Chapter 10 Tricky Ride

T he vibrations stopped, and stillness settled over the safe room. It was punctuated by snuffling whimpers from Bo, who wasn’t near ready to forgive the noisy, jarring interruptions to his nap.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Jillian crooned in a shaky, singsong voice. She hoped she wasn’t lying to him.

She slid weakly to her knees on the floor.

Eloise slid down beside her. They remained huddled together on the floor for several minutes, panting out breathless assurances to little Bo.

“Whatever is going on out there,” Jillian quavered, “you got us to safety just in time, Eloise.”

“The worst of it appears to be over,” her mother-in-law agreed hoarsely.

Though the door was sealed tight, the smell of smoke seeped into the room.

Eloise straightened and sniffed the air. Then she scrambled to her feet and moved to stand beneath the only air vent in the room. It was on the upper east wall. The other side of it was an exterior wall cloaking the ductwork with a layer of concrete and stone.

Jillian’s mind raced over the possibilities. The only way she could fathom smoke getting into the ductwork was if…

Horror tightened her throat as she met Eloise’s gaze. “The house must be on fire.”

Her mother-in-law didn’t answer. She lurched into motion, shoving one of the leather recliners up to the wall. Grabbing the package of wet wipes, she stood on the recliner and started stuffing the damp wipes into the open lines of the vent shaft.

Despite how fast she worked, smoke swirled into the room around her fingers. “Get low and pull a blanket over you and Bo,” she barked.

Two Lonestar Security guards sped Dave and Gil’s way on four-wheelers. They reached them and skidded to a stop in front of them in a cloud of dirt and gravel. Jordan ignored the men on ATVs and continued his pursuit of his horse.

“You guys all right?” The first rider pulled his black helmet off, revealing the scowling features of Army Ranger Gage Hefner. Though he was retired from the military, he continued to wear his brown hair in the traditional “high and tight” cut so many soldiers favored —shaved on the sides and short on top. Dave had only spoken to him a few times so far. The fact that they were both new hires at Lonestar, though, had given them an instant sense of camaraderie. Gage was still finishing up on the new employee training and orientation that Dave was just getting started on. Though Gage was fifteen years younger, Dave had unashamedly gone to him with a few questions about what was required from new employees.

The second rider wasn’t one Dave recognized when he tugged off his helmet. Not a surprise. Living in a bunker below the headquarters building hadn’t exactly been conducive to getting out and socializing with the rest of the staff.

“We’ve been better. What about you guys?” Gil’s Stetson was missing. Like Dave, his face was drenched in sweat, soot, and an occasional burn blister. His shirt and jeans were singed in several places.

“We’re good. We weren’t anywhere near the explosion when it went off. Already called the fire department,” Gage informed them grimly. “It’s all about containment at this point. There’s nothing left to save back there.” He shook his head at the rubble behind Dave and Gil.

Dave swung around to survey the damage. The only thing left standing was the cabin’s stone fireplace. The rest of the home was a pile of jagged, flaming timber. Rivulets of fire ran between the cabin and barn, which was also up in flames. A loud creaking sound met their ears as the barn roof gave out and collapsed in on itself.

Ever the sheriff, Gil quickly took charge of their huddle. “I think we should split up. Two of us should stick around to help Jordan flag down his horse. Two of us should head back to Dave’s house and help out there.”

Dave pulled off his Stetson to swipe his shirtsleeve over his face. “As much as I hate to say this, I think I should hang back with my client.” His father was dead, his mother was on the run, and the entire court case might very well be resting on his shoulders now. Dave couldn’t abandon him, not when they were so close to getting the answers he’d been seeking .

And missing by a long shot.

Dave glanced toward Jordan’s disappearing shoulders in the distance, hating just how badly he’d let his old friend down.

“Here.” Gage tossed him his helmet. “Take my wheels.”

“I’ve got Dave’s back.” Gil reached for the other guy’s helmet. “You two head on to the lake and give them a hand there. I suspect that’s where the party is heading.” He dug out the keys to his Rezvani Tank and tossed them to Gage.

