Aubrey’s bedroom was starting to resemble a dressing room at Nordstrom. There were so many clothes strewn on the bed, she could no longer see the comforter. Jill’s surprise birthday party shouldn’t have been a big deal dress wise. A pair of jeans, boots, and a T-shirt was pretty much the dress code for any Dry Creek affair, including weddings. Sometimes, the ladies changed it up with denim skirts and lace tops, but that was as formal as it got.
This time, though, she wanted to make a bold statement. Something that said don’t mess with me.
“I liked the black one.” Ellie lay in the middle of Aubrey’s clutter, watching the fashion show.
“The dress or the pantsuit?”
“The dress, the one that’s cut out in the back.”
Aubrey liked it too, but it was a wee bit over-the-top for a backyard barbecue with vinyl tablecloths and buckets of Budweiser. “You don’t think it’s too dressy?” Why was she asking a twelve-year-old when she knew damned well it was too much?
Ellie shrugged. “It’s my favorite.”
It was Mitch’s too, another good reason not to wear it.
“What about this one?” Aubrey twirled in the floral halter dress she had on. “Too Laura Ashley threw up?”
“Who’s Laura Ashley?”
Kids these days. “A famous fashion designer.”
“Never heard of her.”
“That’s probably because they don’t sell her clothes at Hollister.” Aubrey checked her ass in the mirror on the back of the door. “Well, what do you think?”
Ellie propped herself up on a couple of throw pillows and appraised the dress. “I still like the black one better.”
“The black one’s out, so stick to the program. We’re focusing on this one now.”
“It’s okay. I like the top part.”
That wasn’t very helpful. She wondered if Cash would like it. “Does my butt look big?” How could it not with giant posies plastered on her derriere?
Ellie studied her behind. “No. It’s good in that.”
At least that was something. Aubrey could tone it down with flat sandals, instead of the three-inch heels she usually wore with the dress when she met with her city clients. She took another look in the mirror. “Then this is it.”
“What should I wear?” Ellie asked.
It was on the tip of Aubrey’s tongue to say anything Ellie wanted, but what would be the fun in that? “Should we check out your closet?”
Ellie shrugged. “Okay.”
Cash had gone with Jace on something that had to do with the Bealses’ stolen cattle. He’d been tight-lipped about it and had asked her to watch Ellie for an hour or so, which wasn’t a hardship. When Ellie wasn’t being sullen, she was delightful.
Ten minutes later, they played Project Runway in Ellie’s room. This time, Aubrey sat on the bed while Ellie tried on clothes. For a girl who’d worn uniforms to school, she had quite a few outfits. Jeans, shorts, skirts, and dresses.
“I like those,” Aubrey said of a pair of white jeans with little daisies embroidered down the sides.
“I don’t think kids around here wear stuff like this.” Ellie went to the bathroom to check herself out in the mirror. Another thing for Aubrey to add to the list. They could get a full-length mirror to hang behind the door at a Walmart or Target as soon as they went on that shopping expedition.
“Sure they do,” Aubrey called to her. “What we need to get you are some cowboy boots.” She’d put that on the list too. That was something Cash and Ellie could do together. The man knew a thing or two about boots. She laughed to herself, remembering him in bed with them on.
Aubrey laughed a lot these days, despite losing her job, her home, and a fiancé she never really loved. Her whole world had been turned upside down, yet she’d never been happier.
With Mitch, everything had been a test.
Although they’d grown up together, they’d only started dating when she’d come home from college and Mitch had hired her to work for Reynolds Construction. He’d been a great boss, rewarding her with bonuses and commendations when they made their sales goals. And in the beginning, the romance had been sweet. Not the kind of stuff musicians wrote songs about but steady and solid. He’d bring flowers every Friday night and make her breakfast in bed on Sundays. And for the first couple of years, that had been enough.
But after a while it became apparent that her place in the relationship was to be the woman behind the man. When she made him look good, he reciprocated by giving her a trinket or whisking her away for the weekend to stay at a fancy resort. The rest of the time, their relationship stayed flat. Basically, roommates with benefits whose sole conversations revolved around work.
