Cowboy Above the Law Read online

  Rayna knew him. His name was Dustin Mendoza. A friend of Bobby Joe’s. Of course, pretty much every man in McCall Canyon in their midthirties fell into that particular category.

  “No,” Rayna repeated.

  She figured Court was about to do some repeating as well and insist that she go. He didn’t. “I’ll drive Rayna to the hospital. I need to ask her some more questions about the break-in.”

  Dustin didn’t wait around to see if that was okay with her. He motioned for his partner to leave, and they started back for the ambulance.

  “I also think you should consider protective custody,” Court said to her. “The intruder obviously knows how to get in your house, and he could come back.”

  That had already occurred to Rayna, but it chilled her to the bone to hear someone say it.

  “You can stay with me,” Whitney suggested. “In fact, I can take you to the hospital.”

  It was generous of Whitney, and Rayna was about to consider accepting, but Court spoke before she could say anything. “That could be dangerous. For Whitney. If this intruder is still after you, he could go to her place while looking for you.”

  That drained some of the color from Whitney’s face. Obviously, it wasn’t something she’d considered when she’d made the offer.

  “It’s okay,” Rayna assured her. “I can make other plans.”

  She didn’t know what exactly those plans would be, but she might have to hire a bodyguard. And put some distance between her and the McCalls. Whatever was going on seemed to be connected to them. Rayna didn’t think it was a coincidence about the timing of Warren’s attack, the break-in and the dead woman.

  Egan finally finished his call, and the moment he turned to walk toward them, Rayna knew something was wrong.

  “Is it Dad?” Court immediately asked.

  Egan shook his head. “It’s the waitress. Janet Bolin. She’s dead. Someone murdered her.”

  Chapter Three

  Another murder. Two women killed only hours apart. There was no way Court could dismiss them as not being connected.

  But connected to what?

  Rayna. His father. Or maybe both.

  He put on a clean shirt that he took from his locker and thought about that possible connection while he made his way back into the squad room, where Rayna was waiting. Or rather where she was pacing. He nearly reminded her that she should probably be sitting down. That was what the doctor had wanted anyway when he’d come to the sheriff’s office to examine her. Rayna wasn’t having any part of that though. And he couldn’t blame her. It was hard to sit still with all this restless energy bubbling up inside him.

  “Anything?” she asked the moment she saw him.

  Court took a deep breath that sounded as weary as he felt. “There’s no gunshot residue on your hands.” He’d swabbed her hands as soon as they’d gotten to the sheriff’s office but hadn’t been able to run the test right away because of all the other calls.

  And changing his shirt.

  Court had figured he’d worn his father’s blood long enough and no longer wanted it in his sight.

  Rayna didn’t huff, but it was close. “Tell me something I don’t know. Of course there wasn’t gunshot residue on my hands, because I didn’t fire a gun.”

  He almost pointed out that she could have cleaned up afterward, but plain and simple, that probably hadn’t happened. And it wouldn’t explain how she’d gotten all those wounds. So, Court did as Rayna asked and gave her something she almost certainly didn’t know.

  “Janet was killed with a single shot to the head at point-blank range. Her body was in the alley behind the diner, and it doesn’t appear as if she was moved after she was shot. No ID yet on the other woman.”

  But the two had something in common. There’d been no defensive wounds, which meant their killer had gotten close enough to deliver the fatal shots without alarming the women.

  “No one in or around the diner heard the shot?” she pressed.

  “No. But she had her purse, and Pete, the cook, said she had three more hours on her shift. She didn’t have a cell phone on her, but maybe she’d made arrangements to meet someone.”

  And that someone had killed her.

  That could mean Janet was in on his father’s shooting. Or maybe she’d just been duped into taking the photo that had almost certainly been meant to frame Rayna.

  “There aren’t any surveillance cameras back there,” Court added. That pretty much applied to most of the town. Simply put, there hadn’t been much need for them.

  Until now, that was.

  There’d been only two murders in the past ten years. A drunken brawl at the local bar and Bobby Joe’s. But now they had two unsolved homicides, an attempted murder, breaking and entering, and an assault. It was no wonder Egan had been tied up in the past three hours. His brother was at the first murder scene, and that was why Court had been manning the phones along with keeping an eye on Rayna.

  Court hadn’t mentioned it yet, but she was now a key witness, since she might be able to recall something about the man who’d attacked her. She was almost certainly in grave danger, as well.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Rayna mumbled.

  It was something she’d said multiple times after Court had insisted that she come to the sheriff’s office. Well, first he’d tried to talk her into going to the hospital, and when he’d failed at that, he’d brought her here instead. It was far better than her being at Whitney’s, and both Rayna and she had finally agreed on that. Rayna had also agreed on the doctor seeing her.

  “How are your ribs and your head?” Court asked.

  “Fine,” she answered, practically waving off his concern.

  But he knew there had to be some pain. The doctor didn’t think her ribs were broken, but there was a deep bruise, and a second one on her head where the intruder had hit her.

  “The doctor drew blood,” she added, rubbing the inside of her arm. “Whatever the thug slammed into me might still be in my system.”

