The next morning, Cait flashed back on the parking lot incident and what Sam told her about the obituary, and then called Detective Rook. “There was an incident last night you should know about,” she said when he answered.
“At the house?”
“No, at school. Someone tried to run me over in the parking lot.”
“I didn’t get a message. Did you call it in?”
“No. Why bother? He was long gone. I didn’t get a plate number but it was a black pickup, maybe a Ford.”
“If this harassment continues, I’ll have to put you in protective custody.”
“Very funny.”
“We can only speculate at this point, Cait, you know that. But let’s assume it was Wally Dillon, Hank’s brother. The next time he might not miss, whether his choice of weapon is a car, a gun, or whatever. You should consider dropping out of class until he’s caught.”
Cait’s anger boiled in the pit of her stomach. “Not going to happen. I might go back to the school and explain why I need to carry a gun to class.”
“You can’t carry a gun within a hundred feet of a school.”
She sighed. “I know. What was I thinking? I’m going out to the ranch and spend the afternoon with Bo Tuck and his family. I need to get away from this house, the theaters, and . . . everything. You can call Marcus if you need anything.”
“Do they know what’s going on?”
“Of course. Well, except for last night. Everyone needs to know so they can protect themselves.” Then she remembered the obituary. “There’s something else.”
“What?”
“My obituary.”
“Your what?”
“It’s good to have friends in all the right places, Detective. Someone tried to put my obituary in the Columbus Dispatch. He couldn’t because he didn’t have authorization. That doesn’t mean he won’t try elsewhere.”
“Jesus! Did this friend of yours get a phone number?”
“Yes, and when she tried calling no one answered. It was a local call.”
“You mean Livermore?”
“That’s right, the same nine-two-five area code.”
“That’s two more reasons to increase your security. Have you talked with Detective Church?”
“Not today. I’ll call him.”
“You do that. In the meantime, I haven’t been on a horse in awhile. I could change into jeans and pick you up in twenty minutes.”
His pretense didn’t fool her. She didn’t want a bodyguard at the ranch, but she liked Rook and didn’t want to insult him. “You’re welcome to come along only if you promise not to tell Bo what’s going on. Their daughter Joy is exceptionally smart for a ten-year-old. She’d pick up immediately that there’s a problem.”
“You don’t think Bo deserves to know you’re being stalked? What if someone follows you to the ranch?”
She hesitated. Am I being selfish? The ranch is the only place I can go to relieve the tension I’m under.
“They’ve been through a lot with Tasha and Hilton’s death. I’d rather not burden them with my problems, but if the moment’s right, I’ll tell them. I’ll make sure I’m not being followed. Will that satisfy you?”
“Okay, but I better not hear you had a riding accident.”
Despite what she told Rook, Cait wasn’t going to the Bening ranch to ride. All she wanted was a little time away from the house, a nice visit with Bo and his family, and to see Hilton’s beautiful horse, Faro.
With a heavy heart, Cait checked the rearview mirror before turning onto Mines Road. The last thing she wanted was to bring trouble to the ranch, but the comfort and pleasure she always felt there outweighed any fear she might have of being hurt by Wally Dillon or whoever was stalking her. She had her Glock, and Bo had his rifle. If there was trouble, she was confident they could handle it.
It was a weekday and traffic was light, but she kept her eyes on the mirrors for a black pickup. She hadn’t gone far when she slowed and pulled onto a dirt road, where she soon encountered a flock of turkeys. She remembered RT telling her about Murrieta’s Well winery. Since it was on her way to the ranch, she decided to buy a bottle of wine to take to Bo. After a short distance, she exited from a clump of trees and saw a beautiful barn. Its exterior concrete exposed patches of creek stones in myriad colors. It was built into the hillside adjacent to the property’s well, where Joaquin Murrieta, the famous Gold Rush–era bandit, watered his band of wild mustangs.
Sun sparkled over the grapevines and shiny foil strips blowing in the breeze. Cait parked in front of the old stone building, stepped out of her Saab, and paused to admire the early California architecture. She turned her face up to the sun and inhaled the scent of roses mixed with the slightly dusty summer breeze.
As she mounted the staircase adorned with Mexican tiles and entered the high-ceilinged tasting room, she wondered if the Tucks preferred red or white wine.
The man behind the bar pointed to opened bottles. “Would you like to taste one of our wines?”
