Chapter Four
Cliff didn’t let Ruby out of his sight. He watched her every move as she helped Luis with the guests. Most needed a hand dismounting, their legs wobbly after the hour-and-a-half ride. Many wanted to chat, their spirits raised by the fresh air, majestic scenery and small taste of cowboy life.
Because there would be a second trail ride later that morning, the entire string of horses was left saddled and bridled. Ruby and Luis tethered them to the corral fence. After warning their neighbors with a nip or squeal for getting too close, all the horses settled in for a well-deserved snooze.
The sight of them resting, their tails lazily swishing, reminded Cliff of the years he’d worked at the Triple C Ranch. Attending college and, eventually, police academy, had been a difficult decision. Cliff loved ranching that much.
But the Dempseys were the law in Sweetheart and had been since the days when the local sheriff wore a Colt .45 strapped to his side. Cliff had a tradition to carry on and didn’t regret leaving the Reno P.D. in order to return to Sweetheart. He’d taken to the job of sheriff just like his father and the multitude of grandfathers and great uncles before him.
What he did regret was his one stupid blunder—becoming involved with a witness. It hadn’t cost him his career; the reprimand had been light. But it did blow a case a year in the making and it left a mark on his otherwise untarnished record.
It had also cost him the complete trust of his commanding officer and partner and cut his chances for advancement in half.
“You said you’d teach me to rope.”
Cliff glanced down at the cowgirl in pink and smiled. “That I did.”
“My brother wants to learn, too.” She presented a reluctant young cowboy, a good foot shorter than she.
Cliff wasn’t sure about the boy wanting to rope. He appeared more inclined to watch and suck his thumb than participate.
“You don’t mind?” The children’s mother had come up behind them. She also wore newly purchased boots from the looks of them. Brown, not pink.
“My pleasure. But I don’t have much time.” He had rounds to make before returning to the station, and the pile of paperwork on his desk never seemed to shrink. He was also anxious to read the reports on Crowley that Detective James was sending over.
“If you’re too busy...”
“Quite all right, ma’am.” He winked at the girl. “I made this young lady a promise. Wait right here.”
With one eye on Ruby, he strode toward the tack shed. She was engaged in conversation with Will Dessaro, the ranch’s trail boss and Scarlett’s immediate supervisor. Judging by Will’s unconcerned features, he believed he was talking to Scarlett. Ruby appeared to be handling herself, although she’d shoved her hands into her jeans pockets. A sure sign she was on edge.
Cliff hated the idea of leaving her to fend for herself, but he had no choice. Sam had promised to watch her in Cliff’s absence. She wouldn’t be going on the next trail ride. Instead, Sam had assigned Ruby some of the endless chores around the barn and corrals.
Inside the tack shed, Cliff searched for a lariat. He found three hanging on the wall and picked the one best suited for a child. Even then, it was way too big.
The girl didn’t care and grasped the rope with glee when he showed it to her.
“Come on.” He led the mother and children away from the horses to the opposite side of the corral. An old tree stump provided the perfect practice target and a tall ponderosa pine offered ample shade. “We’ll start with the basics. Watch me first, then you can try.”
The girl was reluctant to surrender the lariat, but she did. Cliff adjusted the loop until it was the right size for him, then raised the lariat over his head and swung it in the air. At the right moment, he flicked his wrist and let the lariat fly. The loop landed around the tree stump with a satisfactory thwap, and he jerked the rope tight.
The little girl’s mouth fell open, and she turned wide eyes on her mother. “Did you see that?”
“Very impressive.”
“Do it again.” The little boy spoke for the first time.
“Yes, yes,” his sister insisted.
“Don’t you want to try?” Cliff asked.
She shook her head so hard, her pink cowboy hat tilted sideways.
Wasn’t that just like a kid? Cliff chuckled to himself. His own nieces were no different. Gung ho one second, timid as a mouse the next.
“What about you, partner?” The boy had once again ducked behind his mother’s leg. “Ma’am? Would you like to give it a shot?”
She broke into a laugh. “Why don’t I just take pictures? Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” He threw the lariat again.
