shut up about that event.
“Ahh,” Jeremy said with a clearly forced smile on his narrow face. “Our deputy there is being a bit modest. Yes, it did turn out to be a family problem, but the members whose cattle disappeared didn’t know that at first, and neither did we. Casey figured it out—and found the missing cattle. There were some charges brought against the thieving relatives but they talked it through and paid for some of our time and…well, it’s all resolved now, and they’re back to being okay.”
“Okay,” Clarence repeated. He, too, had turned to face the sheriff. “You won’t find anything similar in my situation, though.”
“No,” Jeremy said. “There’s a lot more involved. Why don’t you tell Deputy Colton about it?” He nodded to the selectman, then looked back at Casey.
He was right, Casey thought as Clarence filled him in. This situation didn’t sound nearly as simple as the one Casey had helped with before. For one thing, it involved the disappearance of a dozen cows, not just three. And they were Angus cows being used to procreate, to increase the number of cattle at the ranch and for sale to other ranches.
Very valuable Angus cows. Each was worth thousands of dollars.
No wonder Clarence was upset.
“I want you to act quickly,” he continued. “One good thing is that I’ve had all the cattle tagged with GPS, but the terrain doesn’t work for cars, and helicopters or planes couldn’t land there. Seeing anything like that could cause the rustlers to kill the cattle and run, anyway. Even drones could scare them into doing something bad. They seem to be on the move so we can’t pinpoint where they are for you to send a whole team in to get them. Not yet, at least. And—”
Casey heard a buzzing sound. Clarence pulled a phone out of his pocket and looked at it, then listened.
After a minute he said, “Damn. I need to head back to my office right now for an important meeting. I want someone from here who knows what he’s doing to get to my ranch right away. A couple of ranch hands are there and can show you around and explain what happened and when.” He stood and began pacing between Casey and his superior’s desk again. He looked at Casey. “Since you’ve solved one rustling case lately, even though it’s not quite the same thing, I agree with Sheriff Krester that it makes sense for you to go and scope things out. Maybe even solve it on the spot.” His grin toward Casey was wide, though his eyes narrowed and remained skeptical.
Casey asked, “Any people you think might be the rustlers—family members or not?”
“Not,” Clarence said strongly. “I trust my family—but that didn’t stop me from notifying the local members by phone and listening to their shock and sympathy. And analyzing it. I’ve no reason to suspect any of them. Besides…”
He paused, looked from Casey toward the sheriff, then back again.
“Besides what?” Jeremy prompted, as Casey believed was appropriate, considering the way Clarence had spoken and looked at him.
“Besides, the dozen cattle of mine that were stolen were all very valuable females. Cows.” He paused. “So that tells me that whoever did it was one hell of a coward.” All three of them laughed at the emphasis he placed on the first syllable—briefly and not particularly hilariously.
“Well, let me at him. Or her.” Casey stood directly in front of the selectman. “I won’t allow whoever it is to cow me. I’ll do my damnedest to figure this out soon and get your cattle back.”
Melody Hayworth pulled opened the front door of the main house of OverHerd Ranch before the doorbell finished chiming.
She’d been waiting inside uncomfortably, along with Pierce Tostig, one of the other ranch hands, since their boss had called half an hour ago.
It was midafternoon. Earlier, a couple of the other hands had headed out toward the pasture where one of the herds of special, valuable Angus cattle had supposedly spent the night and morning, as usual…but they hadn’t found them there. Using the GPS apps on their phones, they’d confirmed that the geotagged cows were now far away, somewhere still on the ranch, but heading toward its outer edges. It appeared that the fence had been partly destroyed, apparently by rustlers, and the cows had gotten out. Those hands had called Clarence, who’d expressed concern not only about the missing stock, but also about those that remained. He’d insisted that all of the ranch hands—or at least most of them—find and protect the rest.
He’d also said he’d get the authorities involved, and then ordered that a couple of employees—Pierce Tostig and Melody—should stick around to help and advise the sheriff’s department when someone from there arrived at the ranch, then stay involved in finding those missing cattle.
Now, Melody said “Please come in” to the man in uniform who stood there—a deputy sheriff, according to the patch on his upper left sleeve.
“Thanks.” He immediately held out his hand for a shake after she shut the door. “I’m Deputy Casey Colton,” he said. “I was sent here by Selectman Clarence Edison because—”
“Because some of our—his—cattle have been rustled,” Melody interrupted. She had no need to wait for any further introductions, but she noticed that his grip was strong and somehow sexy, which was irrelevant. Her boss had made it clear in his phone call that she and the others were to give the deputy who showed up all the information they had about the rustling situation. And to show him where the cattle had been located, and how they’d apparently gotten out…with help.
“Let’s go in here first,” she said to Deputy Colton, gesturing for him to follow her through the attractively decorated wooden entryway into the adjoining living room. Melody considered the decor a bit overdone, but it worked well for a ranch house owned by someone as revered—and rich—as her boss.
She watched the deputy’s face as he looked around. The guy was good-looking, and not just because he wore that uniform. His hair was brown and cut relatively short. His matching eyebrows over dazzling blue eyes were nicely arched and his chin was slightly prominent. He had some light facial hair, maybe surprising because of his job. But it looked good on him.
In fact, every part of his appearance was eye-catching—and Melody could have kicked herself for even noticing.
The only thing important about this guy was whether he could find the missing cattle.
For now, his boots rapped on the portion of the wooden floor not covered by an antique gold-and-brown area rug. The deputy approached Pierce, who stood near one of the windows at the far side of the room beside the stone fireplace.
Heading toward them, Pierce was dressed even more casually than Melody’s typical blue denim work shirt, jeans and black boots with tight laces. He wore an oversize, short-sleeved white T-shirt and overly faded jeans—fashionable, perhaps, but it seemed as if there were more holes than denim.
“Hi,” the deputy said, stopping near the side of the ornate brown leather sofa set that dominated the room’s seating arrangement. He introduced himself to Pierce, as he’d done with Melody, and was clearly taking charge of this meeting. “Can we sit down? I want to hear everything about the missing cattle—where they were, who discovered they were gone. Everything.”
“Yeah, I figured.” Pierce plopped