“Not today, thanks. But if you could suggest something for a gift, that would be helpful. I’m guessing a red, but I have no idea what their preference is.”
“Glad to.” He held up a bottle to show her. “Murrieta’s Well produces a great red, or if you prefer, Meritage, our white blend of bordeaux varietals, which has aromas of blackberry and blueberry with hints of well-integrated oak. Do you think your friends might enjoy something like that?”
Cait laughed, not being a wine connoisseur. “I’ve no idea, but I’ll take it.”
“Will there be anything else?”
“No, that will do.” She pulled out her credit card and handed it to him.
He glanced at the card, then at Cait. “Are you a club member?”
Confused, she asked, “Club?”
“Our wine enthusiasts.”
“Oh, no. Sorry.”
He rang up the sale and returned her card, along with the packaged bottle. “Hope your friends enjoy it.”
She smiled. “I’m sure they will. Thanks.”
Cait left the winery and continued out Mines Road for about three miles. When she reached the tall arch with BENING RANCH and a horse emblazoned in cast iron across the top, she pulled in and drove slowly to keep dust from rising on the dirt and gravel lane. Pristine white fencing lined the left side of the lane and eucalyptus trees the right. When she reached the red barn, she parked off to the side next to a dusty white trailer with a horse’s head decal on the side.
Cait stepped out of her car and gazed out over the ranch that had been Hilton’s until his death. The ranch wasn’t part of Cait’s inheritance; it was part of the Hilton family’s trust that couldn’t be sold. Hilton had left it to his veterinarian, Bo Tuck, to live in with his family as long as he wished.
Bo appeared from the side of the barn, dressed in jeans and a blue denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His black Stetson shielded his eyes from the sun, and his smile was broad. “Hey, stranger,” he said. “I thought you’d forgotten about us.”
“Never, Bo. How have you been?”
“Just dandy.” He walked over to her car. “Looks like you got yourself some new wheels.”
She grinned. “I’m not the Jaguar type. Marcus appreciated it more than I did, so I turned it over to him.”
“He told me.” He pushed his Stetson back. “Joy’s got a horse picked out for you when you’re ready to ride.”
“I don’t know, Bo. I’m a city gal. I’m here today to get away for awhile and to see you and your family. I don’t mean to interfere with your busy day, so I’ll just wander about and visit Faro, if that’s okay.” She reached in her car’s open door for the bottle of wine. “Brought you something.” She handed it to him.
He took it out of the sack and glanced at the label. “Ah. Murietta’s Well. I haven’t tried their Meritage. Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that. You know you’re welcome here any time.”
She nodded. “I know.” She’d come to love the Tucks, the quiet, and the peaceful wide-open spaces of the ranch. And Faro.
Bo draped his arm over her shoulder. “Something bothering you, Cait?”
Pulled back from her thoughts, she shook her head. “No. Just wondering why I waited so long to come.”
“Then let’s go on up to the house before the family tans my hide for keeping you to myself.”
They rounded the barn and crossed the footbridge over the dry creek bed. She loved the house Hilton built and how it backed up to a hill. It looked more like a small lodge, with its pencil-reed balcony across the front. “What a great place, Bo. You’re so lucky to live here.”
“Don’t think I don’t know it. Hilton was a generous man.” He held the screen door open for her.
The house, with the rustic feel of its interior—knotty pine tongue-and-groove floors, cathedral ceiling, and immense soot-blackened fireplace—was the warmest and most welcoming home she’d ever been in. The spectacular view of the hills and pasture through the tall windows filled Cait with a peacefulness she was missing at her own house. Not that the hilltop estate wasn’t lovely, but the constant threat of danger surrounding it made it difficult for her to relax and enjoy it.
“Cait, have a seat. I’ll get the family,” Bo said.
Cait preferred to walk around the cozy room. She went over to their upright piano to look at the photos of Joy straddling her horse’s back, jumping barriers, and accepting trophy ribbons before her accident.
A soft whooshing sound caught her attention. She turned and smiled as Joy rolled into the room. With her tousled smoky black hair and crackling deep-set violet eyes, she was a vision of beauty at ten years of age.
“Cait! You’re here!”
“I missed you, Joy.” She knelt in front of the girl. “How are you?”
“Super. You want to ride? I picked a horse gentle enough not to scare you.”
The time has come, Cait thought. She couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing Joy again. She liked horses, from a distance. She glanced up at Bo.
He shrugged. “Up to you.”
