Kidnapped Colt Page 7

  Karl Mannix wore cowboy clothes down to his boots. They were hiking boots, which laced around hooks up to his ankles.

  As darkness closed in, Sam heard something on the trail ahead and stopped to listen. There was a gentle plop of weight hitting dirt.

  “What’s going on?” Mannix asked loudly.

  Sam held her hand up, listening. It was probably nothing to worry about, but the darkness made her turn to Sheriff Ballard.

  “Deer?” he asked under his breath.

  “Yeah, of course,” she whispered.

  Then the creature plunged off the trail and into a thicket of brush.

  “Must be,” she said. “Jen and I didn’t leave any cattle up here, and I don’t think we’d hear a mustang.”

  “Not if he heard us first,” the sheriff said.

  Still, with every step she took, Sam’s eyes swept the shadows, watching for the Phantom.

  He’d been up here just hours ago. Only humans could keep him from stealing Hotspot if he wanted to add her to his harem.

  “We’re getting close,” Sam said at last.

  A faint evening breeze rustled the cottonwood leaves ahead, but they heard no questioning nicker from Hotspot or Shy Boots.

  She hoped the mare was just dozing, with the foal tucked beside her.

  When they were almost there, Sam’s steps slowed and Sheriff Ballard clicked on his flashlight.

  “Fence is down,” he said as the beam struck orange plastic strewn on the ground.

  The light lifted, played across the canyon’s rock walls, then dropped, hunting over the grass, searching for the horses.

  But Sam’s hopes had already sunk. The horses were gone.

  For a few minutes, Sheriff Ballard examined the plastic fence and the thick branches she and Jen, then she and Ryan, had used as posts.

  “Someone took this fence down,” the sheriff said flatly.

  “How do you know?” Mannix asked. “I bet they broke out and ran for the hills.”

  Sam crossed fingers on both hands, hoping Mannix was wrong.

  “Horses would jump over, or break through with their chests, pulling the fence through the staples. They sure wouldn’t aim for the posts. Whoever got ’em out yanked right here by the posts and popped the staples loose.”

  Relief coursed through Sam. The Phantom wasn’t to blame.

  “Amazing,” Mannix said with a chuckle, and it struck Sam that he hadn’t expected such detailed analysis from a small-town sheriff like Heck Ballard.

  “Should we have Jake come up and look for tracks?” Sam asked.

  “No,” Sheriff Ballard said. “Ryan wanted to keep the horses from his dad. This is for them to work out.”

  “Yeah,” Mannix seconded.

  “I don’t know how he would’ve had time,” Sam protested.

  “He might’ve hired some help,” Sheriff Ballard said. “After all, look how he turned to you.”

  It sounded nice, put that way, but Sam knew Sheriff Ballard was repeating what he’d told her before. If Ryan had left her holding the bag, why wouldn’t he hire someone else to take the horses?

  The walk back down was quiet as the three concentrated on putting their feet in safe places on the steep trail.

  “Sheriff, I’ll just hitch up that trailer and be on my way,” Mannix said when they reached level ground again.

  “Leave it here,” Sheriff Ballard said, and when Mannix looked startled, he added, “I want another look at it in the daylight. You never know where you’ll find evidence.”

  He sounded friendly, Sam thought, but firm.

  “I’ll call you if they turn up back at the ranch,” Mannix said, then started toward the Hummer.

  “You do that,” Sheriff Ballard said, then stood watching as Mannix drove the vehicle carelessly to the highway.

  Once they were back in the truck, Sheriff Ballard radioed his office to tell Linc Slocum to stick around River Bend Ranch. After that, they drove in silence.

  When Sam and the sheriff drove into the ranch yard, Sam saw the white curtain on the kitchen window pulled back.

  Whoever was looking would notice they didn’t have a horse trailer hooked on behind.

  Gram held open the kitchen door and Jen stood behind her. Dad, Brynna, Mikki, and Gina sat at the kitchen table, watching expectantly as Sam walked inside. Linc sat there, too, but he barely glanced up.

  “The horses were gone,” Sam said.

  Jen’s hands went up to cover her eyes. Then, after a loud exhalation, her arms dropped to her sides and she returned to sit at the table along with the others.

  “That’s a shame,” Brynna said.

