Betrayal in the Badlands

Sweat poured down his face in spite of the cool. He shouted to her frequently, keeping her talking, warding off shock, or so he hoped, and giving him a direction.

Finally his feet touched bottom and he unfastened himself from the ropes. He switched on a flashlight and made his way quickly to her.

Her face was pale in the dim light, coated with grime. From what he could see, her pupils were even and reactive when he flicked the light across her field of vision. He knelt next to her and felt her wrist. “Hey there. This is a crazy way to explore the property.”

She didn’t smile. “I was after Big Blue, and someone pushed me.”

He could feel the pulse in her wrist begin to race. It was not the time to get into that. “Let’s focus on getting you out of here. I’m going to give you a quick check, with your permission.”

She nodded, lying still as he ran his hands along her arms and legs. He gently slid his fingers along the back of her neck. “Any pain? Numbness? Tingling?”

“No. Are you a doctor?”

“I’m a little of everything.” He pulled out a pry bar from his backpack and circled around behind the rock. “When you feel the rock move, pull your ankle free. Can you do that?”

“To get out of here I could do anything.”

He chuckled and leaned his weight on the pry bar. It shifted, but not enough. He added more force behind it until his muscles screamed at the effort. Finally the rock slid just enough that Isabel pulled clear.

He scrambled around the rock and found her crouched over her ankle, fighting against the pain.

“One obstacle down. How about we see to that ankle now?” It was swollen and bruised, but not misshapen. A good sign. “Could be you got out of this with a bad sprain.” He wrapped the joint as gently as he could with a bandage and activated a chemical cold pack to sandwich between the layers of bandages.

She was sitting up now, eyeing him with an expression he couldn’t decipher. “Logan, did you…hear singing up there?”

He shot her a look, checking to see if she was slipping into shock. “No, ma’am. Must have been the wind.”

“I guess so. I got really mixed up when I fell. I don’t even know how long I’ve been down here.” She watched him finish the bandaging. “You seem like you do this kind of thing every day.”

He felt the dull twinge of pain. “I used to. You ready to get out of here?”

She nodded and he helped her to stand on her good ankle. Then he refastened himself to the rope. “Can you carry the backpack?”

When she nodded, Logan slid the straps onto her shoulders and began to fasten a webbed belt around her waist before he pulled her tight to his back. He felt her stiffen when her chest touched his shoulders.

“What are you doing?”

Her breath was warm on his neck. “I’m getting us out of here. I’ll do the climbing, and you hold on. Deal?” Without waiting for an answer he began hauling them up out of the ravine, Isabel holding him around the waist, her head pressed to his shoulder.

She didn’t make a whimper of complaint as they climbed, even when he could not avoid banging into the jagged rocks. Her repaired ankle throbbed, and her dead weight on his back made the going rough.

It didn’t matter.

It could have been two hundred feet or two hundred miles.

He would finish the mission.

Gritting his teeth he pulled them along, hand over hand, until they reached the top of the ravine. With a whine of joy, Tank grabbed hold of Logan’s sleeve and yanked for all he was worth.

Logan hauled them both over the top, unstrapped Isabel from his back and helped her to sit. Tank darted from Logan to Isabel, licking them both.

“This is Tank.”

She smiled and rubbed him under the chin. “Good name.”

“Good dog.”

The sky had lightened from black to gray to pearl as the sun pushed its way toward the horizon. They sat in silence for a while, Logan trying to catch his breath and Isabel staring at him.

He gave himself a few more moments to recover and then got to his feet. “We need to get you inside. How about another piggyback ride?”

She shook her head. “I can walk.”

“You’ll damage your ankle further.”

Her eyes shifted and she chewed her lower lip. “I can’t let you carry me anymore. You’ve got to be exhausted after that climb. I’ll hop on one foot, if you can steady me.”

He put on the backpack and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She clung to him to keep from falling. As they struggled for balance, Logan glanced down at the wet earth near the edge of the crevice they had just emerged from.

Isabel followed his gaze. “What is it?”

He shrugged and moved them in the direction of the cabin. “Later.”

With Tank at their heels, they set off.

