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“What if they’re not really scared? What if the cartel sent them to track down Rose and report back? They could ride the horses back to civilization, steal a car, and be out of here.”
“In that case, you’d win your beer. But we’d have to go after them first, wouldn’t we?” Bull thought of the heavy Smith and Wesson .44 he kept under the seat of the truck, along with the 12-gauge shotgun that had belonged to Rose’s grandfather. He swore silently. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken a chance on the pair. If he’d assumed the worst from the beginning, he and Jasper wouldn’t be here now. He’d let himself go soft because he knew Rose cared about them. But hell, they were drug runners for the cartel. What had he been thinking?
“Do you think Rose will be all right?” he asked, changing the subject.
Jasper chuckled. “Sure. She’s with Tanner. He’s a tough man, and I’ve seen the way he looks at her, like he’d take on an army to keep her safe.”
“But what if the cartel shows up?”
“Then Tanner might need a little help from us.” Jasper’s reply said it all. A danger to Rose was a danger to the Rimrock family.
The sun was descending the arc of the sky. Its rays made a filigree pattern through the leaves as the truck wound its way up the road. Now they could see the line shack, a simple clapboard cabin with a chimney for the iron stove inside and an outhouse around the back.
“No sign of life,” Jasper observed. “Not even the horses.”
“It’s early yet,” Bull said. “Maybe they’re out riding herd.” They pulled the truck off a wide spot in the road, climbed out of the truck, and hiked up the short, grassy slope to the line shack. “Anybody home?” Jasper called.
There was no answer.
When they rounded the corner of the shack, they saw that the door was open.
“Something’s wrong.” Bull had taken his .44 out of the truck. He paused to check the chamber and cock the weapon before they moved forward, cautiously now.
They had nearly reached the threshold of the shack when the smell hit them—a sickening odor they both recognized. “Oh, good Lord,” Jasper murmured as he stepped into the doorway.
Raul and Joaquin lay sprawled faceup, their blood spreading around them in clotted pools. One had been shot in the chest, the other in the forehead. Black flies filled the awful silence with their buzzing.
The sight of the dead men was shocking enough. But there was more. Scattered over, around, and even partway under the bodies were dozens of bloodstained fifty- and hundred-dollar bills, sticking to their hands and clothes and lying in the blood. The total, Bull estimated at a glance, amounted to several thousand dollars. And suddenly, chillingly, he understood.
“What the devil . . .” Jasper swore, staring at the money.
“It’s a message,” Bull said. “Those two weren’t running from the cartel. They were leading their boss to Rose, for a reward. Somehow—and I’m guessing they used a horse to get down the mountain to a phone—they got the word out about where they’d be. The cartel thugs showed up, learned what they needed to, handed over the reward, and then shot these two dead—as if to say that anybody who’d betray their own family would be just as likely to betray their bosses.”
“Damn it, we’ve got to find Rose,” Jasper said
Bull studied the death scene. “I’m guessing they were shot sometime late yesterday. That means the killers could be anywhere. Let’s go. We can call the sheriff when we get back to the ranch.”
Jasper took a quick look around the outside of the cabin. “Saddles are in the shed,” he said. “But there’s no sign of the horses. They must’ve spooked and run off. Never mind, let’s get going.”
Bull drove the hairpin road as fast as he dared, aware that a slip-off could delay his warning Rose—a delay that could be tragic. Rose was a fighter, but she’d have no chance against the people who were after her now.
Why had he let things go this far? He’d suspected that Raul and Joaquin were up to no good. Hell, Rose had even suspected them. They’d been like brothers to her; she’d said so herself. If he’d known they were here to betray her to the cartel, he would have shot them himself and buried their bodies, without a heartbeat of regret.
Beside him, Jasper was mumbling something he could barely hear. “What is it, Jasper?” He swung the truck around a sharp curve. “Speak up so I can hear you.”
“Ignore me,” Jasper said. “I haven’t prayed in a long time, but I’m praying now!”
* * *
“You can’t go home now, Rose.” Tanner swung the truck onto the asphalt road. “I’m taking you to the ranger post. You’ll be safe from the Cabreras there. Now that I can get a signal, I’ll radio Joe and have him call the Rimrock. They need to know what’s going on.”
“But what about the trailer—and my truck, and even the chickens? How can I just leave everything I own? Can’t we go back just long enough to get—”
“No, Rose!” It was the first time she’d heard anger in Tanner’s voice. “If those two Mexicans could find out where you live, so can the cartel. And you know even better than I do what they’re capable of. Now be still while I call in.”
Rose slumped in the seat while Tanner radioed his partner. In spite of the warm afternoon sun, she was shivering. Only one thing could have brought Refugio Cabrera to Texas. Joaquin and Raul had somehow contacted the cartel and let them know where to find her. She had been betrayed by men she had once loved as brothers.
What now? Tanner had gotten a detailed description of the vehicle and the men from Jacobsen. It would make sense to give it to the police and let them hunt the criminals down. But she knew that might not be enough. The men of the Cabrera cartel were expert at eluding the law. They would take care of the business they’d come for and disappear like morning fog, leaving scarcely a trace.
