a description like the one you just gave me...” Hud shook his head. His phone rang and he reached for it. “Marshal Savage.” He listened, his gaze going to Laramie. “Okay. Yep, that’ll do it.” Hanging up, he picked up the signed report and ripped it in half before tossing it into the trash.
“What?” Laramie demanded.
“I just spoke with the owner of the house. He hadn’t planned to come up this holiday, but apparently McKenzie called him yesterday and told him you would be looking at the house. Seems he’s anxious to sell, so he flew in tonight.” Hud met his gaze. “When I called the maintenance service and asked them to check the house, they found him there. He looked around to see what was missing and found nothing out of order.”
“There wasn’t anything missing? Was he sure?”
“It seems he has a painting, just like that one...” He pointed to the one leaning against the wall on the floor near Laramie, the painting the cat burglar had dropped. “It isn’t missing.”
“That’s not possible.”
Hud shrugged. “The owner says he has the original—the only one of its kind. Also, he said his house hasn’t been broken into.”
“That can’t be right. I saw her coming out of the house.”
“Or did you just see her on the ridge of the garage roofline?” the marshal asked.
Laramie thought back. “Maybe I didn’t see her come out of the house.”
“Since the first report we received about a cat burglar, we’ve had several sightings. But in all three cases, nothing was taken, the house showed no sign of forced entry...”
Laramie could see where this was going. “So it was a...hoax?”
Hud studied him openly for a moment. “You didn’t happen to mention to your brothers that you were going up to that house tonight, did you? They also didn’t happen to tell you beforehand about a cat burglar in the area, did they?”
He would kill his brothers. “You think it was a setup?”
Hud shrugged. “You know your brothers better than I do, but I’d say you’ve been had.”
Had in more ways than the marshal could even imagine. He got to his feet. “I’m sorry to bother you with this, then. I just hope they haven’t planted counterfeit money on me, as well.” His brothers had told him that Hud was investigating a counterfeit operation that had been passing fraudulent money in the canyon.
“Let’s hope not,” Hud said with a groan. “I get a call a day about a bad twenty. Someone’s churning them out,” he said getting to his feet. “In the old days it took a lot of expensive equipment and space along with some talent. Now, all you need is a good copy machine. A video online will walk you through the entire process. The good news is that these operations are often small. We aren’t talking millions of dollars. Just someone needing some instant spending money.”
“Well, good luck finding your counterfeiter and, again, I’m sorry about this. You have enough going on.” But as he turned to the door, he said, “What about the painting?”
“The owner swears he has the authenticated original with paperwork on the back.” Hud shrugged. “I would imagine this is nothing more than a cheap prop.”
“Then you don’t mind if I keep it?” Laramie asked.
The marshal chuckled. “It’s all yours.”
Laramie considered the painting on the floor. It was what he would have called Old West art, a rancher on horseback surveying his herd. It was titled “On The Ranch” and signed by an artist named Taylor West. The painting looked expensive to him, but what did he know?
“If someone comes looking for it, I’ll let you know. But I have my doubts.” Hud grinned. “If you ever see that woman again, though... I’d be curious just what color her eyes are since they seem to have made a real impression on you.”
* * *
“REALLY?” LARAMIE DEMANDED when he saw his brother Tanner “Hayes” Cardwell at his house the next morning. “That wasn’t funny what you and the others pulled last night.” He couldn’t help but wonder if the kiss had been planned, as well. It was a nice touch, something that would have had his brothers rolling on the floor laughing. “Hud got a real kick out of it since he has nothing to do but take bogus crime reports. I hope he arrests the whole bunch of you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hayes said as he poured coffee for them.
Laramie looked to his sister-in-law and real-estate agent McKenzie. He’d been staying with them this holiday and, while he enjoyed being with them, he was anxious to get his own place. McKenzie had been helping him find a house.
“Tell me you weren’t in on it, too,” he said to her.
“I abhor practical jokes.” McKenzie shot a disapproving glance at her husband. “What did you and your brothers do?”
“Nothing. Honest. I have no idea what he’s talking about,” Hayes said holding up his hands. He looked genuinely innocent.
But Laramie wasn’t buying it. He knew his brothers too well. They’d all treated him as if he was the bookworm who ran their family business, Texas Boys Barbecue. They would all have said he was the brother who never had enough adventure in his life.
So it would be just like them to set this up to add some spice to his life, as they would call it.
“Who was the woman?” Laramie demanded.
“There was a woman?” Hayes asked and grinned.
McKenzie shook her head. “You’ll have to tell me about it on the way to the house, Laramie. I promised the owner we’d be there by nine. You can deal with your brothers later.”
On the way up the mountain, he told McKenzie about what had happened last night.
“That doesn’t sound like something Hayes would do,” she said. “Are you sure your brothers were behind it?”
“It’s the only thing that makes any sense. I saw her leaving with a painting. So, of course, I thought she’d stolen it. I guess that’s what I was supposed to think.”
“Are you sure the painting you have is a fake?”
“It doesn’t look like it to me, but I’m no expert by any means. The owner says he still has the original. So maybe I stopped the woman before she could make the switch, but I could have sworn she was coming from the house.”
McKenzie seemed to give it some thought. “Maybe she saw your headlights coming up the road and took off before she could make the switch.”
“I suppose. If she really was a cat burglar. Or it could be just what the marshal thinks it is—my brothers’ idea of a joke.
“I know an art expert if you’re interested in finding out about the painting. Or, if it is by a local Western artist, you could take it right to