It was only a half mile back, but it took them almost a half hour to hobble along. Finally they pushed through the door, and Logan deposited Isabel on the small couch in the front room, where Tank promptly curled up in an untidy pile at her feet.

Logan fetched some ice from the freezer, wrapped it in a dish towel and laid it on her ankle.

“I’ll drive you to town for an X-ray.”

“No. It’s just a sprain. I don’t need an X-ray.”

“Yes, you do.”

She pressed her lips together. “No.”

He sighed. “Are you always this stubborn?”

There was a glimmer of a smile on her face. “I’m afraid so.” She fiddled with the edge of the blanket he’d draped over her shoulders. “I—I want to thank you. You don’t even know me, but you came over here in the middle of the night and hauled me out of that hole. I still can’t believe it happened.”

He looked directly into her ink-dark eyes. “I can.”

She blinked. “You believe me? That I was pushed? Why?”

He chose his words carefully. “Because there was a set of footprints in the mud at the edge of the ravine, someone wearing cowboy boots.”

“Could they be your prints?”

He shook his head and pointed to his feet. “I’m in mountain climbers. Whoever made those prints stood right at the edge, and watched you fall.”

Isabel stroked the dog as she drank the instant coffee Logan prepared for them both, trying to calm herself. It was almost 7:00 a.m. by now. She wasn’t sure what to say to the man who had gone to such trouble and physical torture on her account. She could tell by the far-off look in his eyes that he was trying to make sense of the past few hours, too. She felt a familiar trembling and tried to get up.

Logan laid a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Stay put. Whatever you need, I’ll get it.”

“I—I need something with sugar.”

He eyed her closely. “Diabetes?”

“Hypoglycemia. I haven’t eaten regularly since I came.”

He went to the kitchen and returned with a handful of Oreos for her and one for himself. “So what made you come to the ranch?”

“Cassie loved her horses. I wanted to make sure things were taken care of, until the property can be sold.”

His eyes bored into hers. “You don’t want to live here?”

She shrugged. “It isn’t my property. I figure Cassie probably left it to my uncle, and I don’t really have fond memories of South Dakota anyway.”

“Been here before?”

“Yes,” she said grimly.

Logan didn’t question further. “Okay. Change of subject. Let’s talk about who would want to shove you over the edge of a ravine. Did you upset anyone recently?”

Upset anyone? One person sprang to her mind immediately, a certain ex-husband who was still languishing in jail, thanks to her. She looked at her hands.

Logan folded his arms, his voice low and serious. “You don’t have to talk to me about it, but the cops are going to ask you the same thing, so you might want to have an answer ready for them.”

She started. “The cops?”

He leaned forward. “If someone just tried to kill you. You need to file a police report.”

The thought of facing the barrage of personal questions that was sure to follow made her stomach turn. “Maybe it was some crazy person and he’s moved on.”

“You and I both know that’s improbable.” He hesitated before he finished. “Whatever happened might be related to your sister’s accident.”

Isabel’s mouth fell open. “You think there’s something strange about my sister’s death, too?”

He held up his hands. “I didn’t say that. It just occurred to me that Blue Boy could have been spooked by a stranger on the property the night he threw Cassie.”

“My sister grew up around horses. She wouldn’t have been thrown easily.”

“I agree with you, and I’ve thought about that quite a bit. She managed Blue Boy, and he’s a handful. It never made sense to me why your sister took off riding at night.”

Though she was relieved to have someone else voice her suspicions, the idea of bringing it all up to law enforcement fanned the anxiety in her gut. There was no other choice. If she wanted the police to look more closely at Cassie’s death, she needed to tell them what had happened. “I guess I’ll talk to the cops.”

He put down his coffee mug. “I’ll drive you to town right now.”

“You don’t need to drive me. I can…”

He pointed to her ankle. “I’ll drive.”

Before she could fire off a retort, Tank got to his feet and barked, pressing his wide face to the window. Logan pulled back the curtain. “Well, there’s one bit of good news, anyway.”

Isabel hopped over as Logan opened the front door.

A stocky man in jeans and a flannel shirt was dismounting Blue Boy. Two other people on horseback hopped down from their saddles, too.

