José knew Matt wouldn’t even discuss doing anything else with the ammo, he sniffed again and continued talking about Skylar. “I wonder who in the ATF came up with the horse-magazine reporter as a cover idea.”
Matt grinned. “I have to say, it’s brilliant.” He was known for his love of his Arabian horses, and he had a full-time team who worked on showing them around the country. He had a second full-time team who stayed here at the ranch. They took care of breeding and training and all the other things that came with having a successful horse ranch.
Leaving Matt to focus on his overarching goal: vengeance. He let his grin slide off his face, replacing it with a frown.
“When this is all over, you know it won’t bring them back,” José said for what had to be the hundredth time.
“Are you taking up psychoanalysis?” Matt asked as he always did. “If so, stop.”
José shook his head. “Fine. But what about the Fed? Are you letting her in the house for meals?”
“Sure, why not?” Matt shrugged. “I don’t really have a problem with her. Plus, she’ll be easier to keep an eye on if I keep her close.”
José’s knowing smile made Matt grimace. “And it doesn’t hurt that she’s easy on the eyes, does it?”
Refusing to dignify that remark with a reply, Matt snatched up his hat and stalked off to check on his barn. He’d hired several new barn helpers and wanted to make sure they stuck to the established schedule. Nothing upset a horse worse than a deviation from its normal routine.
It dawned on him that he’d become a lot like that, too.
Shaking his head, he realized it might be time to mix things up. Since he was planning for a big showdown to occur soon, he’d damn well better be ready.
* * *
After photographing the barn horses and the surrounding area for future reference, Skylar strolled outside toward the pasture. Twenty or thirty head of horses grazed lush grass under the cloudless sky. She took several more photographs, knowing when this investigation was over she’d be able to use some of these for her growing portfolio. Photography as a hobby brought her more enjoyment with each passing day. It was the only other thing besides her job that she could lose herself in for hours at a time.
She thought of Matt with his craggy features and easy-limbed grace. If possible, she’d like to sneak in a few shots of him, but only when he wasn’t aware. She’d bet he’d make an interesting subject.
She snapped the pasture in all four directions, knowing she could enlarge the digital images later and study them for any anomalies.
“Are you still out here?”
Speak of the devil. Matt had come up behind her unnoticed. Either he was able to move with a lot of stealth, or she’d been way too involved with her camera.
Glad she hadn’t jumped, she turned slowly. “I can’t get enough of your beautiful horses,” she said, meaning it.
He wore a black cowboy hat, putting much of his face in shadow. She felt heat begin a slow burn somewhere in her stomach.
The odd look he gave her told her he didn’t believe her, as though he’d seen her taking additional shots of the pasture, barn and outbuildings. Ignoring the uneasy feeling tickling her spine, she leaned on the fence and busied herself snapping a few more photos. This time she made sure they were only of the horses.
“I’m surprised you didn’t go get your dog,” he said. “A dog like that would love running through the pasture, especially if you brought her a Frisbee.”
Surprised, she glanced at him. “She does love her Frisbee.”
He graced her with another one of his devastating smiles that sent her pulse into overdrive. “You did bring it, didn’t you?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “No. I planned on taking her for a walk after dinner. On a leash, so I can get a feeling for how she’s going to react.”
“I thought you said she was used to horses.”
“She is. Or rather, was.” Fidgeting with her camera, she squinted up at him in the early-afternoon sun. “It’s been a while since I owned them. I probably need to take it slowly with her.”
As she stared at him, his smile slowly faded. He made her uneasy. And not for the usual reasons. It wasn’t because he struck her as particularly dangerous’she’d been around a lot worse characters than this millionaire cowboy who apparently amused himself by dabbling in illegal ammunition sales.
No, it was more of a physical-appeal thing’she felt his presence like a punch in the gut, making it difficult for her to catch her breath. She didn’t like this and needed to find a way to cope with it.
Oddly enough, she sensed Matt felt equally uncomfortable around her. Despite his brash self-confidence, she sensed this was as much an act as her pretend photojournalist job.
The next instant she nearly snorted out loud. She needed to stop overanalyzing him and do her job.
Making a show of glancing at her watch, she managed a fake smile of her own. “I’d better get going. I need to unpack, let Talia out and freshen up before dinner.”
He nodded. “See you then.”
Batting her eyelashes and hoping she wasn’t overdoing it, she looked at the house, shadowed by the towering oak trees. “Will there be a lot of people at dinner?” She kept her tone deceptively casual.
“No.” He tugged his hat lower, hiding his eyes. “Just me and my friend José, and of course a few of my staff.”
His staff. She nearly shook her head. Unlike the rest of the world, the man was filthy rich, with filthy being the operative word. No one knew where he’d gotten his millions, but she had no doubt they hadn’t been by ethical means.
“See you later.” Turning away, he headed off. Unable to help herself, she once again watched him go. The inexplicable yearning she felt filled her with disgust as she headed back toward her little trailer.
Focus. On. The. Job.
So she would meet Matt’s right-hand man. Good. She planned to watch José Nivas like a hawk. In fact, after meeting Matt and noting his laid-back manner, she wouldn’t be surprised to learn José was behind the entire ammunition-smuggling operation. Once a criminal, always a criminal. Just like that thug who had robbed the bank and killed her husband, Robbie, and young son, Bryan.
Pushing the painful thought away, she grimaced. At least the shrink had been right about one thing. She’d taught herself coping mechanisms. These days, she considered herself fully functional’at least as a federal agent. As a woman, not so much. After all, how many women went around with a gaping hole where their heart used to be?
As she neared the trailer, Talia’s enthusiastic barking told her the dog had heard her arrival. Opening the camper door, she let the border collie jump and whirl around her in greeting. Locating the leash, she took her pet outside.
Once that was done, they went back inside and Skylar unpacked. She fed Talia and made sure she had a bowl of fresh water.
“Matt invited me up to the house to eat, Tali,” she said. Used to the one-sided conversations, Talia cocked her head and wagged her plumed tail.
“What do you think about that?” Skylar continued. Since the accident, she used her pet as a sounding board for everything and took comfort in hashing out her problems out loud. Another coping mechanism, she supposed. But it worked, so it was all good as far as she was concerned.
“I find the invitation suspect.” She ruffled the dog’s black-and-white fur. “But then, the fact that he’s letting a reporter from an obscure horse magazine stay in his guest trailer for ten days is kind of weird, too. Come on, how long does it take to come up with an article?”
Talia