  Yeah, but it might not give them any new info to catch him. Still, it was something they needed to know so they could make sure it didn’t have any serious side effects.

  He tipped his head toward Egan’s office, which was just off the squad room. “There’s a semicomfortable chair in there. Some bottled water, too. You could sit and wait while I call the lab and push them to get an ID on the first woman.”

  Rayna stopped pacing and made eye contact with him. “You’re being nice to me.”

  Was he? Court lifted his shoulder. “I just figured we could call a truce and try to get through this hellish day.”

  Rayna kept staring at him a moment before she nodded and headed for the office. Court was right behind her, but he glanced around the squad room first to make sure all was well. There was only one other deputy, Thea Morris, who was taking a statement from another waitress who worked at the diner. The other four deputies were out at their three crime scenes.

  “If you want to go to the hospital to see your dad,” Rayna said, “please do. I know you’d rather be with him.”

  He would. But his father was still unconscious, so there was nothing Court could do. Plus, his mom, Helen, and his sister, Rachel, were there. Along with a Texas Ranger, Griff Morris, who Warren had practically raised. He was like family, and he’d call Court if there were any changes in his father’s condition. Or if any more trouble surfaced. Right now, Court would do his dad more good by trying to figure out who’d put that bullet in him.

  “You don’t have to babysit me,” Rayna added.

  He did indeed have to do just that, and Court didn’t bother to pull any punches when he looked at her.

  “Oh,” she said, and Rayna looked even more unsteady when she sank into the chair across from the desk.

  “It’s not personal,” he added because he thought t
hat might help. Help who exactly, Court didn’t know. It certainly felt personal. And it couldn’t. He couldn’t let their past—either the good or the bad parts—play into this.

  He made the call to the lab, promptly got put on hold, so while he was waiting, Court took a copy of her statement that he’d printed out and passed it to her.

  “Look this over and try to fill in any gaps in details,” he instructed. “For instance, do you remember hearing the sound of a vehicle when your attacker fled?”

  “No.” Rayna sounded steady enough when she said that, but when Court gave her a closer look, he saw that she was blinking back tears. Waving them off, too, when she realized he’d noticed.

  “I hate this,” she said. “I’ve spent three years rebuilding my life, and now it feels as if it’s falling apart again.”

  Court had no idea how to respond to that, so he stayed quiet, fished out a box of tissues from the bottom drawer and passed them to her.

  “I took self-defense classes,” she went on. “Firearms training. I installed a security system and don’t go anywhere without a gun. Except here, of course.”

  He would have liked to have told her there was no need for one here, that she was under the roof with two deputies, but since his father had been shot just yards from here, he doubted his words would give her much assurance. Plus, there was the part about her not trusting him.

  “You did all of that because you were afraid of Bobby Joe returning?” Court tried to keep his tone neutral. They already had enough battles to fight without his adding some disbelief to that.

  “Not afraid,” Rayna said in a whisper. “I wanted to be able to stop him if he came after me again. I learned the hard way that I can’t rely on others to help me with that.”

  Court couldn’t help himself. It was a knee-jerk reaction, but he went on the offensive, something he usually did with Rayna. “I arrested Bobby Joe after you’d had enough of him and decided to press charges,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, and he spent less than an hour in jail. After that, he threatened to kill me, stormed out and then faked his death to set me up.”

  If that had truly happened, then Court felt bad that he hadn’t been able to do more. But that was a big if. Most folks had liked Bobby Joe and gotten along with him just fine.

  Court wasn’t one of those folks.

  Bobby Joe and he had always seemed to be bristling at each other. Maybe because Rayna and Court had dated through most of high school. Bobby Joe could have been jealous, and Court figured his own bristling stemmed from the fact that Rayna had crushed his heart when she’d broken up with him.

  But that was water under a very old bridge.

  “Are you ever going to at least consider that Bobby Joe could be alive?” Rayna asked.

  He didn’t have to figure out what his answer would be because Clyde Selby, the lab guy, finally came back on the line. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Clyde said. “I wanted to see what we had on the second woman before I spoke to you. Anyway, the first woman, the blonde, is Hallie Ramon. She is, was, a college student. She was in the system because of a drug arrest when she was eighteen. But she didn’t have any gunshot residue on her hands, so I don’t think she’s the one who shot your dad.”

  Court felt the slam of disappointment. Whoever had done this was still out there.

  He immediately pulled up everything he had on her. There wasn’t much. No record other than the drug possession. The woman was twenty-four and didn’t even have a traffic ticket. But then something caught his eye.

  “She was a drama student.” Court hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but it certainly caught Rayna’s attention.

  She moved to the edge of her seat. Court hated to disappoint her, but there likely wouldn’t be anything else from the lab. Any new info now would come from working the case, and that meant talking to Hallie’s friends to find out how she was connected to what had happened in McCall Canyon.

  “You mentioned the second woman,” Court prompted Clyde.

  “Yes. Janet Bolin. Egan sent me her prints, and there’s no match for her. Don’t know who she is because unlike the first woman, she’s not in the system. No driver’s license, nothing.”