After some more coaxing, he finally convinced the girl to try her hand. Mom snapped more photos, enough to fill an album. The family left happy, the children dashing ahead of their mother as they climbed the tree-lined path toward the guest cabins.
“If that’s how you are with kids, I’d say you’re a whole lot better than an adult presence in the room.”
Cliff spun at the sound of Ruby behind him. He hadn’t noticed the differences in her and her sister’s voices before. Ruby’s was slightly deeper and a little huskier. Very sexy.
He had to stop comparing the two of them. He also had to stop thinking of her other than professionally. Cliff had crossed the line before. He would not make the same mistake twice.
“I’m the fun uncle,” he said. “I let them get away with murder. If there’s a rule, we break it. Makes my cousin mad.”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have her, too.”
He and his cousin weren’t just related, they’d grown up together and were good friends. More like siblings. Cliff had never cared much for her ex and wasn’t sorry to see them divorced. Though, he was sorry for the pain his cousin and her children had endured.
“I’m not very good with kids,” Ruby admitted.
Cliff had observed her awkwardness with the young girl during the ride. “There’s no secret. Just show an interest in them.”
“Scarlett loves kids.”
“You shouldn’t mention her name out in the open,” he warned Ruby in a low voice.
“Sorry,” she murmured and glanced about. “I don’t think anyone heard.”
“Walk with me.”
“I can’t just leave the guests.”
Cliff reached for her hand and held up their laced fingers. “Hey, Will. I’m borrowing Scarlett for a few minutes. She’ll be right back.”
The trail boss gave them a wave. “Sure thing.”
When Ruby would have removed her hand from Cliff’s, he tightened his grip.
“Remember, we’re dating. People expect to see us together.”
“Are you going to kiss me again before you leave?”
He wasn’t sure if she’d asked the question in jest or seriousness. “We’ll compromise with a hug.”
Her relief was visible. She’d been serious.
“Call me every hour on the hour,” he told her when they reached his vehicle. “If you’re more than five minutes late, I’ll call you.”
“My phone’s in pieces, remember?”
“Use Sam’s or Annie’s or the ranch phone.” He pulled a business card from his pocket, scribbled his cell number on the back and pressed it into her palm. “Don’t lose this until you’ve memorized the number. Park the truck Sam lends you as close to the trailer as possible. And leave the porch light on all night.”
“Porch light. Living room light. I’d better check my supply of bulbs. At this rate, I’ll be going through them quickly.”
She was putting up less of a fight than she had before the trail ride. Crowley’s phone call was probably responsible.
“Good idea,” he said. “Light is one of the best deterrents. Call me when you’re ready to leave work. I’ll meet you here and follow you home.”
“With my guard?”
She’d remembered.
He smiled. “You’ll like Sarge. Best partner I’ve ever had.” As soon as he spoke the words, his smile faltered. Her sister hadn’t like Sarge one bit. Maybe Ruby would have the same reaction.
“Sarge? Is he former army?”
“Retired from the police force. There isn’t anyone else I trust more to protect you when I’m not around.”
“Do I invite him in or does he sit outside in his vehicle?”
“Your choice. He’ll be fine on the front porch.”
“All night?”
“He’s done it before.”
“Maybe he can sleep on the couch,” she said with great reluctance.
“Or in the kitchen.” Cliff popped the automatic lock with his key fob and opened the driver’s side door. “Remember to call me.”
“Thank you for everything. Scarlett and I...we acted hastily. Without thinking things through.”
“That happens when you’re scared.”
“Everyone’s going to so much trouble for me.”
“We’ll talk more tonight. Set up your new cell phone. Make plans for the square dance.”
“Okay.” She started to back away.
Cliff didn’t let her get very far before pulling her into his embrace.
“For show,” he said. “In case Will and any of the other employees are watching.”
And to comfort Ruby, he added to himself. She looked ready to crumble.
Only it felt less like show and comforting and more like how a man holds a woman he wants to kiss. Cliff was reluctant to release her.
“See you later.” Sliding behind the steering wheel, he started the engine. She turned and headed back to the corral. He watched her progress in his rearview mirror.
