Chicken Caccia-Killer (A Jordan McAllister Mystery) (29 page)

In a flash, the animal slid under the lowest wire, yelping when he received the jolt. Once inside the pasture he raced toward them, and Jordan found herself wondering which was worse—getting eaten by a wolf or gored to death by a bull. When he closed in on them, Jordan saw that it was only a white Pyrenees with one black paw in front as he ran right past them and stopped close to the bull, challenging him.

Distracted by the dog, the bull turned toward him and pawed the ground with his hoof, just like he’d done minutes before at the two women. Jordan closed her eyes, not wanting to see the dog killed by the much bigger bovine. When she opened them, she was surprised to see the smaller animal zigzagging across the pasture in a race for his life.

Both Jordan and Ginny watched in total amazement as the dog led the bull toward the other cows and away from the tree. When the bull came to the area where the herd was grazing, he stopped and positioned himself in front of them, as if he were standing guard.

The dog stopped about two hundred yards away and lay on the ground, almost daring the bull to come and get him. After a few minutes of staring the bull down, the dog turned and made his way back to the tree. When he approached them, Ginny cried out, and Jordan grabbed her hand. Thoughts of the dog now turning on them were quickly dispelled as the animal trotted closer, wagging his tail.

When he was directly in front of them, he tilted his head, looked at her, and sat down. Cautiously, Jordan reached out and touched his head. When he seemed to like it, she began to run her hands down the length of his body. After he plopped down in front of her, she went to a full-out ear scratching, loving the way he continued to glare at the bovine herd as if daring them to come across to his side of the pasture.

Jordan continued to pet him, feeling the matted fur with her fingers. Although he didn’t have a collar on, he was too healthy looking, except for the matted coat, to be a stray.

With the bull crisis diverted, at least for the time being, Jordan looked toward the gate. There was no way Ginny could walk, and even less chance of Jordan being able to carry her. She decided their best shot was to wait until dark, make a run for the gate, and hope the bull didn’t have night vision.

Hours passed, as they waited for the sun to set and with it, a more tolerable temperature. Jordan was now soaked with sweat. When she looked over at Ginny and noticed that she wasn’t sweating at all, Jordan started to worry. In fact Ginny was staring straight ahead and her eyes seemed almost lifeless now, making Jordan wonder how much longer the woman could make it in this heat without clean water or food. “How are you doing?”

After a long pause, “I was just thinking about all the people in my life that I loved but never told,” she said sadly.

“You’ll get that opportunity. It’s getting dark, and I’ll be able to run for help.”

“I haven’t spoken to my best friend in over two years because of a fight over something so minor I can’t even remember what it was. And then there’s the preacher’s wife.” She continued talking as if she hadn’t heard what Jordan had just said. “I’ve been mad at her for months, too, over some stupid thing.”

Jordan reached over and pulled her closer. “Ginny, listen to me. You can’t get morbid now. You’re a fighter. I need you to think positive. Someone will come looking for us. I promise.”

Even as she said it, she knew she could offer nothing to back it up. There would probably be a manhunt for her, but no one would suspect Jeff Hamilton or search way out in the country. Their only hope was if she could find help or if a rancher wandered out their way to check on things.

“Close your eyes and try to get a little rest,” Jordan continued. “If I can’t find help, we’ll have to improvise and figure out a way to get you out of here.”

The dog lay beside them, now content and napping after getting a thorough workout with the bull. Jordan stroked the dog’s coat as she laid her head against the tree trunk and looked up, marveling at the beauty of the country sky. Watching the sun make its way over the horizon, she was amazed to already see the moon, only a sliver, but there nonetheless.

It was dusk now, and the fading sunlight cast an eerie glow over the stock pond, giving a shimmering appearance to the water. As she stared at the sky, only the chirping of the crickets and cicadas interrupted the quiet of the night.

Knowing the fence was charged was comforting when she heard the howls of a pack of coyotes from somewhere off in the darkness. It might not keep them out, but it would slow them down, along with any other animal that saw her and Ginny as a gourmet meal.

“I know I’m going to die out here,” Ginny said, her voice cracking. “I would give anything to see Carlita one last time.”

Jordan decided no amount of reassurance would work with Ginny so she tried another tactic. “I wish my friend Victor was here now. He’d know how to make us laugh and forget about all the bad stuff.”

At the mention of his name, Ginny’s body stiffened. “I was so mad at that man. No one has ever had the nerve to mention my mustache to me before.” She turned to Jordan. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I had it waxed off the very next day.”

“Carlita told me,” Jordan responded. “But I have to tell you something about Victor.”

Ginny sighed. “I really liked him and wanted him to like me back, but I guess he wasn’t interested.”

Jordan giggled. “He wouldn’t have been interested even if you looked like Miss America.”

An awkward silence followed before Jordan continued, “Now, if you were Mister America...”

It took a few seconds for that to sink in, and when it did, Ginny smiled for the first time since Jordan had found her. “My luck! I was never very good at—” She stopped when they heard tires moving on gravel.

Jordan rose to her knees and looked toward the road where a pair of headlights was coming toward them at a fast pace. The dog sat up beside her and began to growl softly, and she choked back a cry.

What if it was Jeff Hamilton coming back to make sure they were dead?

She turned to Ginny, whose eyes were now filled with terror. “It’s probably just a farmer. I’m going to walk over to the fence. As soon as I’m sure it’s not Hamilton, I’ll scream to get their attention. Stay here with the dog.”

She stood and made her way to the fence, planning to hit the ground if it was Jeff. Looking around for some kind of weapon to defend herself and once again finding nothing, she prayed the bull was either asleep or couldn’t see in the dark.