  Sam wanted nothing more than to climb the stairs to her room, pull the covers over her head, and pretend this day had all been a bad dream.

  “We’re just finishing a fried chicken dinner,” Gram said, and only then did Sam notice the scent of Gram’s buttermilk batter. “There’s plenty left for you, Sam. And Sheriff, we’d love to have you join us. It’s the least we can do after you taking so much time and trouble.”

  Shouldn’t Linc be the one saying that? Sam let out a heavy sigh, but her tight chest felt no better for it.

  “No, though I do thank you,” Sheriff Ballard. He, too, waited for some reaction from Linc. “I should probably be getting back to town.”

  In a moment of silence, Linc rubbed his napkin across his lips and met the sheriff’s gaze.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing,” Linc chuckled. He rocked his chair back on two legs and patted his belly.

  “Put all four legs of that chair on the floor,” Gram snapped.

  Everyone at the table looked shocked. Gram had reprimanded Linc Slocum as if he were a kid.

  Sam felt a cranky spurt of satisfaction.

  He shouldn’t act like one if he doesn’t want to be treated like one, Sam thought.

  “Sorry, Grace,” Linc said as he complied.

  Despite the sheriff’s refusal, Sam noticed Gram had loaded two plates with chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans.

  Linc didn’t seem interested in anything except the two biscuits left in the bread basket.

  He eyed Sam with a raised eyebrow.

  There was something kind of warped in the way he silently encouraged her to give permission for him to have hers.

  Fat chance, Sam thought, but what she said before she even settled in her chair was, “Please pass the biscuits.”

  Chapter Nine

  “So the horses were just gone?” Jen asked, after Sam had eaten a few bites of dinner.

  Sam noticed Jen covered her lips right after asking, as if the subject were too awful to discuss. Jen understood the horses’ danger, and she was sharing the blame.

  Linc Slocum didn’t seem to. He swallowed a bite of chicken and gave Sam a smirk.

  “And I suppose you know nothin’ more about their disappearance than a hog knows about a sidesaddle,” Linc said finally.

  “I don’t,” Sam said. She was too tired and heart-sick to fight, so she took a sip of milk before adding, “The last time I saw Hotspot and Shy Boots, they were in that corral.”

  Linc shook his head with a snicker.

  Sam was pretty sure it was the laugh that pushed Dad to the edge of his patience.

  “Linc…” Dad began. He looked down as if addressing his plate, but Sam saw his knuckles were white from holding his fork so tightly. “Neighborliness has limits. If Sam says she doesn’t know what’s become of those horses, she doesn’t.”

  “And you still haven’t talked with your son,” Sheriff Ballard pointed out as he took a bite of mashed potatoes.

  “As a matter of fact, I have,” Linc said. “Got him on his cell phone, which is why, and I hope you’ll pardon me, Wyatt, but I’ve got to say it straight out, I’m convinced Samantha knows what’s happened. Ryan told me she’s the only one who knew where those Appaloosas were, and she promised to take care of them while he was gone.”

  “He told me—no, he promised me—he’d b
e back before nightfall!” Sam yelped.

  Ryan was lying.

  Her anger built as she thought of Ryan in San Francisco, a city she loved. She imagined him eating freshly caught crab and warm sourdough bread on Fisherman’s Wharf. Or maybe he was sipping jasmine tea and breaking open a fortune cookie in Chinatown while she worried over the colt he claimed to care about.

  “Give me his cell phone number,” she told Linc, “and I’ll find out what’s really going on.”

  “I don’t think so, young lady,” Linc said.

  Jen jabbed Sam with her elbow.

  “Ow!” Sam said, frowning at her friend.

  “Sorry,” Jen said, but Sam could tell she wasn’t. Her eyes were hinting at a secret.

  “Sam’s been home since two o’clock, Linc,” Gram said. “Ryan dropped her off just before Jen arrived. Sam didn’t have a chance to go anywhere.”

  “Sam didn’t take the horses out of there,” the sheriff said. “Unless she’s taught herself to drive.”

  “That so?” Dad asked.

  “Most likely,” the sheriff said.

  Sam was surprised, but heartened, when both Mikki and Gina gave her a thumbs-up and said, “Yeah!”