“Until they figure out Jordan is still alive.” Dave rotated his aching shoulders before mashing on the helmet and climbing on the four-wheeler. They needed to catch up with Jordan and get him and his horse to a new secure location as soon as possible.

Gage slapped a hand against the leather saddlebag bolted behind the seat of the ATV Gil was slinging his leg over. “Plenty of water and emergency supplies on both four-wheelers.” He handed over his patrol walkie talkie to Gil. “You guys hang on to one of these. We’ll keep the other one with us.”

Gil strapped it on. “We’ll keep you posted about where we end up.” He didn’t say what he had in mind, but he’d grown up hunting in these woods. Dave suspected he knew the property like the back of his hand. If there was a nook or a cranny big enough for three men and a horse to hunker down in, he’d know where it was.

I hope.

Dave’s gut was telling him that the dangers they’d been facing were far from over. He slapped his face guard in place, nodding goodbye to Gage and his companion.

Gage gave them a two-fingered salute.

Dave and Gil took off across the pasture, gunning their motors and leaning into the wind as they pursued Jordan and Western Storm. They caught up to Jordan first.

Dave slowed his speed and idled along beside him long enough for Jordan to hop on the back of his four-wheeler. Then they took off again. He and Gil used hand signals as they drew nearer to the frightened stallion.

Gil fanned a wide right, indicating he intended to circle back in and head the horse away from the looming foothills.

Jordan fisted one hand in the back of Dave’s shirt, pointing around Dave’s shoulder with the other hand. “Get me closer to Western Storm,” he shouted. His hand tightened on Dave’s shirt and his other hand came down on Dave’s shoulder as he rose into a crouch with his knees straddling Dave’s ribcage.

Good grief! It looked and sounded like Jordan was going to attempt to leap off the back of the four-wheeler onto his horse in mid gallop. Was such a thing even possible? Outside of the circus, that is?

As if sensing his doubts, Jordan rocked closer to his ear, shouting, “Trust me for once!”

Alright, my friend. You win. Clenching his jaw, Dave gunned his motor again and gradually gained on the horse’s right flank. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gil closing in.

Dave frenziedly waved him off. Change of plans, man. He could only hope that Gil interpreted the signal in time. Jordan’s life and limbs might depend on it.

“Left side,” Jordan bellowed.

Dave veered left, losing sight of Gil altogether as he continued closing in. The horse’s hooves kicked up clods of dirt and small pebbles. One of them pinged off of Dave’s face guard, making him jerk the wheel a little .

“Hold it steady,” Jordan hollered, gripping his shoulder with fingers that felt like bands of steel.

Holding steady, bro. The rest is up to you. Dave drew alongside the horse, easing up a tad on the gas to match the horse’s pace.

The four-wheeler jostled left as Jordan made his jump. Dave instantly reduced his speed, giving them as much room as possible. Then he skidded to a halt, watching in prayerful agony as Jordan hooked his right leg over the back of the horse and his left leg underneath the horse’s belly, plunging both hands into his mane. He rode sideways for a few breathless seconds before successfully wrenching his wiry frame upright on the back of the stallion.

It was one of the most incredible feats of horsemanship Dave had ever witnessed. The only thing he’d ever seen like it was in the trick riding ring at the rodeo.

Within seconds, Jordan had slowed Western Storm to a trot. Shortly afterward, he coaxed him down to a walk. Circling him around, he rode back in Dave’s direction. Sweat was pouring down his face, but he waved his fist in a sign of victory.

Dave turned off the four-wheeler’s motor so as not to startle the horse any more than necessary. Gil, who was heading their way, slowed his speed and revved it way down, probably for the same reason.

“It’s okay,” Jordan called joyfully to Dave. “He’s deaf.”

Well, what do you think of that? Dave shook his head in amazement. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jordan shrugged as he brought the heaving horse to a halt in front of Dave. “Didn’t think it would matter to you.”

His words sent a wave of remorse through Dave. “Everything about you and Western Storm matters to me.”

Jordan glanced away from him. “Because of the case? ”

“Because you’re my friend, bro.” Dave walked up to him and held out a hand. “I can understand your confusion, since I haven’t been that great of a friend lately.”

