Linda O. Johnston - Colton 911 - Caught In The Crossfire

After a short while, Melody asked Cal to begin trotting as she directed him to get in front of Witchy. Then she urged him even further, and Cal began galloping around the corral, his mane blowing as he moved.

Melody glanced behind her. Yes, Witchy and Casey were keeping up. Not surprising, but it confirmed what she was thinking: it was time for them to head off to that critical pasture.

They had almost returned to the site of the mutilated fence. It had taken much less time today, thanks to the horses and their speedier gaits.

Casey was happy to be on horseback. He liked Witchy and felt he was doing an okay job playing cowboy, as he rode this calm, obedient and enjoyable steed along the uneven, mostly grassy terrain.

Even more, he was enjoying watching his companion on this ride, Melody, on her somewhat more energetic equine, Cal.

She seemed more at home here, somehow, intensely watching their surroundings and handling her reins, gently guiding her mount in the direction she wanted. She wore a cap now, a blue denim one that matched her shirt, a lighter color than her jeans. He, too, wore a cap, with his sheriff’s department logo on it—the only current indication of his status as a deputy. But he needed the shading of his face from the sun, which was bound to become even more intense as the day grew later.

It was still early in the morning, around nine, and the air was clear and a bit cool for Arizona, not surprising in November. An airplane flew high overhead in the blue sky, and Casey wondered for a moment which airport it had come from and where it was going. It appeared to be flying north, so maybe it had just taken off from Tucson International.

Reflexively, as he’d done often during this ride, he glanced behind himself at one of the two very large, but not particularly heavy, saddlebags Melody and he had filled. The other was attached to her saddle, similarly behind her. With her instruction, they’d fastened them on their mounts before leaving the stable. His contained a small tent in case they had to sleep outside for a night or two, which wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility. Each of them also contained lightweight, closely folded sleeping bags.

The most bulky and necessary items they’d included were water bottles, although Melody had assured him that she knew where some creeks—perhaps including the one the town of Cactus Creek had been named for—were located. They could utilize these creeks for water, which they could purify with her portable water filter. That way, they should be able to keep their own water bottles filled, as well as making sure the horses had drinkable water.

And possibly the most important thing? His duty belt was hidden inside that saddlebag. It contained items he hoped he wouldn’t need, but would be crucial if he did, including his gun. He’d also stuck his wallet and badge inside in case he needed money or to identify himself, though he kept his phone in his pocket since he figured he might need it quicker than the rest.

He’d fortunately had time to take that charm Melody had found to the sheriff’s department to examine it and determine its likely source, as well as check it for fingerprints. They’d be passing the area where she found it soon, which he thought about now. If it turned out that the charm belonged to one of the perpetrators, it might be useful as evidence, but that remained to be determined.

And something about the charm was still tugging at his mind, though he remained unsure why.

“How are you doing?” Melody’s voice came from beside him. She looked great on that horse, sitting tall, the reins held in her right hand, her jeans-clad legs hugging Cal’s sides and her black boots in the stirrups. Her ponytail waved beneath her cap in the breeze as they moved forward.

Of course, Casey recognized that she looked great when not on horseback, too.

And despite knowing full well and even vocalizing that they were both there on business and would remain professional, he knew he’d have to be careful if they spent nights out here together to keep it that way.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Wish I’d learned to ride a horse this way before.”

“So you’re having fun.” Her words were a statement, and her smile was one of the biggest Casey had ever seen.

One of the prettiest, too.

Okay , he told himself sternly. You like this woman. You like her appearance—and more. But keep it all to yourself.

“Yeah,” he responded. “Definitely fun.”

“So here we are,” Melody said as they arrived at the fence. “Our starting point, sort of. We’ll head in the direction those hoofprints lead us.”

“Let’s check the GPS app.”

Just before they’d headed out to the pasture, she had helped Casey download the GPS app, then shown him what the GPS portion of the tags attached to the cattle had looked like on her phone’s map—a group of small, overlaid dots in one location. But without streets or even an indication as to what part of the open land the dots were located in, other than a rough idea of the terrain if the right part of the app was on, it didn’t seem to Casey as if the GPS would be of much help except maybe to provide a general direction. But as with a lot around here, Melody was much more experienced and skilled in such things than he. He’d looked on his own phone and found the map, too.

“Good idea,” she responded. “Let’s do it before we head any further.”

She’d apparently put her phone in her pocket, too, and pulled it out now. As she did, something else fell from her pocket—her wallet.

“Damn.” She started to dismount.

“Here, let me,” Casey said. “I’ll pick it up while you check the GPS.”

“Thanks.” She nodded at him. “That’ll save us a small bit of time. I assume you’re skilled enough now to get on and off Witchy without my guidance.”

“I assume so, too.” He pulled his right foot from the stirrup, then lifted his right leg to move it around to the same side of the horse as his left one. Mounting and dismounting hadn’t been that hard to start with, but he did feel as if the little bit of practice he’d been getting made him somewhat of a pro, like Melody.

Her wallet was in some grass just off to Cal’s right side, and Melody’s horse stomped a little as if he was uneasy to have Casey walking around. “It’s okay.” Casey stroked the brown quarter horse’s side in front of Melody’s leg, enjoying the feel of the soft coat. Cal seemed to quiet down immediately, and Casey bent to pick up the beige leather case.

As he did so, he noticed that the strap that normally held the two sides together was unsnapped, and before he could get it back together he saw Melody’s driver’s license inside. He barely glanced at it at first, but did a double take when he saw that it was a Texas license—the address wasn’t in Cactus Creek, it was in Dallas. Understandable. Though she’d been here for six months, she must not have gotten herself a new one yet since moving here for this job.

But the more startling thing was…well, did this belong to this Melody’? The picture was hers, and so was the first name, but the last name wasn’t Hayworth, it was Ellison. Was she married? Using an alias for some reason? What was going on?

And how was he going to ask her?

He wouldn’t. Not now. Whoever she was, and whatever her name, she clearly worked for OverHerd Ranch. The name situation was personal, since he’d no reason to suspect her of any crime—

None of his business, despite his curiosity.

“Here we are,” he said brightly, holding out the now-fastened wallet to her.

“Thanks,” she said. “And better get back up on Witchy. We’re going to have a long day still, out here following the missing herd.”