She’d chalked it up to the highs and lows of any long-term partnership. But as the years went by, the romance continued to stagnate. Her mother and her friends convinced her that marriage would infuse new life into the relationship.
It wasn’t as if Mitch hadn’t pressed the issue. Every year at tax time, he proposed, usually with a quip about how much they could save if they filed jointly.
Each time, she threw out a lame excuse for why they should wait. Until one day she decided she wasn’t getting any younger, wanted to have kids, and had already invested ten years in the relationship.
What a mistake that had been. Not once had Mitch made her feel the way Cash did. Like every day held more promise than the last.
In just a few weeks, Mr. Cash Dalton had left his mark. But could a woman fall that quickly for a guy, or was she simply on the rebound? The question would be moot if she got the Vegas job. It was an eight-hour drive from Dry Creek Ranch, too far to maintain a relationship. Maintain? What she and Cash had could hardly be called a relationship, she reminded herself.
“Aubrey, there’s a spider in here,” Ellie yelled from the bathroom. “Could you kill it?”
Aubrey found Ellie standing on the toilet seat, a daddy longlegs creeping along the old linoleum floor. She ripped off a piece of toilet paper, snatched the spider up, and took it outside to let it go.
Ellie followed her to the porch. “Why didn’t you kill it?”
“Because it wasn’t hurting anyone and spiders eat flies.”
“I’d rather have flies in the house than spiders,” Ellie said. “I hate them.”
“Tell your dad; he’ll kill them for you.” Aubrey suspected Cash would do anything for his little girl. Case in point: Ellie’s pink bedroom redo.
“He has before,” Ellie said in such a matter-of-fact way that it made Aubrey grin.
As they stood on the porch, talking about spiders, a delivery truck came up the long driveway. Aubrey shielded her eyes to see if she could read the logo on the side of the truck.
“I think that may be your furniture,” she told Ellie.
Ellie climbed up on the porch railing to have a better look and nearly gave Aubrey a heart attack. The rotted wood wasn’t strong enough to hold even a petite child.
Aubrey circled Ellie’s waist and lifted her off the top rail. “It’s not safe, El.”
Together, they went down the stairs to wait. Furniture deliveries to Aubrey were something akin to Christmas morning. She loved watching her clients’ reaction and joined in their excitement. From Ellie, though, she wasn’t feeling it.
“Well, are you anxious to see how everything looks?” She draped her arm over Ellie’s shoulder.
“I guess,” Ellie said, with the same reaction Aubrey showed when her mother made split pea soup. “Was it superexpensive?”
“Not too bad.” Aubrey pulled Ellie in for a hug. It was sweet of her to be conscientious about money, especially because Cash was out of a job. “Your dad just wants you to enjoy it, so no worries.”
Ellie didn’t say anything, but Aubrey sensed she was conflicted. Perhaps money had been really tight for her and her mother.
The truck got up to the house, then hung a U-turn so the tailgate faced the porch. Two strapping guys hopped out, one holding a clipboard.
For the next thirty minutes, they unloaded while Aubrey told them where to place the pieces she’d picked out. When the deliverymen left, Aubrey played with the positions of the furniture until she got everything just right. The room was coming together.
“Put that over there.” She handed Ellie a lamp and pointed to the nightstand. “When we go to town we’ll get a better lampshade.” The one it came with was plain white, not very imaginative.
They heard tires crunching gravel and dirt. Cash was home. Ellie ran to the living room to look outside the window.
“It’s not my dad,” she called to Aubrey, who was trying not to look overanxious.
“No? Who is it?” Sawyer probably. Aubrey knew he came over a lot to raid Cash’s refrigerator.
“I don’t know, but whoever it is has a truck like Uncle Jace’s.”
Well, that described 99 percent of the vehicles in Dry Creek. Aubrey strolled into the living room to see who it was only for the truck to continue up the road and stop directly in front of her cabin.
She squinted at the familiar-looking Ford and watched Mitch get down from the driver’s seat. What the hell was he doing here?
