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The Millionaire Cowboy's Secret Page 7
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After the vets climbed into their pickup truck and drove off, Matt went to speak with the fire chief. On the way there, he spotted the sheriff’s cruiser, which meant most likely the fire had been arson.
Hell, he thought, scratching his head, what else could it have been? There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could have caused such a blaze.
After talking with the fire department—who strongly agreed with Skylar’s assessment of arson—and answering the sheriff’s questions, he and the remaining stable hands finally got all the mares put into either stalls or small runs with three-sided enclosures. That’d have to do until he could rebuild.
Spraying more water on what had now become smoldering embers, the fire department continued to work. They weren’t going anywhere until they were sure no hot spots remained.
Stumbling up to the house, banking a simmering fury that threatened to blaze up inside him, Matt focused on ordinary details. He made a mental note to call the insurance company later. Next up, he wanted a shower. He couldn’t wait to wash away the soot and grim and acrid odor of smoke. And then he figured he’d better eat something before he began what promised to be a very long day.
He made it up three of his patio steps when a figure detached itself from the shadows and stepped in front of him.
Instinctively he dropped into a battle stance.
“It’s only me.” Skylar’s husky voice didn’t sound the least bit apologetic.
Relaxing slightly, he exhaled and dipped his chin in acknowledgment. Eyeing her, he couldn’t help wondering how on earth she still managed to look so gorgeous and sexy after a few hours straight from hell. “What are you doing here? I’d have thought you’d be on your second or third cup of coffee by now.”
“I had enough.” Dropping one slender shoulder in a graceful shrug, she studied him. “I took another shower and saw you staggering across the yard. I came to see if I could help you with anything else. You look awful.”
“Thanks. I feel pretty crappy.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he wasn’t surprised to find soot on his fingers. “Though I appreciate your offer, I’ve done all I can for now. I’m running on fumes. I need to go take a shower and get some breakfast. I suggest you do the same.”
Opening her mouth as though she were about to speak, she apparently thought better of it. “All righty, then. See you later,” she said, giving him a small, jaunty wave as she strolled away.
Despite his exhaustion, part of him stood at attention as he watched her go. Where she got her energy, he didn’t know. As for him, he was done in.
Turning, he went inside, heading straight to a hot shower, dropping his filthy clothes in a heap on the floor. After a hot shower, he made a quick trip to the kitchen, where he grabbed a steaming mug of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal.
He’d barely finished eating before sound from outside had him pushing away his plate. Standing, he took a deep breath. As he did, the enormity of what had happened hit him.
Moving toward the window, his entire body sore and aching, he grimaced. Another kink in his plan, he thought, realizing there would have to be an investigation. His ranch would be crawling with law-enforcement and fire department personnel, as well as insurance adjusters and investigators. There’d be no deals with Diego Rodriguez or anyone else for a few weeks at least.
“Damn,” he cursed. All his carefully laid plans were now in freakin’ ashes, just like his barn.
Whoever had done this had to have known what would happen. This would not only put a damper on his ability to con Diego Rodriguez into believing he wanted to sell him ammo, but the delay would play exactly into ATF’s hands, giving them a better chance to catch him red-handed, selling ammunition to the Mexicans.
* * *
After she left Matt, Skylar wandered back to her trailer. She greeted an agitated and confused Talia, put her on a leash and then went outside. She sat on the steps, watching the sunrise and waiting to see the full extent of the damage. The air, which should have smelled of grass and horses, was still tainted by smoke.
She felt restless, lonely and aching. Normally, thinking of the happy life she’d once had brought on this kind of melancholy. But this time, she hadn’t been thinking of her husband and son. She’d been thinking about Matt and the beautiful, terrified horses.
She’d experienced all kinds of evil in her career, first as a police officer and then as a federal agent. She thought she’d grown a thick shell, able to unflinchingly experience the various malevolent wickedness of humanity.
Except for children and animals. Innocents who couldn’t protect themselves had no place in the immoral battles of evil men.
She’d reviewed the case files and gone over every possible scenario, from the cartel guys swarming the ranch with guns blazing to Matt trying to run a truck full of ammo secretly into Mexico.
What she hadn’t foreseen was the possibility that they’d attack the horses. Again the scene replayed in her mind—the terrified animals, the panicked screams of the stallion, and the fire, brutal and uncaring and swift.
Skylar took her oath to protect and uphold the law seriously. She would have died trying to get the horses out. In fact, she could have died. Only by the capricious grace of fate had she been able to escape unscathed.
Matt had been the only person there who’d shared her exact same determination. And while she intellectually knew that most men were complex and had many sides, for the first time she couldn’t reconcile the two. How could a man who cared so much for his horses be involved with the brutal Mexican drug cartels?
While she was an old hand at working undercover, never before had the lines been so blurred. Usually, it was pretty easy to tell the bad guy from the good. And while even villains had their reasons and never seemed to view themselves as evil, she’d always been able to spot them a mile away.
Not this time. José, maybe. But Matt? The more she was around him, the more difficult it was to imagine him doing something like selling munitions to the Mexican cartel with full knowledge of what they’d do with the bullets.