“What is?” Khandi, Bo’s wife, walked into the room. She wore her tight jeans with a soft pink low-cut T-shirt that accentuated her trim figure and soft cocoa complexion. Her long sable hair flowed down her back. She gave Cait a hug. “Are they ganging up on you already?”
Cait rose. “Yes, and I’m weakening.” Maybe, if I concentrate hard enough on staying on the horse, I’ll forget about the bad stuff going on in my life and have fun for a change.
Joy grinned from ear to ear. “You mean it? What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
Bo looked at Cait, his eyebrow raised. “Should we go see your horse?”
Cait nodded, glad she’d worn jeans. “What have I got to lose but my pride?”
“Yippee!” Joy shouted.
Bo pushed Joy’s wheelchair down the ramp and across the footbridge while Cait and Khandi talked about Faro.
As they approached the barn, Cait remembered her gun was in the car. “I need to get something from my car. I’ll catch up with you.”
“We’ll be out behind the barn,” Bo said. “Your horse is there.”
Oh, man, I hope I don’t embarrass myself too much. She opened the passenger door and reached into her shoulder bag. Before taking the gun out, she looked around to make sure she hadn’t been followed, then she backed out of the car and nestled the Glock at the small of her back. She pulled her red plaid shirt down to cover it, then reached back into her bag and grabbed a package of black licorice that Joy loved.
Cait met up with the Tucks and received a huge smile from Joy when she gave her the licorice. To delay the agony of climbing on a horse, she asked, “Can I see Faro first?”
“Sure,” Bo said. “He’s out this way.”
Behind the barn and Bo’s clinic, Cait admired the fenced fields, a small group of paddocks, and a couple of wooly llamas. A pair of golden retrievers barked and danced around Cait’s legs.
When she first met Faro, he wouldn’t venture close enough for her to see his silky bay color and sleek, long extended neck. The last time she was there, he came closer to the fence, as if he was beginning to trust her. Today, he stood at the railing as if expecting them, a compact horse with massive muscles and big liquid eyes bright with curiosity.
Bo slipped Cait a butter mint. When she offered it to the horse, it quickly disappeared.
“He’s beautiful,” she said.
“Yes he is. Hilton always had quarter horses on his ranch in Colorado. Said they could work cattle almost on their own.” He chuckled. “He liked to say they could turn on a dime and toss you back nine cents change. Ready to meet your horse?”
“Sure. Let’s do it,” she said.
“There she is.” Joy pointed to a small paddock where a lone horse gazed out at them.
The closer Cait got to the paddock, the larger the horse appeared. Nonetheless, she was determined to do this—to avoid appearing wimpy, but mostly to please Joy. Maybe she’d even like it. There weren’t many things she feared—two were tight places and animals bigger than she.
“Isn’t she beautiful, Cait?” Joy said.
Cait nodded. “Very. Big, too,” she said.
“She’s a paint horse,” Bo said. “A sweet, gentle mare, well trained, and great for the beginner or intermediate rider. She’s five years old.”
Cait eased closer to the fence, her eye on the horse with its large patches of brown and white. “What’s her name?”
“Peaches,” Joy said. “Don’t worry, Cait. She loves to be on the trail and takes care of her rider. And she loves attention.”
Bo opened the gate. “Ready?”
“I’ll get my saddle for Cait,” Khandi said.
Bo handed Cait a butter mint to offer the horse. It disappeared quickly.
Khandi returned carrying a brown leather saddle and tossed it onto Peaches’s back.
Bo secured the straps and stirrups. “Okay, Cait.” He helped her place her left foot in the stirrup and then told her to swing her right leg up and over the horse. “I’ll walk you over to the ring. When you’re feeling comfortable on the horse, we’ll take to the trail.”
“You’ll stay with me?” she asked, sitting rigid in the saddle.
“Yep. Right along beside you.” He handed her the reins and explained what to do to get the horse moving and how to stop her. “Nice and easy.”
Cait glanced over at Joy, who stuck a piece of licorice in her mouth and flashed her a thumbs up. She relaxed and was surprised to learn she enjoyed being on the horse. After several turns around the ring, she was brave enough to break into a trot.
Joy and Khandi applauded from the sideline. “Ready to try the trail?” Bo asked.
“I guess so.”
He motioned Khandi over. “Wait with Cait while I get my horse.”
“Looking good up there, Cait,” Khandi said. “How does it feel?”