Isabel couldn’t suppress a cry of joy at the sight of the horse. “Blue Boy. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

The stocky man shrugged. Isabel guessed him to be somewhere in his midthirties.

“Found him running loose on our property. I know he’s Miss Cassie’s horse.” He extended a hand. “I’m John Trigg.”

“Isabel Ling. My sister mentioned that you worked for her.”

He tipped his cowboy hat. “Yes, ma’am.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve been taking care of things. I figured if Cassie had any family they would more than likely sell the property.”

Isabel didn’t miss the hint of petulance in his words. Instead of answering, she smiled at the other two people. A heavy-set man with a florid face stroked his mustache and stepped up onto the porch. “Hello, Ms. Ling. I’m Carl Trigg, John’s father.”

“And the mayor.” Isabel shook his hand. She smelled a trace of whiskey on his breath. “My sister told me you helped her a number of times. You own the adjoining property.”

He chuckled. “Sure do. It’s been our oasis from the political storm for years. Nothing like being out in nowhere to make you remember what’s important. This is my wife, Sheila.”

A blonde lady with shoulder-length hair extended a hand and clasped Isabel’s palm in hers. “Pleased to meet you. We were so fond of your sister.” Her eyes shifted to Isabel’s foot. “What happened? Have you had an accident?” She turned to Logan. “And this handsome soldier came to your rescue, I suppose?”

Soldier? That might explain Logan’s arsenal of rescue skills. Isabel invited them in, and the mayor and his wife settled next to her on the couch. Logan leaned against the door. John excused himself to return Blue Boy to the barn.

Mayor Trigg cleared his throat. “So tell us what happened, young lady.”

Isabel gave them a quick overview.

Mr. and Mrs. Trigg’s eyes grew increasingly wider until the mayor leaned forward.

“Somebody pushed you? Who would do that?”

Sheila frowned. “And why?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “That’s the question of the day. I’m going to drive to town so Isabel can talk it all out with the police.”

The mayor nodded thoughtfully. “Absolutely. Mountain Cloud is a pretty quiet town and we like to keep it that way. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Sheila caught Isabel by the arm. “I’m going to have John bring over some supper later. You shouldn’t be standing in the kitchen with a bum foot.”

“Oh, please don’t go to any trouble. I’ll be fine.”

Sheila laughed. “It’s not trouble, it’s being neighborly. That’s what people do here.” She pulled a card from her purse. “And here’s Carl’s business card. He never remembers to hand them out himself, even now that he’s running for the Senate.” She took a pen from her small waist pack and scribbled on the back. “Our home phone and my cell number, just in case you need it. We’re about a half hour east of here as the crow flies, but the road is twisty and steep.”

The overflow of concern made Isabel flush. She’d tried and succeeded at keeping to herself since her disastrous marriage had ended a decade earlier. Ten years of hiding in shame. It felt strange to be thrust into the middle of a community that returned lost horses and made dinners for others. She took the card and thanked them again.

When the rattle of hoofbeats died away, Logan helped Isabel to his truck. He stopped Tank from careening into her lap.

“Hey, buddy. You’re riding in the back this time.”

Logan started the engine and they drove off the property. As they did so, Isabel caught a glimpse of John closing the corral gate. The hostility on his face was clear in the look he gave them.

Cassie may have trusted the man, but something in his look told her to be careful.

Very careful.

THREE

Logan eyed Isabel as she sat on the hard-backed chair at the tiny police station, waiting to talk to an officer. When her turn came, he gave her a reassuring nod. “I’ve got to pick up an order. Tank and I will meet you back at the truck when you’re done. You okay to walk?”

She nodded. “Yes, my ankle’s better. I think the swelling’s gone down.”

He felt reluctant to leave, but he forced himself out of the building. Tank fell into step next to him. Logan could not shake the instinct that told him something was wrong. The watcher in the trees? His own unease when he’d started working on Cassie’s ranch?

Maybe, just maybe, it was the result of being close to a lovely woman again. Could a woman still have the power to unsettle him? As he quickened his pace toward the print shop, he felt the familiar pain build to a wall inside, stoked by the thought of how gullible he’d been, how stupid. It was as if he could hear Nancy’s revelation about the baby word for word in his mind. The baby that wasn’t his. The marriage that had never been enough. The world tilted in that moment, throwing off his equilibrium. He’d stumbled through months, years, after that, never quite recovering his balance. He ignored the pain in his ankle, aggravated by his effort to help Isabel, and moved quicker down the hot sidewalk, Tank panting behind him.

