Picnic in Someday Valley (Honey Creek #2)(46)

He hesitated, then asked, “Are you all right? Are you sure he didn’t see you? Do you want me to come home?”

Hell! He almost said it aloud. Why did he call Honey Creek home? He’d never lived there. It wasn’t his town. He lived in Austin.

“I’m sure he didn’t see me. He was out the door by the time I got to Marcie. I’m worried. I want to do something to help and no, you don’t have to come home. I want to find a way to help Marcie. I’m worried about them. Brand is a loner, a rancher whose family has lived in the valley as long as mine has. I don’t know him well, but I’ve never heard any bad gossip about him.”

“Tell me the facts, PJ.”

The line was silent for a moment, then she started. “This guy said he’d kill Brand. Make him bleed out slow, and then he’d torture Marcie with knife cuts where no one would see while he raped her. He said he’d leave her weak from loss of blood, but he’d let her live so he could come back for seconds.” Piper took a long breath. “If you could have seen her eyes, Colby, you’d know she was frightened. She believed what the creep said.”

“Why Marcie? Why Brand?”

“She told me a few nights ago this guy and a few of his buddies decided to have a little fun with her. But she wouldn’t unlock her door. Brand Rodgers came by and broke up their plans.”

Colby wanted to hold Piper right now. Her voice was shaking and he knew her whole body was too. She’d used nice words but he knew exactly what the men had planned.

Colby keyed in Brandon Rodgers on his office computer. Simple law-abiding citizen. Fourth generation on the same land. No arrest record, not even a parking ticket.

The ranger flipped photos. Nowadays people had pictures on the internet that they didn’t even know were there.

He paused at one, staring.

He recognized Brand Rodgers’s face. He’d seen him somewhere before. Colby tried to pull the memory out. Three years ago. He’d been a trooper then, answering a call for backup at the end of a long shift. Two rival drug gangs were fighting it out in a warehouse on the east side of Austin. Colby was just told to secure one back entrance. As he waited by a back gate a few hundred yards from the now quiet building, one lone man walked out of the loading dock entrance. Tall, lean, with wide shoulders.

Colby watched the guy. He came right toward Colby as if he was out for a stroll. As he moved, he tossed off his vest and his shirt. Colby clicked on his headlights, pulled his service weapon, and stood ready behind his open car door.

The man looked as solid as if he’d been chiseled.

When the lights flashed on the stranger’s bare chest, the man raised his arms, indicating he was not armed. As he drew nearer, one fact surprised Colby. The stranger showed no fear.

“Stop right where you are,” Colby ordered.

“Will do,” the man answered as he raised his hands higher. “I’m not armed, Trooper. I don’t plan to cause you any trouble.”

From nowhere a black Lincoln pulled up, sending dirt flying. Four men in suits hurried out. One flashed a badge and told Colby to stand down. Another walked slowly to the stranger and handed him a black windbreaker. The stranger lowered his hands, gave a quick salute to Colby, and disappeared into the back of the black car.

As three of the suits climbed back into the car, the fourth walked toward Colby. The Lincoln and the stranger disappeared into the night.

The one left behind walked over to Colby. “Any chance you could give me a ride, Trooper?”

“What just happened?” Colby holstered his weapon.

The suit moved toward the passenger door. “You just saw a legend. A ghost. On the way back I’ll explain why you didn’t see anything at all, if anyone asks.”

Colby had looked for the stranger after that night. Tall, built solid, like the guy was all muscle, but he carried his body light. A plain face not many would remember. Someone, if you passed on the street, you wouldn’t notice.

Now Colby had a name to go with the stranger’s face. The legend. A ghost, and he lived in the same valley as Piper. She’d given him a name. Brandon Rodgers. A rancher who’d never had a parking ticket but somehow worked for the government. A lone ranger, Colby thought.

Piper’s voice came through the line a bit panicky. “Colby, you still there?”

Into the phone he said almost calmly, “Keep a close eye on Marcie and don’t worry about Brandon Rodgers. Trust me, he can take care of himself.”

“But—”

“No buts. If this creep visits Brand, he’ll be the one to die.” Colby had to think fast. “He’s a cowboy, PJ. If he can throw a wild, half-grown calf, surely he can handle a skinny drunk guy who goes around frightening women.”

“Thanks, Colby. You’ve made me feel better.”

Colby gripped the phone hard. “I’m sorry you had this happen, but I’m glad you called me. I was going to call you tonight. I don’t know what happened between us last weekend. Maybe worrying about the storm and no sleep had something to do with it, but whether we’re over or you want to step away for a while, I need to say something. I’m sorry.”

The line was silent and he’d have to abide by whatever she said.

“Come home,” she whispered. “We’ll talk.”

“I’ll be there by dark, Friday.”