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SITTING IN DEREK’S office, Kiera printed out the contract she’d present to Sabrina. If she knew anything, it was the importance of keeping records. Next, she worked on adjusting Derek’s bookkeeping system, one that would be more appropriate for a professional bookkeeper to use. Derek hadn’t given the green light to hire someone, but she sensed he understood he didn’t have the discipline to do the data entry himself. She switched to her laptop and sent an email to Paulette, asking if she was doing any freelance work in her retirement. Next on her list. Call Natalie.
Not wanting to deal with the panic every time the wind picked up, or someone walked their dog down the sidewalk, Kiera had deactivated alerts on her doorbell system. Instead, she’d dutifully looked at the saved videos each morning and evening. Other than the man-who-might-be-Stu, there’d been nothing.
Her neighborhood wasn’t a drop in for coffee kind of place, and—with a twinge of regret—Kiera didn’t have a circle of friends who would come by, either. Right now, that was all good news.
“How are you getting along?” Kiera asked when Natalie answered.
“I think I might have overwatered your aloe,” Natalie said.
“Don’t worry about it. Leave it alone, and it’ll bounce back. No more strange people at the door?”
“Nope. You got a package from FedEx yesterday. The idiot driver left it by the sidewalk instead of the front door. Lucky I noticed it.”
Kiera couldn’t remember ordering anything, and people rarely sent her gifts unless it was her birthday or Christmas, which it wasn’t. “Did it say where it was from?”
“I didn’t look. I’ll check.”
While Natalie went off, Kiera went through her doorbell app again. FedEx normally left things on the front porch. Normally didn’t mean always, and she’d had packages left inside her property line before when her regular driver was off. If the driver stayed on the sidewalk, her doorbell camera wouldn’t pick him up.
“The return address is a PO Box in San Jose. No company name,” Natalie reported. “It’s smudged, so I can’t make it out completely. The box isn’t in very good shape. I left it in the garage.”
“Driver probably threw it. Wouldn’t be the first time.” Kiera still couldn’t remember ordering anything from San Jose or anywhere else, although distribution centers were often located in parts of the country other than where the company was headquartered. “Did you see the truck?” she asked.
“No. Just the package lying there. Looked like he tossed it into the yard.”
In an effort to get her mind away from strange packages and what they might mean, Kiera asked, “How’s your remodel going?”
“Slow,” Natalie said. “The sink hardware is on back-order, and one of the boxes of tiles was missing. The usual.”
“I hear you. Keep me posted. You have anywhere to go today?”
“I’m pulling a double at the hospital, so I’ll be gone until tomorrow morning.”
They ended the call, and Kiera again wondered about paying for a hotel room for Natalie. She’d be out of the house, which was a good thing in case the box represented a danger. It was possible she had ordered something and had forgotten. Or someone might have sent her a gift. What if it was a bomb? Didn’t they tick? Should she have told Natalie to fill the utility sink with water and submerge the box? Would it matter? The cowboys had all been army Rangers. Would they know?
Why would she even think it was a bomb? Paranoia about Stu?
She still had an hour before she had to be at Sabrina’s. Afterward, she could drive to her house and check the package.
Kiera grabbed her camera, looped it around her neck, and wandered toward the barn. She’d done internet searches at Frank’s after he’d left, picking up a very cursory knowledge of horses, cattle, and what went along with them. She didn’t want to look like a total idiot when she talked to the cowboys.
The horses were munching from feeding stations hooked to the fence. Their tails were in constant motion against flies. They wore halters, not bridles, when they were alone in the paddock.
The hands were nowhere to be seen, so she went into the barn. Frank and Bryce were working in the stalls. No point in taking pictures in here. No decent light, and a flash would be too harsh. Sounds from the room where they kept the horse treats said Tim or Derek—or both—were in there. The tack room, she recalled.
She wandered toward the stall where Frank was working. He paused, turned, and smiled. “Get done what you needed to do?”
“As much as I can until I talk to Derek. Do you have a minute? Something came up, and I want to ask your advice.”
“Soon as I finish here, sure.”
Using what looked like a leaf rake with curved tines, Frank dug into the bedding material in the stall and shook it. The bedding sifted down leaving ... manure, which Frank dropped into a round black tub in a wheelbarrow. Kiera wrinkled her nose. Something else she’d learned about horses. They produced a lot of manure.