Jordan snorted as he clasped Dave’s hand. “You’ve been more a friend to me than anyone else, past and present.”

Gil, who’d killed his motor, strode up to them. “If you need to shed some bro tears, D-Dave, your man card is safe with me.”

“And me.” Jordan held out a fist to Gil, chuckling. “Thanks. Both of you.”

Gil fist bumped him. “That maneuver was all you and D-Dave. And this incredible fella.” He ran a hand down Western Storm’s nose. Then he produced a water bottle and twisted off the lid. Nudging the horse’s head higher, he poured it into his mouth.

Western Storm greedily lapped it up.

A thought struck Dave, making him yank his gaze back to Jordan. “You laughed,” he accused.

“I do that sometimes.” Jordan’s voice was dry.

Dave shook his head in puzzlement. “Nah, something’s different about you.” Way different.

Jordan was no longer avoiding his gaze or rocking back and forth while speaking to him. They were having a relatively normal exchange.

“It’s because I have Asperger’s Disease.” At Dave’s confused look, he explained. “It’s a very mild form of autism. A lot of us manage to lead fairly normal lives with it.”

Dave gave a snort of disbelief as the meaning of his friend’s words sank in. “You mean all that Forrest Gump stuff was…” He raised and lowered his hands helplessly. “Nothing more than an act?”

“Pretty much.” Jordan grimaced. “It was my dad’s idea. After we discovered how badly they were abusing the livestock at Horseshoe Valley Ranch, he thought it might protect me if everyone assumed I was disabled. Well,” he amended wryly, “more severely disabled than I actually am. Which they did.” His voice grew sad. “They blamed Dad for disrupting the gambling operation, not me. That’s why they…” He stopped and swallowed hard.

Dave averted his gaze while Jordan’s jaw worked with emotion. “I’m really sorry about the loss of your father.”

Jordan drew a heavy breath. “I’m the one who called all the reputable attorneys around Dallas to make it hard for my mom to use anyone local. Then I suggested getting in touch with you. Not directly, of course. I pretended to ramble about my high school days and made sure I mentioned my cool friend on the football team.” He smirked. “Who’d become a big honking lawyer.”

“Big honking.” Gil guffawed. “I’ll be sure to use that.”

Dave pretended to glare at Jordan. “Easy there, cowboy. Gil doesn’t need any new material to use against me.” He circled back to Jordan’s latest revelation about his mother. “Why exactly did you want your mother to hire me as your family’s attorney?”

“Because she thinks Heart Lakers are a bunch of country bumpkins.” Jordan shook his head in amusement. “She figured she could play on the sympathies of a doofus football player.” He broke off apologetically. “Her words, not mine.”

“Big honking doofus,” Gil corrected beneath his breath with a splutter of mirth.

Dave punched him in the shoulder to shut him up.

Jordan turned beet red with embarrassment. “She, er, just needed your help to get the owners of Horseshoe Valley Ranch behind bars, so she could take charge of the operation.”

Dave’s jaw dropped. “Of the gambling operation?” Of course! It all made sense now. He dropped his hands on top of his Stetson, feeling every inch the big honking doofus that Jan Jacobson considered him to be.

He spun in a circle, groaning in self-recrimination. “Good gravy, Jordan! I take it your mother was right about your father’s suicide not being a suicide?”

“Yep. He had some help.” Jordan cleared his throat. “From either her or one of her associates. So did I, since I sure didn’t try to kill myself. I didn’t take a single blasted pill from those bottles you found next to me. Whatever nearly took me from this world must’ve been dissolved in the glass of tea I drank before passing out. Can’t prove a thing, since all the evidence was gone by the time I got back home. Only thing I know for sure is you saved my life that day. When you found me on the floor, my mother had no choice but to call an ambulance and play the part of the pitiful victim who’d almost lost another family member. It took me a while to connect the dots.” He shook his head. “For the longest time, the medications she was pouring down my throat kept the details fuzzy.”

One of Dave’s theories was still nagging at him. “Please tell me I was right about one thing, at least.” He waved at Jordan. “About you being the Prophet.”

