Chapter 17
Fury scorched a trail through Cal’s veins.
He liked the emotion better than the dread that had assaulted him at the sound of that first shot.
He’d never run so fast in his life, and even then, it felt as if it had taken him an eternity to reach the house.
When he saw Dillon on the floor with the blood, he’d feared the worst.
“I’d like to ask you both a few questions.”
Cal blinked and jerked his gaze to Chet Thompson, who stood over them. Cal realized that the ranger had been speaking to him and Dillon, though Chet’s gaze was on Cal. “Of course,” he replied.
“Ms. Young?” Chet asked, concern coloring his voice. “Are you up to this now?”
Dillon cleared her throat twice and then opted for a nod.
Cal wanted everyone out of the house so he could go track the son of a bitch who had shot at Dillon again. The authorities needed answers first, however. Cal understood that they had a job to do, but so did he. And the quicker the sheriff, his deputies, and the ranger were gone, the better.
“Dillon is still in shock. Let’s only make her go through this once,” Cal suggested.
Chet held his gaze for a full thirty seconds before nodding and turning on his heel to walk to the group of police officers speaking with Emmett and Freddy.
Cal looked at Dillon. “Do you need anything?”
She tried to smile, but her lips trembled before she shook her head.
Cal rubbed his hands on his jeans, where drops of Dillon’s blood stained the denim. “You might not, but I do. Have any liquor?”
Dillon pointed to a cabinet in the dining room. Cal rose and walked to it. When he opened it, he saw that he had his pick of alcohol. He chose a bottle of mezcal and brought it back to Dillon. He opened the bottle and took a drink before handing it to her.
“A small swig might help,” Chet told her when he returned.
Dillon looked between them before taking the bottle and bringing it to her lips for a quick drink. Cal took the mezcal and drank another long swig as the sheriff and Deputy Smith from the day before walked up.
“Deputy,” Cal said with a nod. His eyes swung to the sheriff, whose name tag read Sheriff Felps. “Sheriff.”
The sheriff held out his hand. “I’ve not had the pleasure.”
“Cal Bennett,” he replied as he shook the sheriff’s hand, though Cal had a suspicion Felps knew exactly who he was.
Chet pushed his hat back on his head and caught Dillon’s gaze. “May I?” he asked and pointed to a chair.
“Please,” Dillon said.
The anger inside Cal tightened at the softness of her voice. This wasn’t the Dillon he’d come to know.
Once Chet, Felps, and Deputy Smith had taken seats, their gazes turned to Cal. He wasn’t surprised that they wanted to start with him. He remained standing in a bid to calm himself, but it wasn’t working.
“Emmett and Freddy said you were the first to the house,” the sheriff said.
Cal raised a brow. “As I’m sure Freddy also told you, he was on the phone with a female friend in the bunkhouse, and I didn’t want to intrude.
I took a walk to give him some privacy and checked on the horses and made sure the gates were locked.
I reached the house first because I was the closest. Since more shots were fired after I was with Dillon, that should remove me as a suspect.
However, I’m also willing to submit to a gunshot residue test.”
“You might not have pulled the trigger, but you could’ve been part of it,” Chet said.
Cal gripped the bottle tighter. “I wasn’t. No one was with me after I left the bunkhouse and before I found Dillon.”
“Where were you exactly when you heard the first shot?” the ranger asked.
Cal swallowed. “I had just double-checked the pasture where Legacy was stolen when I heard the shot and the sound of glass shattering. I looked toward the house and saw the broken window. I ran straight here, shouting for Dillon. I tried to see where the shooter was, but I wanted to make sure Dillon wasn’t injured.
When I reached the door, it was locked. Three more shots were fired.
Between the retorts, I heard Freddy and Emmett, so I knew they were searching for the shooter.
The door suddenly opened, and I saw Dillon on the floor with the blood.
I quickly got her out of the kitchen to tend to her wounds.
Emmett and Freddy arrived soon after, closed the curtains around the open windows, and helped me get Dillon’s wounds cleaned. ”
The sheriff nodded as he wrote in his little notebook. “How many shots were fired?”
“Six,” Cal answered.
Deputy Smith asked, “You didn’t hear or see anything out of the ordinary?”
“It’s only my second night at the ranch. I’m still learning what’s normal, but I can tell you that had I seen or heard anything that might have alerted me that someone was trespassing on the ranch, I would’ve gone to investigate,” Cal said.
Chet nodded slowly. “Tell me about your day. What did you do, leading up to tonight?”
“I was with you, Dillon, and Emmett this morning, going through what we discovered yesterday. After we left you with Hank, the three of us returned to the ranch and worked through the day.”
“Can anyone verify your whereabouts during the day?” Felps asked.
“I can,” Dillon interjected before Cal could.
Chet’s dark eyes swung to Dillon. “The entire day?”
“I didn’t see him every second, no,” she said. “But he was never far from me.”
The sheriff frowned. “That sounds a lot like obsessive behavior.”
Cal had had enough. “I tackled her out of the way of a bullet yesterday. I was right there with her when the shots were fired. Emmett wanted me hired specifically to be a bodyguard of sorts for Dillon. Plus, she needed a ranch hand.”
