder, Sam glanced back in time to see Sheriff Ballard’s right hand hover over the gun in its snapped holster.

  She sucked in a breath.

  This whole situation was unreal. How had helping Ryan and the horses gotten her into this mess?

  Sheriff Ballard stayed so close behind, he reached out and steadied her arm when her foot slipped on a rock.

  The sheriff was alert, scanning the terrain around them. More than once, he reminded Karl Mannix to stay off the center of the trail.

  The first time, Mannix apologized. The second time, he laughed. He wasn’t taking this very seriously. He was doing a good job of hiking, though, Sam thought.

  She had to walk faster and take longer strides to stay ahead of him. Another glance back showed Sam why she’d thought his outdoor clothes looked a little odd.