Leaving Ruby was difficult and not only because he was concerned for her safety.
He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had felt so good, so right, in his arms.
Cliff spent a total of fifteen minutes at Tom Welch’s place checking on the missing chain saw. While there were fresh footprints behind his barn, nothing was stolen or disturbed. Cliff considered the possibility that Tom had made the prints himself. He did have a reputation for imbibing one too many whiskeys, forgetting where he’d been and what he’d done.
After assuring Tom that either he or his deputy would drive by later on rounds, Cliff aimed his SUV in the direction of town. Traffic was light, and he passed only two unfamiliar vehicles. The occupants appeared to be tourists. Nonetheless, he made a mental note of each car’s make and model.
The Dempsey Trading Post and General Store had changed little since Cliff was a kid, though it was easily ten times the size of the original one founded in the early 1860s. His ancestors had originally come from Ohio, traveling with one of many wagon trains heading west. For reasons unknown, they disembarked early rather than continuing to California.
Sweetheart was no more than a primitive settlement in those days. Cliff’s entrepreneurial great-great-whatever uncle founded a one-room trading post that had catered to prospectors lured to the area by a gold strike in the nearby mountains. As the population expanded, so had the man’s business. His nephew became the first sheriff.
Cliff grew up spending much of his youth in the store, pestering his aunt or playing with his cousin. Even during high school, when girls and sports consumed his every waking thought, he still visited the store. More frequently when his aunt hired the homecoming queen for a part-time cashier position.
Striding down the center aisle, he tipped his hat to a pair of customers and made his way straight to the photo and electronics counter.
“Hey, you!” His cousin Maeve smiled broadly at him as she rang up a young man’s order. “Be just a second.”
He observed his cousin, taking pleasure in her happy expression and relaxed, cheerful manner. So different from last summer when he’d helped her and her children move here. Then, she’d been miserable and withdrawn.
“What brings you by, cowboy?” she asked after seeing off the customer. “Don’t tell me Evan is throwing rocks into the neighbor’s yard again.”
Lately, her two-year-old son had decided it was fun to collect rocks and chuck them over the fence. The neighbor had complained.
“Not that I’ve heard,” Cliff said.
“Thank goodness.” Maeve wiped imaginary sweat from her brow.
“I need to buy one of those disposable phones.” He indicated the display wall behind her.
“Something happen to yours?”
“Nope.”
She waited and shrugged when he didn’t offer any additional information. “I’m guessing it’s one of those sheriff things you can’t tell me about.”
“And you’d be right.”
She showed him the three brands of phones the store carried and recommended the most popular one. He chose the least popular. If Crowley was going to get this number, he’d have to work extra hard.
“Need help activating it?”
“No, thanks.” Cliff quelled her insatiable curiosity with a look.
She grumbled in frustration. “You really aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
“Sorry.”
“Will I see you at supper?” She bagged the box containing the phone. “Mom wants to talk about the Mega Weekend of Weddings.” She rolled her eyes. “What else is new?”
“Can’t. I’m on duty.”
“You’re allowed to take a meal break.”
She was right. And he often did join his aunt and cousin for lunch or supper and sometimes breakfast if it was a tough night.
“I have other plans.”
“More sheriff stuff?”
“What can I say?”
She made a last attempt to sway him. “The kids will miss you.”
“I’ll see them tomorrow.” Cliff had volunteered to watch Maeve’s lively brood in the evening while she helped her mother decorate the community center for the upcoming square dance.
Maybe Ruby would go with him to babysit. Scarlett had.
He reconsidered almost immediately, and it had nothing to do with Ruby’s discomfort around children. She was a crime victim and, therefore, off-limits. They could carry out her ruse without spending every evening together.
“All right.” Maeve sighed expressively. “If you change your mind, just call. Mom always makes enough food for an army.”
Grabbing the bag with the phone, he bid his cousin goodbye and left the store. With no other calls coming in, he went directly to the station.
Only one other car occupied the small lot outside the station. It belonged to Iva Lynn, his dispatcher, secretary and, when the need arose, his deputy. She’d even filled in as sheriff for two months, in between the time Cliff’s father retired and Cliff transferred from the Reno police force.
