Point Blank Protector

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Joanna Wayne was born and raised in Shreveport, Louisiana, and received her undergraduate and graduate degrees from LSU-Shreveport. She moved to New Orleans in 1984, and it was there that she attended her first writing class and joined her first professional writing organisation. Her first novel, Deep in the Bayou, was published in 1994.

Now, dozens of published books later, Joanna has made a name for herself as being on the cutting edge of romantic suspense in both series and single-title novels. She has been on the Waldenbooks bestsellers list for romance and has won many industry awards. She is a popular speaker at writing organisations and local community functions and has taught creative writing at the University of New Orleans Metropolitan College.

She currently resides in a small community forty miles north of Houston, Texas, with her husband. Though she still has family and emotional ties to Louisiana, she loves living in the Lone Star state. You may write to Joanna at PO Box 265, Montgomery, Texas 77356, USA.

Point Blank Protector

Joanna Wayne

This book is for all my Texas friends who have taught me about the ranching lifestyle and to every woman who enjoys reading about cowboy heroes. And a kiss to my hubby for not complaining when I became so engrossed in writing the book that I forgot to cook dinner.

Prologue

The night was pitch-black when Kali Cooper stepped out of her mud-encrusted Jeep to open the gate to the Silver Spurs Ranch. Her ranch.

She still hadn’t quite gotten her mind around the fact that she was the actual owner of the spread she’d loved since her first and only visit fifteen years ago. But after months of court battles with the son of her late grandfather’s third wife, it was official.

Grandfather Gordy’s will had been clear and absolutely legal. As long as she lived on the land for a year, it was hers. She planned to live here forever.

The wind cut through her denim jacket and she could smell the approaching rain. She picked up her pace as lightning cut a jagged scar across the night sky followed by a loud clap of thunder.

The weather channel had predicted a line of moderate to severe storms followed by an arctic cold front that was dipping all the way to the Gulf of Mexico and bringing with it temperatures near the freezing mark. Even for mid-February, that was cold for the Houston area.

Wings fluttered above her and something rustled the grass as the gate swung open and clanked against the metal post. An eerie uneasiness crept along her nerve endings along with the awareness of just how alone she really was. According to her research, the closest ranch was Jack’s Bluff, owned by the very wealthy Collingsworth family, and even as the crow flies, that was over a mile away.

She hurried back to the Jeep, drove across the cattle gap then jumped out to close and latch the heavy metal gate. Five minutes later, she pulled up in front of the old homestead.

Caught in the ghostly glow of her headlights, the one-story structure seemed to crawl out at odd angles from the front porch. It was smaller than she remembered it, but then thanks to the feud between her father and grandfather, she hadn’t been here since she was eleven.

That was the summer she’d experienced her first case of serious puppy love. The object of her affections had been Zach Collingsworth, and she’d fawned and drooled over him like the naive kid she’d been. Here’s hoping he wouldn’t remember her. With luck, he’d also be paunchy and balding, with a wife and several kids.

She reached for her flashlight and was about to kill the engine and cut off the lights when she saw what appeared to be a person running from the house. Panic shot through her, but when another streak of lightning made the scene as bright as day, all she saw were tree branches swaying in the wind.

She really was letting the isolation get to her. The house was empty and had been for months. The livestock had been sold and the help let go when her grandfather had died.

She stepped from the car just as lightning struck again, this time a dazzling needle of electricity that followed a direct path from sky to ground and seemed to strike mere yards away. The thunder that followed was deafening.

The first drops of rain pricked Kali’s face as she made a wild dash for the covered porch. She was stamping the mud from her boots when her gaze caught and held. She stared, at first not willing to believe her eyes, but the stream of crimson spilling out the door was all too vivid.

Her heart slammed against her chest, and this time she didn’t try to convince herself she was imagining things. She started to run and was almost to her car before her powers of reason pushed through the adrenaline rush.

Paint—not blood. That was it, of course. She sucked in a huge gulp of damp air as the picture became crystal-clear. Hade Carpenter only lost the ranch to her if she lived here for a full year. He probably planned to make sure she didn’t last a night, so he’d come out here with his Halloweenish tricks to frighten her away. Nice try, but it wouldn’t work.

Bracing herself for what she’d find inside, she marched back to the porch and turned the doorknob. The door was unlocked and it creaked and whined open at her touch.

One look inside and she knew the blood was real.

