Chapter 16
“Who is Isaac Gomez?” Cal asked as the door of the bar closed behind them.
She turned to him, seeing his gray eyes filled with apprehension and a healthy dose of worry. “He’s a prominent attorney for the county. He rarely loses. He’s as well-known as Hank. They move in the same circles.”
“And?” Cal asked, his brows rising when she hesitated.
“There have long been rumors that he’s not exactly on the up and up.”
“Shit,” Cal said as he turned away, scratching his forehead. He dropped his arm and faced her again. “Maybe I should talk to him.”
She shook her head. “I doubt he’d tell you anything.”
“I need to know about that missing time. I have to know what I did.”
It suddenly hit her . . . “You believe you let Legacy out.”
He stared at her for a long, silent minute. “Those weren’t my boot heels around the gate, and I can prove that. I don’t think I was directly responsible, but I can’t shake the horrible feeling that I was part of it somehow.”
Since there was a chance that he could’ve been, Dillon decided not to reply.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be at the ranch,” Cal said.
Dillon put her hands on her hips and sighed. “I need the help. Besides, we made a deal.”
Cal ran his hand over his mouth and then looked at the ground for several moments. “I’m not lying about any of this.”
“I don’t know if you are or aren’t. What I do know is that you saved me and helped me track Legacy. If you were working with Hank, I don’t think you would’ve done that.”
His eyes lifted to hers. “Is there a connection between Hank and Isaac Gomez?”
“Yes.”
“Dammit,” Cal spat as he briefly closed his eyes. “Everything goes back to Hank.”
“Yep.”
Cal walked to the front of his truck and braced his hands on the hood as he watched the passing traffic on the road. “I need to get to the bottom of things.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t.”
His head swung to her, and his brows furrowed. “Why?”
“You might not like what you find.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s a guarantee.” He blew out a frustrated breath and straightened. “Regardless of what you think, I would never willingly help someone commit a crime.”
The sincerity in his eyes struck her straight in the heart. “We’re not going to find out any more today. Let’s head back to the ranch.”
Cal nodded and got into his truck. Dillon moved slower to the driver’s side of her vehicle.
She gave Ike’s one last look before driving away.
Cal remained behind her, his black truck visible every time she glanced in the rearview mirror.
At first, she had been irritated that he’d followed her.
Then she recalled the sound of the bullet that had landed near her and had nearly taken her life.
Dillon didn’t know if it was someone who worked for her, someone she knew, or a stranger. Every person she came across now, she wondered if they had pulled the trigger—and when they would make another attempt.
Someone wanted her dead. It would be easy to lock herself in her room and allow fear to rule her.
But that wasn’t who she was. Besides, she didn’t want to give those after her the satisfaction of knowing how deep her terror ran.
So, she made herself go about her daily routine.
But it wasn’t easy, and she knew it would only get harder until whoever was after her was brought to justice.
She slowed to turn onto Bar 4’s drive. Cal’s truck was right behind her, and she wondered how he was doing.
She considered herself a decent judge of character.
Either Cal was a fabulous actor, or he was in the middle of this, right along with her.
While she hated that he was missing time, she was also glad that she had someone who understood a little of what she was going through.
Not that Emmett didn’t, but it was different with him.
Dillon parked the truck and turned off the ignition. Cal waved to her as he continued on to the bunkhouse. She almost got out and flagged him down, asked him to have dinner with her again, but then decided against it at the last minute.
She walked up the porch steps and unlocked the door. Once inside, she stood at the kitchen island and listened to the silence. The house had been built for a family. When Dillon mentioned that once, Dolly had snorted loudly.
“My dear, the worst thing you can do is follow everyone else’s rules about life. Do what you want. What makes you happy.”
At one time, Dillon had thought to have a husband and kids.
That path had been clear before her. But it had vanished in an instant.
It had been the lowest point of her life.
Then, Dolly had died. And Dillon was bereft.
The last thing she had thought about was the ranch, but Dolly had made sure that everything was in order.
Dillon dropped her gaze to the island and set her hat down.
She trudged to the stairs and made her way to her room, where she took a long shower.
After she’d dried off, she looked at herself in the mirror and gently ran her finger along the fine lines around her eyes.
Dillon inwardly shook herself for being concerned about the signs of aging.
She removed the towel from atop her head and combed through the wet length of her hair.
Then she gently dabbed some rosehip oil onto her face and eyelids.
While that soaked in, she put product in her hair.
Once she applied her eye and face creams, she put on a pair of cream lounge pants and a tan T-shirt before heading downstairs.
She opened the fridge and pulled out some leftovers from the night before.
While they heated in the microwave, she looked out the kitchen window to Bar 4’s rolling hills.
The summer sun wouldn’t set for another couple of hours.
Usually, she used the time to work, but she needed a night to herself.
Her gaze moved over the pastures dotted with cattle and others with horses.
It was a beautiful place. She understood why others might want it, but just because someone coveted what she had didn’t mean they had a right to take it.
The microwave dinged, pulling her out of her thoughts.
Dillon took her plate and a bottle of Coke and walked to the living area.