“So, you took it upon yourself to do both?” Chet asked.
Cal shrugged. “I was attempting to, yes.”
Chet motioned with his hand. “Continue with your day.”
“Dillon took off for town. I followed and caught up to her at the grocery store. We went in together, and each bought a few things.” Cal paused and set the bottle of mezcal down on the coffee table.
“I kept thinking about what you said this morning about wanting answers. The last thing I remembered about the other night was being at Ike’s.
Since we were in town, the two of us headed to the bar to see if we could find those answers. ”
“Which we did,” Dillon added.
The sheriff looked between them. “And?”
“The bartender recognized me,” Cal continued. “Said she cut me off because I was drunk and wanted to call me a cab. Before she could, two men walked in and approached me as if they knew me.”
Chet’s gaze was intense. “Were you expecting anyone?”
“The only person I knew in town was Hank, and I hadn’t told him that I was here. So, to answer your question, no.” Cal drew in a deep breath and then slowly released it. “I don’t remember the men. Apparently, they told the bartender they would take care of me, and the three of us left.”
“And you remember none of this?” Chet asked.
Cal shook his head. “The last thing I remember is sitting at Ike’s.”
“What about the men?” the sheriff asked. “Do you remember them?”
Cal glanced at Dillon to find her watching him. “I don’t. The bartender didn’t know their names but said she recognized one guy. She mentioned that he does jobs for Isaac Gomez.”
Out of the corner of Cal’s eye, he saw the deputy jerk his head toward the sheriff, but the sheriff was making notes, preventing Cal from seeing his face.
“Finding out who that is should be easy,” Cal said to get a reaction.
Smith hastily looked away from the sheriff as Felps raised his gaze to Cal. “We’ll make some calls.”
“What happened after you left Ike’s?” Chet asked.
Cal shrugged. “I followed Dillon here. She parked by the house, and I continued to the bunkhouse. I put away my groceries and made a sandwich. I tried to watch some TV, but I was still wound up from what I’d learned.
Freddy came in on his phone, and he didn’t take kindly to my pacing.
That’s when I left to check the horses and gates and give him some privacy. You know the rest.”
“All right,” Felps said. “I don’t have any more questions for you right now. Thompson?”
The ranger shook his head.
Their attention shifted to Dillon. Cal noticed that she was still pale, though she looked better every minute.
His gaze dropped to her pants that he’d had to cut to get to her injuries.
The blood was drying now, turning a rust color.
Her hands rested, palms-up, by her sides, the white bandages a stark contrast to the couch’s navy fabric.
Cal listened as Dillon went through her day, starting from that morning and going all the way until they returned from town. Then she paused. He saw that she was struggling with the idea of being shot at again.
“I . . . I changed and heated some leftovers,” she said, her gaze on the rug covering the hardwood floor. “I watched some TV and then got up to get a drink. I was in the middle of pouring when . . .”
It killed Cal to sit there and watch her battle the emotions. He didn’t know what to do or say. He’d never been in such a situation before, and he felt useless. Inept. He was a man of action, yet he couldn’t do anything to relieve her of this burden.
She swallowed loudly and lifted her gaze to look at Chet.
“The window exploded. Instinctively, I dropped to the floor. Two more shots rang out, and I covered my head with my arms as debris rained down. I heard Cal shouting my name, and I could tell that he was coming closer to the house. I knew he was there to help, so I crawled to the door. I never felt the glass sinking into my skin.”
“You couldn’t have been certain that Mr. Bennett wasn’t the shooter,” Felps stated.
Cal fought to keep his mouth shut and stifle the urge to become defensive. He had to remind himself that the authorities were only doing their jobs.
Dillon slid her gaze to him. “More bullets came through my kitchen, Sheriff. And the sound of them firing hadn’t grown closer. Common sense told me that Cal was there to help.”
Felps, firmly put back in his place, licked his lips. “Do you have any idea who might want to see you dead?”
“You mean other than your good friend, Hank Stephens?” Dillon replied coolly. “No.”
Chet rose to his feet. “I think we have all we need for the moment. Don’t you, Sheriff?”
Felps nodded and stood. He tipped his hat to Dillon. “We’ll be back in touch if we need anything else. I’ll have my people searching the area to see if they can find the shooter’s location. This is a crime scene now, so they’ll continue to gather any evidence they uncover.”
After Felps and the deputy walked away to meet with the others, Chet remained behind. Only when the sheriff was out of earshot did the ranger turn to them.
“Two attempts on your life in two days? I don’t like this,” Chet said to Dillon.
Cal crossed his arms over his chest. “Did you find anything today?”
“Nothing yet.” Chet adjusted his Stetson on his head. “I’m good at what I do, and I won’t stop until I get to the bottom of this.”
Dillon’s shoulders sank. “You’ve got your work cut out for you.”
Cal didn’t intend to stand by and do nothing. He’d conduct his own investigation. Something was going on, and he didn’t like that he had been brought into the middle of it without his consent. But he would get to the bottom of things, one way or another.