Chapter One

Lenora Collingsworth loved frigid Saturday mornings when her family gathered around the huge stone fireplace in the family den instead of all going their separate ways. Not that she didn’t love spring and fall. Even hot south Texas summers had their high points, but still there was something special about having all your children warmed by the same crackling blaze.

Her twin grandsons were missing for the moment, having donned their jackets and escaped out the back door to toss around a football and have a good excuse to tackle and scuffle. David and Derrick were seven years old and a joy to have around.

Still it broke Lenora’s heart that her oldest daughter was separated from their father. The boys needed him. So did Becky for that matter. The problem was she’d married a man as stubborn as she was.

So Becky and the boys were back on Jack’s Bluff Ranch with the rest of the Collingsworth clan. Well, technically, Langston didn’t live at the ranch. He and his wife Trish and their teenage daughter Gina lived in Houston during the week. His duties as president of Collingsworth Oil pretty much demanded it, but they spent most weekends at the ranch.

And much to Lenora’s delight, Trish was pregnant. She couldn’t wait to cuddle a grandchild in her arms again. She’d already pulled the antique cradle that all her children had slept in from storage. Their neighbor Billy Mack was restoring it.

She was lucky her children were tied to the land and family but still independent with minds of their own and clear goals for their lives. At least most of them were. At twenty-six, Zach and Jaime didn’t seem tied to anything but having a good time.

Jaime was a free spirit. Zach was her jet-setter. Except for a couple of brief stints working for Collingsworth Oil, Zach had spent the two years since graduating from the University of Texas roaming Europe. Getting the feel for the foreign business relations he’d majored in, he claimed.

As far as she could tell, most of the relations he’d explored had been with beautiful young females and the business had been that of enjoying himself immensely. But even with the extensive travels, he’d retained his cowboy charm. Jack’s Bluff definitely got into a person’s blood.

Nonetheless, the bottom line was that it was past time for Jaime and Zach to get their acts together.

She’d love to see them settle in the way Bart and Matt had. Both worked full time running the ranch and had built homes right here at Jack’s Bluff. Bart lived with his new wife Jaclyn on Scuttle Creek. Jaclyn was a dear and the perfect mate for Bart.

Matt lived alone in a rambling structure built on the edge of the woods and overlooking a waterhole favored by the many deer in the area. She had high hopes he’d find his soul mate soon, but for now he seemed perfectly happy without one.

Lenora went to the kitchen for a refill on hot chocolate and brought the pot back to the den with her. “More cocoa, anyone?”

“Thanks, Grandma. I’d love more,” Gina said, lifting her blue pottery mug and then groaning as Jaime placed the letters Z, A and X on the Scrabble board.

“You better watch Jaime,” Zach said. “I hate to say it but I’m certain my twin sister cheats. That’s the only way she could ever have beaten me at anything.”

“It’s called division of the genes,” Jaime scoffed. “You got the brawn. I got the brains—and the good looks.”

“In your dreams.”

The doorbell rang. They all looked up, though no one made a move toward the door.

“Is anyone expecting company?” Lenora asked.

No one was. Langston folded the section of the Houston Chronicle he’d been reading, stood and started to the door. “It’s probably just Billy Mack.”

Lenora thought he was likely right. Their neighbor had taken to coming around a lot more often of late. Living alone had to be tough on him. Not that he’d ever admit it.

But the booming voice she heard next didn’t belong to Billy Mack. A few seconds later Langston ushered Sheriff Ed Guerra into the den.

“I hate to bust in on you like this,” Ed said, “but there’s a problem over at the Silver Spurs Ranch. I thought you should be alerted.”

“What kind of problem?” Langston asked.

“Guess you know that Gordon Cooper’s granddaughter inherited his spread.”

“We heard that months ago,” Lenora said, “but apparently there were some kinks in the will that had to be ironed out.”

“She got here last night,” the sheriff said, “and her welcome to Colts Run Cross wasn’t the most hospitable.”

Bart stepped over to where Langston and the sheriff were standing. “How inhospitable are we talking?”

“As in there was a body with a couple of bullet holes in it waiting for her just inside the door.”

Lenora’s chest tightened, and her gaze went immediately to Gina. She wasn’t sure her teenage granddaughter needed to hear Ed’s uncensored version of this. Trish had obviously decided the same thing. She was already doing the boot-scoot routine with Gina to get her through the doorway that led to the kitchen.

“Gina and I will make coffee,” Trish said.

Ed gave her an understanding nod. “Best idea I heard today.” He waited until she and Gina were out of sight. “The rest of you females might want to join them. This ain’t a pretty story.”

