“I don’t know.” He’d thought about that while he’d sat in the jail cell. George wasn’t the most congenial of souls, but Wyatt couldn’t think of anyone on the ranch or in town who’d want to hurt him. “He didn’t confide in me. I don’t know if he’d been threatened or felt that he was in danger. We weren’t close.”
She fell silent as she drove. Wyatt watched the world outside the vehicle pass by. He didn’t need daylight to know every inch of his family spread, to see the yawning expanse of flatland stretching off to the left of the road. To the right, the distant outline of the Snowy Range Mountains reaching toward the heavens was barely visible against the night sky.
“Does this road get much traffic?” she asked, her gaze straying to the rearview mirror.
He shook his head. “No. Only goes to the house. Why?”
“We’re being followed.”
He twisted around in the seat. Behind them lay only darkness. “I don’t see anything.”
“It’s there. I caught a glimpse of moonlight reflecting off chrome.”
If someone hadn’t just tried to frame him for murder, he’d think the woman driving the SUV was paranoid or crazy. Or both. But considering that this morning he’d found a dead body on his porch and had spent the past several hours in jail being grilled like rainbow trout on the barbecue, he wasn’t going to doubt her.
If she said something was behind them, he believed her. Still, he couldn’t see anything.
He powered down the window. Cold air swirled through the cab of the SUV. The sound of the rig’s tires crunching over the packed snow and dirt nearly masked an out-of-place noise. The rev of an engine. But not from a car or truck.
Sticking his head out the window, he strained to listen, to discern what it was he heard.
“A motorcycle,” he decided and rolled the window back up.
“Anyone at the ranch have a motorcycle?”
“No. Not that I know of.”
“Are you buckled in?” Jackie asked.
Reflexively, he touched the buckle to assure himself he was indeed strapped in securely. “Yes.”
“Hang on to Spencer.”
He reached down and grabbed the dog by the collar as she stomped on the brake and twisted the wheel, sending the big, lumbering SUV into a spin and coming to a halt facing the way they’d come. The SUV’s headlights swept over an oncoming motorcycle. The driver swerved at the last second and drove past them, barely avoiding becoming a hood ornament. The single rider wore all black. The machine he rode was also black, except for chrome exhaust pipes.
The motorcycle roared down the road toward the ranch and disappeared.
Jackie made a three-point turn then punched the gas, chasing after the motorcycle. But he was already too far ahead for the headlights to find him in the dark. The tracks glistened in the beam of light. So did the gently falling snow.
Anxiety tripped down Wyatt’s spine. What if the rider reached the house before they did? What would he do? Was the motorcyclist the one who’d killed George and framed Wyatt?
Jackie kept the gas floored, expertly controlling the speeding vehicle on the slick, snow-packed road. There was more than met the eye in this petite package. He added competent driver to his list of her attributes.
Two miles from the ranch, the cycle’s tracks went off-road and disappeared into the dark.
“What’s out there?” She slowed the vehicle to a stop.
“Cattle. That’s the heifer pasture. There’s a feed shed about two miles out. But there’s a fence about a half mile from this road. The gate’s on the other side of the pasture.”
“Have you checked that fence lately?”
Wyatt took in a sharp breath. “That was George’s job.”
She tapped a finger on the steering wheel. “Maybe it’s a squatter. Maybe George discovered him. Maybe that’s why he was killed.”
“That’s a lot of maybes,” Wyatt said, not liking the idea of someone trespassing on his land. “But if that theory were true, how’d the killer get my hunting knife, and why put George on my porch?”
“There’s the rub. Where do you keep the knife?”
“In the truck, beneath the seat.” Exactly where they’d found it. He didn’t miss the slight narrowing of her eyes.
“Lot of people know you keep it there?”
“It wasn’t a secret. And the truck’s always in plain view.”
Snow fell in earnest, a blanket of white that not even the headlights could cut through. That motorcycle rider wouldn’t be getting very far in this blizzard.
“You lock the truck up at night?” Jackie asked.
A sinking feeling hit the pit of his stomach. “No. I don’t.”
She started the vehicle moving again. The windshield wipers worked hard to push the snow from the glass. “So in the middle of the night, anyone could have sneaked onto the ranch and taken it.”
A sense of dread assailed him. “Just like they snuck onto the ranch and left George’s body on my porch.”
She slanted him a quick glance. “Exactly.”
Which meant he and Gabby weren’t safe.
THREE
“Once we get to the house and everyone is inside and buttoned down tight, I’ll come back and have a look-see,” Jackie stated.
“Not in this weather,” Wyatt countered. A greenhorn like her would get herself lost in a whiteout like this. He wouldn’t even chance it without careful preparation.
When they arrived at the house, the whole place was lit up. Carl, Penny and Gabby rushed outside onto the porch to greet them as they climbed out of the vehicle.
Relieved to know his family was okay, Wyatt let out the breath lodged beneath his ribs.
“Daddy!” his daughter squealed, barreling into his legs in a blur of fuzzy pink footsie jammies the second he stepped onto the porch.
“Hey, sweetie.” Swamped with love for his little girl, he lifted her up so she could wrap her little arms around his neck. He tugged the corners of his jacket around her tiny body. His daughter loved him unconditionally. It should be enough. But Dina’s words taunted him. Left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Carl and Penny hugged their niece.
Gabby pointed a finger at Jackie. “Who’s that?”
With her arm around Jackie’s waist, Penny said, “This is Jackie. Remember I told you we had a guest coming?”
Jackie smiled at Gabby. Wyatt liked the way Jackie’s eyes softened when she looked at his daughter.
“Hi, there,” Jackie said. Snowflakes balanced on her blond curls glistened in the glow of the porch light. “I love your freckles.”
“Hi.” Gabby returned the smile and ducked her head into Wyatt’s neck. Her cold little nose pressed against his skin.
“You want to see something neat?” Jackie asked.
Gabby lifted her head and nodded.
Jackie hurried back to the vehicle. Carl followed. While he went to the back of the SUV, Jackie opened the passenger door. She lifted Spencer off the floor and carried him to the house.
Gabby nearly jumped out of Wyatt’s