Page 88 of Wild Mustang Security Firm

“Yeah, she asked Gussy about Roscoe. I’m sure of it.”

“Shit, there’s something very wrong at her place. Everyone needs to head there now. There’s a small side road behind a gate. Open the gate and wait for us. We’re going to want to go in from the side entrance to the ranch as quietly as possible.”

“We’ll be waiting. Do you want us to go without you?”

“If I’m more than ten minutes behind you, then go, but quiet. Real quiet. Gus is her foreman, and no one ever calls him Gussy. And Roscoe is my horse… Gator is hers.”

John had overheard enough to know there was trouble and gathered the men, guns, and vehicles. By the time Mac was off the phone, he was holding the door open for him. Mac sprinted out the door, and the two hopped into a waiting SUV, speeding through the streets of Scottsdale, and joined the detail from the safe house in record time.

Silently, the marshals crept forward through the rear of the barn. Clearing that building, Mac guided them around the hay shed and a group of trees down to the creek and behind the house, coming up under the deck off the bedroom.

They moved through the French doors, clearing the bedroom and bath, and moved onto the main portion of the house. It, too, was empty. Gus was slumped over and tied to a dining room chair, Baez in a similar position, with large goose eggs forming on their temples, but both had strong, regular breathing. Mac smiled as he looked at the knots Willa had used to tie them up. Once either of them had come to, they would have been able to untie themselves instantly.

Baez looked to have a concussion, so an ambulance was called. Gus sponged cool water all over his face.

“Easy, Gus. I’m assuming it was Eastwick?” asked Mac.

“He’s got Willa, Mac. She made a deal with him for Baez and me. He’s going to kill her.”

“Not if we can help it. Any idea where she might have taken him?”

Gus was quiet for a moment, then smiled.

“Yeah, away from civilization. That bastard doesn’t know anything about the wilderness. There’s a small pass leading through the mountains we can check. I’ll bet Willa will find a way to leave us a sign if that’s where she’s gone. Billy Crofton,the next ranch over, is a decent tracker. He’ll be able to follow the tracks. Let’s head to that trail system and see if she left us a marker. If not, we’ll have to depend on Billy to track her. If she used that system, she knows I know it, and we can get ahead of them and set a trap.”

“That’s my Willa. You up for this, Gus?”

“She ain’t just your Willa. She’s been mine a lot longer. I love that girl like she’s my own, and she gave herself up for me.”

Mac sent one of his men to enlist Crofton’s help while they saddled horses. Gus loaded the trailer with three of their best, including Mac’s buckskin. He was going to head to the spot that would allow them to set a trap for Eastwick. He gave the coordinates to Mac and the three marshals, who would wait for the other marshal to return with the tracker. Mac and John took off for the trailhead in the old Jeep Willa kept for rough country.

“We’ll get her, Mac. She’s a smart girl.”

“That she is. I need her to be okay. Why didn’t she let the team know? Why didn’t she try to reach one of us?”

“She’s used to being on her own. Gus is like family to her. Knowing what she knows about Eastwick, I can’t see her doing anything else.”

“She’s going to need to develop an instinct to ask for help.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to encourage that behavior.”

Mac couldn’t help but grin. He had to believe Willa would be all right. When they arrived at the trailhead, they saw it, a recently broken branch. Mac wheeled the Jeep away from the trail and sped as fast as he could to Gus’ position. John called the rest of the team to tell them to close off the trailhead and the only other possible escape route. The broken branch was too high for any animal to have done it.

Willa had left them a sign.

Chapter

Eighteen

Willa rode ahead of Eastwick. Glancing over her shoulder several times, she saw he had the gun trained on her. She kept a steady jog trot and had deliberately put Eastwick on her packhorse, Sadie, who was very beginner-friendly and easygoing but had the world’s most uncomfortable, jarring jog. She kept alert for either a chance to escape or Mac to show up. When the marshals repeated her phone conversation, Mac would know there was trouble at the ranch.

“When we stop for the night, I’m going to make you blow me before you fix my dinner.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“You’re going to give it up that easy?” he sneered.

“What I want is to stay alive. I figure my best chance is to do what you tell me. You have a gun, and you’re not afraid to use it. I might offer the suggestion a fire in an isolated wilderness area is going to be easily spotted at night. If we make camp during the daylight, I fix us something to eat, then douse the fire, it’ll be easier to go undetected. I’ll heat some rocks in the fire, and we’ll use them to keep warm.”

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