“Can’t be worse than the nightly news,” Jaime said. “Besides, if there’s a murderer in our midst, we’re going to hear about it soon enough.”

“You can be sure of that. But you folks being the closest neighbors, I thought I should tell you about it first. Thought maybe you could check in on Kali Cooper, too. She’s pretty shaken up by this—not that I blame her none. Poor lady’s single and staying out there by herself.”

“Why don’t you take a seat and start at the beginning?” Matt said.

Ed dropped to the corner of the couch, took off his worn black Western hat and held it in his lap, fingering the brim as he talked. “I got a call from the 911 operator about midnight, right in the thick of the storm. She said she had a frantic caller on the phone claiming she was standing over a murder victim.”

Lenora was sucked into the dread as she listened to the rest of the story. How frightening for a young woman to walk into what she thought was an empty house and find that macabre scene waiting for her. “How old is Kali Cooper?”

“Twenty-six,” Ed said. “The victim looks to be even younger. She might even be a teenager.”

Maybe as young as her granddaughter Gina. A bone-chilling shiver climbed Lenora’s spine. “Do you know the identity of the victim?”

“Not yet, but we do know that no one’s been reported missing from our immediate area.”

“How long had she been dead?” Matt asked.

“Best estimate is that she was shot within an hour of the time Kali arrived on the scene. Kali was damned lucky she didn’t walk in on the killing. If she had we’d likely be investigating two murders today.”

Becky walked to the window and looked out. Lenora knew she was assuring herself the boys were fine.

“Kali must be horrified.” Jaime said.

“Yeah, but that girl’s got grit. She stayed at the motel in town last night. I didn’t want her living in the crime scene until we had a chance to comb it thoroughly. But I gave her clearance to return an hour ago, and she’s already back on the premises.”

“Zach can go check on her,” Lenora said.

“I knew I could count on you folks for that,” Ed said. “And until we get a handle on things, it wouldn’t hurt to be careful, especially you women. No tellin’ where the killer is now.”

Lenora stayed back as her three oldest sons walked to the front door with the sheriff, Matt still asking questions.

Zach propped a booted foot on the hearth. “How did I get elected to go check on the new neighbor?”

“You and Kali are the same age and you played together when you were children.”

“That was fifteen years ago.”

“See, you remember her, and I’m sure she’ll remember you. Having a friend show up after last night will be more reassuring than having a stranger show up at her door.”

“I remember her because she was as annoying as a burr in a sock and kept following me around.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“He’s shaking in his boots,” Jaime teased. “Want me to tag along and protect you?”

“Scared has nothing to do with it. I just don’t like calming hysterical women. What if she starts crying?”

“Hand her a tissue,” Lenora said. “And don’t come on to her. This isn’t the time for that.”

“Give me a little credit.” Zach left through the kitchen door, but returned a second later wearing a black leather jacket and holding his Stetson.

“That was quick,” Jaime said. “I think your complaints were camouflage. Looks to me like you’re eager to hook up with this old flame.”

“I’m just going to get my neighborly duties over with before Mom hands me a basket of goodies to deliver.”

“Great idea,” Lenora said. “Juanita baked yesterday and there should be plenty of the lemon tea cakes left.”

Zach groaned. “This isn’t a tea party.”

“You win, Zach. I’ll give her the cookies later, but I want you to insist she join us for dinner tonight. If she’s afraid to stay on the ranch alone, just bring her back with you now.”

“Okay, but if she’s as weird as she was as a kid and starts stalking me, it’s on your conscience.”

“I’ll live with it,” Lenora said, smiling. “But be careful, Zach, and I don’t mean of Kali.”

“If you’re worried, you can send Matt. He’s older and—well, he’s older.”

“You’ll do fine. Just be careful.”

But he was already heading for the back door, his cocky swagger a discomforting reminder that he wasn’t afraid of anything and that being wary would never cross his mind. Maybe sending him to see Kali wasn’t the best idea after all.

“Relax, Mom,” Jaime said, no doubt reading her concern. “I’m sure the killer is long gone. If he wasn’t, Sheriff Guerra would already have him in custody.”

“That makes sense,” Lenora said. Still she worried. It was her job. She was a mother.

ZACH WAS not looking forward to playing comforter to Kali Cooper, but he’d love to go toe to toe with the cowardly skunk who’d murdered a young woman. He hadn’t wanted to belabor the point with his mother or Jaime, but what kind of deranged pervert got his rocks off like that?

