“If she is, that will make you literally a sitting target,” Laredo replied with a touch of black humor. “But you are going to need somebody on the inside, and the list of choices was slim.” He went over them again: “Your daughter is strong and a scrapper, but she tends to wear her emotions on her sleeve and, according to some, tends to be impulsive and hot-tempered. Her husband is the local sheriff and ex-treasury agent. As far as I’m concerned that is reason enough to eliminate him. He would want to turn it all into a legal investigation. From what I could gather, virtually all of your ranch hands were born on the place and are supposedly loyal to the core. But it seems you ran the ranch with a lone hand until your son died and you took Jessy into your confidence and began grooming her to take over. I think you made a good choice.” The road ahead of them was empty of traffic. Laredo slowed the truck and made a U-turn in the middle of the highway. “She’s savvy and cool-headed, able to think on her feet. She doesn’t rattle easy, that’s for sure. She definitely impressed me.”
“Good-looking, is she?” Chase threw him a knowing look.
“Let’s just say that your son had good taste.” Laredo spotted the gate ahead of them and slowed the pickup again. “The entrance is coming up. Don’t forget, she will want a good look at your face when we go past it.”
Hunkered flat among the summer-brown grass, Jessy adjusted the focus on the binoculars, centering it on the man riding on the passenger side. Shock tingled through her. She lowered the glasses to look without the assistance of their magnification, then raised them again. It was impossible. Yet there was no mistaking those hard, angular features. It was definitely Chase in that truck.
She kept the binoculars trained on him until the pickup was well past her. For a stunned moment she simply lay there. Even though she had come this morning, Jessy had never given any real credence to Laredo Smith’s claim that Chase was still alive. Logic had insisted that it was merely the opening gambit in some sort of scam.
But if that wasn’t Chase in the pickup, then the man was a dead ringer for him.
She scooted backward off the sloped side of the hillock, slipped the binoculars back into their leather case, and ran at a crouch back to where she had left the pickup and horse trailer parked. She scrambled into the cab and reached for the pen and notepad lying on the seat. She was surprised to discover her hands were shaking. She paused and took a deep, steadying breath, then scratched out the message, still dazed by the knowledge it wasn’t the one she had expected to write.
Finished, Jessy tore off the sheet and started up the truck, mentally congratulating herself for having the presence of mind to advise Sally that she might not be back in time for lunch.
When she reached the highway, there was no sign of the blue pickup. Ten minutes, she had told him. Hurriedly she nailed the message to a gatepost and climbed back in the truck. After years of experience with towing trailers, she had no difficulty making the swing to reverse directions and head back down the ranch road with a good five minutes to spare.
The road she was on led straight to the Triple C headquarters, roughly forty miles distant. But Jessy didn’t stay on it. Instead she turned north on the first intersecting road, part of the nearly two hundred miles of roads that connected the far-flung reaches of the ranch.
Almost exactly ten minutes after he had last gone past the gate, Laredo approached it again. This time he pulled into the entrance and stopped, his gaze fastening on the sheet of paper fluttering in the slight morning breeze. Leaving the motor running, he climbed out of the truck and retrieved the message from the gatepost, skimmed it, and swore softly. As he slid behind the steering wheel again, he passed the sheet to Chase.
“The bad news is she has agreed to meet you at the old cemetery north of Blue Moon,” he said, shifting the transmission out of Park. “The good news is we have two hours to find it. You wouldn’t, by chance, remember where it is, would you?”
“No. I thought you said you drove all around Blue Moon yesterday.” Chase frowned at him.
“I did, but I don’t remember seeing any cemetery. It must be off the highway on a side road somewhere. There’s probably a way to reach it without going through town, but I don’t know what it is,” Laredo said grimly. “Now I wish Hattie was with us instead of back at the motel in Miles City washing up our clothes. If you can figure out a way to hunker down in the seat when we get to town, you’d better do it.”
Chase chose instead to slump sideways against the door frame and cover his face with his hat, aware that no one was likely to pay any attention to Laredo’s dozing passenger.
The cemetery didn’t turn out to be all that difficult to find. The site suited all the privacy requirements. It was a secluded location along a seldom-traveled road with no residences close by.
Laredo parked the truck in the graveled turn-in and surveyed the weed-riddled, overgrown cemetery. A pair of lone trees stood watch over the faded tombstones.
“I wonder where she is this time,” Laredo murmured, mainly to himself, then glanced at Chase. “The message said that she wants to see you alone. I guess she still thinks I might have kidnapped you.”
“It’s logical that the possibility would cross her mind.” Chase pushed open the passenger door. “Where do you suppose the O’Rourke family plot is?”
“I’m betting it will be somewhere close to one of those trees. With all the brush growing up around them, it would be a good place to wait out of sight.” He swung out of the truck. “I’d better give you a hand. You may be steadier on your feet, but this ground looks awful rough.”
Just as they moved past the hood of the truck, Jessy stepped from behind a clump of brush, holding a rifle at the ready. “You didn’t tell me he was hurt.” Her gaze briefly bored into Laredo, then shifted its attention to Chase to inspect the bandage on the left side of his head.
“That’s the first mistake you’ve made, Jessy,” Laredo replied. “For all you know, I could be holding a gun on him.”
“You could,” she conceded. “But you would be a dead man if you used it. This rifle is already cocked, and I have shot more than my share of coyotes. One more wouldn’t faze me.”
His mouth quirked in a crooked smile. “You know what? I believe you.”
During their exchange, Chase studied this tall, boy-slim woman in jeans and a well-worn straw Stetson, noting the high, strong cheekbones and sharp, angular jawline. Laredo’s previous description of her hadn’t conveyed the inner beauty that shone through her strong features. Not the rifle she gripped nor the manly clothes disguised the fact she was all woman.
“Do you still insist on talking to me alone?” Chase challenged smoothly. “Because I wouldn’t be here at all without this man. Laredo saved my life. He is the only person I trust right now.”
Jessy’s hesitation was slight. “If you trust him, then I do.” She engaged the safety on the rifle. “There isn’t anyplace for you to sit out here. Maybe it would be better if we talked in the truck.”
“Good idea.” Chase promptly turned and started back to the pickup, with Laredo at his side.
“For safety’s sake, you might want to leave the rifle outside,” Laredo suggested as he kept a supporting hand on Chase while he climbed into the passenger side.
“I planned on it,” Jessy replied and laid it in the open truck bed.