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Harper grinned, stepped into her stirrup, and swung her leg over Mattie’s back. “My people descended on my mother’s side from the Romany.”
“Ah, so Romany magic?”
“Something like that,” Harper grinned. “Hopefully, the majority of them will fall into line. I see Morgan’s taken up a spot on the other side of the herd. Here we go.” Harper walked off with the lead mare quietly following her. Harper glanced over her shoulder and breathed a sigh of relief. The other mares were following the lead mare.
The first group followed without an issue before Etta used the bolt cutter to snap the chain and open the gate to the second paddock. All four women held their breath, praying that the second group of mustangs would move as easily as the first. The mares broke into a trot, but only to catch up and fall in behind the first group. Once they were all moving along as a single herd, Harper nudged Mattie into a nice, easy trot, and the herd of mustangs followed along behind as though they’d been doing this for a long time.
“Un-fucking-believable,” said Morgan. “My next book is going to have a Romany heroine who’s a horse whisperer.”
This was going so much better than any of them had believed possible. They moved through the back gate and past Devon sitting on Tank. As they passed, Harper saw Morgan grin and give her a thumbs up. Devon dropped in beside her.
“Did you ever see the likes of that?”
“No. It was like that lead mare had known her all her life. Harper moved through that herd like she was one of them. And the lead mare just let her slip the halter on her, and off they walked.”
Harper kept them moving at a nice trot until they had crossed the highway, which was still deserted at this time of day. Once they were on open ground, Harper kissed to Mattie to cue her to lope, and the entire herd picked up their speed. Harper wanted them across the open ground as soon as possible. The gap in the foothills through which they’d move was just a couple of miles. Harper figured they’d lope until they got there, and then could slow back down.
Harper knew they’d have to push hard to reach a place where they could safely return the mustangs to the wild to stay ahead of Spence. She knew he was going to be majorly pissed at her. She was fairly certain Spence would be looking to exercise his right to a consensual non-consent discipline spanking as soon as he could get her back to the ranch. It was annoying that the thought of his spanking her and then the level of dominance he would display in the lovemaking that followed didn’t scare her in the least, but kickstarted her libido in a way she knew would make the long ride ahead uncomfortable.
Shaking off the distraction, Harper led her ragtag band of horse thieves and their prize to a place where they could be free.
CHAPTER15
From inside the old stockyard administrative offices, Spence found himself in a place he’d never thought he would—staring down the barrel at an old friend and trusted colleague. Pete had a high-powered rifle trained on him; Spence was covering him with his SIG. At this distance either gun would be lethal. He’d arrived just in the nick of time to prevent Pete from shooting all four women and the main gate guard.
“Why?” he asked, believing he knew the answer already but needing to hear it.
“Because I lost everything in my divorce and that bitch still wants more. I can’t even afford to hire a lawyer to keep her from getting what little I have left.”
“So, you killed Dulcie Simpson and were willing to kill four more women, the guard at the gate, and now me so you could cover up what you’ve been doing.”
“How the fuck did you figure it out? I was so careful.”
“I kept thinking they had to have local help—someone who knew the lay of the land and what was going on. You told them I was headed into town with Harper and Dulcie’s laptop. What you didn’t know was that we’d already made a clone.”
“Damn it, Spence, I didn’t have a choice. Dulcie knew I was dirty. She wouldn’t listen to reason. It wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“You’re going to try and argue ‘heat of the moment?’ You lured her out to the ‘Zone of Death.’ Then you made her get on her knees and put a bullet in the back of her head. That’s about as cold-blooded as they come.”
Spence started to take a step toward Pete.
“Don’t come any closer. I don’t want to have to kill you, too. Just walk away. I’ll be out of the country before nightfall.”
“I can’t do that—no, I won’t do that. Pete Jenkins, you are under arrest…”
“Don’t say that,” said Pete in a tone that bespoke of his destabilizing mental condition.
Spence leveled the SIG at Pete’s chest, his hand clammy and fingers wrapped around the grip, with his index finger resting on the trigger. His left hand came up to support his right hand. There was no way Spence would miss at this range and the SIG had a quicker release than a rifle.
“Don’t make me do this, Pete. Put the gun down and let me take you in.”
Pete’s face grew grim, the heightened color of fear fading into a pallid complexion and expression. He flexed his fingers around the rifle, unwavering and resolute. “I can’t,” he said, bringing the rifle up.
Suicide by cop—that’s what they called it. Unable to face the consequences of his actions or take his own life, he had maneuvered Spence into being the instrument of his death. Knowing that changed nothing. As he saw the rifle coming up to bear, Spence quieted his breathing and squeezed the trigger as he exhaled slowly. The gun spat its death sentence in a way that seemed to be far, far away. Both the sound and the scent of the gunfire seemed muffled.
Spence watched as Pete staggered backwards, dropped the rifle and for a moment looked grateful as the neat hole produced a red blossom that began to spread across his chest. Spence saw the light go out of Pete’s eyes as he crumpled to the floor.
Spence walked forward and checked for a pulse—there was none. Retrieving his cell phone from his pocket, he called Alice.