“Do you know him?” Ellie asked.
“Yep. Satan has come calling. Let’s see what he wants.”
The two of them headed outside and crossed the footbridge to Aubrey’s house, Ellie trying to keep up with Aubrey’s long strides. Mitch, who’d been standing in front of Aubrey’s door, must’ve heard them over the roar of the creek and turned around.
“What do you want, Mitch?”
Mitch crossed his arms and started to say something profane, then stopped himself as soon as he saw Ellie. At least he had the decency to realize his language wasn’t fit for a child.
“You and I need to talk.” He looked at her, and then at Ellie, as if to say get rid of the kid.
Aubrey wasn’t afraid of Mitch Reynolds. But the idea of keeping Ellie around just to irk him was appealing, even though she had no intention of putting Cash’s sweet little girl in the middle of this.
“Hey, Ellie, there’s ice cream in my kitchen. Why don’t you go fix yourself a bowl. I’ll be right in.”
“No, thank you.” Ellie wouldn’t leave her side, bless her heart.
With arms akimbo, Ellie tried to mimic Mitch’s stance. Aubrey noted that she still had on the white jeans with the daisy embroidery. There was a smudge on the knee, probably from moving the new furniture around.
“El”—Aubrey bent down and kissed the top of her head—“Mitch and I have to have a grown-up discussion. Go inside and eat some ice cream, please.” As Ellie started for the stairs, Aubrey whispered in her ear, “I’ll tell you everything, promise.”
As soon as Ellie disappeared behind the door, Mitch said, “What kind of crap are you up to, Aubrey?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He was psycho. She couldn’t remember what she’d seen in him in the first place. Compared to Cash, Mitch looked like an overgrown frat boy. Everything about him reminded Aubrey of a self-indulged child.
Cash, on the other hand, was all man. All cowboy.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“No, I don’t. What I do know is, the rumor you’ve spread about Jace and me has caused me no end of problems, including my livelihood, and if you keep it up, my lawyer says we’re going to sue.” Okay, she’d pulled that one out of her ass. She didn’t have a regular manicurist, let alone an attorney. But Mitch, being in construction, knew all about lawsuits and how they could grind his business to a halt. Why not put the fear of God in him?
“Who’s your lawyer?” He bobbed his head at her. “Who?”
She reached for a name, any name, and came up with “Jean Luc Mennard, that’s who. Go ahead and look him up. He’ll chew you up and spit you out like that disgusting tobacco you put in your mouth.”
Mitch leaned against his truck, like he wasn’t the least bit worried. “You’re still a total whack job, I see.” He tilted his head at Aubrey’s living room window, where Ellie’s face was smashed against the glass, spying on them. “Who’s the kid?”
“Cash Dalton’s daughter, not that it’s any of your business.”
“You throw Jace over for his cousin?” Mitch laughed, and she wanted to shove her fist in his face.
“Did you throw Jill over for another one of your best friend’s wives?” She squinted up at him defiantly, letting him know she had the goods to crush him in this town. “Don’t mess with me, Mitch.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “The best thing that ever happened to me was the day you walked out. To think, I could’ve been stuck with you for the rest of my life.”
To think she could’ve been stuck with a man who had so little honor that he’d boff his best friend’s wife. “Mitch, what do you want?”
“I want you to stay away from Jill’s party on Saturday. Knowing you, you’ll make a scene and blow everything out of proportion, like you did at the coffee shop. Save us all the drama, Ree, and make yourself scarce. I’ll even get your car detailed for you.”
So, Mitch was running scared. Interesting that he’d brought up her car. “Brett wants me there, Mitch, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She flashed a big saccharine smile. “Jace will be there too, and he knows what you did this summer.”
“God, you’re crazy. Why don’t you move to Sacramento or San Francisco, where you can get the help you need?”
“Did you pay someone to graffiti my car and put water in my gas tank, Mitch?” He probably put Leroy up to it. Leroy was the only person she could think of in town who couldn’t spell “whore.”
