Page 61 of Homicide in Water Creek

“She’s a special girl. I was planning to use her to start a new equine therapy program.”

His eyebrows went up. “A new therapy program? What about the cowboy school?”

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “The rodeo program has run its course. Granddaddy is ready to retire, but we have to do something with all of this. I’m not sure what feels right.” Jacks wanted to vomit. This was hard. Pretending she wanted to sell this ranch, this land, for a greener pasture was ridiculous. This was the greenest pasture. Still, she forced the words out and prayed she was pulling it off.

“Ever thought about just selling the place and moving on? I bet this place is worth a lot of money.”

Jacks cleared her throat and patted Dakota’s neck. “I think the last assessment put it over five million.”

“That’s quite a payday.”

“I suppose,” she agreed, grabbing a brush for the horse. “It would have to be the right offer, though. I wouldn’t mind not working 24/7, but I have to make sure Granddaddy is taken care of.”

“Sure, sure. But hey, with that much money, you could get pretty far,” Chinos said, inching closer to her.

“I could get the hell out of this town. I’m so tired of cowboys. I need a new adventure.”

“I hear you. Why do you think I’m here? I need a new adventure. Between you and me, I’ll never be a rodeo rider. I suck at it, but I’m having fun. Isn’t that what matters?”

She pointed at him and winked. “You’re so damn right. I want to live life beyond these two hundred acres. I want to dress up and dance the night away in a grand ballroom. I want to eat food that’s bad for me and drink champagne. I want to smell like fancy perfume instead of horses and hay.”

“Do you think you can convince Jackson to sell this place, though? He seems pretty attached.”

When Jacks shrugged, she hoped it read ‘no big deal’ rather than ‘over his dead body.’ She needed this guy to believe she was genuine about selling the place. “With enough money, he’d probably jump at the chance to retire and travel.”

“I might know someone who would be interested in purchasing this place.”

She raised an eyebrow and tried not to hyperventilate. “Seriously? Wow, yeah, that’d be great, but I need some time to think it over. I haven’t even talked to Granddaddy about selling, and he needs to be on board, too. Maybe by the time the rodeo school is done in the spring, I’ll have convinced him.”

“You misunderstood me,” Chinos said, drawing a gun from behind his back. “I have someone interested in purchasing this place now. I don’t have time to wait until spring. Walk away from the horse and put your hands up. Don’t make any sudden moves.”

Damn her busted-up leg. It was barely holding her up these days, let alone letting her run. Even her hop, skip, gallop routine was no longer possible. She had no idea what was wrong with it, but something had changed. She was worried the cancer was back, but that was the last thing she had time to worry about now. Unfortunately, her crutch was out of reach, or she’d use it to knock the gun from his hand. All she could do was rely on her wits and her sass to save herself. It was nearly dark, but there should still be people around the barns and arena. If she screamed, would someone hear her?

The gun he held loomed in her vision. A 9mm pistol, its red laser sight centered on her chest. Calling for help would likely result in him killing her before anyone could save her. Not to mention, she didn’t want to put anyone else at risk.

“Jordan,” she said, bringing a smile to his face. “Let’s not be hasty here.”

“So you know.” The three words were followed by a shrug. “How did you figure it out? It wasn’t from my fingerprints.” He waved his left hand. “The car fire took care of those, so I’d love to know. I don’t want to make the same mistake next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.” Jacks had to keep him talking if she was going to get out of this alive. “But to answer your question, it was facial recognition. Sure, it took a while, but we eventually got a hit. On a dead man. Why the subterfuge?”

“Simple,” he answered, stepping toward her. “Dead men can’t talk. It’s handy to be dead. I can be whoever I want to be.”

“If that’s the case, you should work harder at it because you’re not dead to technology. If it wasn’t you in that car fire, who was it?”

“I don’t ask questions,” he said with a shrug. “My boss took care of it, making sure I had top-of-the-line medical care for my hands. Once I was pronounced ‘dead,’” he said, using air quotes, “the real fun began.”

“You’re his muscle? His clean-up crew? Why are you here?”

Chinos swung the gun back and forth, but never in a way that would let her lunge at him. A sinking feeling settled in her gut. There was no way out of this. She’d agreed to stay at the ranch and let Chinos find her. Keene and Jackson were on patrol under the guise of helping the rodeo riders in the arena, and King was patrolling the area, but they couldn’t make it obvious. Now she wished they’d taken more time to plan it. Then again, none of them expected him to pull a gun on her in her own barn.

“I’m whatever he needs me to be. Tonight, I’m his personal assistant and your chauffeur. The boss wants to speak to you. The boss gets what the boss wants.”

“Why doesn’t he come talk to us? Does he really think sending a flunky with a gun is the way to do business? If he wants this land, he should do business face-to-face.”

He tossed her a pair of cuffs. “You’re not giving the orders here. I am. Put them on.”

Jacks’s phone buzzed in her back pocket. It was probably King. If she didn’t answer, he might come looking for her. “If I put those handcuffs on, I won’t be able to balance at all,” she said, not picking up the handcuffs. “There’s something wrong with my leg. I’m not just saying that. It’s barely holding me up.”