He wondered what the police would make of Isabel’s story. Stay out of it. She can fight her own battles.

Carl Trigg pulled to the curb and got out of his truck. “Logan. How’s Isabel? Thought I’d better come and check on things. Still can’t believe someone would have pushed her.” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you think that’s what happened?”

“I thought she might have imagined it at first, but there were fresh footprints on the edge that didn’t match mine or hers.”

The mayor’s brow crinkled and he let out a sigh. “I’ll make sure it’s investigated fully. We can’t have this sort of thing going on.” He hooked a thumb in the pocket of his pants. “Sheila wanted me to talk to you about a job. Gonna put up some fences, but the ground needs to be cleared first. Your schedule open?”

Logan’s face warmed. “Your son could do that job fine, Carl. You don’t need to pay me to do it.”

Trigg waved a hand. “John wants to spend every waking moment in the stables. No time for fences. We’re indulging him until he puts that law degree into practice. Got distracted by Cassie Reynolds and her horses.”

“How’s he taking it? Cassie’s death.”

“Oh, well, he was sad, of course. He respected her and they shared a common passion for horses, but that was about it. We’re all saddened about that girl’s accident. Sheila’s even decided to help Isabel plan a nice memorial service, if she wants. We want to help, you know. Speaking of help, we’ve got business with you. How about that fence project?”

Logan cleared his throat. “Look. I know you and Sheila are trying to help me make a success of this business, but you’ve done enough by loaning me the start-up money. I’m going to get this thing on its feet and pay you back.”

He smiled. “Sounds like you’re on a mission. Okay, I’ll tell Sheila, but she won’t be happy.”

Logan returned the smile. “Tell her I’ll stop by next time she makes one of her berry pies.”

“I’ll do that.” Carl waved and got back in the truck.

Logan hurried toward the shop to pick up the promotional flyers he’d ordered. If he didn’t start booking some jobs soon, he would be hard-pressed to live up to his words and all the flyers in the state wouldn’t make a difference. The knowledge that the mayor and his wife were offering charity work to tide him over left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Saving the business should have been the only thing on his mind, but he couldn’t resist a quick look back at the police station.

When Isabel was finally ushered back to meet Officer Bentley, she felt only uncertainty deep in the pit of her stomach. After a deep breath, she settled herself into a chair across from the whip-thin officer and took the offensive. “Hello, Officer Bentley. We spoke on the phone when you called to notify me about my sister.”

His dark eyes showed no expression. “I remember. A bad call to have to make.”

“Yes. I know you think Cassie’s death was an accident.” She sucked in a deep breath. “Maybe after you hear what happened to me last night, you’ll think differently.”

He listened, pencil poised, while she related the bizarre episode. After a long look, he put the pencil down. “Ms. Ling, are you sure someone pushed you? Isn’t it possible you stumbled and fell? In the dark, and on that property, it would be easy to do.”

Her cheeks warmed. “I didn’t fall. Someone shoved me and maybe that person had something to do with Cassie’s accident, too. There are footprints there. Whoever did it wore cowboy boots.”

He sighed so deeply the breath fluttered the corners of his mustache. Isabel could see threads of silver in his hair. “You can’t throw a stick around here without hitting someone wearing cowboy boots. I’ll be happy to ride up there and check it out, if that would ease your mind.”

“But you don’t believe me?”

“People experience grief differently. Sometimes it’s easier to imagine there’s someone or something to blame. Your sister was thrown from a horse. If you want to affix blame, you can pin it on Blue Boy. Some of those horses your sister rescued had been beaten, hurt bad. You never can really heal an animal like that.”

She willed her voice not to crack. “I’m just presenting facts to you, Officer Bentley. Please listen to me.”

He sat back in his chair, the lights accentuating the creases in his forehead. “All right. Let’s say you were pushed. My next question is, who do you know that would like to see you at the bottom of a ravine?”