His parents had left behind a lifetime in Sweetheart to reside in Phoenix where the dry air and milder weather was kinder to his mother’s arthritic joints. At first, Cliff wasn’t thrilled about returning to the home of his youth. A big-city police force offered more opportunity. But then, there had been the incident with Talia.
His fault. No one else’s. The only way he’d be able to salvage his career and his pride was to start over. He didn’t like thinking of himself as having returned to Sweetheart with his tail between his legs, but it felt like that some days.
Naturally, the townsfolk had welcomed him with open arms. The incident at the Reno P.D. was never mentioned.
Cliff wiped the dust from his boots on the mat outside the door, and then entered the large room that served as the sheriff’s office. Right next door was the mayor’s office.
Both rooms had been built onto the side of the community center. Across the lot was a metal building, which housed the town’s fire engine and served as a base for the volunteer fire department. Adjacent to that was a helicopter landing pad for use in air-transport emergencies.
Luckily, this cluster of buildings was spared when the forest fire raged through town. The same couldn’t be said for half of Sweetheart’s homes and businesses. The town’s recovery was painfully slow. Cliff’s aunt was committed to accelerating the process. Her latest efforts included the Mega Weekend of Weddings.
A buzzer sounded as he opened the door. Iva Lynn didn’t look up from her computer. “How’s things at the Gold Nugget?”
“Morning. And they’re fine.”
What Iva Lynn really wanted to know was how the square dance invitation had gone with Scarlett. Like Cliff’s aunt and cousin, Iva Lynn took too much interest in Cliff’s personal life. Also like his relatives, she believed she had a right.
Iva Lynn had worked for Cliff’s father during his entire career and, at the very start of her career, for Cliff’s grandfather. The running joke in town was that Iva Lynn came with the position of sheriff. She might have reached the age of retirement, but she was far from retiring. Cliff wasn’t the only one convinced the entire tiny department would fall to pieces without her.
Sarge roused from his resting place on the floor next to Cliff’s desk and hop-walked over to him.
“Hey, buddy.” Cliff bent and stroked the three-legged shepherd behind the ears. “How’s it going?”
Sarge licked his hand in response.
“I have a job for you.”
“What’s that?” It was Iva Lynn who asked the question.
“I’m taking him over to Scarlett’s trailer. He’s staying there for a while.”
“Why’s that?” This time, Iva Lynn did glance up from her computer. “I thought she didn’t like dogs.”
While Sarge technically belonged to Cliff, Iva Lynn watched the dog during her days at the station. As such, she felt entitled to comment on his care, much like she felt entitled to comment on Cliff’s personal life.
“She doesn’t like dogs.” Cliff had every intention of filling in Iva Lynn regarding the twins’ switch. For one, he’d need her help making the hourly rounds. Also, she’d surely read the reports from Detective James as she printed them off.
“Who’s Ruby McPhee?” Iva Lynn asked as if on cue. “Scarlett’s sister?”
“Yes.”
“She staying with Scarlett?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Until her stalker is arraigned?”
“Give me a chance to read the reports. Then we’ll talk.” Cliff patted Sarge one last time and went to his desk, dropping the bag with the disposable phone on the corner before sitting. The dog hobbled back to his spot.
Sarge might be missing a hind limb, but Cliff had meant every word he’d told Ruby about his trust in the dog’s ability to protect her. When danger was present, Sarge became a beast.
“Whatcha got there?” Iva Lynn stared pointedly at the bag.
“Don’t you have schedules to complete?”
“They’ve waited till now. They can wait another two minutes.”
Cliff was surrounded by curious women. This one stared him down until he answered her. “A cell phone.”
“For who? You?”
“No.”
“This Ruby McPhee?” Iva Lynn’s carefully penciled brows bobbed like those of a ventriloquist’s puppet. She was no dummy and might even now be putting two and two together.
Cliff ignored her and removed the reports on Crowley from his in-box. The stack was heavy. Also neatly ordered. Iva Lynn had definitely read the reports. He didn’t ask her about the contents, wanting to process the information with a fresh eye.
