The Cowboy’s Justice (Naked Cowboys of Smoky Hill #4)

Chapter Sixteen

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Staring at the tough, muscled cowboy, William was genuinely scared, but the moment Portia signed the documents he’d be gone, and not just from Smoky Hill. He was leaving his life, and the sooner the better.

“Did you hear me?” Devlin demanded as he saw Portia making her way towards them.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you. Don’t worry. I’ll take off and I won’t be back.”

“What is it you need?” Portia asked as she perched herself back on the bar stool.

Though he could feel Devlin’s eyes on him, William didn’t feel rattled. The lake and mountains had magically settled his nerves, and he’d had a brainstorm. After she had executed the documents, he’d cut off the signature line from one of them and paste it at the bottom of the Power of Attorney. When it was copied and emailed to her broker it would appear legitimate. It was referred to as cut and pasting, an outdated way of changing documents. When he was a boy hanging around his father’s busy office the secretaries would sometimes let him help.

“Just sign at the bottom like always,” William said, handing her the papers.

“But these are just minor addendums to the tenancy agreements,” Portia exclaimed. “I don’t understand the urgency.”

“I just wanted to get them out of the way. You know how work can pile up,” he replied as she scribbled her name. “Thanks. Now I’ll go back to the house and get my things. But Portia, if anything comes up I’ll be at your beck and call like always.”

Placing the papers back in his briefcase, William felt his heart tick up. He was almost there. But as he marched away he wanted to spin around and tell Devlin to go fuck himself.

Then he suddenly wanted to laugh out loud.

He’d soon be a free man.

Free from the boring work.

Free from the tough bosses at the law firm.

Free from the demanding clients.

He had no idea why the drug hadn’t worked on her, and changing his plans midstream was nerve-racking, but he was starting to see it as a blessing. He’d have his millions, and he wouldn’t have to deal with Portia ever again.

* * *

Watching William leave the restaurant Devlin’s eyes narrowed. Something didn’t feel right.

“What’s wrong?” Portia asked softly. “Aren’t you glad he didn’t argue about anything?”

“I made it clear if he did he’d have a problem. But he backed down too quickly, and he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would do that. What was it you signed?”

“I own a small apartment building and it was just an addendum to the rental contract. It doesn’t even go into effect until the beginning of next year. There was no urgency about it.”

“That’s weird,” Devlin muttered. “I don’t trust him. I know you’re uncomfortable at the thought of bein’ in your house while he’s clearin’ out his stuff, and I don’t see him as a petty thief, but I think we should go over there.”

“Maybe you’re right. I can pack while you keep your eye on him, though he might be gone by the time we get there.”

“Let’s go. Who knows, maybe catchin’ him by surprise will pay off. My gut is tellin’ me something’s up.”

* * *

The moment William arrived at Portia’s home he hurried down to the basement and unlocked the door leading out to the side of the house. He didn’t think he’d have any reason to return, but if something went horribly wrong it could be a temporary hiding place.

Moving to his room he packed the few items he kept there, but as he headed out the front door he saw the cowboy’s truck rolling towards the house. Not wanting to speak to him or Portia, he hurried to his car and managed to climb behind the wheel and speed past them as they rolled through the gates.

* * *

“Damn, he was in a hurry,” Devlin remarked, rolling to a stop. “Something’s up, I can feel it.”

“I don’t understand,” Portia muttered as they climbed from his truck. “He tried to drug me and now he’s racing away like—”

“Like his life depends on it,” Devlin interjected with a worried frown.

Hurrying through the front door they moved around the house, but Portia found nothing out of place.

“This is crazy,” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands.

“Why don’t you pack a few things while I call Pete.”

“Who’s Pete?”

“My vet. I’ll ask him if he can analyze that coffee you put in the water bottle. It’s in my glove box. We can drop it off on the way back to the ranch. Sammy will be there by now.”

“Sammy?”

“He fills in for Jimmy and Mike. Monday’s their day off too.”

“I can’t keep up,” she said, shaking her head. “When did you put the bottle in your glove box?”

“Right after you gave it to me.”

“Is there anything else I should know about?”

“Plenty. But you go pack. I really do need to get movin’.”

As she marched away, Devlin lifted his phone from his pocket and called Pete. After a quick explanation, the vet was happy to help.

“But, Devlin, you should really give it to Sheriff Cooper,” he added. “Whatever I do will be off the record.”

“Yep, I know, and that’s how I want it, at least for now.”