“That tractor’s engine hasn’t turned over in two years. There’s no point paying a mechanic to fix it until we’re ready to plant our first crop. Go on ahead to the stable and I’ll meet you inside. I need a quick word with the other Miss Sorentino first.”

“Thank you, Miss Sorentino, ma’am.”

“Rachel will do. And you’re welcome.”

With a nod at Amy, he made his way to the stable.

Amy angled her gaze around Rachel to watch him walk away and gave a little whistle under her breath.

Rachel elbowed her hard in the ribs. “What the hell are you doing? You can’t ogle our employees. Besides, you’re engaged.”

“Technically, he’s your employee, not mine. Kellan knows good and well he’s all the cowboy I need, but just because I’ve got a ring on my finger doesn’t mean I’ve lost my appreciation for all the glories life has to offer.”

Against her better judgment, Rachel tipped her chin over her shoulder and snuck a furtive glance at the particular glory Amy was admiring. Damn it all, she was right. Ben Torrey knew how to fill out a pair of jeans just fine. Still, Rachel didn’t much care for younger men. Didn’t matter how good they looked, they never seemed to know what to do with a woman’s body, at least in her experience.

The peek she took must not have been all that furtive, because Amy started chuckling. “You’re checking him out, aren’t you? Go, Rach! There might be fire in you after all.”

There was plenty of fire in Rachel, but none she cared to reveal to her sister. “I was only curious if he found the stable, is all.”

“Sure you were.” Amy stuck her hands on her hips and gave Rachel a cockeyed look. “I’ve been getting the feeling lately that there’s more to your personal life than you’ve led me to believe.”

“My personal life is none of your business.”

“It is so my business, because I’m making it my business. I’m going to find you a man to bring to my wedding. Consider yourself warned.”

Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose and said another slow count to ten. “Back to Ben Torrey. Are you sure we can afford a foreman? That’s a huge expense.”

“Jenna crunched the numbers. She says we can. She’s starting him off at a decent salary, with bonuses in his contract for crop harvests and sales. I’m sure she’d show you the figures if you want. Your dream is to get the fields producing again. You’ve worked your whole life to help me and Jenna and the farm, so this is the two of us saying thank you and returning the favor the best way we can.”

“I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Amy threw her arms around her and hugged her hard. “Love you, sis.”

Rachel never knew what to say when Amy or Jenna got demonstrative with their affection. I love you sounded corny coming out of her mouth. Her sisters knew how she felt, even if she didn’t ever find a way to say it right.

She patted Amy’s back. “I’d best get into the stable before the horses get concerned about their unfamiliar visitor.”

Amy grinned and stepped away. “See you around noon for supper. Tell Ben he’s invited too. And I’ll see if Kellan has any eligible bachelor friends for you that might join us.”

Oh, boy. “How about you save yourself from a wasted effort by focusing your matchmaking skills on Jenna?”

Amy paused in the doorway, a sassy smile on her face. “Jenna already has a man set in her sights. It’s you who needs some sisterly guidance.”

* * *

By midday on Wednesday, Jimmy de Luca was cleared by his doctors for transfer to the medical wing of the county jail. Vaughn served his arrest warrant, then oversaw the transfer paperwork, and provided backup until de Luca was secure in the back of Reyes’s cruiser in the basement of the hospital parking garage.

Vaughn had executed a number of successful hospital-to-jail transports over the years, but he’d never seen a prisoner as nervous about it as de Luca. He askedfor a flak vest. He wanted to know the details of where and how he was getting from his room at the hospital into the safety—as he put it—of the jail.

“Who are you afraid of, Jimmy?” Vaughn asked him in the elevator.

“Everyone and no one,” Jimmy answered.

Helpful. Real helpful.

Figuring it wouldn’t hurt to take de Luca’s anxiety seriously, he pulled Kirby and Molina from patrol to escort Reyes’s car along the one and a half miles to the jail.

“Should we be on the lookout for Henigin and Baltierra? Do you think they’d want to get you, like maybe they figure you’ve turned on them?”

Jimmy swallowed hard, but didn’t answer. Yet his eyes were shifty the whole way down the hospital’s service elevator. He hunkered in the wheelchair like he was trying to melt into the vinyl seat, and when he climbed into the back of the patrol car, he slid so low in the seat he was practically sitting on the floor cross-legged.

Whatever de Luca was nervous about, nothing ever came of it. The transfer went off without incident. The prison guards and staff settled Jimmy de Luca into his new home in the medical wing to await sentencing, while Vaughn remained at the hospital for his daily date with Wallace Meyer Jr. and his lawyer.

Binderman stood watch inside Junior’s open door. He nodded at Vaughn from across the hallway, but maintained his guard posture. He was taller than his older brother Chris by an inch or two and had the same eager youthfulness that Vaughn had when he first started his career, though in Nathan it was tempered by the same natural even-keeled temperament all the Bindermans had been blessed with. Great qualities for a sheriff deputy to possess. With that attitude and his background in crime scene forensics, Nathan had already proven an invaluable addition to Vaughn’s department.

Billy Tsai sat in a chair in the hall, angling an entire muffin into his mouth. It didn’t quite fit, so crumbs rained over his dress shirt and tie as he chewed through partially open lips. When he saw Vaughn, his mouth snapped closed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Ever the professional, he stood to shake Vaughn’s hand, and Vaughn tried to ignore the crumbs raining from his clothes onto the floor, Tsai’s loafers, and Vaughn’s boots.