“Any coffee left?” He glanced at the pot on the counter.
“You asking me to get it for you?” Iva Lynn’s brows danced again.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He stood and helped himself to the remaining cup. Wincing at the strong taste, he added a second spoonful of sugar.
“We’re low on filters, should you be near a store anytime soon.”
“I’ll pick some up later.”
The bickering was all in fun. Deep down, the two were good friends and worked well together.
Cliff sipped his coffee as he leafed through the reports. Crowley’s bio read like a case study straight out of a college psychology textbook. His mug shot raised the hair on Cliff’s arms. It showed a normal-enough-looking young man, except for the demented gleam in his eyes.
Rumors had circulated about Crowley’s father for years. A local congressman who’d used his wife’s family name and bank account to win elections. More than powerful, he was power hungry, narcissistic and domineering. His string of mistresses was legendary. It included the likes of Playboy models, minor celebrities, other politician’s wives and the most renowned madam in Vegas.
His wife, Crowley’s mother, had emotionally checked out years ago. Her penchant for drugs, alcohol and younger men regularly made the tabloid headlines, along with pictures of her husband’s latest marital infidelity. Crowley’s picture, too, since the attack on Ruby.
His older brother was a clone of their father. In copies of reports from the elite boarding school the brothers had attended as teenagers, there were repeated mentions of bullying. More than once, Crowley had been found beaten. Though he would never admit to who’d inflicted his injuries, the school administration strongly suspected his older brother. With a history like that, it was no wonder Crowley turned out the way he had.
Ruby wasn’t his first stalking victim by any means. There had been previous charges against him, brought by fellow students at the University of Nevada. The charges, however, were suddenly and inexplicably dropped.
Cliff suspected the victims were paid off, much as the family’s attorneys were pressuring Ruby. He studied the photos of Crowley’s other victims, observing the physical similarities to Ruby. The creep clearly exhibited a preference for pretty brunettes.
Cliff was no expert but what he saw in Crowley was the product of a severely dysfunctional family. Neglected at home, he sought love and acceptance elsewhere. When the women he targeted didn’t appreciate his over-the-top-attention, he responded the way he’d been taught by his father and older brother. He forced himself on the women.
Slowly Cliff leafed through the remaining reports, stopping to read the police interview with Ruby. He was particularly interested in the history of her and Crowley’s relationship.
She’d met him at work. His father had been a regular at the VIP lounge for years but only recently started bringing his twenty-two-year-old son with him. Though seven years separated Crowley and Ruby, he’d taken an instant liking to her and begun visiting the VIP lounge on his own. When he wasn’t seated in her section, he’d ask to be moved, becoming insistent if he was refused and once making a scene.
Ruby had been nice to him, in the way she was nice to all patrons. Mild, harmless flirting was part of the job. Crowley, starved for attention and completely infatuated, mistook her niceness as affection. He started bringing her gifts, which she refused, citing policy. Then, he began approaching her outside the lounge when her shift was over.
Ruby had complained to her manager, and Crowley was asked, politely, to leave her alone. After that, he started following her home and confronting her at the entrance to her condo building or in the parking garage.
When asked why she didn’t file a police report at the time, Ruby stated that Crowley really hadn’t done anything other than make her feel uncomfortable. Her manager had promised to speak to Crowley’s father. She also felt safe inside her condo.
Famous last words, Cliff mused. How many victims had assumed they were safe behind a locked door? How many thought their stalker would take no for an answer?
Ruby had been wise to get out of Vegas when she did. Crowley’s stalking tactics had progressed in the past year, as his calculated attack on Ruby and the lengths to which he’d gone to track her new number proved. An arrest and possible pending trial were not scaring him off, either.
At the sound of his cell phone ringing, Cliff’s hand jerked. It was Ruby, making her first hourly check in.
“Sheriff Dempsey.”
“It’s Ruby,” she said in a low voice. “Calling as ordered.”
He set the reports down, enormously glad to hear from her.
Detective James was right, this Crowley was one scary creep. Ruby would be in real danger if he ever found her.