B.J. Daniels - Cowboy Accomplice

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Buck said. “Someone took the distributor cap.”

Was it possible someone had taken the part as a joke? This sort of thing was definitely not funny. Any fool knew there could be an emergency that would prevent one of them from riding out of here on horseback and they would need the truck to get out.

J.T. turned slowly to look at Buck. “You don’t know anything about this?”

Buck looked shocked by the question. “Why would I do something this stupid?”

To help that woman in my line shack. But he knew Buck was right. He wouldn’t do anything this dangerous. Not even for a beautiful woman.

“I was thinking about the last time something like this happened,” Buck said quietly, glancing toward the campfire. “The truck had been disabled that time too, right?” Buck hadn’t been on that roundup nine years ago. But like everyone else in four states, he’d heard about it.

“The tires were slashed,” J.T. said. The method used was different, but the end result was the same. “And the hands involved are all dead.” One crazy, two greedy fools. All dying horrible deaths. And for what? He glanced toward the line shack. “This has to be that woman’s doing. She’s the only one who benefits from this—and the only one who doesn’t realize how dangerous it is.” She’d already proved how low she would stoop to get what she wanted. She’d done this to prevent him from sending her packing.

“You’re right,” Buck said, sounding relieved.

This had to be her doing. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the cow Bob Humphries had found. Also Reggie didn’t look like the kind of woman who would know a distributor cap from a hubcap, he thought, remembering how she hadn’t even been able to change her own tire. But in hindsight, that had probably just been a ruse to get him to stop and help her.

Had to be Reggie’s doing, J.T. told himself as he slammed the hood. He refused to think something else was going on here and that she wasn’t the only one who didn’t want any of them leaving here.

But as he headed for the cabin, he felt his skin crawl as he glanced past the camp into the darkness of the pines and imagined someone hiding out there watching them, waiting to pick them off one by one. Just like last time.

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