Wildfire Page 7

  “H-heart attack.”

  “Is he—”

  “They just ran more tests. They already gave him a drug to break the clot, and they’ve had to defibrillate him twice since he got here. I-I’m waiting to talk to the doctor.”

  Tessa guided Sofia to a chair and sat down next to her, still holding her hand. “I’ve been praying for him, and for you.”

  “And I haven’t stopped praying since I got the call.” Sofia gave Josh a watery smile. “How did you find my cell phone number?”

  “It was on the tack room bulletin board, in the barn.”

  “The doctors say you saved my husband’s life.” She reached out to grasp his hand between both of hers. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just say the word. I can’t ever express how thankful I am.”

  “The EMTs are the ones who really did their job right.” Josh started to rise, then drew in a sharp breath at a sudden stab of pain. Wobbled.

  Tessa was across the room in a flash, grabbing his arm. She pushed him back into his chair. “Sit. Don’t move. Understand?”

  “I’m fine, Tess—”

  “No, you’re not. Sofia?”

  The other woman hurried over to stand next to him, while Tessa disappeared through the double doors of the ER, calling for a nurse.

  And it was only then that he looked down—and found his shirt was soaked in blood.

  It was after midnight by the time Tessa dropped her mother off at Janna’s place and got Josh back to his cabin.

  “I couldn’t be more thankful about you helping Gus the way you did,” she said as she bustled around, pulling shades and turning on lamps. “But you remember what the doctor said, right? No heavy lifting. Take it really easy. Frankly, he seemed surprised that anyone could tear open his sutures like that. You must’ve worked on Gus with CPR for a long time.”

  “I really didn’t have much choice.” He gave her a weary smile. “And I’d do it all over again in a minute.”

  “I know.” She hovered as he made his way across the room to the couch, then reached for his crutches when he set them aside. “And I’m thankful.”

  Their fingertips brushed, just a brief contact, but she felt her cheeks heat and she quickly turned away, embarrassed at her reaction.

  “So now—” Her voice sounded breathless even to her own ears, and she swallowed hard. “Now, you need to take good care of yourself or that incision isn’t going to heal. They said you were really lucky that you didn’t do any internal damage.”

  “Tess.” His voice was low, husky. Gently mocking. “I can take care of myself, but you probably need to get up to the house and get some sleep. It’s been a long day for you, too.”

  “Right.” She’d always been attracted to his dark, good looks. His intelligence and his sense of humor. But now, after what he’d done for Gus despite his own injuries, she felt more drawn to him than ever.

  She backed toward the door, then turned and let herself out into the dark night.

  She’d loved the solitude here…the complete absence of city lights, the blanket of stars at night. The discordant chorus of coyotes that filled the silence. It had always been exactly right, being here with just Gus and Sofia tucked in their private lodgings, and no one else to get in the way.

  But now, as she walked to the house and let herself in the front door, she felt oddly lonely. Bereft. From the shock of nearly losing her old friend, probably.

  But Sofia was most likely already on her way back to the ranch by now, as Gus had stabilized, and he’d insisted that she go home for a decent night’s sleep. He would be home soon, too—the doctor had predicted that he’d have a four or five day stay in the hospital, and then up to thirty days in cardiac rehab at a skilled care center after that.

  Thank you, Lord, for your mercy. For the life of my friend. For keeping him with us. Please, let him recover well and be strong, so he can enjoy retirement…

  Locking the front door, she headed on through the house to the back hall leading to her office and two main floor bedrooms, then took a detour to the kitchen to lock that door as well. Until the string of cabin break-ins in the area, she’d rarely locked up at night. But now—

  She cocked her head, studying the back door, then fumbled for a light switch.

  The heavy oak door was open, as usual, but the screen door was wide open, too. The screen itself was torn from top to bottom, and hung limp and useless.

  She blinked, not believing what she saw, then moved closer.

  This didn’t appear to be the work of a raccoon trying to come in after food, or a larger animal that might’ve blundered into it. The screen looked as if it had been cut by a laser-sharp knife.

  Her pulse stumbled as she spun on her heel, scanning the kitchen. Nothing was out of place. Not the pretty little potted ivy that still sat dead center on the round oak claw-foot table.

  Not the neat stack of mail on the counter, or the orderly row of boots by the door. Even the cookie jar was untouched—a prime target for ’coons—and the old fishbowl by the phone was still full of the coins she tossed in whenever emptying her pockets before doing laundry.

  Still scanning the room, she backed over to the entryway closet and retrieved Claire’s old shotgun and a box of shells from the locked gun cabinet inside. Stood quiet and still for several long minutes, listening for sounds in the house.

  The house felt empty—with that hollow, vacant aura of total silence. She wavered about calling the sheriff’s office, then started a slow, methodical search of the main floor, flipping on the lights in the dining and living room as she went, then the hallway and bedroom lights.

  Everything was pristine…the bedding neatly draped, the dresser drawers closed. No sign of someone pawing through her possessions in search of jewelry.

  Calmer now, she reached the door to her office. She kept no cash here. All important documents were kept in a safe deposit box at the bank. So what could anyone find? Old receipts and livestock records, mostly. Anything more sensitive was safely filed away or shredded.

