Loe raamatut: «The Brothers of Hastings Ridge Ranch»

This book is dedicated with love to Amalia Anina Mauro LeVelle

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

Extract

Copyright

Chapter One

Sierra Hyde yawned into her fist as she nursed a glass of white wine at a long mahogany bar. The music, the booths on the back wall and the big mirror behind the bottles all reeked of familiarity.

Her main interest, however, wasn’t the establishment, but the solitary woman sitting alone at a dark booth near the back of the room. Her name was Natalia Bonaparte, age thirty-three. Occupation: job counselor. Frequent glances at the diamond watch sparkling on her wrist suggested whomever she was waiting to meet was late, but Sierra already knew this. Her job was to catch a photo of the man who joined the woman. According to Sierra’s client, Savannah Papadakis, that man was going to be Savannah’s estranged husband.

Yeah, well, it better be him because trailing Natalia was getting tedious and it had only been two days. The woman had a pretty active after-hour party life.

“Will you have another?” the bartender asked as he ran a rag along the bar. Sierra looked down at her glass and realized she’d imbibed half the wine. “I’ll have a ginger ale this time,” she said. With any luck, her client’s husband would show up, she’d get a few photos and be on her way back to New York City within the next few minutes. She needed a good night’s sleep after the disco stakeout last night.

He left to pour her drink right as the door opened. Sierra darted a quick glance. Two young guys barely old enough to legally walk through the door held each other up as they staggered to the bar and plopped down on either side of Sierra.

“Hey, pretty lady,” one of them said. The guy’s breath reached her nose before his words reached her ears and she instinctively flinched.

The bartender showed up with the ginger ale and took orders for two beers, while Sierra declined to let her new “friends” buy her one, too. The door opened again, sending a renewed jolt of cold January air into the bar. A man about the right age sauntered in. His perfectly groomed head of white hair caught every stray beam of light as he looked from the bar to the tables, past groups of revelers, until his gaze stopped on the far corner where Sierra knew the blonde sat. He seemed to momentarily frown before crossing the room to join her. The woman greeted him by lifting one of her hands, which he kissed. Sierra witnessed all this by watching their hazy reflections in the mirror that backed the bar.

The two drunks were both leaning closer to her, making her thankful she hadn’t taken off her jacket. She had to get rid of them if she was going to get the pictures and escape this place.

“Those gals over there are giving you the eye,” she whispered to the one on her left. She nodded at a table a good distance away, where two women pushing forty sat talking over martini glasses. As far as Sierra knew, neither one was even aware the guys at the bar existed.

“Them?” the one on Sierra’s left said after turning to stare.

“Too old,” the man on her right said. “Besides, they ain’t looking at us.”

“Sure they are,” she said as she took a pair of tortoiseshell glasses out of her pocket and slipped them on her face. “They just look away whenever one of you turns around.”

“You know, dude, there’s nothing wrong with bagging a couple of cougars,” the other guy said with a speculative note in his voice.

“But we can’t abandon this little gal,” the one on the right insisted.

“Sure you can,” Sierra said. “I’m about to leave, anyway.”

He grinned and cracked his knuckles. “That case, I call dibs on the brunette.”

Both men wobbled their way toward their new targets. Heaving a sigh of relief, Sierra once again focused on the mirror’s reflection. The lighting in that booth sucked. Details were hard to see.

She turned casually on her stool, glanced at the two women, who had apparently invited the drunks to sit down with them, and looked at the blonde’s table as she activated the camera hidden in the nose bridge of the frames of her glasses. She counted out a dozen shots, then got to her feet, put a twenty on the bar and made her way to the restroom, which meant she walked right past the booth. To her relief, the candlelight on their table was adequate at close range, and she took several pictures while passing, mostly of the woman, though the point was to get them both in the frame.

After washing her hands, Sierra retraced her steps, this time angling for a better shot of her two subjects. As she snapped a photo, the man called the bartender over. She darted him a startled glance. He looked right through her and she continued walking. She’d been so sure! But that accent...

