To put a finer point on it, neither am I holing up in this house like a prisoner.”
“You’re not a prisoner.”
“Then get the warden act out of your thoughts.”
Damn, but what was wrong with the women in his life? When had he become the bad guy because he didn’t want them anywhere near the unsavory aspects of life? “It’s wrong to worry about you?”
She drifted over from the stove, the scent of blueberries mixing with the pot of coffee she carried with her. “Worry is okay. Telling me what to do isn’t.”
Tate grabbed the sugar bowl off the center of the table and dumped a few teaspoons into his coffee. Arden pointedly ignored the liberal dosing of sweets and poured her own cup before sitting down.
“How do you drink that without anything in it?”
“How do you drink that,” she pointed at his mug, “with the equivalent of a cotton candy bender in it?”
He shot her a dark look over his mug. “Yet another impasse this morning.”
“You’re in a mood.” Arden got up and walked to the counter. She placed a few muffins on a plate, her attention seemingly focused on her task. “Would that have anything to do with Annabelle Granger showing up at our ranch bright and early this morning?”
What was with his family? First Ace grilled him and now Arden? He could only thank the heavens Hoyt was a man of few words. His youngest brother would sooner cut off a finger than question Tate about something personal.
“Belle has nothing to do with anything.”
“You sure?” Arden carried over the plate of fresh muffins. Tate could still see steam rising off the top as he reached for one and imagined the top of his head likely looked similar.
“Positive.”
“Then you won’t care if I set her up in here. I’ll make sure she’s got enough coffee and snacks, but you or Ace or Hoyt will need to see to it that she’s got what she needs when the men come in to talk to her.”
Tate dragged the wrapper off his muffin, tossing his breakfast from hand to hand to cool it off. “Aren’t you efficient today?”
“I’m always efficient. And prepared. I’m just glad I bought the extra blueberries in town yesterday. I figured I could use them for something.”
His sister was a mystery to him. Clichéd as it was, she was truly tough as nails, her upbringing as the youngest in a family full of boys ensuring she could hold her own. Yet even with the edge that never quite went away, she seemed to revel in her yoga and cooking from scratch and feeding the chickens they kept in their coops.
He had no objection to independence in a woman and he’d never bought into the concept of a weaker sex. Strength came in a variety of ways and the emotional support his baby sister gave their family wasn’t something to underestimate. But the yoga and the earth mother routine did confuse him. She could be anything she wanted, yet she seemed stuck in the Pass, communing with nature.
None of which was really his business. She seemed happy enough. Balanced, even.
So why did it still nag at him?
Arden reached for a muffin of her own. “So how is Belle doing? Presumably you two had a civil conversation.”
Strains of their argument came back to him, including his kidney punch of criticism at the effectiveness of the Midnight Pass police force.
Smooth, Reynolds. Real smooth.
“Belle and I don’t do civil all that well.”
Arden waved her butter knife at him. “Belle does civil just fine. You’re the stubborn one who can’t keep your mouth shut.”
“Sort of like you?”
“Chalk it up to a family trait.” Arden grinned. “But you know what I mean. You two should just jump each other and move on. It would make life a heck of a lot easier for the rest of us.”
“Amen to that,” Hoyt muttered as he came into the kitchen. Dust covered the back of his shirt and Arden was already yelling at him to go straight to the mudroom.
Tate wanted to believe he’d have been quicker on the response if Arden’s comment didn’t surprise him so or his brother hadn’t interrupted, reinforcing her suggestion. Later, he’d tell himself that was the reason. When he was out on Tot, rechecking the property, or enjoying a beer watching the night’s Astros game or brushing his teeth before bed, he’d maybe convince himself she’d simply caught him off guard.
But right now, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit, at least to himself, that he was scared.
He didn’t recognize the body in the ravine, but that didn’t mean much. Midnight Pass was a small town, but still big enough for there to be a few strangers. Add in the number of people who traveled through and it wasn’t a complete surprise the man was a stranger.
And yet...
It clawed at him. He’d lived here his whole life. He might have had his ups and down, but this was home. And now they were dealing with a possible killer on the loose?
Hoyt ambled back into the kitchen, his work shirt gone and an old high school football jersey in its place. He shot Arden a dark look as he reached for a muffin. “Happy now?”
“Yes.” She smiled, her expression prim. “I already cleaned up in here for the police and I don’t want you messing up things.”
Hoyt’s mouth firmed into a straight line and he laid his half-peeled muffin back on his plate. “They found something?”
Tate nodded. “A body. Down in one of the ravines before you hit the border.”
“Our ranch?”
“No.” Tate shook his head. “There’s blood on our property but the body was found in part of the borderlands.”
Tate filled in Hoyt on the few details he had, recounting the search as well as the findings of the K-9 team.
The Reynolds family had ranched in Midnight Pass for five generations. They’d worked the land and raised their cattle and been a part of the community. The land itself—as well as that of the Crown and the Vasquez families—was close to the US-Mexico border, but no one’s property line ran straight up to the border. The US government had seen to it that they kept a small strip to manage as its own.
Was it a coincidence that the body was discovered there? A sign, maybe?
“What do you make of it?” Hoyt asked around a bite of his muffin. “Seems odd the actual crime was committed on our property and yet the body was moved. Like a screw you to the Border Patrol?”
Tate turned the idea over in his mind. As theories went, it was as good as any. What it didn’t explain was why anything had happened on their land in the first place. “So why the cut fence?”
Hoyt shrugged. “A mystery for the cops to solve.”