Mitch made the cuckoo-cuckoo sign with his finger. “I’m serious: get some help. And if you and Jace care about Brett, you’ll keep your mouths shut. It’s not like anyone would believe you anyway.”
Probably not after Mitch had started his ugly rumor campaign.
“Brett would,” she said. “But the difference between you and me is that I could never hurt Brett. Never.”
“Whatever, Aubrey.” He opened his truck door and started to get in. “Just try to contain the crazy for an afternoon. No one needs another replay of your coffee shop melt down. You’re lucky I dropped the charges.”
After she’d spent five hours in a cell that reeked of stale urine.
“You’re lucky I didn’t aim higher with that carafe.”
He rolled his eyes, got in his truck, and slammed the door closed.
Aubrey had no intention of letting him drive off without giving him a piece of her mind. And a warning. “Don’t you dare screw up Jace’s chance at reelection. Do you hear me, Mitch?” She jerked the door open before he could drive off. “I’m talking to you.”
“Let go of the door, Aubrey.”
He tried to wrestle it closed and knocked over a Dutch Bros coffee cup in the struggle. The lid popped off and coffee spilled all over the passenger seat. “Goddamn it. Now look what you’ve done.” He hurriedly cleared a stack of papers before they got soaked.
A parcel map caught her eye and she leaned in to get a closer look. “What’s that?”
He jerked it away, but she’d worked at Reynolds Construction long enough to be able to read a plat upside down.
“That’s Beals Ranch.” She knew from the road designations that flanked the property lines.
“What it is is none of your business.” He hastily tried to cover the map, but it was too late. She’d seen the red markings that carefully blocked sections of land.
Someone was planning a housing division.
Mitch shoved the map along with a pile of other papers behind his seat, then searched through the glove box for napkins. She stood there, trying to process what she’d seen, while he cleaned up the mess. As far as she knew, Beals Ranch wasn’t for sale. The property had been in Jill’s family for generations and was still a working cattle ranch. If it had been on the market, everyone in Dry Creek would’ve known about it. The Bealses, like the Daltons, were an institution in the area.
Maybe someone had made them an offer too good to refuse. Surely not Mitch. Reynolds Construction did well, but not well enough to afford a thousand California acres of flat, usable land. And if someone else had purchased the property and hired Mitch’s company to develop it, word would’ve spread through the valley like wildfire. Mitch also wouldn’t have acted so squirrelly when Aubrey saw the plat. The blowhard would’ve bragged about bagging the biggest project in the valley and how rich he was going to get.
No, something was up. Before she could probe for more details, Mitch slammed the door, spun his truck around, and sped away. Ellie raced out the door and down the porch steps.
“What did he want?”
Aubrey caught Ellie in a hug. “Nothing important.”
“He looked mad, like he was going to do something to you.”
“Nah, that’s his everyday look.” Jackass, moron, cheater, take your pick.
“Does my dad know him?” Ellie stared past the trees, where they could still see the back of Mitch’s truck jackknifing at the end of the road.
“I don’t think so, but your Uncle Jace does. They used to be best friends.”
“They’re not anymore?”
“Nope.” Aubrey ruffled Ellie’s hair. She was an inquisitive kid, that’s for sure. “They had a falling out. Let’s go finish your bedroom.”
* * * *
Cash couldn’t believe he was getting sucked into this. Jace had rolled up to the cabin at nine in the morning, said he didn’t need a warrant because the Bealses had given him permission to search their property, and he wanted Cash to come along. For some deranged reason Cash didn’t fully understand, he had agreed. Almost gleefully.
So here they were, trying to find where thieves might’ve set up a mobile slaughterhouse without drawing attention from any of the neighboring ranches. It was a big spread, and there were lots of pockets where there wasn’t another house for miles. The closest neighbors were Denny’s horse farm and Dry Creek Ranch. They all shared the same artery—Dry Creek Road—to Highway 49, which turned into Main Street and went straight through town. There was no other way in and no other way out unless you went by helicopter. But with acres and acres of land between ranches, a person could set up any number of illicit enterprises and no one would be the wiser.