“One of many,” his friend admitted dryly.

“Yeah, they’re popping up all over the place like Whack-a-Mole. You were the only one out there doing anything intelligent with your warnings, though.” It was clear now to Dave that Jan Jacobson had sent her two threats to herself, which was why she was still alive. “The laptop was yours, too. ”

“It was actually my dad’s. I pretended to become addicted to video games, so my mom would let me keep it.”

“Along with all the incriminating evidence it contained against Horseshoe Valley Ranch.” Yep, Jordan was one smart cookie. Dave couldn’t wait to hear him on the witness stand.

The roar of a vehicle sounded in the distance.

“Since no one has contacted us, that can’t be ours.” Gil sprinted back to his four-wheeler and leaped aboard. “Follow me!”

He led them into the foothills along a path that quickly grew narrower. Gil rode in front, Jordan followed him on Western Storm, and Dave brought up the rear on his four-wheeler. The path wound sharply around and upward, leading them to a sheltered overlook. The burning cabin and barn looked like small smoking specks on the far side of the pasture below them.

Gil motioned for Dave to kill his motor and get down into the prone position. He motioned for Jordan to do the same.

Not only did Jordan dismount, he got Western Storm to lie down beside him.

Gil watched them in amazement. “You truly are a horse whisperer.”

“Not really.” Jordan shot him a crooked smile. “He’s deaf, remember?”

“And a comedian.” Dave was never going to stop being impressed with the guy. “With acting skills that rival some of the best Hollywood stars out there.”

“What he said.” Gil tossed Jordan a second water bottle.

Jordan immediately popped it open and tipped it up for his horse.

“That was supposed to be for you, man.” Gil drank half of the last remaining bottle from his saddlebag and offered Jordan the rest of it.

“Keep it, Gil. According to Gage, I’ve got a few bottles on my ride.” Dave pulled two bottles of water out of his own saddlebag and shared one of them with Jordan.

While the three men guzzled water, a lone red Jeep sped across the field in their direction.

Jordan grimly watched it approach. “That’ll be my mom.”

Gil drew back from him, scowling. “How did she find you?” His hand crept toward his weapon.

“Good question.” Jordan sent Dave a beseeching look. “I don’t have a cell phone.”

Dave’s mind raced. “Do you have anything else on you? A watch, hearing aid, pace maker, jewelry….?”

Jordan shook his head. Then he sighed and reached for his boots.

Gil was about to draw his weapon, but Dave shook his head. “Let him explain.” He’d made the mistake of doubting Jordan one too many times already.

“She had ‘em resoled recently.” Jordan tugged his boots off and turned them over, examining them one at a time. “Here.” He flicked a finger against one of the square heels. “My guess is she embedded some sort of tracking device in ‘em. Either that, or she had one embedded in me,” he sighed.

“Tagged like a stinking steer,” Dave growled, producing a pocket knife. He handed it to Jordan and let him do the honors.

In a matter of seconds, Jordan had carved out the center of both heels. A tracking device dropped out of the second heel and clattered to the rocky ledge.

“Uh, fellas?” Gil rolled back into the prone position, holding his gun out in front of him. “We can examine the particulars later. Right now, we’ve got company.”

The red Jeep ground to a halt at the base of the ridge. The door on the driver’s side flew open, and Jan Jacobson hopped out. She shaded a hand over her eyes to gaze upward. “I know you’re up there, Jordan. Don’t make me come after you.”

“She knows we’re here,” Jordan groaned in a whisper. “Whadaya want me to do?”

Dave signaled to Gil that they needed to capture what was being said. They took turns setting their phones to record live video, sliding the phones closer to the edge of the cliff and wedging them in the dirt to face downward.

Then Dave pointed Jordan toward the path they’d taken to reach the overlook. “Try to talk her into meeting you halfway or something. We’ve got your back. I promise.”

Nodding nervously, Jordan stumbled to his knees and crouched over the edge of the cliff. He swung his head back and forth, calling out to his mother in a monotone. “Western Storm is hurt bad. I won’t leave him.”

