Stranded With The Detective

Dillon turned around, apparently to check on his wife. She was standing about twenty feet away with Donna and the baby. Ashley was the model of patience, a smile on her face. She was used to the cop life and how it tended to pull her husband away from family outings, even on weekends.

Being a full-time detective, and part-time, pretty much as-needed SWAT officer, was a 24/7 job. That was especially true since they were the only SWAT team for all of Blount County, and even some other nearby counties that lacked the in-depth training that Dillon was always putting his team through. If something really bad was going on anywhere within a couple hours’ drive, the entire seven-member SWAT team was usually called in.

“I don’t know about you two,” Dillon said. “But I’m out of the mood for the fair now. And I’m thinking we should get my daughter out of the cold. I totally misjudged the wind. I don’t want her to get another ear infection.”

His wife must have agreed, because she had a thick blanket completely covering the stroller now.

Blake straightened, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He looked eager to get going, proving Colby’s suspicion that he didn’t want to be at the fair any more than he did.

“If you guys are okay with leaving early,” Blake said, “I’ll call Max and tell him to put the potatoes on that monster grill of his. We’ll have an early lunch instead of a late dinner.”

Dillon narrowed his eyes at Blake, as if only just realizing he wasn’t excited about being there. Blake had probably just lost points from his leader. Judging by how Blake’s shoulders suddenly slumped, he’d probably just realized that he shouldn’t have acted so eager to leave.

The poor newbie couldn’t win.

Dillon turned back to Colby, effectively dismissing Blake. “I can call the station, see if they can spare someone to come out and escort Miss Caraway and Gladiator to the farm. They’ll take her statement and write up the reports, too.”

Colby shook his head. “It’s not right sending our weekend skeleton staff out here when I’ve already got this handled. I’m on call anyway. You guys go ahead. I’ve got this.”

A frown wrinkled Dillon’s forehead. “Okay, but forget the written reports. Do that Monday. That’ll free you up to head over to Max’s once you get Gladiator taken care of.”

“I said I’ve got this. Go. All of you. I’ll see you later.”

“At Max’s?” Dillon pressed.

“Depends on how long I’m at the farm.” And whether he could find another football game to watch on TV.

Dillon looked ready to argue, but Ashley stepped up beside him. “We’ve already pushed Colby into going to the fair even though he didn’t want to. Don’t force him to go to Max’s, too. Maybe he’s not ready for company just yet.”

Colby would have rolled his eyes at her sympathetic look except that it might have hurt her feelings. He loved Ashley like everyone on their team did. But she spent way too much time concerning herself with his love life, or lack of one. As small as the town was, she should already know that his ex was dating someone else. Then again, maybe that’s why she was so concerned. Maybe she was worried that he’d heard about his ex and was upset. Man, he couldn’t win today any more than Blake could.

Dillon didn’t look thrilled about leaving Colby. “You sure you can handle it?”

This time Colby did roll his eyes. “You’re not the only one who grew up around horses. My dad still has a sizable herd on his farm and he suckers us kids into helping him out way more often than I’d like to. I may not be the expert that you are but I can certainly load a horse into a trailer. Even a big horse. Now, quit arguing with me and get that beautiful baby of yours out of the cold.”

Dillon stepped in close. “I wasn’t asking whether you could handle the horse.” He kept his voice low so that only Colby could hear him. “I was referring to Miss Caraway and your obvious attraction to her.”

Colby stiffened. “She’s a witness and a potential perpetrator. I’m sure that I can resist her siren’s call and do my job. Sir.”

Dillon winced. “I had to ask. You were unfocused back there a few times. That can be dangerous, as you well know, when you’re on the job.”

Still smarting from Dillon’s comments, Colby gave him a curt nod, even while he silently acknowledged to himself that he was right. There was something intriguing about Piper that had thrown him off balance more than once. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened, certainly never on the job. The fact that his distraction was obvious enough for Dillon to have noticed smarted worse than the reprimand.

Dillon stepped back. “Thanks for taking care of things. I’ll check on the stallion tonight when we get home. See you Monday.”

Colby forced a smile for Ashley as the group headed to Dillon’s SUV. With all the baby paraphernalia that had to be lugged everywhere they went, Dillon had traded in his coveted red Jeep for a huge sport-utility vehicle. Even though it was cherry red like the Jeep had been, it was still only one step away from a minivan. Colby shuddered at that thought and didn’t mind one bit that he’d be heading home alone today. In a truck.

He wasn’t ready to trade the single life for a baby stroller, or to say goodbye to his prized 4x4 pickup that was so high it required a step side to climb into it. Still, he had to admit, married life seemed to agree with his friends. Three of his SWAT teammates had succumbed to the love bug. Dillon, Chris and Max were happier now than they’d ever been. Thankfully the other members of the team—Donna, Blake and Randy, who was out of town right now—were just as intent on maintaining the single life as Colby. There was only so much lovesickness a guy could tolerate at work every day.

“Excuse me,” a voice called out behind him.