  It was cool that they were on her side, Sam thought, remembering how Sheriff Ballard had bent to play his flashlight beam over the dirt before they even started up the hill. He must have been looking for tire tracks.

  That let her off the hook, in one way, but her feelings were still all snarled up. Neither she nor the Phantom were directly to blame for the horses’ disappearance. But she’d put Hotspot and Shy Boots in a place where they had no protection against thieves.

  “Should I expect you to come into my office and file a report?” the sheriff asked Linc.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Linc demanded.

  “Just asking,” Sheriff Ballard said.

  “Do you still hang horse thieves out here?” Gina asked with a totally fake guffaw.

  Sam winced. Gina had rotten judgment, but Sheriff Ballard just gave her a quick frown.

  “We don’t even catch most of them,” he told her. “But we’ve got a good start on this one. Linc, you might want to get on the phone to Duke Fairchild at Mineral Auction Yards, first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Sam shivered and her eyes met Dad’s. The last time they’d been at the auction yards, she and Dad had rescued Tinkerbell, a giant mustang who’d nearly been sold for slaughter.

  It wasn’t unusual for ranchers to bring aged saddle horses, or other animals they considered useless, to Mineral Auction Yards.

  With nightmarish clarity, Sam remembered a man named Baldy. With his clipboard and calculator, he’d reduced each horse to its price per pound and decided whether to purchase it for the Dagdown Packing Company.

  “Hotspot’s a valuable horse,” Sam said. “No one would sell her for—you know.”

  “The ‘criminal genius’ pretty much exists only on TV and in the movies,” Sheriff Ballard said.

  Gina made a soft noise of protest, but no one seemed to hear.

  “I’m not saying it would happen, but it could. By the pound, those Appaloosas would sell for at least five hundred dollars,” Sheriff Ballard said. “A thief could make a tidy profit for a few hours’ work.”

  “That’s awful,” Jen said. “Do you think, by calling Mr. Fairchild, we can keep it from happening?”

  We, Sam thought, smiling.

  This was another reason Jen was her best friend. She’d already taken on the task of finding the horses. Sam guessed she could forgive her for that jab in the ribs.

  “Duke keeps an eye on the stock coming into his place,” Dad was saying. “He’s a good businessman and sure doesn’t want the publicity of selling a stolen horse.”

  “He told me he’s especially careful accepting animals that arrive just minutes before the sales,” Brynna said. “Most cattle and horse thieves give owners or neighbors as little time as possible to recognize stolen animals.”

  “Who wouldn’t recognize their own horse?” Mikki asked.

  Sheriff Ballard glanced pointedly at Linc, but Linc didn’t notice. He was busy watching Gram arrange cookies on a platter.

  “Horses can be disguised with hair dye,” Brynna told Mikki. “Sometimes they’ll trim manes and tails, too. At a glance, the horse might look like a completely different animal.”

  “There’s more I can do, Linc,” Sheriff Ballard said, thoughtfully, “if Hotspot is valued at more than $750.”

  The mention of money snagged Linc’s attention away from Gram’s cookies.

  “You bet your boots, she is,” Linc insisted. “Every animal on my place is! Except for that colt and Kitty, the mare I bought from—” He jerked his thumb toward Dad, and Sam felt herself grow hot with anger. He was talking about the Phantom’s mother. “—they all have the finest bloodlines. Why, I was tellin’ Karl just the other day that I’ve got millions of dollars tied up in my Brahmas, my Dutch Belted cattle, that Morgan of Rachel’s, my saddlebreds, Quarter Horses, and that Thoroughbred—what’s his name?”

  He looked to Jen for the answer.

  “Sky Ranger,” she told him.

  “Right, Sky Ranger. And I almost forgot those ponies from the Shetland Islands. They’re worth more than all the others put together.”

  “Those shaggy little ponies?” Gram asked, then tsked her tongue.

  “Abso-darn-lutely,” Linc said. “They have their own insurance policy. And was it pricey? Whoo-ey, I just guess it was.”

  “The point of my question,” the sheriff said, moving his hand in a rewinding motion, “was to establish that if they were stolen and valued over $750, the crime would be a felony,” Sheriff Ballard said. “Since it is, I’ll contact other law enforcement agencies….”