Her heart felt like it was beating out of her chest as the vehicle moved closer. Although she’d made light of Ginny’s regrets for not telling the people she loved how she felt, she couldn’t help thinking about her own list of things she wished she had done.

Like making an effort to get back home to see her parents and her brothers more often. It had been over three months, and that was way too long, considering it was only a five-hour drive from Ranchero to Amarillo.

And then there was her fear of saying the “L” word to Alex. Of course, she loved him—had from the very first time they’d made love. So why was she so afraid to tell him? He wasn’t Brett and wouldn’t break her heart the way he had. And even if he did, she wasn’t the same girl who had put her own dreams on hold to follow her ex around Texas while he chased his. She was stronger now.

But she might never have the opportunity to tell Alex how she felt now.

She jumped when the white dog suddenly appeared beside her and ran the length of the fence, barking at the oncoming vehicle.

So much for hiding from Hamilton
, she thought.

She stood silently by the fence until the vehicle was close enough to see it was a Suburban and not Jeff’s gray rental car. Jumping up and down, she hollered as loud as she could to get their attention.

On the other side of the fence the SUV passed by her, and she recognized Alex in the passenger seat of Ray’s car. The dog was beside her now and began to howl to match her screams.

The Suburban skidded to a halt about fifty yards ahead, and Alex jumped out as Ray backed up. When he raced toward her and reached for the fence, she shouted, “Don’t touch it! It’s charged.”

He pulled his hand back and stared at her. “Oh my God! I can’t believe we found you.”

“There’s a gate about five hundred yards that way,” she said, pointing. “Hurry. Ginny Bruno is alive and over by the tree, but there’s no way she can walk that far.” She turned toward the stock pond. “And there’s a bull loose over there. He’s already tried to kill us once.”

Alex’s eyes widened, and he shouted to Ray, “Back the SUV up to the fence. I’m going in.” When Ray had the truck positioned, Alex climbed onto the roof and without hesitating, leaped into the field.

“I’ll check out the gate,” Ray said before he peeled out in that direction.

“Between the two of us, we should be able to carry Ginny,” Jordan said. “She can help a little and—” She stopped when she heard a sound that she recognized from when she was up against the tree. “Oh my God, Alex, the bull.”

He turned and hollered. “Get Ginny and head for the gate. Hopefully, by then Ray will have found a way to get in and can help you.” He turned his attention to the bull that had left the herd and was now charging toward them. “Hurry,” he screamed.

Jordan took off running toward the tree and helped Ginny to her feet “Our only chance of getting out of here alive is if you’re able to help me. We need to go as quickly as we can.”

Ginny nodded. “I think I can do it.”

With Jordan supporting the small woman, they made their way across the pasture as Alex faced off the bull with the white dog at his side. As strong as Alex was, he was no match for the large bull and wouldn’t stand a chance one-on-one with the animal if it came down to that. She tried not to think about that happening and kept walking toward the gate, having to take on more of Ginny’s weight with each step. She worried the woman would give out before they got there.

As they closed in on the iron gate, the SUV burst through, sending pieces of the metal everywhere. Jordan turned to check on Alex and the dog, who were still managing to keep the bull at bay. But even at this distance, she could hear the ominous growls of the now incensed animal. Without warning, the bovine turned his attention to the dog and leaped to attack. She watched in horror as Alex jumped in front of the massive animal and grabbed him by the horns while the dog stood his ground and barked ferociously. But Alex looked like a hood ornament hanging from the huge bull before he was thrown over the animal’s head into the air, landing hard on the drought-hardened ground. The bull slowly turned 180 degrees to face Alex and pawed at the ground before going in for the kill.

“Alex!” Jordan screamed, right before she heard a gunshot. She looked up to see Ray outside the vehicle with a hunting rifle.

The bull stood still for a second before racing away from them, back toward the cattle. Jordan handed Ginny to Ray and ran to where Alex lay on the ground, praying he was still alive.

“I’m okay,” he said, even though she could see that he was holding his arm close to his side and his face was twisted in pain. “I may have cracked a few ribs and my shoulder is on fire.” He attempted to stand, and she gave him her hand to assist. As soon as he was upright, he asked, “Where’s Ginny?”

“In the car. Can you walk that far?”

He tried not to grimace. “I think my legs are fine.” He wrapped his arm around her. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
T
HREE

Ray helped Jordan get Alex into the backseat of the SUV. As soon as Alex was settled, Jordan took a seat beside him, while Ray jumped behind the wheel and put the car in drive. He handed Jordan back a bottle of water once they cleared the field.

Ginny was already in the front seat and having difficulties sipping from her own bottle of water.

Ray hauled ass to get back on the main road. “I need to get the three of you to the emergency room,” he said. “And you have some very anxious friends waiting to hear from you, Jordan.”

“I have Kate’s phone,” she said pulling it from her back pocket. “But there was no signal, so I couldn’t call for help.”

Alex looked over at Jordan. “Bars or no bars, you can thank your lucky stars you had her phone. It led us to you.”

Jordan tilted her head, confused. “How did a phone with no service lead you to us?”

“Kate told me she’d left it in Jeff’s hotel room but then he claimed he hadn’t seen it, so I played a hunch and had my friends at the FBI ping it.”

“Ping it?”

“Pinging can determine the location of a cell phone at any given point by using the phone’s GPS location capabilities. A lot of people would be upset to know that Uncle Sam can find out where they are with a reasonable degree of accuracy that way.”

Jordan could tell by Alex’s breathing that he was in a lot of pain.

“It acts like a GPS tracking system as long as the battery is still in the phone, with or without bars,” Ray explained. “When no one could locate you, Alex pinged your phone. It took us to a location well known to law enforcement agencies because of the gang activity. They found it and your purse in the abandoned car. Your wallet was missing, though, and the police assumed you had been robbed and kidnapped.”