Colby had to jump back to avoid a face full of muzzle. A dappled-gray mare and its rider clopped past him toward the stands where the derby had been earlier. There were a lot more people on this side of the fairgrounds now, milling around and standing in line at the various food vendors to load up on greasy or sugary snacks before the horse show and subsequent race. Horses were being led out of the tent in a chaotic rush.

When it seemed safe to head toward the tent to check on Gladiator and Piper without getting trampled, Colby started that way. A large bay gelding with flashy white stockings and a blaze on its face rushed from the tent, forcing him to hop out of the way again. Its rider jogged beside him, holding the reins. He waved a sheepish apology and Colby waved back.

The sound of pounding hooves had him whirling around, expecting another horse to be charging down on him. But the sound wasn’t coming from the direction of the tent.

It was coming from the parking lot.

He turned in time to see an enormous black horse racing through the rows of parked vehicles, its small rider clinging to the withers and long, thick mane as they galloped toward the trees.

It was Piper. On Gladiator. Bareback, without a bridle to steer him.

Colby cursed and looked around. The white stockings on the bay’s legs caught his attention. The gelding was a good fifty yards away now. He sprinted after the horse and grabbed the reins from the rider.

“Police emergency. I need to borrow your horse.”

He put his foot in the stirrup and vaulted up onto the saddle while the rider was still sputtering in surprise.

“Yah.” Colby slapped the reins and squeezed his thighs, sending the bay into a full-out gallop.

Chapter Four (#u07672194-cf46-5b11-84ea-aaab2e4dd32e)

Piper was forced to slow Gladiator to a fast walk so she could safely thread him through nature’s obstacle course. Even though many of the trees had lost their leaves for the winter, the pines hadn’t, and there were enough evergreen bushes around to make the underbrush thick and cloying. Low branches reached out like spindly fingers to scratch and pull at the horse’s thick mane and tail. Piper’s own long curls had been tucked down the back of her jacket. But the constant movement kept spilling her hair onto her shoulders, getting in her way.

She shoved one of the curls out of her face and then tightened her hands in Gladiator’s mane. If her plan hadn’t failed utterly, she’d have had him safely loaded in the trailer by now. When she’d sneaked into the tent earlier this morning, before the fair opened, she’d been shocked to see Gladiator tied to the boards of his stall. She’d wanted to run right in and free him, but she’d forced herself to wait. With only her ranch manager’s description to go on, she had to confirm which of the men milling around in the tent was Palmer. Once she’d seen him enter Gladiator’s stall, it had taken everything inside her to keep from running in after him right then and there. But his size was a problem. She’d needed a plan. That’s when she’d come up with the idea of disabling his vehicle to get him out of the tent. But first, she’d had to figure out which vehicle was his.

Everyone with a horse in the tent had to register, and that included writing down the makes, models and license plates of their trailers. All she’d had to do was mosey over by the registration table, glance at the clipboards, and she had what she needed to find Palmer’s truck and trailer. If he’d locked his truck, she’d have slashed his tires. Probably. Maybe. She wasn’t in the habit of destroying other people’s property, even if they were low-life horse thieves. Thankfully the truck wasn’t locked. She’d rummaged in his toolbox and used his own tools and a rubber washer to tamper with his battery connection. Unfortunately, she’d dallied too long, watching the handsome cop, and Palmer had caught her before she’d escaped with Gladiator.

The man had screamed when she’d turned the knife toward him. But it must have been a ruse to confuse her. Because then he’d surprised her by slamming his fist down on her forearm and grabbing the knife.

She frowned. He wasn’t anything like he’d seemed at first. There was something beneath the surface, a capacity for cruelty that had the hairs on her arms standing on end. She didn’t know how much of what he’d displayed today was an act and what was real. All she knew for sure was that she didn’t trust him, and she never wanted to come up against him again.

Now all she needed to do was ride deep into the woods and wait out whatever search might ensue. She should be able to hire a driver to bring a horse trailer to some remote location on the other side of these foothills. Then she could meet him there, load up Gladiator and be gone before the cops—and Palmer—realized what had happened.

But what would she do after that?

She could take Gladiator home to Lexington and fight Palmer and Wilkerson in the courts there. It would be easier to prove her ownership around people who knew her and knew her horse. But the Destiny police had ordered her to wait for a judge’s decree. By going against that order, how much trouble could she be in? Was stealing your own horse even a crime?

Clenching her hand tighter in Gladiator’s mane, she used the pressure of her thighs to steer him around a rotten tree stump. He pranced sideways, snorting in agitation.

“Hush now. It’s okay, boy. We’ll figure a way out of this. Don’t you worry.”

She urged him across the road and signaled him to stop in front of a deep ditch so she could figure out where they could safely enter the thick woods on the other side. Path chosen, she angled him a few feet farther down the road, then balanced her weight forward to make it easier for him to jump.

A loud click sounded behind her.

“Jump the ditch, and I’ll shoot that horse right out from under you,” a man’s voice called out.