That was why Cash was working under the theory that the thieves had literally set up a chop shop on the ranch rather than drawing attention to themselves by trucking all those cattle through town. Black market meat was a good business. Shady restaurateurs, grocers, butchers, and even some distributors could snatch up prime cuts of beef for a fraction of the price of USDA-approved meat. It happened all the time in San Francisco.
“I’m not seeing anything that raises suspicion,” Red said. The inspector had met them at Beals Ranch and had walked the barns with them.
If the animals had been slaughtered on-site, chances were good they’d find traces of blood, bones, hide, or even some whole carcasses. There was a lot of ground to cover. Cash had suggested searching the barns first because they were controlled locations that would serve an illegal slaughterhouse setup well. But that didn’t mean the thieves hadn’t used one of the Beals pastures.
“Let’s go back to where you found the ATV tracks,” Cash said, even though Jace had said they’d thoroughly combed the area. Still, it made sense that the thieves would stay as close to the cattle as possible, instead of moving them to another location. It would’ve taken too long, for one thing, and herding two hundred head on the backs of three-wheelers was a noisy enterprise.
“I think that’s a waste of time.” Red checked his phone; perhaps he had another appointment. “Truthfully, I think this whole expedition is futile. By now, any evidence left behind is either in the ground or has been eaten by birds and animals.”
He was probably right, but if they found something, even something small, it could turn into a good lead. Right now, they had nothing.
“If you’ve got somewhere to be, Cash and I can finish up here.” Jace sounded cordial enough, but Cash knew his cousin well enough to recognize annoyance. He thought Red was phoning it in.
“Nah,” Red said. “Let’s go check it out; it certainly can’t hurt.”
That was Cash’s way of thinking. They piled into Jace’s truck and Red followed them in his own vehicle. It took about twenty minutes to get to the pasture where the cattle had been grazing, the scene of the crime. Some of the drive was on a well-maintained dirt road, but a good chunk of the trip required all-wheel drive across rutted and bumpy fields. Because of the heat, the fire danger was high, so Jace took it slow. All it took was one spark in the grass from a hot exhaust pipe or muffler.
Unlike Dry Creek Ranch, the Beals had managed to weather the drought. Their fences were sturdy, their outbuildings well kept, and the land hadn’t been overtaken by weeds.
“Nice place,” Cash acknowledged out loud.
“Yep. This is what Dry Creek Ranch could look like.”
“If we won a Powerball jackpot.” When was Jace going to get it through that thick head of his that reviving the property was a pipe dream? “I think Beals Ranch is twice the size. It must be worth a pretty penny.”
Jace slid him a sideways glance. “Is that all you can think about? There’s history here, Cash. This is the Bealses’…our …heritage, for God’s sake. But all you seem to see are dollar signs.”
Cash resented the remark. It made him sound like a money-grubbing piece of shit. “Unlike you, I’m practical. You know what you could do for the boys with the proceeds from Dry Creek Ranch? For one, you could send them to college.”
Jace visibly bristled. “We do fine.”
“Oh yeah. Then I gather you’re socking away money for Travis and Grady’s education.”
Silence. Yeah, that’s what Cash thought. A sheriff in a small rural county didn’t make a big salary, and unfortunately, that’s what it took to raise a family in California.
“The way things are going, you don’t even know if you’ll get reelected,” Cash said.
“Then I’ll become a full-time cattle rancher.”
Cash laughed, because no one in this state ranched full time anymore. The land was too valuable to run cattle. Most ranchers had day jobs to make ends meet. They raised livestock because they wanted to preserve a culture and lifestyle that had been handed down to them through the ages. But if they wanted to pay their mortgage and put shoes on their children’s feet, they needed an outside income.
“Get real, Jace.”
Jace steered around a grove of trees where a small herd of Angus had assembled to take advantage of the shade. “We’ll come up with something, Cash. But we’re not selling.”
They’d had this conversation so many times, Cash didn’t bother to argue. For now, Dry Creek was a good place for Ellie. Safe, with plenty of room for a kid to stretch her legs. He wanted her to have it long enough to make the same kinds of memories he’d made here as a boy. What happened after that…well, they’d have to wait and see.
