Safety in Numbers. Carla Cassidy

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      “Good morning,” he said as he walked to the countertop where the coffeemaker sat.

      “’Morning,” Meredith replied. “I hope you slept well.”

      “I always do.” He carried his cup and sat on the stool next to Meredith, bringing with him the faint scent of shaving cream, minty soap and a woodsy cologne. The tension inside her coiled a little tighter. “What about you? How did you sleep?”

      It was a simple question, but something about the look in his eyes made her feel like he was prying into intimate territory. “I always sleep well, too,” she replied.

      He took a sip of his coffee, then looked at her curiously. “Dalton mentioned last night that we’ve come to town at a time when things are pretty unsettled,” he said.

      “Very unsettled,” she agreed, relaxing a bit as the subject changed.

      “Tell me about it.”

      “It’s complicated, but a couple of weeks ago we discovered that a corporation called MoTwin has been buying up property in the area.”

      “That doesn’t sound unusual. Corporations seem to be buying up property everywhere in the United States,” Kathy observed.

      “Yes, but in this case, the land they were buying was from ranchers who had died, ranchers who had been murdered.”

      “Oh, my,” Kathy exclaimed, then picked up her knife to continue cutting up a kiwi.

      “The deaths were made to look like accidents, so it took a while for anyone to realize what was going on,” Meredith continued. “The latest death was a real estate agent who had written up the property contracts on the land in question. She was murdered. A couple of FBI agents are here now working the case. We know somebody in town has to be behind the scheme, somebody local has orchestrated the deaths and that’s who we want.”

      “This MoTwin, what do you know about it?” Chase asked.

      “Not much.” Meredith took a sip of her coffee, then continued, “The address on all the paperwork is nothing more than an empty storefront location in Boston. Two men are listed as partners, Joe Black and Harold Willington, but as far as I know nobody has been able to find them or dig up any information on them. We know that the land was apparently being bought up for a community of luxury condos and town houses.”

      She took another sip of her coffee and fought off a chill at the thought that it could be a friend or a neighbor who was responsible for the deaths in the area.

      “Hopefully the FBI will find out who here in town is responsible and they’ll lock them up and throw away the key,” she exclaimed. “In any case, it shouldn’t interfere with your visit here. By the way, how long are you intending on staying?”

      Chase’s gaze was lazy and his blue eyes sparked with humor. “Trying to get rid of us already?”

      “Of course not,” she replied hurriedly. “I was just curious.” Curious as to how long she’d have to put up with the strange feeling he evoked inside her.

      “We aren’t sure,” Chase replied. “I have quite a bit of vacation time built up so we’re kind of openended at the moment.”

      Kathy glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’d better get back to work if I’m going to have breakfast ready at a reasonable time. Why don’t you two shoo and let me do my thing.”

      Meredith drained her coffee cup, placed it in the dishwasher, then started out of the kitchen. “Where are you headed?” Chase asked.

      “To the stables,” she replied. “I usually go out there every morning and most evenings to say hello to the horses.”

      “Mind if I tag along?”

      Yes, I do. You make me nervous and I don’t know why. She didn’t say that, but instead shook her head. She grabbed a jacket from a hook next to the back door, and once she stepped off the porch, Chase fell in beside her.

      “Dalton told me you’re quite a horseback rider,” he said as they crossed the thick, browning lawn toward the stables.

      At five-ten there were few men who dwarfed Meredith, but Chase did. He made her feel small and oddly vulnerable. “Do you ride?” she asked.

      “Motorcycles, not horses.”

      “Then you don’t know what you’re missing,” she replied, her steps long and brisk. They walked for a few minutes in silence.

      “Quite a spread you have here,” he said. “Did this MoTwin Corporation contact you all about selling out? You said the deaths that occurred were made to look like accidents. Anything odd happen to your father?”

      She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “For somebody just visiting the area you have a lot of questions.”

      “I’m a cop. Curiosity comes natural to me.”

      She gazed at him for a long moment, taking in the handsome chiseled features, the spark of the early-morning sun on his hair and the guileless blue of his eyes. “Then to answer your question, no. Nobody has contacted my father about selling because they probably know that won’t ever happen. And no, nothing strange or suspicious has happened to my father.

      “One thing all those dead ranchers had in common was either no children or family to take over their ranches, or kin that weren’t interested in ranching. My father has five sons and me. Killing him wouldn’t get anyone any closer to owning this place.”

      He frowned thoughtfully. “But, I would think if this corporation planned a community of condos and town houses, they’d want this land.” He cast a gaze around. “It looks pretty prime to me.”

      “I don’t know what the intentions of MoTwin were where our land was concerned. I can’t begin to guess what was in those men’s heads.”

      They reached the stables and walked inside, where the horses in the various stalls greeted their presence with snickers and soft whinnies.

      As she walked toward where her horse, Spooky, was stalled, she paused at each of the other stalls to pet a nose or scratch an ear. She tried to ignore Chase’s nearness, but it was darned near impossible.

      The man seemed to fill the stable interior with an unsettling presence that even the horses felt. They sidestepped and pawed the ground with an unusual restlessness, as if catching the scent of a predator in the air.

      “Tell me about your other brothers,” he said as she greeted her black mare with a soft whisper. “Your father mentioned they’d all be here for dinner tonight. I’d like to know a little about them before then. Dalton has mentioned them in the past, but never went into specific details.”

      “Tanner’s the oldest. He’s thirty-five and as you know married to Anna. Zack is thirty-one and married to Kate. He’s running for Sheriff. Clay is thirty and just married Libby, who also has a little girl named Gracie. Then there’s Joshua. He’s the baby at twenty-five and he’s dating my best friend, Savannah. You met her yesterday at the café;.”

      He nodded, his eyes dark and enigmatic. “Do you СКАЧАТЬ