The Missing Mccullen. Rita Herron

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      The sheriff veered onto the road leading to the ranch where he’d been working, and Cash noticed the lawyer was following.

      “Why did you bail me out?” Cash asked.

      The sheriff released a heavy sigh. “We’ll discuss that at Horseshoe Creek.”

      Cash had never been to Horseshoe Creek, but he’d heard about the McCullen spread. Hell, everyone within five states had heard about it. Apparently the patriarch of the family, Joe McCullen, had run a large cattle and horse operation. He’d died a year ago and left it to his three sons. Maddox was the sheriff. Brett, a big rodeo star. And the youngest, Ray, was a private investigator.

      A few months ago, Cash had read an article saying that Joe hadn’t died of natural causes as they’d originally thought, but that he’d been murdered.

      Joe McCullen and Elmore, Sondra’s father, had been rival ranchers, owning two of the largest spreads in this part of Wyoming. Was that why the McCullens were coming to his rescue now? To get back at an old rival?

      A sign for the Triple X dangled from wooden posts. The sheriff turned down the drive. Spring had turned to early summer and everything was green. Cows grazed and horses roamed the pastureland. His boss, Wilson Donovan, owned a hundred acres, but that was small compared to the Wagon Wheel and Horseshoe Creek.

      With no money for training and breeding, Donovan focused on his cattle.

      Tires churned the gravel, bringing Cash closer to the main house and the man who’d taken a chance on him after Elmore had blackballed him in the ranching community.

      The sheriff parked and climbed out, then opened Cash’s door. Donovan strode down the wooden steps of the rickety porch toward them as BJ pulled her car next to them and got out. Somehow the fact that she’d been following them made Cash feel a bit safer.

      A frown pulled Donovan’s thick white eyebrows together as he glanced from the sheriff to Cash.

      “I’m sorry, Mr. Donovan,” Cash began.

      Donovan held up a hand. “I’m sorry, too, Cash, but I think you’d better get your stuff and leave.”

      Cash gritted his teeth, but gave the man a clipped nod. Dammit. Donovan had taken a chance on him, and he’d failed him.

      How the hell was he going to pay Sheriff McCullen back for his bail if he had no job or income?

      * * *

      BJ WANTED TO question Donovan without Cash present.

      “I’ll accompany Cash to his quarters so he can retrieve his clothes,” Maddox offered.

      Cash glared at him. “You think I’m going to run?”

      Maddox crossed his arms. “Are you?”

      Anger flashed across Cash’s face. “No.”

      BJ traded a knowing look with Maddox. “Mr. Donovan and I will join you at his cabin.”

      “Bunkhouses are about a mile from the main house,” Donovan said. “Sheriff Jasper already come out and searched Cash’s room.”

      Cash heaved a weary breath. “Of course he did.”

      BJ made a mental note to ask Jasper about the search.

      Maddox motioned for Cash to get back in the car, and he did so. But he looked irritated and worried. Did he have something to hide?

      Donovan tipped his hat. “You think Cash killed the woman?”

      BJ shrugged slightly “He claims he didn’t, that he and Sondra were only friends.” She paused to see if he reacted, but he didn’t, so she continued. “The woman’s three-year-old son is missing. Cash is afraid someone kidnapped him. What do you think about Cash?”

      “I know what Elmore said, but I liked Cash. He was a hard worker and seemed honest.” Donovan worked his mouth from side to side. “Elmore’s cutthroat to us smaller ranchers. He was also protective of his daughter. Hell, I figured he’d kill anyone who touched her.”

      Interesting. His opinion backed up Cash’s story.

      “Did Sondra visit Cash here at the ranch?”

      “She dropped her kid off a few times,” Donovan said. “But I don’t know what happened between them. What the hands do on their time off is their business, long as they don’t bring trouble here.” He hesitated. “You might ask Hanks, Cash’s bunkmate.”

      “I will. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk to some of your other ranch hands.”

      Donovan scratched his chin. “Feel free. I’d like to see Cash catch a break. But unfortunately, I can’t keep him on here. The negative publicity is bad for business, and business is bad enough as it is.”

      “Thanks.” Donovan sounded like a fair man. “Is there anything else you can tell me about Cash?”

      “I never seen anyone ride like him. He has a knack for herding, too.” He removed his hat and ran a hand through his thinning hair. “Cash is ambitious. I think it’s always bugged him that he’s not in charge. Was saving up to buy his own land someday.”

      His earlier comment replayed in her head. “You said you figured Elmore would kill any man who touched his daughter. Do you think Elmore was dangerous?”

      “I can’t say.” Donovan shrugged. “Elmore was ruthless in business, and he ran some guys off. Two of my hands before Cash used to work there. Said he fired them for flirting with his daughter.”

      “What about Elmore’s grandson, Tyler?”

      “Cash adored that kid and took him riding. But Elmore didn’t talk about Tyler.” The rancher adjusted his hat on his head. “Thought that was odd. Most grandparents gush over their young ’uns.”

      “Did you see Elmore often?”

      Donovan shook his head. “Just at the Cattleman’s Club. He kept to business, though.”

      “Elmore thought Cash was Tyler’s father, but he claims he’s not. Do you have any idea who the boy’s father is?”

      Confusion clouded the man’s eyes. “No. Like I said, Elmore stuck to work.”

      Did Elmore have any real friends?

      And how about enemies?

      If Elmore gave his rivals a difficult time, one of them could have cozied up to Sondra to get back at Elmore. If so, and Sondra found out she’d been used, she wouldn’t have wanted her father to know.

      That would explain the reason she’d lied about Tyler’s father being Cash.

      * * *

      CASH CLIMBED FROM the police car at the bunkhouse, his instincts alert. He should be grateful this sheriff had stopped to let him pack his things.

      He wished he could get his СКАЧАТЬ