Notorious by Carey Baldwin

Author:Carey Baldwin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2016-02-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Friday, October 18

4:00 P.M.

Fort Worth, Texas

UNTIL THEY ARRIVED at the stockyards, “Cowtown” seemed, to Caitlin, like any other major metropolitan city in this part of the country. But here, Fort Worth history came alive—­especially as far as the cows were concerned. Over the centuries, this historic district might have evolved into a tourist trap, but in addition to the drugstore cowboys strolling the sidewalks, tipping their Resistols and Stetsons to the ladies, real cattlemen were still in business. Over at the exchange building, livestock auctions and big Texas-­sized deals were taking place right alongside the fake shoot-­outs, bank robberies, and saloon shenanigans.

Every day, just about this time, authentic cowhands drove an impressive herd of cattle right down Main Street. Any other time, this would’ve been a treat, and even in spite of present circumstances, she couldn’t help feeling a rush of excitement when she noticed the crowd thickening up. The show was about to begin.

Beside her, Spense strode wordlessly. Though he wasn’t giving her the silent treatment . . . exactly. On the three-­hour drive here, they’d called a détente. Because of the recent attempt on their lives, the near-­fatal attack on Yolanda Langhorne, and the fact that Dutch remained a fugitive from both the police and the bad guy, agreeing to temporarily table their personal beefs seemed the only sensible thing to do.

Given the urgency of their situation, Spense’s razor-­sharp focus on the business at hand—­searching the crowd for Dutch—­was appropriate. But while Spense might’ve been to his fair share of rodeos, the closest she’d come to witnessing an actual cattle drive was watching City Slickers on her DVR.

As a woman waving a giant ear of corn on a stick passed by, Caitlin’s stomach gurgled. She turned her head to admire a pair of hand-­tooled leather boots, stamped with pastel flowers in a store widow. But boot shopping wasn’t on the list. If Dutch was here at the stockyards, as they hoped, they needed to concentrate on finding him.

Though she felt certain they’d not been followed, who was to say Yolanda’s attacker—­presumably the same man Spense had chased back in Preston Hollow and the same individual who’d flooded their room at the Blue Bayou with poison gas—­hadn’t gotten the same idea they had about where Dutch might be hiding. Yolanda hadn’t told him, but it wasn’t impossible he’d figured things out. She pulled her gaze off the boots.

Spense smiled at her—­and that was a sight for woebegone eyes. “You like those boots?”

She shrugged. “Just assessing the environment. Looking for likely places Dutch might’ve gone.”

“Right. He could be anywhere, including inside one of these gift shops.” Spense cupped his hand over his eyes and began peering into every store they passed.

As the density of the crowd increased, it became harder to stay together, or to recognize one Stetson from another. She realized this was actually a decent place to hide in plain sight. Some of the cowboys even had bandanas pulled over their mouths and noses. Not to mention

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