Chapter Six #3
As the elevator dinged on arrival at the floor, her pulse quickened.
She waited for the knock before she rose and took her time getting to the door and opening it.
She’d never gotten along with her whining brother, and she could barely stand her sister-in-law, who hid her scheming nature behind a mask of vapid stupidity.
“Fancy seeing you here, Jasmine.” Simone sashayed into the room, followed by her husband. “And who, pray tell, was that man sitting across from you at breakfast? I daresay he looked familiar. His hair had a cowlick in back, as if he might’ve spent the night and left the room in a bit of a rush.”
Jasmine motioned them to a seat on the foot of the bed, while she took the chair, swiveling it to face them. “Why don’t you just get down to business and tell me why you’re here?”
Darrin cleared his throat. “As you know, we’re still working to reclaim the family home. Now that Dad’s gone, Lila has no right to be there.”
“And, as you know, I couldn’t care less about the place,” Jasmine said. “Lila’s no friend, but she’s your problem, not mine. All I want is to be free of the whole mess. Anyway, I thought you were going to settle your claim in court.”
“That could take months,” Simone said. “And there’s always the chance we might not win. Your brother promised me …” She trailed off as Darrin nudged her with an elbow.
“One way or another, we’ve got to get Lila out of that house,” Darrin said. “We didn’t plan to involve you. In fact, we thought you were still with Mother. But now that you’re here, we could use your help. We’re family, Jasmine. You owe that much to Dad’s memory.”
“Do I?” Jasmine arched an eyebrow. She didn’t like where this was going, but so far, she wasn’t surprised. “What if I say no?”
“We were hoping not to have to bring this up,” Simone said. “But we know what we saw downstairs in the coffee shop. Your FBI lover could lose his job if it became known that he was sleeping with a person of interest in his case.”
Jasmine’s stomach clenched. She should have known this was coming. But to hear those words from Simone’s mouth still came as a shock. “You don’t know that,” she said. “And even if it were true, you couldn’t prove it.”
“Oh, couldn’t we?” Simone whipped her phone out of her purse and scrolled down the menu. “Take a look at these.”
The photos couldn’t have been more clear. They showed Jasmine and Sam gazing at each other across the table. The pictures removed any need for an explanation.
Jasmine gasped. “How did you—?”
“Simple.” Simone’s carefully made-up face wore a triumphant grin. “We paid a waitress to take pictures with this phone. You two were so busy making google eyes at each other that you didn’t even notice her.”
Darrin leaned toward her, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial low. “So let’s talk family business, shall we, Sister?”
Cheyenne found Roper with the two stallions. He was standing inside One in a Million’s stall, plying a brush to the big roan’s hindquarters. As Cheyenne spoke his name, he dropped the brush, straightened, and turned toward her. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw unshaven.
“You look like hell, Brother,” she said. “When did you last sleep?”
“I got a couple of hours in the night. I’ll sleep when this week is over—even if it’s on a jail bunk.”
“Don’t!” She seized his arm. “That kind of talk will only make things worse. You’re innocent—you know it, and I know it. So stop tormenting yourself. The Run for a Million is your dream. You’ve got to be fit to ride on Saturday.”
He took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Sam came by to check up on me earlier. A highway patrolman found that green Peterbilt in a gully off I-15, burned to ashes with the driver inside.”
Cheyenne shuddered, remembering the man she and Hayden had met outside that cheap motel. He’d had a gun and could easily have shot them both.
“But why would he be killed?” she asked. “Was it because he didn’t run us off the road?”
Roper shrugged. “That, or he knew too much. Maybe he’d threatened to talk if he didn’t get paid. Sam thinks that Frank’s ex-wife could be behind it. She’s got mob connections, and there’s nothing she’d like better than to get rid of Lila so her kids can get the house and stables back.”
“So that was supposed to be Lila, not me, in your truck?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Could the first Mrs. Culhane have killed Frank? As his ex, she certainly might’ve had reason.”
“Sam looked into that. He says she actually tried, but Frank died before her hit man could get to him.” Roper massaged his back with one hand. “I saw her work the crowd at Frank’s memorial service. The woman was a force of nature. I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
“So, will Lila be coming to watch you ride? I’ve seen her from a distance, but I’ve never met her. What’s she like?”
“Strong. Brave. Smart. And stubborn. Oh, hell, is she ever stubborn. A bit like you, Little Sis.”
“You love her, don’t you?”
“No comment.” Roper picked up the brush and began stroking along the stallion’s back and down his withers. One in a Million exhaled with a long, chuffing breath.
“I was hoping to meet Lila this week. Will she be here to watch you ride?”
“I told her not to come. But, as I said, she’s stubborn.”
“Mother doesn’t like her, or any of the Culhanes—not that she knows them,” Cheyenne said.
“Mother will be your problem. Maybe you can do us all a favor and talk her out of coming.”
“She’ll be fine. She plans to stay in my hotel room until the big event.”
“How are things with Hayden?” he asked. “You seem to be spending a lot of time with him.”
Cheyenne hadn’t forgotten the news she’d come to give Roper. Hesitant to upset him, she had let their conversation become sidetracked. But now that he’d given her an opening, it couldn’t wait any longer.
“Speaking of Hayden, something’s happened, Roper,” she said. “Something awful.”
“What?” He stared at her, his arm lowering the brush as if it were a heavy weight.
“Hayden isn’t here. He got word this morning that his father’s plane had crashed over New Mexico. He’s on his way to Gallup.”
“And Chet?” Roper’s face had paled.
“He’s in the hospital. But he’s not expected to live. That’s all I know about his condition.”
“Damn.” Roper cursed, shaking his head. “I talked to Chet on the phone last night. He was upset about his stallion, of course, but he didn’t blame me. He offered to work with the horse in the hope that we could have him ready to show. I didn’t tell him how bad off Fire Dance was.”
“There’s something else,” Cheyenne said. “He had a passenger in the plane, a young woman. She didn’t survive the crash.”
“Oh, Lord, no,” Roper groaned. “Chet mentioned that his girlfriend wanted to come to Las Vegas with him. They’d planned to get married, and she’d always wanted an Elvis wedding. But he said he’d talked her into waiting for a less busy time. She must’ve changed his mind.”
“Did he mention that she was pregnant?”
“No. But that makes sense. Damn rotten luck.” Roper sucked in his breath. “Chet was hoping to see Hayden win the Cutting Horse Challenge. I guess that doesn’t matter anymore. What about Hayden’s horse?”
“I’m taking care of Steely Dan. He’s a sweet boy. Hayden said he’d send a driver to load the two horses and take them home to Texas.” She paused, glancing down the row of stalls. “How is Fire Dance?”
“Not good,” Roper said. “See for yourself. Don’t open the gate. Just look over the top.”
Fire Dance’s stall was two numbers down the row. Dreading what she was about to see, Cheyenne stretched on tiptoe to look over the gate.
The sight of the beautiful sorrel stallion broke her heart. He was wild-eyed, pacing, and tossing his head. When he saw Cheyenne at the gate, he lunged for her, baring his teeth. Reflexively, she jumped back.
“Nobody can get near him, not even to clean his stall,” Roper said. “We’re sliding food and water under the gate, but he’s not taking much.”
“Oh, Roper.” She blinked back tears. “What’s going to happen to him?”
Roper shook his head. “If he can make it home, where he feels safe, he might be all right in time. But he can’t stay here. If he’s too dangerous to load or be sedated, there’ll be nothing we can do but put him down.”