Spiro Papadakis had been in the States for over a decade, but according to his wife, his Greek accent was still pronounced. This man sounded like the Jersey shore. He looked up at her as she passed and their eyes met. He blinked and looked away. She’d seen several photographs of her target and there was something familiar about this guy despite the voice.

Well, she’d download and study the pictures later. For now, her job here was done and she walked outside. Freezing rain pelted her face as she made her way to her car. Her phone chirped but she didn’t recognize the caller ID and answered cautiously. “Yes?”

“Is this Sierra Hyde?”

“Yes,” Sierra said as a sound from behind caused her to glance over her shoulder. She’d been a PI for almost five years now and liked to think her instincts picked up anything unusual in her environment. For a heartbeat she studied the facade. The lake behind the tavern was huge and black, and sent a layer of mist swirling around the painted wooden fish over the door. There didn’t appear to be anyone else around.

She turned her attention back to her caller. “Who is this?” she asked as she traversed the crowded lot to the very back corner, where she’d parked.

“My name is Pike Hastings,” a male voice said. “I’m sort of related to your sister, Tess.”

“I know who you are,” she said as she spotted the bright red bumper sticker promoting her choice of candidate for the upcoming mayoral election. She beeped the car open and settled behind the wheel. “You’re Mona’s son.”

“That’s right. I know we’ve never met—”

“Oh, my gosh, are you calling about Tess?” Sierra interrupted as she closed the car door behind her. “Has my little sister shown up? Does her dad know? Is she okay?”

“Yes, no, hard to say. Yes, she showed up, but here at my place. One minute she says call her dad, the next she refuses to let me do it. I’m not sure how she is except for a head cold and what looks to me like a major case of the jitters.”

“You’re in Montana, right?”

“No, the family ranch is in Idaho. About Tess, like I said, something has her spooked but she insists on talking to you and me together. Can you come right away?”

“Of course,” Sierra said.

“That’s great,” he said, and there was no missing the relief in his voice. “I took the liberty of buying you a plane ticket. I’ll email it to you. The only flight I could get you on leaves at five tomorrow morning from New York, I hope that’s okay.”

Sierra suppressed a groan. There went the night’s sleep she’d been hoping for. On the other hand, Tess had been mostly out of touch since a couple of weeks before Halloween. Sierra was so relieved to hear she was alive and breathing—even if it was in Idaho—that she would have walked there if she’d had to.

“I’ll pick you up at the airport,” he added.

“That isn’t necessary,” she assured him. “I’ll rent a car.”

“I insist,” he said. “The ranch can be hard to find and the roads are kind of tricky this time of year and your phone might not work,” he told her. “We don’t exactly have the same cell coverage you’re used to. Trust me on this.”

“Okay,” she said, and added her thanks before clicking off. Almost immediately, a sound outside the window made her look up and she gasped. It took her a second to make out the squished-up features of one of the drunks from the bar.

“Hey, baby, you’re voting for the wrong guy,” he said with a wide sweep of his arm toward the back of her car. “Jakes is a loser. Vote Yardley!”

She smiled and nodded and hit the door lock. No way was she rolling down the window. She started the car and hoped she didn’t back over one of his feet.

“Hey, come on back inside!” he squawked and reeled away. Did that comment about the mayoral candidates for New York City mean he had to drive all the way back to the city tonight? She sincerely hoped the bartender confiscated his keys and called him a cab.

Jumpy now, her mind racing with everything she had to do in the next seven hours, she drove out of the parking lot and headed home. A glance in the rearview mirror reassured her no one followed.

It crossed her mind that she didn’t know why it had even occurred to her to check.

* * *

PIKE HASTINGS WAS glad the predicted winter storm hadn’t materialized...yet. He arrived at the airport in Boise a half hour before Sierra’s flight was due to land and made the loop, keeping an eye out for a woman who fit her description. He’d never met her, had never even seen a picture of her. She shared only a mother with Tess, and Tess had warned him that while she had inherited her mother’s genes, Sierra had not. She’d told him only to look for a tall woman with red hair and an attitude.