As an ATF agent and, more specifically, as a grieving wife and mother, she knew exactly what kind of harm bullets could do. This was one of the reasons she’d left the police force to work for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms.
Sighing, she shifted her weight on the bottom step. Talia whined, her brown gaze fixed on her mistress. Absently, Skylar scratched the dog’s neck, letting her pet know not to worry. With a sigh, the border collie sank to the ground and, resting her head on her paws, dozed.
Once again, Skylar experienced the gut-wrenching pain of losing her son. She blinked, trying not to remember the sight of his still, small body covered in blood. At that moment—hell, at any moment—if she’d been able to change places and die in his place, she would have.
As her eyes filled with tears, she clenched her teeth. Focus. Focus. She had a job to do and she’d damn well do it right. If Matt Landeta truly was guilty of selling ammunition illegally to the Mexicans, she’d make the bust. No matter how much she liked him.
As the sun rose higher in the cloudless sky, Skylar tried to puzzle out the problem. She couldn’t afford a mistake with potentially the biggest bust of her career.
So what was wrong? Ever since the bank holdup that had robbed her of everything, she’d made a habit of being brutally honest with herself. She wouldn’t change that now.
She zeroed in on the one aberration. Her attraction to Matt. This had taken her by surprise. Clearly, she hadn’t planned to find him so...desirable. Unlike with his friend José, she couldn’t make herself see him in the role of villain.
What she could make herself see him as was her lover.
Shocked, blindsided by the heretical thought, she gasped out loud. She hadn’t taken a lover since Robbie had died, and the idea that she could even think of having sex again with a man who wasn’t her husband felt like the worst kind of betrayal.
Once again, despite the fact that she’d eventually
stopped the therapy, she could hear her therapist reminding her that she was only human. Her body had needs and she could only suppress them for so long. Eventually, she’d have to live again.
While she knew this objectively, for so long she’d taken to regarding herself as only a police officer, then an ATF agent. Not as a woman.
Dropping her head into her hands, she inhaled the air, still laden with smoke and water and soot, and quietly wept.
Then, calling herself several kinds of fool, she got up. Calling Talia, she climbed the steps and went inside the trailer, undressed and climbed into bed. As if a nap would fix what was wrong with her.
She lay there unmoving, wide-awake, as sunshine claimed the sky. Finally, sometime after noon, she dropped into a restless slumber, her beloved dog on the bed next to her.
The sound of knocking woke her. Talia barked, jumping to the floor and standing guard at the door. Blearily sitting up in bed, Skylar rubbed at her heavy eyes and glanced at the clock.
“Two-thirty?” That couldn’t be right. She hadn’t slept that late in years.
Again someone banged on her door, this time with a bit more urgency. Now she understood why—she’d overslept.
“Hang on,” she said loudly, readjusting the giant Dallas Cowboys T-shirt she slept in.
Figuring she looked presentable for someone who had, only seconds before, been dead asleep, she opened the door, blinking at the bright sunshine.
Matt. Of course. He frowned up at her, his beautiful blue eyes full of worry.
Damn. How did the man manage to look so fantastic after the ordeal they’d just been through? She swallowed hard. “You look good,” she blurted, mentally wincing. “I mean, considering...”
His mouth twitched, but to his credit, he didn’t laugh. “Thanks,” he said gravely. “Did I, er, wake you?”
Briefly she thought about lying and saying no, but since it was so painfully obvious that he had, she nodded. “I got up so early this morning that I took a nap for a few hours.”
“Sorry.” His gaze roamed over her, making her conscious that she wore nothing underneath the T-shirt.
Her body reacted. She crossed her arms in defense. Beside her, tail wagging, Talia tried her best to get outside to greet Matt.
“I think your dog needs to go outside,” he pointed out.
“I’ll take care of that.”
He smiled, and her body clenched up tight in response. “Let her out. I’ll watch her.”
She stepped aside without a word. Talia barreled past her, but instead of running to the grass, she leaped on Matt, sending him staggering backward. “Talia,” she said sharply. “Go to the bathroom.”
The border collie, ever obedient, trotted off to do exactly that.
Matt moved back to the edge of the trailer steps, still staring. Was that heat she saw in his gaze? Surely not. She knew for a fact she didn’t look at all good first thing after waking up.
“Um, what did you need?”
He blinked, as though she’d brought him back to the present. “The police are here. They’ve got me rounding up anyone who might have seen anything. They want to ask you a few questions.”
“Of course.” She wished she’d taken the time to drag a comb through her hair. “I’ll need a few minutes to brush my teeth and get dressed.”
“Take your time.” Glancing at his watch, he took a step back just as Talia returned to the trailer. “José is on his way back here from his place in town, and the police are still interviewing the stable hands. Just come on up to the house when you’re ready.”
Nodding, she shut the door in his face. Her legs felt weak, so she sank back onto the bed. Beside her, Talia whined.
“It’s okay, baby girl,” she said, pulling the dog close and burying her face in Talia’s soft fur. “Let’s get you some breakfast.”
