Page 64 of Stilettos and Outlaws

The light turned green, and off we went. I watched Tina until she was out of sight. She hadn’t moved a muscle. My shoulders slumped. Damn.

Miss Kitty rubbed against my face. Meow.

“You’re right. I can’t give up. As fast as I could I wrote Holbrook on the back of my remaining business cards and shoved them through the slot. Would anybody pick one up? God, I hoped so.

The semi-truck made a hard left turn onto a dirt road. I bounced as we hit pothole, after pothole, after pothole.

Bodacious bellowed.

“I know. Pretty scary. I won’t leave you behind. I promise. I just need to figure a way out of this without getting us killed.”

The semi hit the mother of all potholes. I locked my jaws to keep my teeth from being jarred loose. I peered through the slots. No sign of civilization. Just cedar trees dotted the rolling hills.

The semi-truck turned onto another dirt track.

I caught a glimpse of an old, crumbling adobe house surrounded by dead cottonwood trees.

The truck stopped next to some weather-beaten outbuilding. To my utter relief, Max was at the back of a large corral.

A hint of malicious humor in his voice, Bass called, “Honey, we’re home.”

My stomach knotted and I quickly covered Edgar with hay. “Stay.”

“Billie Bob is going to drop the ramp and you’re getting the bull into the corral with the horse. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” Nausea rolled my stomach. Bass radiated a sexual menace that was both frightening and disgusting.

Bass unlocked my handcuffs. “I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”

“And I’m going to take immense pleasure in killing you.”

His mouth drew back into a feral snarl, and he gestured with his gun. “Get the bull in the corral.”

“I need some oats.”

“Get her the oats, Billie Bob.”

“Yes, boss.” He disappeared into the closest outbuilding.

“I think the fastest way to beat the sass out of you is with a whip.”

It took everything I had, not to show any fear. “You won’t live to see tomorrow.”

Billie Bob burst out of the building. “Boss, you’ve got a phone call.”

“Who is it?”

“Dixon. Something about a screw up in the fentanyl shipment.”

Bass snatched the phone out of his hand. “What happened? The fucker did what? We’ll have to hit the train outside of Winslow. I’ll meet you at Smith’s ranch in an hour.”

He stuffed the phone in his pocket and turned his attention to me. “Get the bull in the corral. Now!”

“Back Bodacious. C’mon back up.” To my relief, he obeyed me. Once we reached the end of the ramp, Billie Bob handed me the bucket of oats. “Yummy oats, Bodacious.”

He followed me through the gate.

Max let out a loud whinny and galloped toward us.

---