As descriptions went, it wasn’t a lot to go on, but he figured they’d find each other without too much trouble. He eventually parked in the loading zone in front of the airline on which he’d booked her flight and got out of the SUV. Within minutes, a woman headed out of the building pulling a carry-on, impatience written all over her face.

But what a face. One in a million women could claim skin like hers: creamy, glowing, perfect. Large green eyes the color of spring ivy might look frustrated right now, but there was nothing wrong with their shape, just as her lips formed a lovely curve and her auburn hair fell in a glistening sheet to frame her jaw. She wore a black suede jacket and matching riding boots, skintight black jeans and a white shirt. A brilliant solitaire diamond glistened at her throat and a large leather handbag that could double as a saddlebag hung over one shoulder.

A large man with a mustache walked behind her. He wore a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, but Pike could see that he was staring at Sierra’s seductive shape just as intently as Pike had. The man seemed to become aware of Pike’s gaze and he put his hand up to his eyes and veered away as though embarrassed to be caught staring. Pike could have assured him just about any man would have ogled a bit.

“Sierra Hyde?” Pike said, stepping forward. She turned as though just becoming aware of him, pocketed her phone and maintained eye contact as Pike approached. He tried to see himself through her eyes and wondered what conclusions she might be making about him. He could only hope they were as flattering as the ones he’d drawn about her.

“You must be Pike,” she said, holding out her hand and shaking his with a firm, no-nonsense grip. “My phone works,” she added.

“Wait until we get out in the middle of nowhere,” he said with a smile.

“No doubt. Funny how dependent we get on our gadgets.”

Tess had said her sister was a private eye and he bet she was good at what she did. She didn’t look as though she’d tolerate being anything but good.

“Let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for her suitcase. “Please, go ahead and take a seat.”

She seemed almost reluctant to let him help, but did as he asked. He deposited the suitcase in the back of the SUV as she climbed into the passenger seat. “Did you have a nice flight?” he asked as he pulled away from the curb. She had turned to look back at the terminal and took a second to look forward again. Was there something back there? He glanced into his rearview mirror and saw nothing but a sea of cars. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, avoiding eye contact. “And my flight was fine. How is Tess?”

“Pretty miserable,” he said.

“Has she told you anything?”

“No. But I was referring to her head cold as well as her emotional state.”

“She hasn’t even said where she went after she left home all of a sudden?”

“Not a thing. I only heard from her once in all that time and that was right before Christmas. She texted me but never responded when I texted her back.”

“That’s about the same thing that happened to me, too,” Sierra said. “But I’m surprised she tuned you out. I know you’ve done your best to visit her every few months and get along with her dad. She even came out to your ranch once or twice, right?”

“Yes. And I’ve flown to LA. She’s a nice kid who seemed to get lost in the shuffle.”

Sierra nodded, the assessing look back in her eyes. “Frankly, I’m surprised she wants me to come at all. She’s been angry with me for years.”

“I wouldn’t take it personally. She’s just kind of confused. And I, for one, am very glad you’re here,” he added. “I can tell she’s scared of something, but she insists she wants to talk to both of us. I was hoping you two had made some inroads with each other.”

“I wanted her to come stay in New York with me after our mom died,” Sierra said, “but Doug was her legal guardian and he insisted she stay with him in LA. There wasn’t much I could do about it. I think Tess thought I didn’t want her. And I don’t know... I was about eighteen at the time and she was what, six or seven? I’d seen little of her since before she started kindergarten. I tried to stay in touch but after her dad hooked up with that woman—” She paused and cast him a quick look. “Sorry, I forgot for a second that Mona is your mother.”

“I’m under no illusions when it comes to my mother,” he assured her. “She left about five minutes after I was born and never looked back. Don’t worry about offending me.”

“Well, in that case, let’s just say Mona got caught up in what was left of Doug’s Hollywood glamour. She didn’t want Tess around, or me, either, for that matter. Unfortunately, Doug is about as perceptive as a cantaloupe. Tess was problematic and he dealt with it by ignoring her. Those two people are hopeless as parents, but I’m still surprised that they didn’t do more to find her when she walked out in October.”