While Talia ate, Skylar jumped in the shower and took care of her normal morning tasks. She put on a light dusting of mineral powder, mascara and lip gloss. Dressing in jeans and a muted yellow T-shirt, she studied herself with a critical eye and decided she looked okay. Before she spoke to the local police, she needed to make a report.
Using her secure cell phone, she phoned in. A special voice-mail box had been set up for her to leave simple updates. She did, relaying the fire and the fact that she’d be speaking with local authorities.
Once she’d concluded the call, she took Talia out once more. After she’d made sure her dog would have plenty of water, she closed her up in the camper and headed to Matt’s house.
The men wearing uniforms were laid-back but businesslike, impressing her with their efficient questions. No, she hadn’t seen anything suspicious. Yes, she’d smelled something that might have been used to start the fire, though she had no idea what that might have been. They finished with asking her to supply her address and phone number in case they had any further questions.
Through it all, she was super conscious of Matt leaning in the door frame, listening to her answers.
José arrived a few minutes after she’d finished, and when the police began questioning him, Skylar moved off to stand next to Matt.
“I heard from the arson investigator,” he said.
“Already?” She was surprised. In her experience such findings usually took a few days.
“He’s not busy,” he explained. “He used to work for Dallas Fire and Rescue, but retired and moved down here. Now he volunteers whenever he’s needed. This is the first time they’ve had to call him.”
“What did he find out?”
“Arson.” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Someone really wanted to hurt my horses.”
“And hurt you, too,” she said, instinctively touching his arm. When she saw the way his gaze darkened as he followed her movement, she hurriedly removed her hand.
“Do you have any idea why?” she asked softly, wondering what, if anything, he’d choose to reveal.
“No.” Of course, he gave away nothing.
Before she could comment, José called his name, waving him over.
“Excuse me,” he said and left her without another word.
Watching him go, she kept her expression pleasant. What had she expected? Him to open up about his enemies?
Slipping from the room, she headed back to her trailer to spend some quality time with her dog. After that, she’d best get busy concocting some sort of plan.
A quick game of ball helped relieve some of the tension. Up at the main house, she saw Matt and José emerge. She watched, game forgotten, as the two men climbed into the pickup and drove away. Her heart began to race. This would be her opportunity to search the house. Since the police and fire department were still questioning people and milling around, all of the household help would be distracted and preoccupied.
There couldn’t be a more perfect opportunity.
Locking Talia back in the trailer, she made herself walk normally, as though she had forgotten something and needed to talk to the authorities again. As far as she knew, Matt never locked the back door, so she went through the patio, unable to keep from smiling at the lush scenery.
Once inside, she noted Matt had left the curtains open, allowing lots of light to flood in. Grateful, she did a quick search in the kitchen, still experiencing that gut-wrenching reaction of coming home. This time, better prepared, she didn’t bother to try to analyze the feeling, but continued her methodical search.
What exactly she hoped to find, she didn’t know. Something—anything—that might give her a clue as to where he kept the ammo stored or his reason for purchasing such large quantities.
Part of her—a tiny, really idiotic part—hoped to find something that would exonerate him.
She made quick work out of checking the kitchen and moved on to the den. This room also had few hiding places and she didn’t really expect to find anything there.
Matt’s study or office or bedroom—now, that was another matter. She guessed he probably had a safe and would keep any important papers there. I
f she found a safe, she’d be out of luck; she lacked the necessary skills to crack it. Plus, she hated to do anything without a warrant, as any evidence she found would be inadmissible in court.
In reality, she knew this search was probably a pointless waste of time, but she had to make the attempt. If she found something, she’d get the necessary warrant then.
After all, she had to have something proactive to put in her report.
Finished with the downstairs part of the house, she moved quietly to the stairs. Outside, the sun was still strong and she knew she’d need to stay away from windows, as she’d present a clear figure to anyone outside.
Upstairs there were several bedrooms. She did a cursory search of all three before moving on to what had to be Matt’s personal office.
A desk, empty of clutter, revealed nothing. As she suspected, she located a small wall safe behind a Western landscape painting, but the lock wasn’t engaged and the door sat open a half inch. The inside of the safe was empty.
The rest of the office turned up nothing. Glancing at her watch, she realized she’d burned through an hour. She still had Matt’s bedroom to search, so she’d better get a move on.
Crossing the hall, she hesitated in front of the only room she hadn’t visited. Strangely reluctant—this felt like a violation of the worst kind—she took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Immediately, his scent assaulted her. She found it odd that she could smell him so intensely—the scent wasn’t cologne or aftershave, but rather a personal mixture of spearmint and the grassy fields.
Shaking off her nervousness, she crossed to his nightstand and pulled open the door.
“Looking for something?” Matt drawled from less than a foot away.
Chapter 6
Skylar nearly jumped out of her skin. She even, to her complete and utter embarrassment, let a little scream escape, totally involuntary and completely unbefitting a seasoned law-enforcement officer.
Crap. Busted. This was not good. Not good at all.
“What are you doing here?” she asked lamely, her heart pounding. She felt flushed due to all the blood rushing to her head.