Page 40 of Wild Mustang Security Firm

“Always,” replied Mac with a smile.

“Remember that bastard Simon Eastwick from Scottsdale who murdered his wife?”

“The one who strangled her, buried her in the desert, then reported her missing?”

“That’s the one. If it hadn’t been for the coyotes, we’d never have found a body. Well, he’s out on a $2.5 million bail and failed to show up for his court appearance. They’re about ready to add him to the 15 Most Wanted. His passport has been confiscated, but it looks like he’s gone off the radar.”

“We had his assets, right? How far could he go?”

Mac heard a humorless laugh on the other end of the line.

“Oh, you’re going to love this. We think he took off on horseback.”

“Are you kidding?” Mac laughed with genuine amusement. “Of course, you aren’t, or you wouldn’t be calling. Any ideas where he’s headed or if he has any help?”

“No, but if you and your group could give us a hand and help us bring this guy in, I’d be awfully grateful.”

“No problem, John. Let me run it by the suits upstairs, and we’ll be headed your way.”

“Thanks, Mac. I want this guy… bad.”

“We’ll be wheels up within the hour. How long has he been on the run?”

“We’re not sure. He was last seen this afternoon about one our time, two yours.”

Mac glanced at his vintage Rolex—a gift from Willa. “So, at most, he’s been on the run for four hours. It’s about three hours to you. That’s seven hours. Why did you wait so long?”

“We had all of his vehicles, and we thought all of his bank accounts. The local law dogs were keeping as close an eye as we could, but his lawyer has been all over us for harassment. We didn’t realize he’d flown the coop. The only things missing from his place are a couple of horses and some camping gear. We looked for him, but I could use your help. The local guys are having to pull back and trying to distance themselves. If he escapes clean, it’ll turn into a news cycle nightmare. If it becomes public knowledge, we need to be on top of it.”

“I don’t think getting the go-ahead will be difficult, given the notoriety of the case. Unless you hear from me to the contrary, we’ll see you at your office for a briefing in about three-and-a-half hours. We can come up with a game plan and be ready to ride or to roll at first light.”

“I owe you, Mac.”

“No worries, John. If you bring me one of Mandy’s homemade meatloaf sandwiches, we’ll call it even.”

John laughed, this time, laced with humor. “You have yourself a deal. See you later.”

Mac hung up the phone, cleared the operation with the higher-ups, and called his men. They were on the plane assigned to them within thirty minutes.

Willa managed to settle the herd, so both she and Gator could get some much-needed rest. She would head to the old stagecoach stop in a few hours, ensuring the men who might have followed her would have given way to the heat and retired from the field, then she and Gator would mosey back to pick up her other horse and gear. She’d be able to make better time when she returned since, by that time, the sun and its accompanying heat would have begun to abate for the day.

Doing so meant setting up in the dusk and pre-dark, but it would be easier on her horses. Her plan was to set up the skeleton of the lean-to and small corral for her own horses before she headed out. That way, there would be less to do when she returned this evening.

Once she figured enough time had elapsed, and she had accomplished the tasks she had set for herself, Willa resaddled Gator, swung up, and headed out. Glancing toward the stallion and his mares, she smiled. She’d like to think he knew she was trying to help, but she’d settle for knowing he didn’t see her as a threat.

Willa was careful to leave the canyon entrance behind the waterfall surreptitiously, ensuring no one could see her exit. She set off at an easy, ground-covering trot along the trail, then across open range. Several hours later, Willa reached Tortilla Flats and checked in. Mandy assured her their next scheduled expedition was in two weeks, and she had everything under control.

“So, if I need to catch up with you, boss lady, are you going to be reachable?”

“Maybe.” Willa smiled. Mandy knew her far too well. “I’m going to doing some riding.”

Mandy laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Mandy knew better than to pursue that line of questioning. If Willa was doing some riding, it usually meant she was skirting the legalities of something to do with saving her beloved mustangs. The two women had been friends and worked together for more than seven years. Willa was respectful of John’s husband’s job and tried to ensure anything she did would not compromise either of them.

Having made sure everything was under control, Willa bundled all of her gear onto her packhorse.

“Excuse me? Excuse me miss?” a young woman about her age called to her.

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