  She flipped on the light, drew in a sharp breath, then jerked her cell phone from its case and tried to speed dial with shaking fingers. After two false starts, she managed to make the call, then leaned against the door frame and fought back her rising nausea.

  Desk drawers hung askew. Boxes had been pulled out of the closet and thrown across the room. And covering every flat surface was a blizzard of papers that had once been neatly filed.

  Someone had been here, but he—or she—hadn’t grabbed the heirloom jewelry in her dresser. The twenties laying on her bureau. The Nikon camera that still sat on top of one of the file cabinets.

  So what on earth had they been after?

  Lost in thought, she sorted through the wreckage, feeling violated and angry—

  And then, she heard footsteps coming down the hall.

  NINE

  Tessa stilled at the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall toward her office. She moved farther into the room, easing her right hand to the trigger of her shotgun. “Who’s there?” she called out.

  The steps drew closer. “Only me, Tess.”

  At hearing Josh’s deep voice, an uncomfortable mix of relief and anger rushed through her. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “And how did you get in?”

  “The back door was open. You need to fix that screen one of these days, by the way.” He appeared at her office door, propped up with one crutch, his face weary. “I saw all the lights, and thought maybe something had happened to Gus, so—Good grief, what happened in here?”

  “I—I don’t know.” She waved a hand at the litter. “While I was gone, someone tore into my files and went through storage boxes. My computer’s external back-up drive is missing. When I tried turning on the computer, it started to sizzle and smoke, so they did something to it, too. Michael ought to be here any minute. When I called, he was just a few miles away.”

  Josh hobbled into the room to survey the damage, his face grim
. “I’m just thankful you weren’t here. Any idea what someone could be after?”

  “Not a clue. Maybe money, but they left a couple hundred dollars in silver change in the bowl on the kitchen counter, and they didn’t take an expensive camera.”

  A moment later, a knock sounded at the back door, and Michael walked in to join them, carrying a slender case. With a perfunctory nod at Josh, he gave Tessa a quick hug, then he stepped back, still gently holding her hands.

  “Your sisters are going to worry when they hear about this,” he said. “After that gunshot wound, Janna wanted you to bring in a security system and a pit bull.”

  “When you go home, tell her I’m fine. Do you think this is tied in to those cabin break-ins?”

  He scanned the room. “What’s missing?”

  “Other than an external backup for the computer, nothing that I can see. They walked right by valuables, but made a mess in here.”

  “Then this would be a complete departure from the previous break-ins. Those thieves have gone solely after high tech, big ticket items—plasma screen TVs and the like. Or jewelry.”

  “Maybe this was an attempt at identity theft—or a hunt for bank or investment account numbers,” Josh said.

  “A lot of that happens through Internet and e-mail schemes these days, or with thefts from mailboxes, but this seems a lot more focused and personal.” Michael donned a pair of latex gloves and pulled some plastic bags from his briefcase, then began picking up random sheets of paper that had been scattered across the room. “With luck, your friends weren’t smart enough to wear gloves, and their prints are already in IAFIS.”

  “What?”

  “The nationwide database for fingerprints.”

  “That would be just too easy,” Tessa said, dropping into her desk chair. “How long does it take to find out?”

  “Jackson County doesn’t have its own crime lab. They have to be sent on to a latent print examiner in the next county, then go via a terminal to the state lab—then the FBI.”

  “So we won’t know tomorrow.”

  Michael shook his head. “A case like this one won’t take high priority. We might not hear for weeks.”

  “In other words, someone has to die for them to care?”

  “They care. They just don’t have the manpower.” Michael dropped the evidence bags into his case, then pulled out his clipboard and began jotting notes. “I’d definitely contact one of the three main credit bureaus to request a fraud alert, and you’d better contact your bank, too.”

  He wrote a few notes, then looked up at Tessa. “Where were you this afternoon and evening?”

  “I was with my mother until around six. I was on my way to take her home when I heard about Gus, so we went straight to the hospital.”

  “How about you, Josh?”

  “I was here, until Elvis insisted that something was wrong.” At Michael’s raised eyebrow, Josh added, “The dog just wouldn’t leave me alone, and kept running between me and the barn. I found Gus on the floor out there, then I followed the ambulance into town and stayed in the waiting room.”

  “Tell me again about what brought you out to Wyoming.”

  “A photo assignment. Though I’ve made zero progress on it, and time is flying.”

  Michael smiled. “I’ve always wondered how that works. Are you salaried?”

  “If you’re asking whether or not I’m strapped financially, the answer is no. And there’s no way I’d ever steal from a friend or anyone else.”

  Michael met his gaze for a long, unwavering moment, then turned to Tessa. “What about Danny?”

  “No matter what anyone says, he’s a good kid,” Tessa retorted. “Everyone around here wants to make him guilty by association, and that’s just plain wrong.”

  “No one’s saying he’s guilty of anything. I just want to know where he was.”

  “Working, so he wasn’t with his old buddies. He came up mid-afternoon to get things ready for one of our trail rides with a campfire supper. He would’ve been back with the clients around nine o’clock.”