Isabel swallowed hard. “I—I have an ex-husband named Rawley Pike who believes I wronged him, but he’s in prison in Orange County.”

The officer’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ll check on that. Can you tell me the date he was incarcerated?”

She drew in a breath. “August fifth, ten years ago.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And the crime?”

“Dealing drugs. Cocaine and heroin. And he killed a man during a deal that went bad.”

“You turned him in?”

Her skin prickled all over. “Yes, I turned him in.”

“I’ll check on his status.”

And that means he’ll find out everything about you, too. She nodded weakly. “The footprints?”

“As I said, I’ll take a look and if there’s something there, we’ll talk about it more. Right now, I’ve got a meeting.”

He rose and led Isabel to the door.

She wandered out into the blaze of late-morning sun, her stomach still churning. He didn’t believe her and, what was worse, he was now going to look up her whole sordid past. Logan had not returned to the truck. A sign on the building next door revealed it to be the office of Dr. Lunardi, the person who had examined Cassie and pronounced her dead. He’d also helped Isabel make long-distance burial arrangements.

Isabel walked gingerly to the small building. A white-haired receptionist looked up from her keyboard. “May I help you, honey? Did you need to see the doctor?”

She felt suddenly flustered. Why had she come in? Her face flushed and she fought the desire to run out the door again. “Er, yes. I think I sprained my ankle. Could Dr. Lunardi take a look?”

The lady consulted the computer screen. “He’s got a few minutes. Come on back.”

She led Isabel to an examining room and went to fetch the doctor. A short while later Dr. Lunardi appeared, a small man with the dome of his head shining and smooth and a fringe of neatly trimmed black hair in a semicircle around his scalp.

“Hello, Dr. Lunardi. I’m Cassie Reynolds’s sister. You were so kind to help me make arrangements for her.”

He dropped his pen and bent to pick it up. “Ms. Ling. I didn’t realize you were her sister, with the different last names.”

“I took my mother’s maiden name.”

He fiddled with some papers on a clipboard. “Should have seen the resemblance. I was happy to help you with your sister. I can point you to the right people to plan a memorial service, too, if you wish.”

“I would like that very much.”

“Wanda says you’ve had a tumble. May I take a look?” He busied himself prodding her ankle.

“Dr. Lunardi, I wondered if you could tell me about Cassie, when they brought her in. John Trigg found her, didn’t he?”

The doctor nodded, but didn’t look up. “Yes, John called the rescue squad and they transported her here because…” He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m sorry to say it, Ms. Ling, but there was no hope of resuscitation. I pronounced her dead.”

“From the head trauma?”

“Yes.”

Isabel turned the thought over in her mind. “Was there anything unusual about it? Anything that struck you as odd about my sister’s injuries?”

“What?” He blinked. “No, not unusual. Why would you ask such a thing?”

Isabel sighed. “I wondered if there was something that I don’t know about.”

He stiffened. “Your sister was thrown by a horse and died of head injuries sustained in that process. That’s all there is.” He pointed to her ankle. “It doesn’t appear to be broken or fractured. Continue to ice and keep the Ace bandage on to help you get along until the bruising heals. If it’s not better in a few days, come back. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients. No charge for the visit today. Welcome to town, Ms. Ling.”

He hurried out of the room.

She rewrapped her ankle with the bandage and left the exam room. Wanda was not at her station and there was no sign of the doctor. The heat enveloped her immediately as she left the air-conditioning behind. Across the street, a cool spot of wooded green beckoned her. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face it, but she knew she had to try.

Heart pounding, she made her way to the cemetery.

Cassie was buried here, the arrangements made long-distance as Isabel had struggled to scrape up enough money to fly here to South Dakota. Somehow she would have to come up with the cash to pay the bills when her credit card came due and to plan a beautiful memorial service for her sister.

There would be flowers and sweet music and someone to sing the old hymns like their mother had done when they were children.

Tears pricked her eyes as she entered the cemetery. Trees shrouded it from the road and the quiet was broken only by the twitter of birds. The headstones were well tended, the grass trimmed and many were dotted with small tokens or flowers from loved ones. Isabel walked slowly until she found her sister’s grave.