“Surprisingly comfortable. I might even learn to like this.”
“Peaches is a nice horse. No bad habits or vices.”
Cait heard commotion from the barn and turned to see Bo trotting toward her on a familiar black horse.
Bo reined his horse close to Cait. “Remember Cash from the last time you were here?”
“I sure do. He’s beautiful,” she said. “Not quite as scary looking as when I first saw him.”
Bo laughed. “That’s because you were clinging to the fence; now we’re sitting even. Ready?”
Khandi backed away. “Relax and have fun, Cait.”
Bo stayed beside Cait as they left the ring. “Just do what you were doing in the ring and you’ll be fine. We’ll pick up the trail behind the house.”
Cait trotted along with Bo, feeling more excited than scared. What would RT think if he saw me now?
“Doing okay?” Bo asked.
Cait slipped her sunglasses down from the top of her head to shield her eyes from the intense sun. “This is fun. Thank you for giving me this opportunity to ride.”
He smiled. “My pleasure.”
They crossed the bridge over the creek and went around the right side of the house. Cait kept her eyes straight ahead, her hands tight on the reins.
Bo pointed. “That wooded area ahead is where the trail begins.”
The dogs followed but dropped behind as they approached the trail.
They rode slowly and aimlessly along the narrow trail that led through the middle of a large dense growth of trees.
Cait grew anxious. The farther they rode, the more the trail looked familiar. “Bo, isn’t this where Hilton fell?”
He looked at her and nodded. “Yes. I wondered if you’d remember.”
She sat up higher in the seat and looked around, as if expecting someone to charge them from the trees.
They sat side by side on their horses for a few minutes, remembering Hilton. Bo spoke first. “Something you should see up ahead.”
As they rode, the horses kicked up dust on the trail. Bo pulled his horse to a stop and jumped down.
As Bo helped Cait down, her foot caught in the stirrup and she began to fall. Her shirt rode above her waist, her gun in full view.
Bo frowned. “Why are you carrying a gun?”
She froze for a second, embarrassed. “I promised Detective Rook I would bring it with me.” She sighed and looked off into the trees. “I didn’t mean to involve you and your family, Bo, but someone’s stalking me.”
He kicked the dirt with the toe of his boot. “Well, damn, Cait. Any idea who it is?”
“Maybe. It goes back a couple of years when I was a cop. Bo, I was careful coming out here. I made sure no one followed me. Can we leave it at that? At least for now?”
He removed his Stetson and slapped it against his leg. “Can’t do that. You’re like family. But first, come over here. I want to show you something.” He directed her to one side of the trail and stooped in front of a large rock at the base of an old oak tree barren of leaves. “This is why I brought you here.”
At first, Cait thought it was just a rock with a little moss, but when she looked closer she saw engraving on it and realized what she was looking at. She kneeled beside Bo, suddenly overcome with emotion for a man she’d only heard about. “How lovely, a memorial for Hilton,” she said softly.
“Yes. Joy asked us to place a marker where Hilton fell. She wanted a rock engraved with a cowboy hat, his initials, and the date he died.” He looked at Cait and smiled. “She got her wish.”
“Your daughter is uncannily wise for her age.” She ran her finger over the engraving and wondered if Tasha had done the same thing, but hesitated to ask.
“He was like a grandfather to Joy,” he said as he stood.
Cait rose. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
He put his hat on. “You’re welcome. Let’s head on back. You can tell me why you’re being stalked and what I can do to help.”
Khandi and Joy were waiting at the barn. Bo helped Cait down and then took the horses inside the barn.
“Peaches is a fine horse,” Cait told Joy.
Joy grinned. “Did Daddy show you Hilton’s rock?”
“He did. That was the perfect thing to do.”
“I’m glad you like it. Sometimes Daddy takes me with him on his horse to visit Hilton’s memorial.”
“And sometimes we all ride out with a picnic basket,” Khandi said.
Joy reached up and took hold of Cait’s hand. “I’m glad you got to ride Peaches and see the rock.”
Cait squeezed her hand and smiled. “Me, too.”
“Riding makes me happy,” Joy said. She tipped her head up at Cait. “I don’t think the ride made you happy.”
Cait stooped in front of Joy. “Why would you think that?”
“I think you’re worried. Is it something you can fix?”
Cait felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up and saw Bo.
She kissed Joy’s cheek. “I’m sure going to try.”
Or die trying.