Texas Ranger, Runaway Heiress. Carol Finch
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“What in God’s name happened here? And who are you?”
Hud glanced over his shoulder to see Eaton Powell II—or so he presumed, since he was decked out in the very latest fashion—puffed up like a toad. The snooty politician was glaring disdainfully at him.
“What have you done with my fiancée?” he demanded loudly.
“I haven’t done anything with her,” Hud replied. “I came to fetch her for the journey and this is how I found her room.”
Eaton looked down his patrician nose and struck a superior pose. “I will ask you again. Who are you?”
“Captain Hudson Stone. I’m the Ranger sent to escort you and your fiancée to Commander Price.”
Eaton looked him up and down then snorted insultingly. “If you represent the inadequacy of our state law enforcement on the frontier then I shall be sure to tighten regulations and qualifications when I am elected to the senate.”
The cocky dandy shouldered past Hud to survey the ransacked room. “My God! It looks as if there was a struggle. Someone must have realized who Gabrielle was and abducted her for money or for something even more sinister.”
He whirled around to stab an accusing finger into Hud’s chest. “This is your fault! My fiancée has vanished and I hold you personally accountable. Furthermore, I shall see you dishonorably discharged from your battalion!”
Eaton’s voice rose to a roar. Hud glanced sideways to see several tousled heads poke around partially opened doors.
“Hey, keep the noise down.” The man with bloodshot eyes, who had rented the room directly across the hall, glared at him. “Some of us are trying to sleep.”
Hud approached him immediately. “The woman in this room has been abducted. Did you see anything?”
The man shook his disheveled gray head. “No, I didn’t come upstairs until nearly two o’clock. Hell, I don’t even remember how I got here from the saloon.”
Judging by the man’s puffy face and red-streaked eyes, he was indeed sporting a hellish hangover.
“What about you, sir?” Hud asked, glancing at the scrawny little gent who had rented the room next door to Bri’s.
The gent bobbed his bald head. “I heard something crash to the floor and I heard a man’s voice late last night. But I didn’t even know a woman had rented the room. I wasn’t about to get involved with a ruffian. I mind my own business and I’m only here to catch the stage to Dodge City this afternoon.”
After questioning the six men in nearby rooms, he didn’t come up with one useful clue. Hud swore under his breath and cursed the disaster that had greeted him this morning. To make matters worse, Eaton was breathing down his neck, blaming Hud for whatever had happened to his beloved fiancée.
“I’ll find her,” Hud assured Eaton, who persisted in snapping and growling at his heels like an ill-tempered dog.
“Don’t bother,” Eaton snarled hatefully. “I’ll hire my own posse to pose questions and turn this town upside down.”
With an audience of the six men, who were still craning their necks around the hotel room doors, Eaton flung his arms ceilingward and burst out with, “Dear God! I can only begin to imagine the horrors my frightened fiancée must be enduring…if she’s still alive.” He glared at Hud. “No thanks to you, Ranger Stone.”
Wheeling around, Eaton pelted down the hall. He ranted about how he had come to Fort Griffin and The Flat to campaign for public office and how calamity had struck. He bewailed the abduction of his fiancée long and loudly.
Hud cursed the unexpected turn of events as he watched the hotel patrons close and lock their doors. To his further frustration, he couldn’t find one promising lead as to who might have overpowered Gabrielle Price and abducted her in the middle of the night.
A sense of urgency hounded Hud as he descended the fire escape to survey the horse tracks in the dirt. There were three sets, which didn’t coincide with what the man who rented the room next door to Bri had said about hearing one male voice. The kidnapper must have pounced on Bri and she had tried to put up a fight but she hadn’t escaped. No doubt, her captor had dragged her down the back stairs while the other man waited with their mounts. They must have tied her to the spare horse then rode off to who knew where.
Hud squatted on his haunches to take a closer look at the hoofprints. One mount had a chipped front hoof and its back left horseshoe had worn thin. One set of prints indicated a well-tended horse—a stolen one perhaps. The third set of prints was similar to the first—worn shoes that indicated a lack of care.
Following the prints, Hud ended up in a side alley where two horses veered east. He frowned, unsure what had happened to the third horse. Before he could survey the area closely, he heard a commotion in the street. He strode to the boardwalk then scowled at Eaton, who was waving his arms in expansive gestures and calling for the attention of everyone on the street.
“My fiancée has been kidnapped,” he bugled loudly. “I’m offering a reward to anyone who has information that will bring Gabrielle safely back to me. I’ll also pay any man who will join a posse to search for her.” He spun about to shake his fist in the air. “If I am elected to the senate I vow to provide better law enforcement in this town, this state and our nation! There are too many muggings and murderers on these streets. And now this!” His voice broke as he blubbered, “May God help my poor fiancée!”
Hud rolled his eyes when several women rushed forward to console Eaton. The dandy was a mite too melodramatic for Hud’s tastes. However, it was possible that Eaton might have been hopelessly besotted with Bri and was overcome with fear and concern. Given her beauty, wealth and social prestige, Hud predicted Eaton was eager to reap all the benefits of marrying the commander’s daughter.
While Eaton strode toward the newspaper office to have the story of the incident written up, Hud reversed direction to search for more clues.
“Bad publicity. That’s all we need around here. A dignitary’s daughter and a politician’s fiancée abducted from her room in the middle of the night. Damn, I hope she’s okay.”
Hud lurched around to see Sparrow scurrying toward him. The expression on the marshal’s weathered features testified to his concern for the missing woman.
“Any idea who might have taken her?” Sparrow asked.
Hud shook his head as he stared at the single tracks that led down another back alley. “So far nothing. One set of tracks indicates one rider separated from the other two. Mizz Price might have been slung over the saddle and carried off with one rider while the other rider headed the opposite direction to throw us off track.”
Sparrow nodded pensively. “You’re right. They’re probably trying to confuse us before they join up later.”
Hud followed the single set of prints that mingled with several trampled tracks in the street near the stacks of buffalo hides. He blew out his breath in frustration and stared into the distance. Even if he didn’t have much use for the spoiled female, he didn’t want to see her hurt. Not to mention how Commander Price would react when given the grim news.
The thought galvanized