Justice At Morgan Mesa. Jenna Night

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Justice At Morgan Mesa - Jenna Night


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to on the mesa today. I had no reason to think it was dangerous to do that. I know it was a long shot, but I guess I was hoping somebody might come out and join me to tell me something new about my dad. Maybe give me some new information on what happened to him twenty years ago. I let people know I was going to be there on the Heaton property because I wanted to make it easy for anyone who didn’t want to talk to me around other people, or who might be afraid of our conversation being recorded if they talked to me on the phone.”

      Rosa turned in her seat to face Vanessa. “Well, you need to make sure you don’t go to some isolated place alone again. Not until this creep is caught. And don’t tell strangers where you’re going to be.”

      Vanessa felt herself trembling again. She glanced in the rearview mirror to see if they were being followed. Of course they were. They were on the only road that led down from the mesa and it intersected with the four-lane highway heading into Torchlight. You could eventually get into Torchlight by following the unpaved county roads on the mesa, but it would add a good sixty miles to the trip. She tried not to be bothered by the headlights behind her, but she felt her shoulders tighten up all the same.

      “I’ll be very careful from now on, believe me,” Vanessa muttered, understanding the wisdom of the advice but still angered that she had to change what she did because of some violent crazy person.

      They were nearing the intersection with the highway. Torchlight was to the left. The Silver Horse Guest Ranch—her grandfather’s new home—was to the right, several miles away.

      “I bet you haven’t had dinner,” Rosa said. “We could load you up with pancakes and hot chocolate. All those carbs will make you sleepy.”

      “I’m too nervous to eat anything.”

      “Honey, I’ve been through some pretty hair-raising situations in my day,” Rosa said. “And my experience is that afterward you need some time with somebody you can talk to. Even if you don’t eat, you need to talk until you start to wind down a little. Then maybe when you get back to the ranch, you’ll be able to fall asleep.”

      Vanessa doubted she would get any sleep tonight. She was pretty sure anytime she closed her eyes she’d see that masked figure with that claw hammer and hear him laughing. She wanted to put that experience off for as long as she could.

      “Okay,” she said, turning left onto the highway. “Let’s go into town.”

      * * *

      The next morning, Levi turned off the highway at the sign that read Silver Horse Guest Ranch. He drove up the winding private road, early-morning sunlight filtering through the new spring leaves on the trees lining the way.

      This was an unannounced visit after last night’s strange attack up on Morgan Mesa. Between searching the area on and around the Heaton property for any evidence he could find and coordinating a search for the suspect, Levi hadn’t had as much time as he’d wanted to interview Vanessa. He hadn’t found the perpetrator last night and he was anxious to get the investigation moving forward today. The creep who liked to threaten women with a hammer needed to be locked up.

      Sometimes after a vicious attack, when a little time had passed, people remembered helpful details they hadn’t mentioned before. There was also the possibility that Vanessa had withheld some important bit of information intentionally last night, either because it was embarrassing or because it might incriminate her in some illegal activity. Levi wanted to talk to her while she was still a little off-balance from the attack and might find it difficult to hide the truth.

      His police SUV rattled as he drove over a cattle guard. The noise might wake up some of the ranch’s vacationing guests, but that would just add to the authenticity of their visit. From his own ranching childhood, he knew waking up early was an integral part of an authentic ranch experience.

      The Silver Horse Guest Ranch was sixteen miles east of town on what used to be a family-owned horse ranch. The family’s younger generation had sold out, and apparently the buyer had turned it into a guest ranch. Vanessa had told the patrol officer he’d handed her off to last night that she was staying here.

      After driving through a couple of curves in the winding dirt road, the view opened up to a fenced meadow on the left and a sprawling ranch house on the right. Beyond the ranch house, scattered among the trees, he spotted several small unfinished cabins. It looked like the guest ranch wasn’t open for business yet.

      A big blue storage trailer sat alongside the private drive with piles of raw lumber and paint cans stacked against it. The stables were tucked up fairly close to the ranch house with a big red barn and a couple of other storage buildings a little farther away.

      Levi parked his SUV in front of the ranch house and walked up the three steps to the wide front porch. There were four rocking chairs sitting out there, each one a different style and color. An ancient-looking calico cat occupied one cushioned seat. She lifted her head and slowly blinked as he walked up. He reached out to pat her head, half expecting her to run away before he could touch her. But she didn’t.

      After scratching the orange patch between her ears for a few seconds, he glanced up. The drapes were open at a pair of large windows beside the front door, and he could see Vanessa Ford inside seated in a straight-backed wooden chair, an elbow propped on the dining table beside it and her forehead pressed into the palm of her other hand.

      Across from her, a tall, sinewy man in dark jeans and a long-sleeved Western shirt paced back and forth. His hair was mostly steel gray with a few black streaks while his thick mustache was almost completely black. He waved both of his arms as he talked. “You should have woken me up and told me!”

      Levi was interrupting an argument. It sounded like it was about the attack on her last night. He stood by the window so they’d be able to see him, then reached over and knocked on the door.

      The man looked at him first. His face was red. Then Vanessa lifted her head to look toward him. The red marks he’d seen on her chin and the side of her face after she’d tripped and fallen last night had darkened into purple bruises. The man strode over to open the door and Levi introduced himself.

      “Sam Ford,” the man said in response. “Come on in, Lieutenant. I believe I have you to thank for saving my granddaughter’s life.” With that, he turned to glare at Vanessa.

      Vanessa shifted her gaze to Levi. Her eyes were squinted like she was in pain. Maybe a headache. He’d fallen and smacked his head a few times and he knew how she felt. He also understood the alternating emotions of buoyant relief and sinking terror once the adrenaline wore off after someone tried to kill you.

      Not that he was convinced the man who attacked her last night had truly intended to kill her. If so, she’d be dead now. The attack was almost theatrical. Fear was the goal. Now he needed some leads on who would do that to her and why.

      “Sorry to interrupt your morning,” Levi said as he stepped inside. They were in a dining area. Wood floors, oak table and chairs, a couple of potted plants, coffee mugs hanging from pegs on the wall, and not much else. The current residents hadn’t been settled in for very long. “I came out to ask Ms. Ford a few questions.”

      “You could have just phoned me,” she grumbled, running a fingernail up and down the handle of her coffee mug. “And call me Vanessa.”

      “I wasn’t aware you’d gotten your phone back.”

      Her shoulders dropped and she sighed. “I haven’t.”

      “We’ve got a good group of volunteers working with a couple of officers up on the mesa. They’re doing a second search of the Heaton property now that it’s daylight. If your phone is still up there, they’ll find it.”

      Levi felt another presence walk into the room and turned to see a second older gentleman, this one shorter than Mr. Ford, with sparse reddish hair. He was barrel-shaped and wearing a white cook’s apron. He walked from the kitchen area with a plate of muffins and a coffeepot. He set the muffins on the table and turned to Levi. “Good morning. Would you like some coffee?”

      “Sure,


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