leaned against the stall opposite the paint’s.
A flash of memory taunted her. Pounding hooves and a horse’s crazed whinny. She gasped and knew the memory was from the day of her fall. She had very little recollection of what had happened that day.
Four weeks ago, when she’d awakened in the middle of the field, the pain had taken her breath away. Christine Hampton, her trainer, had been on the phone screaming at the 911 dispatcher.
Now it seemed as if someone was trying to get in her barn. And Becca didn’t know if she had the strength to defend herself if that someone had evil on his mind.
* * *
Nathan Williams watched the trees pass by as his anger simmered beneath the surface. The conversation with Clay Starke had riled him, and he almost missed the turn for Becca Price’s gravel drive. He pressed the brake hard and made a quick turn in the right direction.
Once he knew he was back on track, he let the conversation he’d had not twenty minutes earlier run through his head. He’d been in Clay’s office, sitting across from the man who’d just asked him to spy on the woman who’d been his best friend since childhood.
Granted, they hadn’t spoken much in the past several years, but she’d meant the world to him once upon a time, and he was kicking himself over what he’d just agreed to do.
When Clay Starke, sheriff in the small town of Wrangler’s Corner, Tennessee, located about an hour outside of Nashville, had called asking for his help, Nathan had listened with the intention of letting Clay down gently.
However, when his friend had told him about Becca’s accident and that she was desperate for help, he hadn’t been able to say no. He’d come home and found out what was really going through Clay’s mind. “It’s possible she’s running drugs off her ranch and I need it proven one way or another.”
“There’s no way that’s possible.” He’d immediately defended Becca. “I’m not going to do it.” He’d shoved the chair back and stood, anger thumping through him. Betrayal burned in his belly. “You lied to me.”
Clay had leaned forward, regret and determination stamped on his lined face. “I didn’t lie. I just didn’t tell you everything because I knew this would be your reaction. I remember how crazy you were about Becca in high school.”
“Yeah, well, she wouldn’t give me the time of day, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?” At least not in the romance department. But she’d loved hanging out with him at his house and playing Sunday afternoon football in the big backyard with him and his dad.
Clay had sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’m at the end of my rope, Nate. People are dying. The last victim of an overdose, Donny Torres, was only nineteen years old. And while he had a rap sheet as long as your arm, he didn’t deserve to die.”
“I agree.”
“I talked to Donny’s parents. I’ve known them for a while now, and I knew Donny well. He was a hard case, I’ll admit. He didn’t hang around with the good guys, and his name has popped up several times in my various investigations. I think he knew a lot more about the drugs in this town than he was letting on. And...”
“And?”
“He had Becca’s cell phone number in his phone. When I asked her who he was and why he would have her number indicating a call from her, she said she didn’t know. I mean, she knew Donny, of course, it’s a small town. But she said she had no idea why he had her number in his phone and that she’d never called him.”
“Maybe she didn’t.”
“I pulled her records and they had a ten-minute conversation the day of her accident. Two days before that, they talked for six minutes, and a week before that, they talked for four and a half minutes. And there was a text message to him that said, ‘Shipment 125 4AM.’”
Nathan had frowned. Okay, that was kind of weird. “What did she say when you told her you had a record of the calls and the text?”
“She just shook her head and denied knowing anything about them. And honestly, she did look completely confused. But...I don’t know, Nate, I just don’t know. You and I’ve worked the bigger city crimes. You know what good actors some people are. My gut is saying she’s innocent, and my heart wants to agree, but the evidence is saying otherwise.”
“Did you get a warrant to search her place?”
Clay had grimaced. “Yes. Last week. I thought the message about the shipment might mean December 5, at four in the morning. I staked the place out that night and never saw a sign of anyone. But I’d already put off the search as long as I ethically could, so I had no choice but to go in. Rumors were swirling, and people were demanding something be done—especially Donny’s parents. I can’t say I blame them.”
“And?”
“And, I’m happy to say, we found nothing.”
“Did you use a drug dog?”
“Yes. I had a buddy bring one in from Nashville. The dog got a little antsy in the barn but never alerted to anything. We searched the barn anyway. Tore the place apart and still found nothing.”
“Then...could someone have it out for her and be trying to set her up?”
“Of course it’s possible, but again, I just don’t know. I mean, if someone was going to set her up, I would think we would have found something, not come away empty-handed.”
“Yeah. True.”
“I do know she’s hurting for money, and sometimes desperate people do desperate things.”
“Hurting for money?” Nathan had raised a brow. “With her parents? That’s not how I remember things. Her parents are loaded.”
“Becca and my aunt and uncle had a falling-out when she quit her job at the hospital and moved back to Wrangler’s Corner. I’m not sure they’ve spoken over the last year.”
“Whoa.”
“Yeah.” Clay had sighed and raked a hand through his dark hair. “Look. Whoever’s running these drugs through my town has to be stopped. If it’s Becca, then so be it. I need you to do this because I can’t be objective.”
“And you think I can?”
“You have to.” He’d pierced him with a hard look. “High school was a long time ago. You’ve moved on. You were engaged to another woman, which means you were over Becca.”
That was true. And, had he married Sylvia, he wouldn’t have thought twice about Becca. But Sylvia’s betrayal had shifted something inside of him. Made him long for the innocence and sweetness that had encompassed his relationship with Becca. He’d liked being with her, had respected her and, yes, wanted more than friendship, but knew she hadn’t, so he’d been content just to hang out with her. Until she moved.
He realized Clay was waiting for him to respond. “Yes, I was over Becca. What I felt for her was a teenage crush. And, yes, I truly loved Sylvia.” Which was why her betrayal had nearly gutted him. “But—”
“No buts. You need to keep your feelings out of it. She’s off-limits until we know for sure she’s not involved.”
The shock of Clay’s omission about Becca’s suspected involvement had faded, leaving a simmering anger. Nathan had jabbed a finger at the man he’d always looked up to and trusted. “You said you needed my help. You said there was a drug ring operating right under your nose. And you said that Becca was hurt and I could work for her while I decided whether or not I wanted to go back with the DEA. You just said you wanted me to investigate. You didn’t say anything about going undercover or suspecting that Becca was involved in the drug running.”
“Nath—”
“You want me to lie to her and I won’t do it.” He’d ended his tirade and rubbed his left