Colorado Abduction - By Cassie Miles & Marie Ferrarella Page 0,29
Beneath their jackets, shapeless dresses hung to their ankles.
“Interesting fashion statement,” she said. “You say that a man can do anything. What about a woman?”
“Our women are respected and revered,” he said. “They’re the glue that holds civilization together. They raise our children, provide sustenance and create a healthful environment.”
To Carolyn’s ears, his language was code for cooking, cleaning and popping out babies. “That doesn’t sound like much of a life.”
“Not to someone like you.” His upper lip curled in a sneer. “A career woman.”
What did I ever see in this jerk? His golden hair, broad shoulders and perfect features didn’t make up for his ridiculous, misogynistic ideas. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
“Because I’ve always been right.” His sneer turned into a dazzling white smile. “Our women are happy here. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to talk to them and hear for yourself.”
“Wonderful.” The way she figured, some of these respected, revered ladies had to be dissatisfied. They were probably the best lead to finding Nicole.
Two cowboys stalked toward them. Unlike their leader, they weren’t smiling.
Logan motioned to the taller of the two and issued an order. “Escort Carolyn to the kitchen. She can help the ladies prepare lunch.”
She hadn’t come here to peel potatoes. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather—”
“I do mind,” Logan said. “We have a division of labor. The men discuss business. And the ladies…”
“Prepare lunch?”
“I’m glad you understand. Run along now.”
Nobody, but nobody, told her to run along. She was the CEO of an international corporation. She negotiated with heads of state. She knew the governor.
But this wasn’t about her. She was here to get information about Nicole. And the women would probably be more sympathetic than the men.
Baring her teeth in a false smile, she said, “You boys have a good time. Don’t tire yourself out with too much heavy thinking.”
She pivoted and strode toward the ranch house.
Chapter Ten
Burke watched as Carolyn stormed toward the house. The cowboy who accompanied her tried to take her arm and she yanked away so fast that he stepped back, giving her plenty of space. Smart move. After Logan’s women-belong-in-the-kitchen comments, Carolyn was volatile.
Though she could probably take care of herself, Burke still didn’t like the idea of being separated from her. When entering a dangerous situation, partners should stick together.
“I see the way you’re looking at her,” Logan said.
“I’m concerned,” Burke said. “She’s a victim. A kidnapping hurts the family almost as much as it hurts the person who has been abducted.”
“Carolyn’s a fine looking woman.”
Burke lied, “She’s not my type. She’d just as soon kick my ass as kiss me.”
The short cowboy who stood with them chuckled. Burke introduced himself and got the other man’s name—Wesley Tindall. If he got enough names for Corelli to investigate through criminal databases, they might have a clue about what actually went on at the Circle M.
He looked toward the bunkhouse where two guys were working on a huge piece of machinery. “Installing a generator?”
“I told you. We want to be self-sufficient. Except for the house, all our heat comes from propane.”
“But you still have to buy the propane tanks.”
“We have a big stockpile.”
Burke cringed inside. If it came to a showdown with the SOF, a stray bullet could penetrate the stockpile of propane tanks and cause an explosion that would rock the mountains. “Let’s get down to business, Logan. I’d like to interview your men. Someone might have noticed something unusual last night.”
“Like what?”
Logan’s voice sounded suspicious. The best way to get information from this guy was to constantly feed his giant ego. “Damned if I know. This case has me baffled. You might have some ideas.”
The handsome blond cowboy shrugged. “Ask your questions.”
“First, I’d like to get my bearings.” Burke took a couple of steps and looked beyond the bunkhouse to the west. “I’m a city guy. Pretty much lost in all this wide-open space.”
“I’ve lived here all my life,” Logan said smugly. “I know every rock and tree.”
Burke deliberately pointed in the wrong direction. “Is the Carlisle Ranch that way?”
“Not even close.” Logan aimed his forefinger like a gun. “The house is over there—only about four miles away as the crow flies. Following roads, it’s more than that.”
“And where’s the Widow Grant’s place?”
“Do you see that break in the hills? It’s an old Indian trail. Widow Grant lives just south of there.”
Carolyn had mentioned the Indian Trail at the edge of the south pasture where all the sabotage had taken place. Burke wondered if it was significant.
Logan asked,