Well, I’ll be! Dave watched in amazement as Jordan snapped effortlessly back into Forrest Gump mode.

Jan Jacobson gave a high-pitched laugh. “So, he didn’t die in the fire, eh?”

“He’s hurt bad,” Jordan repeated, rolling his eyes heavenward and rocking harder. He curled his hands like claws against his chest. “Horses never forget.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” his mother exploded. “You’re gonna make me come up there, aren’t you?”

“Horses never forget.” Jordan abruptly took a seat on his backside. His movements sent a trickle of pebbles over the edge of the cliff. They rained down on his mother, forcing her to dance out of the way .

She snarled something that Dave couldn’t make out. Then she stomped over to the winding path leading up to the overlook. “No offense, but you were supposed to be with your daddy already, sweetie.”

No offense, sweetie? Dave ground his teeth in rage as he listened to the woman’s grisly monologue.

“If our doofus lawyer hadn’t insisted on interviewing you the day he arrived in town, you’d have just gone to sleep. Nighty night,” she crooned as she hiked up the path. “Not that he was supposed to make it in one piece to Dallas.” She made a sound of disgust. “If you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself. Lesson learned.” Her breathing grew rough as she climbed higher.

“Western Storm is hurt bad,” Jordan reminded when she lapsed into panting silence. “Too bad to race.” He curled his hands in agitation into his shirt, gripping two fistfuls of fabric. “Horses never forget.”

“Why do you always say that?” she shouted shrilly up to him. “Who cares what horses think or don’t think?”

“I do.” He scrambled to his feet and tottered a few steps in her direction, swaying dizzily on his feet.

“That’s it,” she crooned. “Be a good son and come to your mama.” She paused and waited, doubled over and heaving, while he slowly descended the path in her direction.

The way he averted his head, keeping an eye on Dave, told him that Jordan was carefully gauging the distance between his mother and their hiding place.

“We had a good run together, didn’t we?” His mother straightened, making a sound that was partly a laugh and partly a sob. “You racing horses and keeping your father happy, while I made bigger plans for our family. I knew you wouldn’t be able to race horses forever. You were getting too old, too sick, and too crazy. We would’ve lost everything if I hadn’t placed that first bet.” Tears trickled down her lined cheeks as she unburdened herself to the son she was plotting on taking out of the world once and for all. “We almost did lose everything after your dad found out about my gambling. He threatened to go to the police if I didn’t call them myself and confess what I’d done to the bridles to fix the races. I told him I did what I had to do to make sure my bets stayed on the winning horses, but it only made him madder. I’m also the one who bribed those dumb jockeys to throw their races in your favor. I made it look like your dad did it, of course, since he was about to die, anyway. I needed the police investigating everyone but me.” She stretched her arms out to Jordan. “You helped me accomplish that more than you’ll ever know, you crazy little man. All your psychic number crunching helped me choose the horses with the best odds of winning and losing before I figured out how to guarantee the outcomes on my own.”

He stumbled and fell to his hands and knees. “Horses never forget.”

“Not that again.” She dropped her arms with a long-suffering groan and continued her climb.

As she closed in on him, Dave and Gil low-crawled closer, keeping their guns trained on her. She never looked their way. Reaching her son, she flung her arms around him and gave him a tight hug.

“Come here, you crazy boy.” As she tugged him closer to the edge of the cliff, her deadly intentions became obvious to Dave. The monstrous woman was going to throw her own child to his death.

Dave and Gil hovered their fingers over their triggers, preparing to do whatever was necessary to intervene.

Then Jordan came to life. He twisted out of his mother’s embrace, throwing her off balance. She tumbled backward and might’ve fallen over the edge of the cliff if her son hadn’t caught her.

He pressed her to the ground and rolled her to her belly in the dirt and gravel.

She gave another high-pitched laugh. “What are you doing, you crazy kid?”

“No, Mom. I’m not crazy.” He pressed a knee to the middle of her back, holding her captive as Dave and Gil rose from their hiding places and converged on them. Bending closer to speak directly in her ear, he added sadly. “You are.”