Twelve-Gauge Guardian

Unfortunately, he had a stop sign, then several cars pulled out that he had to wait for. But the second he’d gotten the chance, he’d gone after her, not surprised to see the pickup hightailing it out on one of the secondary roads south.

He had to floor the rental car to keep the pickup in sight. Cyrus would have had a heart attack if he saw the way this woman was driving his truck. The thought brought a stab of pain.

The pavement ran out. Dust boiled up behind the truck. She took a curve, throwing up gravel from the tires. Cordell backed off a little after getting the windshield of the rental car pelted, several bits of gravel pitting the glass.

He fished out his cell phone to call the sheriff’s department, but found there was no cell phone service. It was just as well. At least now he could say he’d tried to call. The truth was he wanted to talk to Raine Chandler alone. He didn’t want her pleading the Fifth and getting locked away behind bars where he couldn’t get the truth out of her.

The narrow dirt road wound south over the rolling prairie, a roller coaster ride at this speed. He just prayed they didn’t meet another vehicle coming up the road. There was barely enough room for one car. Going this fast, Raine would never be able to get far enough over to let another car pass.

At first he was convinced he would come up over a hill and find Cyrus’s pickup wrecked at the bottom. But this apparently wasn’t her first time driving on roads like these. He wondered what part of California she was from that she’d learned to drive on narrow dirt roads rutted with washboard.

He gave her a little space, confident that with all the dust she was throwing up, she wouldn’t be able to lose him.

They left Whitehorse long behind them. As the country began to get more rugged, he realized they must be nearing the Missouri Breaks. He’d driven through the Breaks on the way to Whitehorse, crossing the Missouri River as it cut a deep gorge through this desolate, isolated country.

The country was familiar, too familiar, since he’d spent his first seven years living out here in the middle of nowhere on the Winchester Ranch. Unless he was mistaken, they weren’t that far from the ranch.

Cordell was beginning to worry he’d never be able to catch her if she cut across to Highway 191. But then he saw the pickup fly over a cattle guard and come down hard, the right rear wheel hitting loose gravel on the edge of the road. He got on his brakes to keep from going airborne off the cattle guard, as well, and saw the rear of the truck fishtailing.

He could see her fighting to regain control. She almost pulled it off. Then she hit a stretch of deep washboard. The pickup tires lost traction and the next thing Cordell knew the truck was headed for the ditch adjacent to the road.

Fortunately, the ditch wasn’t deep, but it was filled with water and mud which streamed up and over the truck before the vehicle finally came to a stop bogged down in the gumbo. Raine Chandler wasn’t going anywhere.

Cordell was already out of his car and running toward the pickup before the driver’s-side door swung open. He grabbed her and dragged her out, this time not giving her chance to go for her weapon.

Taking the gun from her jacket pocket, he stuck her pistol barrel against her temple, forcing her to her knees in the dirt next to the ditch as he held both wrists behind her. “Who put my brother in the hospital?”

“I told you—”

“I swear I will drown you in that ditch if you don’t start telling me the truth.”

He heard her take a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was shaking, no doubt from the adrenaline of the chase—certainly not from fear of him. There was a determination in her eyes that he’d misjudged before. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“If you let me up, I’ll tell you everything.”

He let out a bark of a laugh. “You think I’m going to fall for that again?”

“I already told you. I was crossing the parking lot behind the hotel when someone tried to run me down. Your brother shoved me out of the way, I fell and that’s all I remember. I must have blacked out for a moment because when I came to, your brother was lying there on the ground and I could hear sirens.”

He pushed her down harder, pressing the gun barrel into her temple. “Why didn’t you stay and tell the sheriff’s deputy what had happened?”

She shook her head, making him want to throttle her. “I told you. I was scared. I panicked.”

“Bull. You didn’t want to be involved. Why?”

“I was scared.”

He couldn’t imagine anything scaring this woman. He also didn’t believe she’d come back to the hotel this morning to find out Cyrus’s name. So what had she been looking for?

“Do you have a permit to carry this gun?”

She hesitated a little too long. “Not in Montana.”

“Why are you carrying a gun anyway?” he demanded.

“I live in L.A. You’d carry a gun, too.”

Cordell didn’t know what to think. Was it possible Cyrus had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or was this woman lying through her teeth?

“Why would someone want to run you down?”

“How would I know? Maybe they mistook me for someone else. Or maybe it was an accident. Now would you please let me up?”

“Like your tire on your car just happened to be slashed?”

He sighed. He was getting nowhere with her. He let go of her hands, standing back in case she came up fighting, which he half expected. To his surprise, she got slowly to her feet.

“How is your brother?” she asked quietly.

“He’s in a coma.” Cordell had to look away. Just saying the words made it all too real.

“I’m sorry.” She sounded surprised and sympathetic.

“Good,” he said. “Because you’re going to help me find the person who did this to him.”

“I told you I don’t know who was behind the wheel of that van.”

That, he thought, might actually be the truth. But he suspected she knew damned well why the person had cut her tire and then tried to run her down. Cyrus couldn’t have gotten downstairs from the fourth floor fast enough, unless he’d seen the man knife her tire and then go wait for her in the van with the motor running.

Cordell stepped to the open door of the pickup and took out her purse, an overnight bag with a small laptop computer tucked in the side and a large leather satchel. Laying each in the grass, he began to go through them, keeping the gun within reach should he need it.

“Please, that’s my personal—”

“Stay right where you are,” he warned her.

She stopped moving toward him, looking resigned as he opened her purse and quickly searched it. A little over two hundred in cash, most in crisp new twenties probably straight from the ATM machine. A California driver’s license. He glanced at the information on it. Twenty-six.

Nothing unusual in her overnight bag.

He was beginning to wonder if she might really be telling the truth when he opened the large leather satchel. “What the hell?”

Chapter Four (#ulink_36439861-a1f5-5239-b0dc-caaa6f2ea7ec)

Raine was still reeling from what he’d told her. His brother was in a coma? She felt sick to her stomach even before Cordell opened her satchel.

“I asked you what the hell this is,” he demanded, taking a step toward her, shock and disbelief contorting his handsome face.

“I’m a journalist.” The lie didn’t come easily even though it was the one she’d been using for her cover. She hated lying to him. She’d inadvertently gotten his brother into this. She felt guilty enough. Lying didn’t make it any easier. But she still couldn’t be sure she could trust this man….