Thankfully, Wallace Meyer and his wife weren’t in sight. Meyer knew the score, that a detainee wasn’t allowed visitors—even police chief fathers. Still, it didn’t mean Meyer wouldn’t try to push the limits. All he needed was a local news crew to film Vaughn turning him away from visiting his own son and suddenly Vaughn would look like asshole number one to his voting constituency.

After greeting Tsai, Vaughn nodded to Binderman. “Lunch break. See you in an hour or so. Heavy on the or so. The diner across the street makes an excellent pot pie, but they’re slow about it.”

“Thank you, sir. That would hit the spot today.”

“Come on in, Tsai,” Vaughn said, opening the hospital suite door. He propped it open with his backside and tapped the papers he held. “Let’s get this over with. I’m serving Junior his arrest warrant today.”

Wallace Meyer Jr.’s lanky body stretched to the end of his hospital bed, though the lack of meat on his bones left plenty of room for Tsai to sit on the bed at his side. His eyelids were half closed and obscured behind the mass of shaggy brown hair that fell over his face. Tubes and wires were suspended between his body, the bed, and an IV pole on which three bags hung. His arms and legs were restrained to the bed rails with soft cuffs.

His earlobes had huge floppy holes in them from the rings Junior had stretched them out with. All his jewelry was now sitting in a bag at Vaughn’s station house, including the blunt metal dowel he wore through his nose like a bull and another through his left eyebrow. Reminded him of Gwen, who damn near gave their mom a heart attack during her pierced tongue and pink hair phase several years ago. He’d seen enough of that kind of costume on the job to realize that sort of body art was all about kids advertising their insecurities, wanting people to see the freak and ignore the vulnerability underneath.

Didn’t explain what Junior had to be insecure about. His whole life, everything he wanted had been handed to him on a silver platter. Then again, Gwen had led a pretty vanilla life, but that didn’t stop her from having problems as deep as an oil well—and just as black.

Vaughn walked around to the opposite side of the bed from Tsai, poking the bottom of Junior’s foot through the blanket with his pen as he moved. “How’s it going, Junior?”

Junior turned his head away from Vaughn and closed his eyes.

He whacked Junior’s stomach with the stack of papers. “Hello? Anybody home?”

A second whack and Junior’s eyes cracked open. “What?”

Vaughn leaned in. “That’s more like it. Having fun yet, Junior?”

“Screw you.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. You think of anything else you want to share with me about the shooting on Monday? Like where you got the guns?”

“Don’t answer that,” Tsai said.

Vaughn didn’t miss a beat. “See, we looked up the firearms registered to you. Two hunting rifles. No AR-15s.”

Junior’s eyes popped open. His lips curled into a sneer. “You can’t register an AR-15. They’re illegal, dumbass.”

“I told you to keep your mouth shut,” Tsai hissed.

“Who brought the guns to the party?” Vaughn tried again. “All I want is a name to give to the prosecutor. Maybe help your case out, show how cooperative you are. So who was it? Henigin? Baltierra? De Luca?”

Junior raised his right hand as far as it would go given the cuff and flipped Vaughn the bird.

“Fair enough,” Vaughn said. “New question. Why were you in the Parillas Valley?”

“That’s not a new question. You asked me that a million times already.”

“I’m still waiting for an answer.”

Junior shook his head. His stretched-out earlobes wiggled like worms.

Vaughn flipped through the case file until he found the picture of the graffitied boulder and dropped it on Junior’s chest. “We warned you bitch. Who was the message for?”

Junior turned his chin up, eyes to the ceiling. “You don’t even know I was the one who sprayed that.”

Vaughn shot Tsai an exasperated look. “Your client isn’t getting it.” He reached into the case file and grabbed the stack of photographs from Rachel’s camera, shaking it in the air over Junior’s stomach. “We have pictures of you shaking the aerosol paint can, then pictures of you painting every letter of every word on the boulder. There are so many pictures of you in action, I could flip through the stack and animate it for you, like a movie.”

A frown of irritation settled on Tsai’s face. “Junior has said from the beginning that he has no knowledge of why he was taken to the valley. He was coerced into acting as he did, fearing for his life.”

Yeah, right.

“Coerced by whom? If Junior here is so innocent, then why can’t he share with me who did all this coercing he’s swearing by?” He tucked the pictures away and slapped the papers on the counter behind him, then turned to Junior’s bed. “Who are you afraid of?”

“I ain’t afraid of nobody.”

Vaughn mashed his lips together, watching Junior’s eyes. Looking for the telltale signs he was lying, but Junior’s face was a mask of defensiveness and immaturity. Nothing for Vaughn to work with. “Your pal Jimmy thinks someone wants to kill him. He was all twitchy today when we transferred him to the jailhouse. Any idea who’s got him so rattled? Someone who’s bold enough to pop de Luca in front of a bunch of cops. Know anyone like that?”

“How the hell would I know what Jimmy’s scared about? I barely know the guy.”

“Is that so? ’Cause I’m wondering if whoever he was spooked about could also be after you. What do you think of that theory?”

“I think you can suck my dick,” Junior said.

Vaughn shifted his gaze to Tsai. “This case isn’t looking so hot for your acquittal record, Tsai. If your client can’t keep his vocabulary and hand gestures respectable, I don’t see how he’s going to win over a jury.”

“Worry about your own job, Cooper, and I’ll worry about mine.”

“Sure, sure. The problem is, my gut’s telling me that Junior is withholding critical information on two dangerous fugitives. When that information comes out, which it will, do you honestly think I won’t add it to the list of charges against him? You’d best be advising him to answer my questions.”

“We’re done here,” Tsai said, rising. “Serve the warrant.”

Vaughn bit back his simmering frustration. “See now? It sounds like you’re starting to worry about my job, and what did you just tell me?”