Trent interrupted. “What’s happened, Chico?”
Chico sighed and took off his hat. He looked twice his age for a moment, glancing first at Katie, then back at Trent.
“On our way here, we found Hobbs. He had been dead about a couple of weeks, maybe. Someone cut him up very bad. One of our men heard screams the night he brought you in. It must have been Hobbs. Someone laid for him. We found a skinned tree. Whoever it was probably stretched a rope across the trail to trip the horse. No other sign, either, not so much as a bent twig. A bad thing, my friend.”
“Can’t figure it.” Looking at Cruz, he knew there was more. Finding Hobbs wouldn’t upset him this much.
“Alvarez.” Cruz pointed in the general direction of his men. “His daughter’s missing. She was picking berries yesterday.” He shrugged expressively. “We found the basket. That’s all.”
His stomach clenched and for a second he felt nauseous. “And no sign?”
“Nothing.” He caught Trent and Katie exchanging glances. “This means something to you?”
It was his turn to shrug. “Maybe. If she doesn’t turn up.”
Cruz looked toward his men. “She is only thirteen. Sweet, like the honey. Everyone loves her; she is like a daughter to us all. If you know something?” His eyes looked expectantly at them, a mixture of hope and dread. “Anything?”
Katie picked up the conversation. “We know of three young women who have been murdered.” She gestured toward Trent, “Going back to his wife a couple of years ago.”
Chico looked sadly at them. “Then all I can hope is that she is not found. If we never find her, there will always be hope.” His voice hardened. “The one who does this?”
He said honestly, “I don’t have a clue, not one. We just have to wait for the killer to make a mistake.”
“Raiders? Reeves?”
“I don’t think so. Starking holds them under tight control. Besides, I don’t think that is the kind of thing he would go for. Pagan Reeves? My impression is no. I mean, he could be the one, but I don’t see him wasting good womenfolk that way. He’d rather keep them around.”
“And if you catch this man?”
Trent spoke quietly, meeting the other man’s gaze. “Then I’ll be crossing that line we talked about.”
An unspoken message passed between the two men, thoughts of a conversation in another time and place. Katie watched, a puzzled expression on her face.
Reassured, Chico stood and gathered the reins of his horse. “You will go to the Springs soon?”
“Very soon.” His eyes were steady on Chico.
Chico’s face lit up in a dazzling smile. “This I would like to see.”
The group had remounted and was riding somberly away, when another rider burst into the clearing. After a short conversation, Cruz turned and rode back to them.
“We have found her.” His eyes were hard, and the muscles of his jaw kept clenching. “Please. Will you come?”
“Of course,” Trent and Katie replied together.
15
The clearing was small, less than twenty feet across, with vegetation choking the perimeter. The mass of cuts and mutilations in the center of the clearing barely resembled a human form.
The group stopped at the edge of the forest. “How did he find her?”
Cruz gave one of his eloquent shrugs. “Blind luck. He was coming to join us and came across this trail. He followed. The trail comes in here, and leaves on the other side of the clearing.”
He nodded, and then dismounted. “Have the men wait. Let’s look around.”
An hour later, they stood in the shade of a pin oak, watching the men wrap the girl into a blanket and secure her over a saddle.
Katie wasn’t quite patting her foot, but he could tell she wasn’t pleased with the lack of movement. “Shouldn’t we be following that trail?”
His reply was soft and he was lost in thought a moment. “The body looks to be a day old.”
She quickly caught on. “And the trail?”
“Today.” Cruz confirmed. “There is a boot track at the edge of the clearing. The edges are still well defined. There was a light rain last night that would have softened the imprint.”
“Thanks for the lesson.” Katie said dryly.
One of the riders was leading the horse back down the trail to the ranch, with two men riding guard. The rest looked expectantly at him.
He sighed, feeling this was the start of an avalanche with no end in sight and no stopping it. “So, let’s go see.”
He was on point, with Cruz and Katie close behind. The dense growth was too hard to ride through, and the men walked, leading their horses. The trail wasn’t hard to follow—a rock turned over here, scuff marks somewhere else.
Stopping a moment, he stood listening. The only sounds he could hear were from the men and animals behind him. As always, when trailing, he wished he were alone. “He’s pushing too hard.”
“I think we have the same thoughts, amigo.” Cruz had come to stand by him. Both gazed down at the barely discernible trail.
“You think someone came up to the body, then heard or saw someone, and went after them.”
Cruz nodded with a grim expression. “The trail ahead is made for ambush. We must be very careful.”
The trail in front of them blended into a path that wound around the side of a mountain, closed in by dense brush and trees on both sides. The path was barely visible, and used only by the animals of the forest. The trees overhead let in filtered sunlight, just enough to make shadows dark enough to hide in. As they rounded a pile of rock, brought up against some trees during a landslide long ago, he saw the body.
Holding his hand up, he instructed the party to stay back as he went on alone.
He knelt beside the man, amazed he was still alive, then propped him up against a tree trunk. When he moved him, he found the courier pouch the man had hidden beneath himself. He slung it around his own shoulder out of habit.
“Damn.”
The knife wound in the victims belly was amazingly bloodless, but already the smell was overwhelming.
Grabbing feebly at his arm, the courier tried to form words his lips couldn’t master. Finally, his voice breaking up and faint, he managed to speak. “Trent. I never— never saw him. Had on an army shirt—”
Lieutenant Saints gathered his strength with a visible effort. Looking at him with feverish eyes, he coughed up blood and his halting voice wheezed as his lungs fought for breath. “It’s not supposed to be this way. A man is supposed to die with tall sons by his side, and daughters to take care of him.”
“You’re a good man, Saints. That counts for something.” Trent’s voice was soft.
The man gave what passed for a laugh. “I’ve been trying to die… it just won’t happen. Can’t stand the pain. I’ll be crying like a baby in a few hours. We’re soldiers, Trent. We’ve both been in combat. I’m asking for release.” The last word pushed past his lips as the soldier grimaced in pain and coughed up more blood.
Chico and Katie had come up behind him.
“You know this one?” Chico asked.
She answered for him. “Isn’t he the colonel’s aide, from back at base camp?”
He nodded, not moving the hand that was gripping the soldier’s shoulder. “Fred Saints. He’s Colonel Bonham’s adjutant.”
“He’s still alive.” Cruz was looking at the lieutenant.
“I know.” He said softly.
“With that wound, it could take days for him to die. But he will surely die, my friend. He would suffer a great deal.” Cruz was now looking at him intently.
“I’ll take care of it.” He said in a soft voice. “It’s all I can do for him.”