“Mom said that Tess stormed off in that car Doug bought her. She was eighteen, legally an adult. I think it was easier for both Mom and Doug to throw up their hands. And you have to remember this was right after Mona caught good old Doug fooling around at his restaurant and kicked him out. When Tess left the next day I think Mona said good riddance to both of them.” He shook his head. “People, right? Give me a horse any day.”

She studied him for a second and he glanced at her. “Something wrong?”

“No, nothing. I’ve just never met...well, someone like you before.”

“Someone like me,” he mused. “What does that mean?”

“You’re a cowboy.”

He flashed her a smile. “What gave it away? The hat, the boots, the saddle in the back? Or maybe it’s the subtle whiff of cow lingering in the air?”

“All of the above,” she said, but her voice revealed she knew he was teasing her. “Of course, in my line of work it pays to be observant.”

“And I bet you don’t miss much.”

“I’m not sure if I do or not. Exactly how far into the middle of nowhere is your ranch located?” she added as they left the Boise city limits.

“About two hours north of here.” He was aware of her disappointment upon hearing that. “Listen, there’s not all that much to see between here and there,” he added. “Why don’t you close your eyes for a while so you’ll be fresh when we get there?”

“I couldn’t do that,” she said.

“Why not?”

She shrugged lovely shoulders. The gesture seemed out of character for her, like a tiny little beachhead of uncertainty. “It would seem, I don’t know, too familiar, I guess.”

“Don’t worry. If you snore I won’t tell a soul.”

“I do not snore,” she said.

He smiled at her. “Go ahead. Close your eyes. I’ll turn on the radio so I can’t hear any little snorts or grunts—”

“I don’t snort or grunt, either,” she said, but this time she laughed. “Okay, I’ll try to get a little sleep. My eyes feel like sandpaper. Wake me up before we’re actually there, okay? I’d like to orient myself.”

“Sure thing.” He fiddled with the FM station until he found easy listening music that shouldn’t keep her awake, but realized almost instantly it would take a brass marching band to accomplish that. One second she was sitting kind of stiffly in her seat, tilted cautiously toward the window, and the next her head had rolled forward until her chin touched her collarbone. She didn’t look all that comfortable, but he resisted the urge to shift her. Something told him she was not the kind of woman to touch, even innocently, while she slept.

* * *

SIERRA OPENED DOOR after door along a darkened hallway. Each held the very same man, a guy of about fifty with a shiny bald head. “Have you seen Tess?” she asked each in turn and they all responded negatively in Greek. There was only one door left and she put her hand on the knob. At that moment the earth shook and she tumbled out of her dream and into an SUV.

Pike Hastings looked at her. “Sorry. I tried to rouse you when we hit Falls Bluff, but you were out like a light. I figured nobody could sleep through the cattle guard. It can be a little rough if you’re not used to it, though.”

She turned to look behind her, but there wasn’t much to see. In fact, there wasn’t a whole lot to see no matter which way she looked. Just mountains, fences, trees, a long line of power poles straight ahead and an endless stretch of rolling pastures. For a woman used to towering skyscrapers and hordes of people, it was disconcerting to see so much...nothing.

“Is this it?” she said. “Is this your ranch?”

“You sound disappointed.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “It all looks very...peaceful.”

“It can be,” he agreed.

She studied him again. He’d taken off the cowboy hat when he got behind the wheel, so she could see his profile clearly and there was nothing about it anyone could fault. The occasional flash of his dark blue eyes as he addressed her was pretty darn galvanizing as well, as was the clarity of his expression. He did not look like the kind of guy who lied or cheated or bamboozled, and she should know—she’d met her fair share of all of the above.

Of course, that could just mean he was really good at dissembling, but she kind of doubted it. Wearing jeans and a leather jacket, he looked decidedly casual and yet also as though he could fit in almost anywhere. This was a trait she valued as a detective. It was fine to stand out when you needed or wanted to, but you also had to be something of a chameleon to get the job done.

The drive down the more-or-less straight road seemed to stretch on forever. Here and there crossroads led toward the mountains and she caught glimpses of buildings, perhaps houses. “Is this all Hastings land?”