Jace cut the engine where the fence had been repaired, the point of entry where the thieves had unloaded their ATVs. Cash got out and walked off the area.
“How big was the cut in the fence?”
Jace came over and pointed to two yellow markers that were spaced at least fourteen feet apart. Definitely enough room for a large rig to get inside. Cash crouched down, dug under the grass, and let a scoop of dirt sift through his hands.
“Over there is where we found the tire tracks.”
“Do the Bealses have ATVs?” Without the insurance component, it pretty much ruled them out as suspects. Still, the suspects could’ve used the Bealses’ ATVs in the theft and—in a perfect world—left evidence that would help identify them. Sure, like a business card. Wouldn’t that be nice?
“Yep. We already checked that out. They don’t match the tracks.”
Red pulled up behind Jace’s truck and took his time joining them. It looked to Cash like he was on the phone. The Bureau of Livestock Identification, an arm of the California Department of Food and Agriculture, was probably like any other state agency. Strapped for resources. Cash assumed Red’s territory was a large swath of the state. And with the rise in livestock thefts, he had his hands full.
Jace wasn’t as sympathetic. He gazed over at Red’s truck and rolled his eyes.
“When is he retiring?” Cash asked.
“Officially, a couple of weeks. Unofficially, it looks like today.”
Cash had to admit that Red didn’t seem too invested in the investigation. This wasn’t your average cattle-rustling case; two hundred head was a big deal. He would’ve thought Red would be more involved, retirement or not.
Cash stood by the fence, gazing over the land, trying to identify where he would’ve set up shop. The field was fairly remote, though sound carried in the still of the night. And in darkness, the thieves would’ve needed light.
“Any electricity out here?”
“Nope. They probably brought a generator.”
Cash nodded. “What’s over there?” He directed Jace’s attention fifty or so feet away and started hiking toward the spot.
“Where?” Jace came up behind him.
“Over there.” Cash pointed. It could’ve just been a trick of the eye, but the grass looked flatter there than it did in the rest of the field.
As they got closer, he could see tire tracks and didn’t think they belonged to an ATV. But there hadn’t been a trail from the fire road where the fence had been cut. Whoever drove here came from another direction.
Red’s truck door slammed. He cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, “Did you find something?”
Jace waved him over.
“I think this is where they set up some kind of staging area,” Cash told Jace and walked around the disturbed ground, trying to find the continuation of the tracks.
“There.” Jace pointed. “They came from there.”
Red joined them. He was out of breath and sweat had soaked through his Western shirt. “What did you find?”
Cash kicked the tracks with his foot. “See the way the grass is flat and the ground indented? I think they parked a trailer here.”
Red squatted and took a closer look. “How do we know this wasn’t one of the Bealses’ rigs, delivering water or feed? It wasn’t here before.”
“Or we didn’t see it before.” Jace made eye contact with Cash.
“It was pretty easy to miss. If that herd over there”—Cash pointed at the trees, where more than twenty cows stood in the shade—“had been here, I probably wouldn’t have noticed anything.”
Jace followed the tracks for a distance. “Check it out. If I’m reading it right, we’re talking multiple tires.”
That was Cash’s initial impression when he’d first seen the tread marks. “A semitrailer. But where did it come from?”
“Beats the hell out of me.” Red snapped a few pictures with his camera.
“I’m thinking they barreled right through the fence.” Jace continued to scan the area and kicked the dirt. “The ground is so dry, it didn’t leave impressions until they parked, and with the weight of the cattle inside…”
It was as good a theory as any, Cash supposed.
“I don’t know; we saw the ATV tracks clear as day,” Red said.
That could’ve been intentional, Cash thought. “I’m operating under the theory they did everything right here.”
“Slaughtering two hundred head? That would’ve taken hours and hours,” Red said, unconvinced.
“Convenient that no one was home.” Jace exchanged another glance with Cash.
Red looked at both of them. “Inside job?”
It was a good guess. The question was, if not the Beals, then who on the inside was behind it?