Caitlan didn't relish having a confrontation with Randal, but she knew there'd be no getting around it. Stopping, she turned to face him, and he nearly bumped into her. Glaring at her as if she was to blame for his clumsiness, he straightened.
'I don't know what you're talking about, Randal,' she replied, keeping one eye on the ranch house to be sure no one saw or heard them.
His eyes glittered savagely. 'Don't play stupid with me! Who the hell are you?'
She recoiled from the sour odor of onions and liquor on his breath. Although he'd been drinking, he seemed to be in complete control of his senses. 'You know who I am.'
His gaze narrowed. The moonlight highlighted his face, giving his features a diabolic slant. 'What are you doing here?' he demanded.
She knew what he was asking and chose to avoid the obvious. 'You heard what happened.' Her voice was calm and well-modulated. She felt no real fear or threat from him. Yet.
'Oh, yes,' he said disdainfully. 'The story of how you're a guest at Parson's and how you just
Crossing her arms over her chest, she affected a pose of casualness, refusing to take his bait. 'That's correct.'
'Funny how Parson's doesn't have a Caitlan Daniels registered.'
'Pardon?' A frisson of panic raced down Caitlan's spine. How could he have known?
'I called Parson's.' A smug smile lifted his mouth and challenge lit his eyes. 'They've never heard of you.'
Careful to keep her composure intact while her mind raced with explanations, she replied in a mild tone, 'There's obviously been a mistake.'
He leaned close, and his noxious breath nearly made her gag. 'I don't think so,' he said in a low, menacing voice. 'I'll ask you again: Who are you and what are you doing here?'
'I think you're getting a little paranoid, Randal.' She turned to go, but he grabbed her arm, whirling her around.
'Bitch!' he hissed. 'I don't know what you're up to, but by the time I'm done with you you'll be off this ranch and wearing handcuffs for trespassing-'
'J.T. won't allow it.' Caitlan knew that even though J.T. had been gruff at times today, he wasn't a cruel man.
He gripped her arm tighter, pinching the flesh so fiercely she winced. 'We'll just see what J.T. has to say about your lies,' he sneered, jerking her around and shoving her back toward the house. 'He doesn't take lightly to women lying. All it will take is a phone call to Parson's to verify who's telling the truth and who's an imposter.'
Chapter Four
Randal barged into J.T.'s office without knocking and thrust Caitlan into the middle of the room with such force that she stumbled. Catching her balance by grabbing one of the two chairs in front of J.T.'s desk, she shot Randal a vexed look, briefly wondering how she was going to explain herself out of this predicament.
J.T. glanced up from the open ledger on his desk to the unexpected intrusion, a deep frown pulling at his brows. Casting a sharp glance from Randal to Caitlan, he closed the ledger and pushed it aside. 'What's going on?'
Taking up guard next to Caitlan, Randal crossed his arms over his chest, a look of belligerence about him. 'We have a liar on our hands.'
'Randal, what the hell are you talking about?' J.T. asked irritably. Standing, he rubbed at the muscles in his neck.
Randal glanced at Caitlan, a cocksure smile curling his lips. 'Would you like to tell him or should I?'
'It's your story,' she replied sweetly. 'By all means, go right ahead.'
His eyes darkened to a turbulent shade of brown at the sarcasm threading her words; then he turned to J.T. again. 'I called Parson's to check up on our guest. They've never heard of her,' he said, his voice dripping with accusation.
Something flickered in the depths of J.T.'s eyes, a blending of wariness and his own growing suspicion. 'Caitlan?' His tone indicated that he wanted an explanation.
She shrugged negligently, belying the nervousness settling within her. 'I told him they must have made a mistake.'
Their eyes held for an eternity, his gaze searching and probing for the truth. Finally he released a long breath of air. 'She's probably right, Randal.'
'She's a fraud, J.T.!' Randal stepped up to the desk and planted his palms on the surface, leaning across. 'She shows up out of nowhere, has free access to the ranch and house, and she isn't registered at Parson's. She's probably a gold digger of some sort, no better than Stacey-'
A muscle in J.T.'s jaw twitched. 'Randal-'
'I was very thorough when I called Parson's,' he continued determinedly. 'The registration clerk, Jason, assured me that there's no Caitlan Daniels listed as a guest. If you don't believe me, then call yourself. Or does she have you too ensnared?' His eyes glinted with challenge. Digging into his jacket pocket, he tossed a piece of paper with a phone number on it to J.T. 'Go ahead, and then I'll be more than happy to call the sheriff to come pick her up.'
Indecision played across J.T.'s face, and his cousin's influence won the battle. With a sigh, he reached for the phone.
Caitlan honestly didn't expect J.T. to side with her after all the evidence Randal had just given him, but she couldn't understand why J.T. wasn't suspicious of Randal's overzealousness. With a sense of dread, she watched J.T. punch out the phone number for Parson's, identify himself to the person on the other end of the phone, then ask to speak with Hugh Parson.
J.T. glanced at Caitlan as he waited on hold for his call to connect to Hugh. She was chewing on her bottom lip, her face shadowed with an emotion similiar to worry. This whole confrontation in his office was bizarre: Randal's fanatical conduct, Caitlan's sudden anxiousness, and his own need to confirm that Randal was wrong about Caitlan. He didn't want to think that everything had been a lie with her, a setup of some kind.
Dammit, he didn't want to think she might be as cunning as Stacey.
'Rafferty, what can I do for you?' boomed the voice of the sixty-four-year-old Hugh Parson. 'You callin' to offer some of that brawn of yours to help repair the bridge?'
J.T. grinned his fondness for the old family friend. 'Sorry, Hugh. I've got my hands full here at the Circle R.'
'Yeah, well, those damn county engineers don't know their heads from a hat rack!' Hugh grumbled. 'At the rate they're going, I'll be bankrupt before they're through! Can't get people in, can't send them out. Can you believe this has happened? I'd of sworn that bridge was indestructible. It's been around since your father and I were boys. We watched them build the dang-blasted thing!'
J.T. gave a low whistle. 'That long ago, huh? Maybe that's why it collapsed.'
'Hey, watch yourself, boy!' Hugh's gruff retort held only affection. 'Now, what can I do for you?'
J.T. met Caitlan's gaze, and she offered him a slight smile more tentative than confident. Clearing his throat, he addressed the older man, 'I believe I have one of your guests here on my ranch.'
'You do?'
'Yes,' J.T. said, uneasy with Hugh's perplexed tone. 'I need to know if you have a Caitlan Daniels registered at the dude ranch.'
'Caitlan Daniels?' Hugh repeated the name slowly, as if running a mental index on all his customers. 'Can't say the name sounds familiar, but then, I've got over fifty people registered right now. Unfortunately, I don't know everyone by name, but that doesn't mean she's not a guest here.'
'Could you check her out for me?'
'I could, but the storm did a number on my computers and they're down,' Hugh said with a regretful sigh. 'Don't know when they'll be up and runnin' again. I can check with the guides and see what I come up with.'
'I'd appreciate that.'