“It is.”

“Do you live in one of those buildings they have in old Westerns?”

“What kind of building do you mean?” he asked with a sidelong glance.

“You know, a bunkhouse.”

“No, I live in a barn,” he said.

“In a barn!” She sounded incredulous and he smiled.

“Yeah, a barn.”

“With animals and everything?”

“Yeah,” he said, with another quick glance. “This your first ranch?”

“You can tell?”

“I just guessed.” He drove up a hill and suddenly the view changed as a small valley spread below them. Bisected by a shimmering gray river, the acreage on the peninsula that the U-shaped bend in the river created looked stark and icy and terribly remote. A big, old, wood house sat in a protected alcove. Surrounded with covered decks, the house appeared well cared for. What looked like work buildings sat off at a distance. Pale winter light glinted off the frosty shore of the river.

“My father’s place,” Pike said.

“Is this where Tess is?”

“That’s right. She’s afraid to be alone.”

Sierra gestured at the half-dozen vehicles gathered in the back. “All family,” Pike said. “And I’ll be damned, Frankie must be here. That’s his truck. Haven’t heard from him in a couple of weeks, which in and of itself isn’t unusual. Of course, him being here probably means he’s brought some kind of trouble.”

“Frankie is one of your brothers?”

“The youngest. Gerard is the oldest, then Chance and me and Frankie.”

“It’s hard to watch someone you love struggle with life, isn’t it?”

Pike didn’t answer right away and then finally he allowed himself a sigh. “I guess that’s one way to put it. Of course, he wouldn’t think of himself like that. He’s just a little more...creative...than your usual cowboy. And lord knows he doesn’t back down for anyone.” He shook his head and added, “I shouldn’t be talking about him.”

She looked past his long lashes and the intensity of his gaze, peering deep into him. “I didn’t mean to prod,” she said after a moment. “Tess is my only relative and I rarely see her. Apparently I’m rusty when it comes to concepts like family loyalty.”

“I don’t know. You dropped everything and flew here with very little warning,” he said. “Sounds to me like you know exactly what loyalty is about.”

“This might be my last chance to make it all up to Tess,” she said quietly with a quick sweep of her eyes. “Ever since she disappeared, I’ve been thinking I should have tried harder.”

“Well, you’re here now,” Pike said. “And that’s what counts.”

As they pulled in beside the other vehicles, the back door opened. Another tall man, who looked enough like Pike to identify him as one of the brothers, waved from the opening and strode across the yard to meet them, joined by three dogs. One looked like the Lab her father had had for years, and the other two looked like border collies. Sierra didn’t consider herself to be much of an animal person, though she could enjoy the simple adoration that shone in a dog’s eyes. And you had to admire their perpetual good moods.

One of the dogs jumped on her as she got out of the vehicle, planting muddy paws eight inches above her waist, and she winced as her dry cleaner’s disapproving face popped into her head.

“Get down,” Pike admonished. He produced a clean cloth from one of his pockets and held it in front of her, staring at the mud, obviously flummoxed by how to help her without invading her privacy as the smear was right across her breast area. She took the cloth from him and wiped off as much as she could.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No problem.” It had been stupid to wear suede. She’d just figured there’d be more concrete and less dirt.

“Silly dog,” the approaching man said as he rubbed the mutt’s ears with his left hand and offered Tess his right. “You must be Sierra. I’m Gerard. We’re real glad to have you here. I know Pike has been worried about your sister.”

“I think everyone has,” Sierra said. “Where is she?”

“Upstairs, finally getting some sleep,” he said.

Pike hit the side of the blue truck. “When did Frankie arrive?”

“Dad said he sailed in about forty-five minutes ago. He’s been waiting for you to get back. He wants to talk to everyone at once.”

“Just like my sister wants a family confab,” Sierra said. “Must be something in the air around here.”

“Is everything okay with Frankie?” Pike asked as he opened the tail of the SUV and took out Sierra’s suitcase.

“I’m not sure,” Gerard said. “Let’s go find out.”