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“Am I going to like it?”
“Hmm… I think you’ll be okay with it.”
“Shoot.”
He laughed. “Probably not the best phrase to use with a guy who makes his living carrying a gun.”
In spite of herself, she giggled. “What, then?”
“The big buckskin I rode? Roscoe?”
“What about him?”
“Any chance you could take him out of your rotation and let him be my personal horse? He was a great ride… almost as much fun as his owner.”
She laughed. “You’re a sick bastard, you know that? I ought to get all melodramatic and make out like that’s a real hardship, but the fact is I rarely, if ever, use him with clients. He has way too big an engine for most people. I just like him a lot, and it’s great to have a backup for Gator in case he’s not available. So, yeah, Marshal McDaniel, you can consider Roscoe yours.”
“Thanks.” He leaned over and kissed her deeply.
Willa was certain he was about to say more when the phone rang. It was John Hampton, so Mac put it on speaker.
“John? I have you on speaker.”
“Good.”
“Did you find the shooter? I saw you guys were moving in.”
“We found him, but he was dead when we arrived. We figured Eastwick got to him first.”
“Eastwick took out a professional?”
“Not a very good professional, but regardless of who took him out, he’s of no use to us. There was nothing left behind. Hopefully, we have his DNA in our database and can find a name, but I’m not sure that’s going to do us much good.”
“Tell me you called with something even resembling good news.”
“We think we have a good lead on Eastwick. Some guy in the middle of nowhere had a couple of horses stolen and two others left in their place. We think he may have swapped them out.”
“Not exactly SOP, but I have a feeling where this conversation is going to go. Willa may as well be in on it from the beginning.”
“I’m afraid you do,” John sighed. “Hey, Willa.”
“Hey, John. Were the horses left a couple of big warmbloods, one a blood bay with a stripe down his face and two hind socks?The other would have been a fancy sorrel with a blond mane and tail with a dark stripe running down the middle of his tail.”
“That’s them.”
“Don’t let anyone touch them until we can get there, or at least have Gus to go clean out their feet.”
“Why?”
“Because we may be able to tell where they’ve been. Might not tell us where he’s going, but if we know where they’ve been and where he swapped them out…”
“We might be able to figure out where they’re headed.”
“Mac?” John said.
“Damn it, John.”
“You know I’m right.”