  Sam watched Linc as the sheriff and Brynna added up all the agencies they could turn to for help.

  “The city police in Reno,” Brynna said, thinking aloud, “and sheriffs’ departments in the adjoining counties?”

  “You bet,” Sheriff Ballard said.

  Sam was disappointed when Linc didn’t seem a bit edgy. He didn’t appear worried for himself or Ryan or the horses. His eyes didn’t shift with uneasiness—they just kept darting toward the plate of cookies.

  “Of course we’ll keep watch among the wild horse herds,” Brynna said. “Just in case.”

  “I’d like that done straight away,” Linc said.

  “So would I, but the federal government didn’t figure the cost of putting up a helicopter to look for your lost Appaloosas into BLM’s budget,” Brynna said.

  Linc crossed his arms and glared at Brynna. “I’m not joking,” he said.

  “And neither am I,” Brynna said.

  When Dad raised a hand to cover a cough, Sam was pretty sure he was trying to hide a smile.

  “To tell you the truth, there’s not much interest in this sort of case,” the sheriff said. “Because evidence is hard to gather.”

  “Wouldn’t someone need Hotspot’s papers to get the amount she’s worth?” Jen asked.

  “Papers can be forged,” Sheriff Ballard said. “And some folks don’t ask questions if they think they’re getting a good deal.” He was quiet for a minute, then turned to Sam with a smile. “But I know how I’d feel if someone made off with Jinx, so I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thanks,” Linc said idly. “Karl said he’d get on the Internet, too. He’s a genius with computers.”

  I knew he looked like a computer nerd, Sam thought, and gave a satisfied nod.

  “That’s a good idea,” the sheriff said, “and it wouldn’t hurt if you put some flyers into local feed stores, at rodeos—anywhere people pay attention to horses.”

  “We could help,” Brynna said suddenly.

  “Help what?” Linc asked, but Brynna’s gaze swept over Sam, Jen, Mikki, and Gina, and she smiled.

  “Making phone calls and flyers would give us an extra project for the evenings, when we’re not riding,” Brynna said.


  “Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Like we did last time, tracking down the freeze brand on Jinx.”

  “That’d be cool,” Mikki said.

  When Gina nodded with a sly smile, Sam and Jen met each other’s eyes. They hardly knew the girl, but they could tell she was up to something.

  “Now, you ladies just leave it to the experts,” Slocum said.

  “Brynna is an expert,” Sam snapped.

  Linc must have felt Dad’s glare, because he conceded, “You’re right. I don’t see how that could hurt.

  “Time for me to go, I guess,” Linc said as he pushed his chair away from he table. Standing slowly, he gazed toward the cookies Gram had yet to serve.

  “Keep in touch, Linc,” Sheriff Ballard said. “If you hear anything more from your boy, or if the horses happen to show up on their own—”

  “Yeah, sorry to trouble you all,” Linc said. “Thanks for the meal, Grace. I wish I could lure you away to cook for me. I swear, you do a much better job than that Coley woman.”

  Linc couldn’t open his mouth without offending someone, Sam thought. He had to know “that Coley woman” was Helen Coley, one of Gram’s best friends.

  “I’ve got plenty to do right where I am,” Gram said pleasantly.

  As soon as the door closed behind Linc Slocum, Brynna sighed.

  “There’s no way in the world he’ll go to any trouble for those horses. He’ll just file an insurance claim and forget about them.” Brynna turned to Jen, Mikki, and Gina. “Sorry to be so blunt, girls, but it’s the truth.”

  “Probably so,” Sheriff Ballard said.

  “But Ryan loves those horses,” Jen protested. Then, when she caught everyone looking at her, she pushed aside her affection for Ryan and added, “Okay, I admit it doesn’t look like it, but do you know what I think?”

  The kitchen quiet was broken only by the sound of the grandfather clock in the living room, bonging seven.

  “What do you think?” Sam asked finally.

  “Ryan trusted you to do what was best for the horses. He knew you wouldn’t leave them up there all night. He knew you’d find a way to go up and get them, even if you got in trouble.”

  Jen sounded so sincere, no one said anything.

  Sheriff Ballard’s hard eyes flicked to Sam’s, though, and after he stood and thanked the Forsters for their hospitality, he nodded her way.