  Court groaned. That meant she’d lied when she’d applied for the waitress job. Had probably even used a fake ID. That was going to make it a whole lot harder. Because until they knew who she was, they wouldn’t be able to figure out how she was connected to this.

  “Is she here?” someone yelled. “I want to see her now!”

  Court instantly recognized the voice and knew this would be trouble. It was Mitch Hawley, Bobby Joe’s brother. And the she that he was yelling about was almost certainly Rayna.

  She got right up out of the chair and whirled to face Mitch. And not just face him. She went straight out into the squad room. If she was the least bit afraid of him, she didn’t show it.

  But she should have.

  Unlike Bobby Joe, Mitch was not well liked, and he had a nasty temper. Court had had to arrest him on several occasions for fighting. That was why Court hurried to get between them. He didn’t mind arresting Mitch again, but he didn’t want the man hitting Rayna. Mitch was a big guy, around six-two, and he was heavily muscled. A build that suited him because he worked with rodeo bulls, but his fists could do a lot of damage.

  “Why isn’t she locked up?” Mitch snarled.

  “Because I haven’t done anything wrong,” Rayna answered.

  “Right. You killed my brother, and now you shot his dad.” His gaze flew to Court. “Please tell me you’re not covering for her.”

  “No need. There’s no GSR on her, and at the time of the shooting, someone was attacking her. What do you know about that?”

  That put some fire in Mitch’s already fiery brown eyes. “Are you accusing me of something?”

  “Not at the moment. Right now, I’m asking a question. Depending on how you answer it, I’ll make an accusation or not.”

  Rayna shook her head, maybe asking Court not to fight her battles, but he wasn’t. With everything else going on, he hadn’t had time to work on who’d attacked Rayna, but because of their history, Mitch was an automatic suspect.

  “No. I didn’t go after her. Didn’t have anything to do with this hell-storm that hit town today.” Mitch snapped toward Rayna as if ready to return some verbal fire, but he stopped, smiled. “Looks like somebody worked you over good.”

  “Was it you who did it?” Court pressed, getting Mitch’s attention back on him.

  The man had to get his teeth unclenched before he could speak. “No. I wouldn’t waste my time on a killer. But I can’t believe you’d just let her walk. She had motive to shoot your father.”

  “Yeah, and so do you,” Court reminded him. “In fact, I seem to remember you pressing my dad and the rest of us to put Rayna behind bars. We did, and she was acquitted. End of story.”

  “No, hell, no. It’s not the end.” He flung his index finger in her direction. “If she’s capable of killing my brother, she’s capable of anything.”

  “Apparently not,” Rayna spoke up. “I’m not capable of convincing anyone that not guilty means I didn’t do it.” She spared Court a glance to let him know he fell into that category, too.

  “Because you bought off the jury or something. I begged Warren to try to reopen the case against you—”

  “There’s no case to reopen,” Court interrupted. He was getting a glimpse of what Rayna had been dealing with for the past three years. “She can’t be tried again because that’s double jeopardy.”

  “Then find something else. Conspiracy or tampering with evidence.” Mitch paused only long enough to curse. “Next week is the third anniversary of my brother’s murder, and no one has paid for that.”

  And no one might pay. Court kept that to himself though. Simply put, Rayna had been their one and only suspect.


  “Why’d you go to my father with all of this?” Court asked.

  Mitch huffed, clearly annoyed with that question. “I went to him because I don’t get anywhere with Egan and you, that’s why. I figured I could get him to sway you into doing something. Warren told me to let it go. To get a life. Can you believe that?”

  Yeah, he could. Warren could be steel-hard and cold. Even though his father hated that Rayna had been acquitted, he hated even more that Mitch was blaming the McCalls for that.

  Mitch rubbed his head. “I can’t let it go. I keep dreaming about Bobby Joe. Nightmares. It’s as if he’s trying to tell me from the grave to get justice for him.” He looked up, blinked, the expression of a man who felt he’d maybe said too much. Or maybe Mitch just hadn’t wanted them to hear the raw emotion that was still in his voice.

  “There is no new evidence to charge Rayna with anything,” Court said. “Not Bobby Joe’s murder and not my father’s shooting.”

  “Then you’re not looking hard enough,” Mitch snarled. His face hardened. “And she’s responsible for that. She’s got you convinced that she’s the same girl you loved back in high school. Well, she’s not.”

  Mitch moved his hand toward Rayna as if he might take hold of her, but Court snagged his wrist.

  “It’s time for you to go,” he warned him.

  Mitch threw off Court’s grip with far more force than necessary. “You should have known she’d pull something like shooting your dad. The signs were there. Even Janet said so.”

  Court pulled back his shoulders. “Janet?”

  “Yeah, the new waitress at the diner across the street. I was in there earlier this week...” Mitch stopped. He must have realized Rayna’s and Court’s expressions had changed.

  “What did Janet say about me?” Rayna demanded.

  Some of that fire started to cool a bit, and Mitch got quiet for several long moments. “She knew a lot about you. About what’d happened with Bobby Joe. She asked me questions about it.”