  “And what time did you get back?”

  “After midnight. I dropped Josh at his place, then came to the house and discovered the ripped screen.”

  “And you walked right in anyway.” Michael frowned at her. “Not a good idea, Tess. You should’ve called 911 and waited. What if you’d surprised someone?”

  “I had a shotgun.”

  He shook his head slowly. “You and your sisters are too independent for your own good. One of these days, you’re going to walk into a situation that you can’t handle…and then I’ll just be praying that I can get to you in time.”

  “I can handle myself.”

  “Can you?” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve never figured out who fired that shot at you. Was it accidental—or on purpose? Was it intentionally just a graze, or was that guy trying for center mass? There’ve been two other break-ins in the county, and so far, no one has been hurt. But whether the incidents are related or not, you’ve been a target twice.”

  With Gus in the hospital, Sofia headed into town early the next morning, and Josh knew she’d likely stay there late. Tessa’s truck left the ranch a few minutes later and by mid-morning, Danny had left with a trio of fly fishermen for a three-day weekend pack trip.

  Since her only hired hand was out of commission, Josh could guess at how overwhelmed Tessa must be, dealing with livestock and her outfitting clients.

  He scowled at the cast on his leg. Nine days down and eternity to go. His leg didn’t hurt any longer, but the inconvenience had driven his frustration level to the limit. How could he sit around doing nothing, when everyone was dealing with so much?

  From across the room came a tinny version of Liszt’s “Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2,” courtesy of his cell phone. Leaving his crutches behind, he limped over to the counter.

  “Where have you been?” The impatient voice of Sylvia Meiers, his editor, burst out of the phone before he could even say hello. We haven’t heard from you in three weeks!”

  “Wyoming, as planned.” He eyed his cast in disgust. “Though I did run into a little difficulty.”

  “I don’t want to hear about your ‘difficulties,’ Josh. I want to hear that this time, you’ll be e-mailing me your article and photos with time to spare.”

  Her sharp voice felt like a stiletto driving into his ear. But the words she didn’t say—about articles he’d been unable to complete—rang in his ears nonetheless. And those words were even more painful, because they dredged up every memory he had of his years in the Middle East with World Focus magazine, and that terrible final day…

  The job offer at Green Earth, a sister publication, had felt like a lifeline. A last chance to fulfill the only goal he cared about now.

  But thanks to a speeding pickup and a narrow mountain road, he was going to fail once again.

  “Did you find some ranchers who would cooperate?”

  “Just as planned.”

  “Well…good.” She definitely sounded suspicious. “You know, Josh, that I shouldn’t have given you this assignment. Harv Franklin wanted you fired.”

  Her voice pulled him back to the present. “I’ve got it covered.” Liar, liar.

  “June 28th, Josh. I expect your e-mailed files no later than that. And no excuses, because I put my neck on the line for you. We’ve got the layout planned, and I need this material on time or I promise you, this will be the end of your career.”

  Something, he supposed, that she could accomplish with a few well-placed phone calls. The parent company of the magazine owned eight of the biggest selling periodicals in the country, and Sylvia’s widespread connections in the industry were well-known.

  But this would be his last assignment no matter what Sylvia did, and it wouldn’t be for her sake that he finished it.

  It would be for Lara’s.

  Long after Sylvia’s call ended, Josh slowly paced the room, forcing himself to bear weight on his injured
leg. Ignoring the increasing pain until he finally flopped on the sofa, defeated. Toughing out the discomfort just wasn’t going to work.

  The surgeon had said that the original cast would stay on for at least six weeks, depending on how fast he healed. She’d promised to consider a walking cast in four.

  But that simply wasn’t good enough.

  Josh could start his research on the Internet and begin writing the article. But he couldn’t sit here—he had to get out to interview ranchers and hear their views on the environmental issues surrounding grazing rights on this fragile, arid land.

  And he had to be mobile—so he could hike into the higher ranges, where livestock grazed on government allotments. And that would be impossible with his cast.

  Unless…he glanced out the window toward the barn, where Danny had left a four-wheeler parked by the front door, and smiled, for the first time in days. Maybe he could even find a good way to thank Tessa for her hospitality, before he left Wyoming for good.

  With Gus in the hospital, Tessa had set her alarm for five, finished chores, loaded a horse into her stock trailer and drove down to Wolf Creek to pick up calf supplement at the feed store when it opened at eight o’clock.

  After stopping at the hospital to see Gus, she went to the bank to notify them of the possible theft of identity information and bank account numbers, then spent the rest of the day on horseback, checking on the ninety cow-calf pairs pastured up in the Arrowhead Valley, and the broodmares closer to home.

  Back at the ranch, there were a couple of two-year-old colts to work and chores to do all over again, and the thought of rustling anything up for supper sounded even more exhausting…except, she’d told Josh that he wouldn’t have to worry about cooking his own meals, and he certainly wouldn’t have any groceries to work with. What on earth was she going to feed him?

  With a long sigh, she trudged up the steps to the wide, covered porch of the main house. Pulled open the front door…

  And detected what had to be the most wonderful aroma this side of heaven.