“If anyone deserved it, it was Jeb.”
Bart shook his head. “As miserable as that son of a bitch was, no one deserves to die.”
Gary flicked a shoulder in a half shrug. Avoiding Bart’s eyes, he grabbed the cinch and fastened it around the mare’s girth. She took in air, bloating her belly so he couldn’t tighten it.
“I tried to wake you up last night.”
“Oh?”
“I wanted to ask you about our night at the Hit ’Em Again.”
“What about it?”
“How did I get home?”
“You blacked out, huh?”
“Something like that.”
Gary kneed the little bay in the belly. Pinning her ears, she let out the air with a grunt. He pulled the cinch tight, slipped the latigo into its keeper and let the stirrup fall against her side. “When I went to leave, you were already gone. I figured you must have left with that fine young thing you were talking to at the bar.”
“Fine young thing?”
“You would have to black out to forget her. Blond. Legs longer than this mare is tall. Former Dallas Cowboys cheerleader, according to your drunken babble.”
The same blonde who was with Kenny in the alley? There couldn’t be two long-legged mystery blondes in Mustang Valley. Had she been the one to drug his drink? Provided the date-rape drug was responsible for his memory loss. “Did you see me drinking whiskey?”
Gary shook his head. “Just beer. But I wasn’t watching over you like a goddamned nursemaid.”
Too bad. A nursemaid was apparently what he’d needed that night. Maybe he should have asked Beatrice, his daddy’s nurse, to go to the saloon with him instead of Gary. “What else did I say about the blonde?”
“You were too busy to have much conversation with me. But I got the impression she was hitting on you and not the other way around.”
At least he wouldn’t be known around town as some kind of womanizer. Just a drunk and a murderer. “Who was she?”
“Don’t know. But you might want to check out yesterday’s Mustang Gazette. They put out a special afternoon edition. There’s a picture of her in it with Jeb.”
“You have one?”
Gary nodded toward the tack room.
Bart stepped inside. The scent of horse sweat mingled with well-worn leather. He spotted the paper laying on a saddle rack. Bracing himself, he picked it up and looked under the headline proclaiming Mustang Valley’s second murder in two months. His gaze landed on a picture of his uncle. Thin-lipped mouth set at a mean angle, Jeb stared at the camera as if challenging it to a fistfight. And on Jeb’s arm was the blonde who’d accompanied Kenny to the alley last night.
The jingle of spurs jolted him out of his surprise. He glanced up from the paper as Gary leaned in the tack-room door, holding his saddled and bridled horse by a single rein. “She’s something, ain’t she? Can’t figure out for the life of me what she’d be doing with old Jeb.”
Neither could Bart. But he was damn well going to find out.
LINDSEY LOOKED UP from her paperwork as Bart laid a copy of the Mustang Gazette in front of her. Propping a hip on the edge of her desk, he watched as if waiting for her reaction.
She had a reaction, all right, but it wasn’t to the newspaper.
Dressed in a denim shirt, jeans, tooled belt complete with big silver buckle and a well-shaped straw hat that blended with the sun-kissed blond of his hair, Bart looked like a lonely woman’s cowboy dream. And his scent. Mmm. He wore the rugged scent of leather, honest work and fresh air. She breathed deeply and struggled to keep her composure.
What was it about being around this man that made her lose her equilibrium? She’d felt off balance since the moment she’d first touched his hand in the jail’s visiting room. His attempt to protect her last night after her car had been vandalized hadn’t helped matters. It had only made her feel helpless on top of fluttery. An unwelcome reminder of the way she’d always felt when her parents and brothers had hovered over her as she was growing up—the way they would still be hovering if she hadn’t moved halfway across the country. As if she were incompetent, helpless, dependent.
As if she were still a little girl.
She shoved her insecurities to the back of her mind and tried to focus on the faces in the newspaper photo. Her past feelings didn’t matter. Nor did her attraction to her client. She was on her own now, and the chance to prove herself was right in front of her. All she had to do was reach out and grab it by the throat. “I saw the picture about ten minutes ago. I would have called, but I figured you were already on your way here to keep our appointment.”
“I’ve never seen that blonde around Mustang Valley before. Suddenly she’s everywhere.”
She nodded and studied the woman’s attractive features. “At least, everywhere with Jeb and Kenny.”
“And me.”
“You?” Adrenaline jolted through her bloodstream, partly due to surprise, partly due to something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. “When was she with you?”
“I caught up with Gary this morning. He said she was sitting with me at Hit ’Em Again the night Jeb was killed.”
“The same woman? Is he sure?”
He nodded.
Another jolt.
Jealousy. That was it. Plain, simple and inappropriate. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind, trying to reclaim her professional demeanor. “Does Gary know who she is?”
“Nope.”
“I gave Wade a call at the bar this morning. He didn’t remember seeing her at all that night. And neither did the kid he’s training. Of course, the kid was concentrating so hard on serving drinks, he didn’t remember much of anything.” Lindsey bit her bottom lip. “Maybe the blonde’s working with Kenny.”
He tilted his head and waited for her to go on.
“Say Kenny did kill his father in order to inherit the ranch and he wanted to make it look like you’re responsible. How would he do that? I mean, he could never get close enough to slip Rohypnol in your beer. Not without you being suspicious. But he could hire the blonde to do it.”
“If Rohypnol was in my beer.”
“I borrowed Cara’s car to take the pieces of bottle to the lab this morning.” She didn’t want to think about what she would do if the drug didn’t show up in any of the tests. She knew Bart was telling the truth about blacking out that night. And she knew he was innocent. She could feel the honesty in every word from his lips. But faith and trust weren’t exactly accepted as evidence in a court of law. And as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she
