Hard-Riding Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 3)

Nash glanced over Beckett’s face. “You don’t look sick.”

“I’ve got a date later, so I didn’t eat the dinner.” He replaced his hat and frowned. “And I’m thanking God for that.” He gestured behind him at Hayes, who was hurling into Ma’s potted plant. “Hayes wasn’t so lucky.”

“Jesus,” Nash breathed.

Beckett nodded. “I called in as many people as I knew who wouldn’t mind transporting the guests to the hospital.” He glanced out at the sight of pure chaos. “I believe we’ve got enough drivers now.”

Nash cupped Beckett’s shoulder. “Damn, I owe you. Thank you for handling this.”

“You’re welcome, buddy.” Beckett gave a tight grin. “Now, if you’re back, I’m outta here. I’ve had enough of watching people vomit.”

Nash just inclined his head then watched Shep, Emma, and Chase move to the sick guests sitting on the porch. They weren’t vomiting, but they looked about a second away from it.

“It was the beef.”

Nash glanced over his shoulder, finding Darryl, a cop with River Rock’s police department, and a guy who was in the same graduating class as Chase in high school. He was in shape, he had a scruffy beard and dark hard eyes, and his expression was about as grim as Nash had ever seen. “The beef?”

Darryl nodded and leaned against the car closest to him. “After talking to the guests, everyone who got sick ate one common food. The beef.”

“That’s impossible,” Nash insisted. The beef they served at the guest ranch came directly from Blackshaw’s Meat Company downtown.

Darryl gave a knowing look. “I’m not sure what to tell you, Nash. The beef seems to be the culprit. I’ve sent some samples off for testing, so we’ll know for sure in about a week.”

Fuck.

A poor little girl violently retched into a bag then cried for her mother. This was bad. The same cold shiver ran up his spine as it had with the fire. “Do me a favor. When you test that beef, can you test it for any drugs or chemicals?”

Darryl’s brows rose. “You think someone purposely did this to these poor people?”

“I have suspicions, yes.” No, he knew full well someone was trying to sabotage the guest ranch. Before he’d had suspicions, and now they were confirmed. Blackshaw Cattle Company was top-notch. They wouldn’t have bad beef. And that wasn’t ego talking. That was fact. He simply didn’t feel the need to explain all that to Darryl right now. “Besides, the fire marshal thought the fire seemed purposely set.”

Darryl nodded. “Yeah, I heard that, but he also told me that while they found the gas tanks, they couldn’t find evidence of who planted them.” When Nash parted his lips, Darryl lifted a hand. “I’ll look into it, Nash. The fire, now this, it’s a little too coincidental for my liking too.” He paused to study Nash, then cocked his head and asked, “Tell me this, though: Have you done something to piss anyone off lately?”

Nash snorted. “Knocked up Clint Harrison’s daughter.”

Darryl’s mouth twitched. Obviously he had already heard the news. “While Clint’s a . . .” the side of his mouth curved, “. . . tough nut, I doubt he’d stoop this low.”

“When a man is pushed hard enough, you don’t know what he could do,” Nash muttered beneath his breath, even though Nash hard trouble picturing Clint wanting the land bad enough that he’d poison people. Cutting the fence, yeah, that stank of Clint. But this move seemed desperate. And Clint wasn’t a desperate man.

Darryl’s hard-cop expression slid back into place. “You have no other enemies. You or your brothers?”

“No.”

Darryl cringed as a woman walked by and threw up into a plastic bag before getting into one of Beckett’s friends’ cars. “Yeah, I’ll definitely get the lab to test the meat for any evidence that it’s been tampered with.”

“Thank you.” Nash offered his hand. “Really. I appreciate it.”

Darryl returned the handshake then glanced at the little girl being sick who Nash had noticed earlier. He frowned back at Nash. “When you get a chance, can you shoot me over the names of your employees? I’ll look into them, just in case.”

The thought made Nash’s stomach roil. “Yeah, I can, but let’s hope that’s not the case.”

Darryl gave a measured look and moved away from the car. “Sadly, most times, it’s the people closest to you that burn you.”

He seemed to be talking from experience, but Nash kept the thought to himself as Darryl turned away, heading to his cruiser. When Nash focused back on the guests, most of the cars had cleared out, along with the few ambu

lances. He moved to Shep, Emma, and Chase, who stood at the front of the house. “Darryl thinks it was the beef,” he said when he reached them.

“Not our beef,” Shep said.