Colton 911: Caught In The Crossfire. Linda Johnston O.
Чтение книги онлайн.
Читать онлайн книгу Colton 911: Caught In The Crossfire - Linda Johnston O. страница 9
The way he spoke allowed for no argument, but that was okay with Casey. He decided he liked this idea, since they’d be able to get an earlier start in the morning. He assumed that was also why Clarence was so insistent about his staying here overnight. Still, there were a couple of things he’d need to handle first.
“I’m still on duty,” he told the older man. “And this is part of an assignment. I need to check with the sheriff first.” Which he’d intended to do, anyway, although he had no doubt Jeremy would approve this intense way of tackling his investigation.
Staying at the ranch added another level to it, but that was likely to be all right, as well.
Especially if Casey—and Melody—actually found the cattle and the people who’d taken them.
But to do the stakeout as now planned, Casey would also need to pick up the camping gear he had at his home as well as some more supplies at a local store.
When he mentioned that, Clarence put up a hand and moved it as if he was erasing what Casey said. “No need. We’ve got it all here. You’ll get it together tonight, Melody, right?”
“Of course,” she said.
But Casey remained adamant that he needed to get some things. And so, a few minutes later, he found himself in his car driving along the rural ranch-surrounded roads toward town as the sky began to turn dark. There were a few other cars that were heading in the opposite direction, but no one was heading to town, like him.
He used the Bluetooth to call the sheriff. “Yeah, Casey?” Jeremy answered. “Did you find those missing cattle? And whoever stole them?”
“Not yet, for either of them.” But Casey explained the situation to his superior officer, and how he was going to go on a stakeout with one of the ranch hands the next day.
“Would that ranch hand happen to be Melody Hayworth?” Casey could hear the suggestive tone in his boss’s voice.
What was it with guys? Casey thought. Did they not believe in his professionalism?
Or did they find Melody as attractive as he did, and therefore let their imaginations run wild—their jealous imaginations?
Maybe he would change his mind and give it a try…
No. He was a professional. And clearly Melody was, too.
“It is Melody,” Casey said in as formal a tone as he could muster. “She’s good with horses, and she knows the ranch.” Great reasons, even though talking about them was feeling a bit stale to Casey right now. “But looking for the cattle and the thieves—that’s all we’re up to. And I’ll keep you informed.”
But he realized as he hung up that he’d need to make a stop at the department to have one of the evidence guys check the charm for prints or origin, in case it could help lead to the perpetrator.
And there was something scratching at the back of his mind about it—but that was probably just because he hoped it would lead to something.
He still had a little ways to go before reaching the discount store he was heading to first, so he made another call, this time to Everett, who worked for the FBI in Phoenix. Everett was older by a couple of minutes, and they didn’t look much alike. And for twins, their personalities weren’t much the same, though they’d both gone into law enforcement.
“Hey, bro, what’s up?” Everett said as he answered.
“On an interesting case,” Casey replied, then described the cattle rustling and how he was attempting to find the missing animals and solve the situation.
He didn’t mention that the ranch hand helping him was a woman, though. He’d never hear the end of it from Everett.
“I’ll be out on a stakeout for as long as it takes,” he informed his brother. “The ranch’s owner has things set up so I should have power for my phone, but I haven’t tried that yet.”
“Well, better call the folks before you go, to let them know what you’re up to in case you become unreachable.”
Which Casey did next. He’d reached the store’s parking lot, so he sat there as he talked to their parents, who both got on the phone.
Neither of them was in law enforcement. Dr. Ryker Colton, their dad, was an oncologist in town, and their mom, Maribelle Colton, ran the Cactus Creek post office.
As he finished and told them he was probably—but not absolutely—going to be reachable over the next few days, his father said in his aging scratchy voice, “Now, you be careful, son. Got it?”
“Got it, Dad.”
“That won’t keep you from coming for Thanksgiving dinner, or Christmas dinner?” his mom asked, her tone a sweet chirp, as always. “You know we’ll want you to come. And…well, if you’d like to bring someone for Christmas, that’s fine.”
“Thanks, Mom,” he said. “There shouldn’t be any problem with my being there for either one.” After all, Thanksgiving was a couple of weeks away, and Christmas even farther away. “And if I think of anyone to invite, I’ll let you know.” His mind had flown immediately to Melody, of course. But he didn’t know if she had family here, or friends she’d want to spend the holiday with.
Besides, under these circumstances…well, he’d just have to see.
Melody wasn’t sure what she’d expected dinner to be like with just the three of them—herself, Clarence and Casey—that night, so she wasn’t surprised. But this felt unique.
And worrisome.
What if Casey and she didn’t find the cattle and the people who’d stolen them? What if the stock weren’t returned, especially after she’d sort of been singled out like this to help handle the situation?
They sat in Clarence’s posh dining room, with its antique wooden table and chairs, a tall, matching buffet against the wall and a glimmering chandelier hanging over the table. Melody felt she should have worn something dressier, but the men with her also wore casual clothing. When Casey had gone home to grab what he’d need while camping out, he had changed into jeans and a deep blue long-sleeved T-shirt that hugged his chest—and he looked hunky in it. She had to make sure she didn’t stare.
He was likely to wear that and similar clothes on their stakeout, although he’d need to keep at least his ID with him to show he was a deputy if—and when—they found the rustlers. Probably his gun, too. She would stay as remote as appropriate from him mentally, even though they would be physically near each other.
The large room was filled with the aroma of what was being cooked next door in the kitchen. Melody suspected she hadn’t met everyone who worked here even now, after six months. Did Clarence