Zach kept his eyes peeled for anything suspicious as he made the short drive to the Silver Spurs Ranch. He’d taken Bart’s pickup truck instead of his own new Jaguar. The main roads at Jack’s Bluff were graded regularly and kept in excellent condition, but the ones at the Silver Spurs were another story.

He slowed as he turned right on Cooper’s Road. That wasn’t the official name of the blacktop that dead ended at the front entrance to the Silver Spurs Ranch, but that was the only thing Zach or probably anyone else around here had ever heard it called. And there was no road sign to suggest they were wrong.

The fence posts along the edge of the road were leaning and there were several breaks in the strings of barbed wire. Old man Cooper had kept the place in top-notch shape when he was able, but it had fallen into disrepair when his health had started to fail, and it had gone downhill even faster during the months since his death.

That might explain why a killer had found his way to the spot. He could have gotten lost and wound up on the dead-end road. One look and he’d have figured that the ranch was deserted.

The gate was open and banging in the wind when Zach reached it. He drove through, then got out of his truck and closed and latched it. Not that there were any livestock to worry about or that closing it would deter a killer, but latching gates was a habit everyone growing up on a ranch learned early in life.

As he’d suspected, the ranch road was a muddy slush and he dodged potholes and trenches where the squad cars had slewed around them. He wondered as he did what a city girl was going to do in a place like this. He could imagine her now, traipsing through the mud in fancy, high-heeled boots with her skinny arms swinging at her side and her red hair flying about like a horse’s mane.

Probably more of a pain now than she’d been that long-ago summer when she’d followed him around like a sick calf. Still, he felt bad that she’d arrived to a bloody welcome.

He pulled up in front of the house and was about to step out of the pickup when the front door of the house flew open. A young woman stepped onto the porch with a shotgun in hand. If the woman was Kali, she looked a lot different all grown up.

He climbed from behind the wheel and waved a greeting. “Zach Collingsworth,” he said. “I’m a neighbor, and I’d feel a bit more welcome if you’d aim that gun in another direction.”

“You’re Zach?” she said, sounding a bit shocked. Guess he’d changed in fifteen years as well. Unfortunately, the gun was still aimed at his eyeballs.

“I heard you had some trouble last night. I came over to see if I can help.”

“That’s nice of you, but everything’s under control.”

“Not if you plan on shooting everyone who stops by.”

“Not everyone,” she said, “just the ones who look like trouble.”

But his new voluptuous neighbor had finally lowered the gun. He took that for an invitation, so he grinned and headed for her porch. Suddenly renewing old friendships and offering comfort didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

Chapter Two

“I really am okay,” Kali said, when Zach joined her on the porch.

“I believe you, but since I’m here you might as well invite me in.”

“The house isn’t exactly ready for guests.”

“That’s okay, as long as you don’t expect me to grab a mop.”

“I make no promises, but if you’re not afraid of dirt and bugs, come on in.”

The front door opened directly into a large dark-paneled room with a brick fireplace. The heavy oak tables, two brown tweed sofas and a couple of rocking chairs were covered in a thick layer of Texas dust and a substance Zach guessed to be fingerprint powder.

The windows were so streaked with grime that the bright rays of late-morning sunshine could barely fight their way through. Worse, every nook and cranny sported a filigreed network of spiderwebs.

“I see what you mean,” he said. “No offense but the place looks like a haunted house at an amusement park.”

Only this time the dead body had been real. And Kali had walked in on the scene late at night and in the middle of a thunderstorm. He’d have expected her to be speeding down the Interstate by now heading back to wherever it was she’d come from. Instead she was swatting at a wasp that had just dive-bombed her.

Zach picked up one of the stained towels she’d obviously been using for cleaning and slammed it and the wasp against the wall. When the struggling insect fell to the floor, he squashed it under the toe of his boot. “Save you from having to waste a shotgun shell on him,” he teased.

“Not funny.”

She was right, he decided as he eyed the bloodstain on the floor. “Your arrival last night must have been a shocker.”

“To say the least.”

“Yet you came back out here today. That takes guts.”

“I don’t have a choice. I quit my job in Atlanta and sold everything I owned except my Jeep and the belongings I could stuff into it so that I’d have funds to get the Silver Spurs up and running again.”

“Surely you’re not planning to do that by yourself?”

Her eyebrows arched. “You think I can’t because I’m a woman?”

A loaded question that called for an evasive answer. “I just wondered if… I wondered if you were married.” A blatant lie, but better than getting her riled.

“I’m not married, but I’m not some helpless Southern belle, either. I’m used to taking care of myself.”