Part 17 (1/2)
She blinked in surprise. ”I had no idea-”
He nodded as if he suspected she didn't.
”You have to go after them and stop them,” she said with a fierceness that surprised her.
It must have surprised him, too. He smiled. ”The only thing I have to do is get you to the ranch where you will be safe.”
”But if they have your property-” She saw by his expression that he feared whoever had stolen the cattle wanted more than the cattle and ultimately the money. ”If I wasn't with you, you'd go after them, wouldn't you.”
He laughed softly. ”Probably and it would be the stupidest thing I could do. I don't even know how many of them there are. I'd probably get myself killed.”
She doubted that. J. T. McCall was a man who could take care of himself.
”Come on.” He spurred his horse and started back the way they'd come, then cut through the trees away from the trail where the cattle had gone.
Her horse followed without her having to do anything and she was grateful. Her ankle ached and she felt chilled from earlier. She stared at McCall's broad back, thankful that he was with her. Another man might have abandoned her to go after his cattle. Actually, most men she'd known. A half million was a lot of money. She doubted McCall could spare it and she feared she was at least partly responsible for its loss. If he hadn't had to take care of her...
The rocking motion of the horse put her to sleep.
She woke with a start, almost falling off the horse. McCall had stopped. She stared into the pines, surprised how dark it had gotten.
Her rump hurt from the saddle and her ankle felt as if it were ten sizes larger than normal, the boot too tight now and cutting into her flesh. She was tired and hungry, thirsty and her hair stunk of smoke, reminding her of the fire, her skin grimy.
But none of that mattered in an instant as she watched McCall motion for her to keep silent as he dismounted and, raising the rifle, disappeared into the pines.
J.T. HAD BEEN following a trail through the snow for the last quarter mile. Now he caught a whiff of campfire smoke on the breeze. A moment later, he heard a horse whinny ahead of him.
He moved silently through the fallen snow with the rifle ready, stopping behind one of the pine trees to listen. A horse whinnied just beyond a small clearing.
The moment he stepped around the wide branches of the pine tree, he saw a figure crouched over a small fire in a heavy coat with a hood, a coat he didn't recognize.
J.T. edged silently up behind the man. Snowflakes danced in the air drifting restlessly on a slight breeze. The ground around the fire was dark with footprints but beyond it everything was covered in a blanket of icy white.
He pressed the barrel of the rifle to the back of the man's head. ”Move and I will kill you.”
The man froze.
Slowly, J.T. stepped to the side until he could see the man's face.
”Take it easy,” Will Jarvis said. ”This isn't what you think.”
”You know what I'm thinking?” J.T. asked, s.h.i.+fting the rifle barrel to aim it at Will's chest, his finger on the trigger.
”I'm FBI,” Will said his voice sounding a little strained. ”You probably don't remember me but I was on the case nine years ago.”
J.T. couldn't hide his surprise. Something about the man had been familiar, something that reminded him of the horror of that unforgettable cattle roundup. He couldn't remember any of the FBI agents, who'd been called in because of a federal warrant on one of the men, Leroy Johnson.
He didn't remember Will Jarvis, but that didn't really mean anything given the condition he'd been in after what had happened nine years ago. ”You have some sort of ID?” He kept the rifle on him.
”If you'll let me reach into my coat pocket,” Will said.
”I can pull the trigger on this rifle before you can pull a gun,” J.T. warned.
”I'm no fool.” He reached slowly into his coat pocket and brought out his identification. He flipped it open. FBI. William Robert Jarvis. Special agent.
”So it was your gun I found hidden in the tent.”
Jarvis smiled. ”We all know agents don't carry a 9 mm, but yes, it was one of several I had hidden around the camp. I like to have back ups, plus this.” He pulled out a knife and met J.T.'s gaze. ”As I recall, this was Claude Ryan's weapon of choice.”
J.T. shuddered at the memory and lowered the rifle as Jarvis slid the knife back into a sheath under his pant leg. ”What the h.e.l.l is going on?” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Reggie waiting in the darkness of the pines, watching. She had the pistol in her hands, her gaze on Jarvis's back.
”I think you know what's going on,” Will said. ”Someone's been killing off your cowhands, getting rid of them one by one. I would imagine your cattle are gone as well.” He nodded, seeing that none of that was news to J.T. ”I can tell you don't want to believe who's behind it. You don't even like saying his name, do you?”
”Claude Ryan is dead.”
”Is he?” Will said and chuckled.
J.T. stared at Jarvis, surprised how much he wanted it to be true. ”Are you telling me he's not?”
The FBI agent shrugged. ”Someone from that cattle roundup is alive. He's left a trail of dead plastic surgeons across Mexico. I followed that trail to your cow camp.” from that cattle roundup is alive. He's left a trail of dead plastic surgeons across Mexico. I followed that trail to your cow camp.”
J.T. was shaking his head. ”A grizzly got Claude.”
”Something got him all right,” Will said. ”I would imagine it was one of his gang.”
”The other two were dead inside the cabin.”
Jarvis smiled. ”You think it was just the three of them in it together?” He shook his head. ”There were five of them, maybe more. The ones I know about are Claude Ryan, Leroy Johnson, Billy Joe Brady, Slim Walker and Luke Adams.”
J.T. had known the last two names were coming as sure as sunrise. ”You're telling me that Claude killed Luke and Slim.”
”I didn't know they were dead for sure, but I figured he'd get them,” Will said. ”Even though Slim risked his life to save Claude-got his hands burned-Claude considered them both traitors because they didn't kill you when they had the chance.”
J.T. looked to the pines where he'd left Reggie. ”How do you know all this?”
”Some of it I've figured out over the past nine years. That first night in camp I heard Luke leave the tent. Him and Slim. I followed them, overheard them talking about Claude, both scared.”
J.T. studied Will, having trouble believing what he was hearing and not sure why. ”Why would Slim and Luke agree to work for me after what happened up here?”
”I suspect Claude was behind it somehow. I heard Luke say he knew they shouldn't have come back up into the Bighorns. Said it wasn't worth what they were being paid. Don't think they were talking about cowhand wages, do you?”
”No,” J.T. said and looked over at Reggie.