Rodeo Standoff. Susan Sleeman

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СКАЧАТЬ I’ll be.” The words drew out in his deep Texan drawl. “Why steal a bull just to leave it at the arena when it was scheduled to be delivered to the pens there anyway? Truck and trailer there, too?”

      “I haven’t been outside since I laid eyes on the bull, but I’ll check it out before I process the scene.”

      “I don’t much cotton to such a high-dollar theft in my county, so take your time and don’t miss a thing. Matt’s at the rest area and will handle things until you get there.”

      She was glad her brother, a county detective, caught the case instead of the other detective on staff, as Matt had a better case-closure rate.

      “Go ahead and look for that truck and trailer before heading out here, too,” her father added.

      She was about to hang up when Braden came toe-to-toe with her and grabbed her phone. “Sheriff McKade.”

      She tried to retrieve her phone, but Braden spun, keeping it out of her grasp. “Looks like King Slammer was put here to injure your daughter.”

      “Who is this?” she heard her father demand.

      Braden identified himself and added that he was a police detective in Austin. “I want to accompany her to the rest area, but law enforcement professionals often refuse to believe they need help. I thought maybe you could convince her to let me escort her.” He listened carefully, then handed the phone to her. “He wants to talk to you.”

      She put the cell to her ear. “Dad.”

      “Listen, Tessa. You may be a grown woman, but don’t think that means you can purposely avoid telling me about something like this. You hear me, girl?”

      “Yes, Dad.” She wanted to stand up for herself, but she wouldn’t engage in a personal argument with Braden standing close by. She could and did glare at him for snatching her phone, though. He simply peered at her with a blank expression as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

      “Braden Hayes is going to accompany you to the rest area,” her father continued. “And I’ll be meeting you there, too.”

      “Dad, I don’t need anyone to watch over—”

      “Hold it right there, Peanut. You need the family’s help and, right now, Braden’s, too. And I want to meet the man and shake his hand. If he hadn’t come along...” His voice broke.

      His obvious concern for her safety put her closer to crying than anything that had happened since seeing the bull pawing at the ground right in front of her.

      “I’ll see you as soon as I’m done here,” she managed to mutter through a throat that was closing and ended the call.

      She stowed her phone and glared at Braden. “You had no right to do that.”

      “Easy, darlin’,” he said, his words languid and low. “Or you’re likely to rush off into danger, just the opposite of what your father and I want.”

      She couldn’t handle that he’d aligned himself with her dad on this issue, but arguing with such a mule-headed man wouldn’t do any good. She headed for Harley, breathing deep to ward off tears of frustration that would make her look like a frightened girl instead of a strong deputy.

      Harley stared at his phone in his hand as if willing it to ring. “Call went to Ernie’s voice mail. I’m hoping he’ll get right back to me.”

      She told him about King Slammer’s theft. “If Ernie’s out at the rest area when I get there, I’ll ask him to call you.”

      Harley nodded as Braden joined them.

      Still upset over the way he’d butted in where he had no business going, she ignored him. “I’ll take a look for the missing truck and trailer, then grab my supplies and process the crime scene before heading out.”

      “Crime scene?” Harley’s voice squeaked high. “Now wait a minute, Tessa. There’s been no crime committed here.”

      “Someone cut the lock at the gate and a stolen bull was left to stampede an innocent woman,” Braden said, his tone deadly serious. “Where I’m from, we call that a crime.”

      * * *

      Tessa stormed ahead of Braden. They’d been walking the blocks surrounding the arena, looking for the truck and trailer for some time now, and she didn’t hide her anger very well. He’d have to be an idiot not to see she was mad at him for taking her phone to talk to her father. He shouldn’t have done it, but come on. She needed someone to have her back right now, so he’d taken on that responsibility. If that meant invading her personal space and overstepping his bounds, so be it. Keeping her safe came first for him.

      He planned to apologize. Just not at the moment. Now he needed to keep his eyes and ears open for any additional threats.

      “Doesn’t look like we’re going to find the truck, so time to move on.” She spun and marched back toward the arena.

      They passed the barn that would soon house contestants’ horses, then crossed the street to the large parking lot surrounding the building on three sides. On the backside, outdoor pens connected to gates leading to the chutes where bulls and broncs would enter the arena. A sign saying Danger Bulls, Stay Back hung from the fence. Tessa breezed right past it without a hitch in her step, but the irony wasn’t lost on him.

      She stopped at a full-size pickup and reached into the jump seat to pull out a tote bag and a case that resembled a large fishing tackle box before returning to the chute still holding King Slammer.

      Braden watched her for a moment as she squatted by the cut padlock dangling from a thick chain. He enjoyed the way she attacked her job with the same intensity he felt for his work. Her gaze didn’t seem to hold as many questions as it had in the past, and in the years, she seemed to have grown stronger. Even more attractive than her understated beauty.

      He was drawn closer to her and would love to know more about her. For now, he’d stick with quizzing her about her job. “Do you always carry forensic items in your truck?”

      “Basic stuff, yeah.” She flipped open the hard-sided case. “When I’m on call, I often need to go straight to a scene and don’t always have time to pick up the county vehicle.”

      Braden nodded. He stayed on alert, his senses attentive to any unexpected noise or flash of light, but he let his eyes follow a soaring red-tailed hawk swooping over the open-air arena built in the 1930s. The bird’s terracotta-orange tail feathers glowed in the bright sun, beauty only God could create.

      As a kid, Braden had often gone outside to take solace during his parents’ fights, and it was part of why he loved outdoor venues. With many of the PBR events now held in large indoor arenas, small venues run by volunteers were a breath of fresh air. Literally. Still, if this had been a big venue, they would have had paid security staff, thus preventing the threat to Tessa’s life.

      “Which do you like best?” he asked her, wanting to hear one thing about her personal life. “Riding in an outdoor or indoor arena?”

      “I grew up on outdoor ones, so that’s still my preference.” She snapped on latex gloves before opening the case.

      “Mine, СКАЧАТЬ