Page 25 of Steers and Stowaways
His next words were yet more proof of that. “For what it’s worth, I wanted to be wrong about the Silvas. Not sure what you ever saw in them, but I know they’re like family to you.”
“Is that the reason you’ve been refusing to tell me stuff?” So many emotions were zinging through her—regret, betrayal, anger, and no small amount of fear.
“It’s not the only reason.” He shrugged. “I usually reach out to clients only when I have an update about the case.”
Client. Right. Not friends. Not partners in an undercover crime-solving adventure. Not anything personal whatsoever.His words were a reminder that she was nothing more to him than a client. It shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.
As she wrenched her gaze away from him, the barn doors flew open again, and policemen flooded into the room. Lots of them. A dozen. No, more like two dozen. Mallory blinked in consternation, wondering where they’d come from. There was no way a town this size employed that big of a law enforcement team. The policemen were masked, too, which was odd.
To her deepening alarm, Tucker leaped over the steer the two of them had been tending to and shoved her behind one of the water troughs. “Don’t move,” he snarled, throwing himself half on top of her.
Now what?The weight of one long leg settled over her legs, pinning them to the floor. Then he hooked an arm protectively around her head.
She and Tucker fit together better than they should have. The two of them were barely civil to each other, yet he hadn’t hesitated to use his body to shield her. His heart thumped out a steady rhythm between her shoulder blades. Fierce, dependable, and unafraid.
Unlike her own heart, which was galloping a thousand miles per minute like a runaway horse…
She watched one of the police officers wave a pistol in the air. “Everybody on the ground! You’re under arrest!”
Other than Tucker, none of the other Lonestar Security guys were in sight. Conrad Cavender seemed to be missing as well. So were the veterinarians. Mallory’s heart thudded with dread. Had they already been arrested and removed from the barn? She’d been so busy tending to her herd that she hadn’t been paying much attention to what was going on around them.
The police officers scattered around the room, kicking over feed buckets, bales of hay, and wheelbarrows. It was clear they were looking for something.
“Check the loft,” the man with the pistol commanded. He was the only one doing any talking and seemed to be in charge of the others.
Men scurried up the steps and stomped around overhead.
“Nothing up here,” one of them hollered, kicking some hay over the railing.
They’re not real policemen.The truth sank home, chilling Mallory. She was betting they were the narco rustlers, here to collect the rest of their drugs. None of them seemed to realize that the packages they were looking for were hiding in plain sight.
Somebody must have tipped them off to bring them running en masse like this to Mr. Cavender’s town. Whoever it was, however, must have failed to mention the smelly trough in the middle of the room that the packages were resting inside.
Her thoughts circled back to Chip and Cruz. As much as she didn’t want to believe such young guys were capable of something so unconscionable, one or both of them were likely involved. It was the only thing that made sense. She glanced at the metal fence they’d been perched on earlier, but it was empty. Where were they?
“If we stay here, we’re dead,” Tucker grated in her ear. “But I have an idea. When I say run, you run, okay?” He pointed to a door located roughly twenty feet to her right.
She didn’t know what was behind the door, or if it would be unlocked when she got there. Regardless, she squeezed his hand to let him know she understood.
He squeezed back. Then he low-crawled away from her.
Anxious to know what he was up to, she watched him inch closer to the gate of the nearest cattle pen. Her lips moved in a silent prayer that his movements wouldn’t be noticed before he accomplished whatever he was attempting to do.
Doors slammed and men shouted, yanking her attention once again to the other side of the barn. A scuffling match ensued on the floor.
“Well, well, well!” The thug in charge strode across the barn to point his pistol at their writhing prisoner. Two of his accomplices were kicking the ribs of the man on the floor, making him pant and groan. “Tell us where you stashed the packages, old man, and this will all be over.”
Old man?That was when Mallory noticed the white hair of the man they were kicking. Her heart sank at the realization that they were taking their anger out on the aging Dr. Ridley. All for the sin of treating her injured cattle. He didn’t deserve this.
He wheezed out a few words, but she couldn’t make out what he said above the mooing of the frightened cattle and shouts of the gangsters. However, there was no mistaking the deadly intent of his captor as he raised his pistol higher and took aim.
Mallory winced and lowered her head to the floor, unable to watch. Instead of a gunshot, the clang of metal filled her ears. A mighty bovine roar followed.
“Run!” The urgency in Tucker’s voice ricocheted off the rafters.
She yanked her head up in time to watch steers erupt from the nearest pen. Four Lonestar Security team members were swinging lassos and riding crops to drive them forward. She watched them, riveted with fascination.
Her delay in leaping to her feet proved to be a mistake.Pounding hooves thundered her way, cutting off her escape route. In the end, all she had time to do was vault over the edge of the water trough she’d been crouched behind. She cannon-balled into its chilly depths, splashing water everywhere. She threw her hands over her head, certain she was about to get trampled, but the trumpeting cattle surged around the water trough on both sides of her. The floor beneath her vibrated hard enough to rattle her teeth.