She curled up on her favorite side of the sofa and turned on the television.
After scrolling through various shows that she usually watched, she settled on an old favorite—Stargate Atlantis.
Long after she’d finished the meal and her plate had been put in the dishwasher, Dillon remained on the couch.
She even ignored the need to head to her office and take care of administrative work.
The next time she looked up, night had fallen.
Dillon paused the show and rose to get herself an adult beverage.
She poured some Chambord into a glass with ice and shifted to add some club soda when the window shattered. Dillon instantly dropped below the counter as her heart slammed against her ribs. Two more shots quickly followed. She covered her head as wood splinters rained down on her.
“Dillon? Dillon, answer me!”
More shots rang out. More glass broke. The sound of Cal’s voice growing closer had her crawling to the entryway. She flattened herself against the lower cabinets and glanced out the window on the door. She heard shouts from Emmett and Freddy.
A startled yelp escaped Dillon when a figure suddenly appeared.
The instant she recognized Cal through the window, she reached over and unlocked the door.
He hurried inside and slammed it behind him as he moved away and flattened against the wall.
He took in the kitchen and then lowered next to her.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded.
She shook her head. “I-I don’t think so.”
“Then where did the blood come from?”
Dillon frowned as she looked behind her and saw the smears of blood.
She lifted her hands and saw the glass and splinters embedded in her palms. She hadn’t felt anything.
When she looked lower, she found that her lounge pants were soaked in blood at the knees where more glass protruded from her skin.
“Shit,” Cal murmured as he squatted beside her. “Is there more?”
Dillon shrugged. She was suddenly cold.
“It’s okay,” Cal told her as he checked her feet before lifting her into his arms. “Emmett and Freddy are looking for the shooter.”
He gently set her on the sofa and said something before snapping the curtains closed, but all she could think about was that she wasn’t even safe in her own home.
How silly she’d been to believe that no one could harm her while she was within the safe confines of her house. How na?ve she was. How utterly stupid.
“Dillon.”
She blinked and found Cal’s face close to hers.
“Where is your first-aid kit?”
She heard his question, but for the life of her, she couldn’t form a response.
“It’s in here,” Emmett said as he and Freddy rushed into the house.
Freddy halted just inside the back door. He was shirtless, his jeans hanging open, but he had gotten on his boots, at least. He held a rifle in one hand, and a flashlight in the other. He stared at the kitchen floor before swiveling his head to her.
“Boss?” he asked worriedly.
Emmett tossed Cal the white box filled with first-aid supplies. Then he turned to Freddy. “Stop your gawking. I need you to call the sheriff.”
Freddy snapped to attention and did as Emmett ordered. Then the ranch manager turned to her. Emmett’s head of white hair was in disarray. He had on a white sleeveless undershirt and jeans that he had managed to buckle, but he was only in his stocking feet.
“I need a bowl,” Cal told him. “Warm water and something to wipe up the blood.”
Dillon sat quietly. She still didn’t feel any pain. The entire event was surreal and as if she were looking at it from far away. She turned her attention to Cal as he took a folding knife out of his pocket and cut her pants so he could get to the glass.
With steady hands, he took tweezers and gently picked out the shards of glass and wood, dropping them into a bowl that Emmett held. Cal was meticulous, making sure he got every sliver and flake. She watched him, absorbed in every movement he made.
The next thing she knew, blue and red lights flashed through every window, and she saw that Freddy and Emmett were with the authorities.
“Look at me,” Cal urged her.
She focused on his gray eyes.
He smiled. “Good girl. Don’t worry about anything else right now. Okay?”
Dillon nodded. The first stings of pain were beginning to register. She pulled away from it, but there was no running.
By the time Cal finished with her knees, the pain had enveloped her. He took one look at her face and said her name. She heard him as if from a great distance. Nausea set in, and black dots danced on the edges of her vision.
“Cal,” she called as she felt herself falling to the side.
Strong arms grabbed her, and she knew without looking that it was Cal. Dimly, she heard him say something, but she couldn’t make it out. Her eyes were out of focus, her ears ringing, and she couldn’t stop shaking.
Cal held her carefully but firmly. His warmth finally seeped through her icy skin so she could take a deep breath. The ringing gradually lessened, and she cleared her eyes enough to find herself staring into his eyes.
“Almost done,” he promised.
Dillon believed him. She realized that she had believed him from the first moment she met him.
It was inexplicable why she would do such a thing, but she did.
She wanted to tell him. Instead, she watched him gently remove glass and wood from her hands and fingers before dabbing all the cuts with a gauze pad soaked in water.
He did another thorough look for any remaining dirt or debris.
When he seemed satisfied that the wounds were clean, he applied an antibiotic cream and wrapped the worst of the cuts with a bandage.
Cal didn’t look at her until he had put everything back in the first-aid box. “You scared the hell out of me.”
His words brought back the events of the night. She swallowed as emotion choked her. Her eyes burned as tears gathered and two fell onto her cheeks.
“Well, Ms. Young,” Chet said as he walked up. “This investigation is turning out to be much more than anticipated.”