Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
Whenever her mother held a charity fundraiser there would be a silent auction. It was one of the highlights of the evening, and with her excellent organizational skills, Helen had been put in charge of the event. As the hours passed, she constantly checked her watch not wanting to be late for her meeting with Kenny. But as the time drew near, she found herself wishing she hadn’t agreed to see him.
Hoping she could reach him in time to cancel, she hurried into the library, closed the door and pulled her phone from her pocket. To her dismay, when she placed the call his voicemail answered. She wasn’t surprised, and she didn’t want to leave a message, but a moment later it chimed. Thinking he was calling her back she snatched it up, only to find Andy’s name on the screen.
“Hey, there, how’s it goin’?” he asked. “Are you on top of it all?”
“Pretty much. What about you?”
“The delivery just arrived and I’m putting the tack box gifts together. My clients will be here in about an hour.”
“I thought they weren’t coming until tomorrow.”
“They’re just droppin’ in to see the place and say hello to their horses. They’ll only be here for a short time. Of course that could change. But I wanted to check in with you before they arrive to ask about Kenny. Is the meetin’ still on?”
“I’m afraid so. I actually tried to contact him to cancel but his phone went straight to voicemail.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“I’m on top of things, but I want to stay here in case something unexpected crops up and my mother needs me. And honestly…I’m beginning to feel there’s something wrong. I think it’s weird that I can’t tell anyone.”
“Darlin’, I agree completely,” Andy replied solemnly. “You could always leave a message at the restaurant that something came up.”
“If I’d been able to reach him in time to cancel that’s one thing, but to just not show…”
“Yeah, I get that. Just remember, if you feel uncomfortable at any time for any reason, get out of there, or visit the powder room and call me—hang on—I hear someone drivin’ up. I’d better go. But good luck, hon. Call me as soon as you’re done.”
“I will. Bye.”
* * *
Surprised one of the group was arriving so soon, Andy left the tack room and strode down the barn aisle. But as he neared the door, he quickly realized he wasn’t hearing a truck or car, but a motorbike.
Pausing his step and cautiously peering around the barn door, his pulse quickened. An exceptionally tall, powerfully built man was climbing off a hefty motorcycle, and his face was contorted in an angry scowl. Not having any idea who the man was, why he was there, or what had made him so furious, Andy chose to stay exactly where he was.
“Hey! Baker! I need to talk to you!”
While be could hold his own in a fight, Andy didn’t have any desire to tackle a tough biker who looked like the son of the Incredible Hulk. Quickly snatching his phone from his pocket he bypassed 911 and called Sheriff Cooper directly.
“Andy, hey, what’s goin’ on?”
“Sheriff, a tough lookin’ biker just rode into my ranch. I don’t know who he is or why he’s here, but he called for me by name, and he looks hoppin’ mad, like he’s about to cause trouble.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Uh, Sheriff, he’s huge. You might wanna bring a deputy or two.”
“Thanks for the heads up. Stay outta sight.”
“I will unless he starts walkin’ towards the horses.”
“Dammit. I understand, but hold back. I’m on my way.”
Dropping the phone back in his pocket, Andy hurried to his gun cabinet, lifted out a rifle and was quickly loading the chamber when he heard the biker call again.
“Hey! Andy Baker! Where the fuck are you? Get out here!”
Andy was hurrying back when he had a thought. Grabbing his phone, he set it to record, then slipping it back in his pocket, he returned to the door. As he peeked around, his heart sank. The burly tough guy was lumbering towards the paddocks.
“Hold it right there,” Andy yelled, stepping out with this rifle raised. “This is private property. Your trespassing. State your business.”
“Hah! Hello, Baker. My name’s Bear.”
“Put your hands in the air where I can see them.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are? A fuckin’ sheriff from the old west?”
“No, but I am a landowner askin’ you to leave his property.”
“The hell with you,” the man bellowed as he began striding towards him.
“I’ll ask you again, leave my ranch.”
“You won’t shoot me. No fuckin’ way. You’ll end up behind bars if you do.”
The tough biker was drawing perilously close, and not about to take any chances, Andy fired at the man’s feet, kicking up the dirt barely inches from his toes.
“Hey, calm the fuck down!” the biker yelled.
“Last chance, get on your bike and head out.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere, not until I deliver a message.”
“I don’t care about your message. Leave! My! Ranch!”
“Not until I take that toy rifle off your hands and really hurt you. First, I’ll snap your shoulders outta place, I’m really good at that, then—”
“That’s the sheriff. He’s here to arrest you for trespassin’,” Andy shouted as the sound of approaching sirens filled the air.
“Who the fuck is trespassin’?”
“You are. I have asked you to leave several times and you haven’t.”
“Oh, yeah? And how the fuck will you prove that?”
“I don’t make empty threats.”
“You assaulted a friend of mine, now I’m going to assault you…and you’ll end up in a fuckin’ hospital bed.”
“What friend?”
“Her name’s Erin.”
“I didn’t assault her, I whacked her ass with her crop because she was abusin’ a horse,” Andy growled as the sheriff turned into the driveway and sped forwards with two deputies following.
“On your knees, hands behind your back,” the sheriff yelled, coming to a screeching halt and jumping out from behind the wheel.
“Hey, I haven’t done shit!” the biker yelled back.
“Do it now!” the sheriff bellowed. “Andy, did you ask this man to leave?” he continued as the man clumsily followed the sheriff’s instructions.
“Several times, and he threatened me.”
“Got proof?”
“Sure do,” Andy replied, lifting his phone from his pocket. “It’s all on here.”
“Give me his wallet,” the sheriff demanded as his deputy finished cuffing the tough biker. “Brian West,” he muttered, opening it and seeing the driver’s license. “Okay, Brian West, you’re under arrest for trespassin’, and there’ll be more charges when we get to the station. You can tell me all your excuses when we get there, but you can count on spendin’ the night as my guest. Deputy, read him his rights.”