As he worked, Frank explained what he was doing. “Once I get this cleaned out, I’ll spread fresh bedding, then take the manure to the spreader out back. Not the most pleasant of tasks. Not anything I’d consider photo-worthy. I’ll meet you by the mudroom door when I’m done. Should be almost time for breakfast by then.”
Once you got used to it, the smell wasn’t unpleasant, so Kiera stayed to watch Frank work. “You’re not afraid the lifting and twisting will rub your scrapes open?”
He paused, wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. He took off his long-sleeved blue work shirt, revealing a simple white cotton tee. And amazing biceps. He turned. “Any damage?”
She stepped closer. “Not that I can see.”
“Then I guess the answer would be no.”
Once he seemed satisfied he’d removed all the manure, he headed out of the stall. She trotted after him, hoping for something picture-worthy despite what Frank had said. Cowboys at work. She couldn’t focus on the pretty stuff. Their work included less pleasant aspects. Like manure.
She kept her distance, snapped a few images, then went to the mudroom. Frank came in a few minutes later, took off his mud boots, and washed his hands and face at the sink. He dried off, then faced her. “So, what did you want to ask me?”
“What do you know about bombs?”
~~
“BOMBS?” FRANK SAID, not sure he’d heard Kiera correctly over the running water.
“Yes,” she said. “You were in the army, so I thought you might have experience.”
More than he wanted to think about. “Why are you asking?”
She explained a package had shown up at her house. “It’s not like FedEx always drops things at the door like they’re supposed to. And it’s not like I’ve never had an unexpected, perfectly legitimate package show up. It wouldn’t be the first package with a smudged return address. Or even all three. Still, I have this nagging feeling Stu’s involved. If it had happened before Madelynn’s accident, or even before I’d been suspicious about Stu, I wouldn’t have given it a second thought. I was going to go home after I finished at Sabrina’s and look at the box myself. Do you think I’m being needlessly paranoid?”
Frank hung the towel on the rack. “I think you’re being reasonably cautious.”
“If there was a bomb in the package, how would I know?”
“You wouldn’t.” Frank said. “You want me to come with you?”
“Don’t you have mowing to do?”
“I’ll check with Derek, but as you said, there are more of us than there are mowers, and I could make up the time another day. Depending on how long you take with Sabrina, I’ll have at least another hour of work time.”
“You’re sure?” she asked. “It means driving to Highlands Ranch and back.”
“If Derek gives the green light, yes, I’m sure.”
“Thanks. I’ll text you when I’m finished at Sabrina’s.”
Frank gave a quick assessment of his clothes. He’d change into the clean backup he kept here. Didn’t want to dirty Kiera’s rental. But not until he found out what Derek expected him to do after breakfast.
Still no sign of Derek when Tanya called them all to the table. She pulled a platter of pancakes from the oven, set it down, and removed the foil covering from another pan on the stovetop. Sausage patties. A second pan held scrambled eggs.
“Butter and syrup are on the table. There’s fruit, too. Make it disappear,” Tanya said.
Bryce, Tim and Frank filled their plates. Kiera, he noted, had taken one pancake, one sausage patty, a tiny scoop of eggs, but a generous portion of fruit. She eyed his heaped plate with a quizzical look.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“Did you call your doctor?”
“Right after breakfast.”
Tanya came in with pitchers of juice. “Mr. Derek said he’s at Mr. Dosela’s ranch, arranging for mowing equipment. The kid from Mr. Randall’s ranch will be coming, too. He’s supposed to be learning about hay making.”
Frank poured syrup over his pancakes and drizzled more over his sausage. Bryce had mentored Grady, the first of Cecily’s project kids. Did that experience make him Derek’s choice, or would he give someone else the duty? Would he choose Frank, thinking it would be doing him a favor, the equivalent of desk duty after the mountain lion encounter?
If Derek wanted to give Frank a break, he’d let him have the afternoon off, and Frank would use the time to go with Kiera. Check out her mysterious package.
Too bad Charlie wasn’t an explosives detection dog.
Derek and Javi showed up while everyone was still eating, and joined them at the table. Derek made the introductions, although Javi seemed no more comfortable than he had the first time he’d been at the ranch.
“Where are you from, Javi?” Kiera asked.
“The Springs,” Javi said without raising his eyes from his plate.
“I’m from Highlands Ranch, near Denver. New York City, originally. I’ve only been on the Triple-D a couple of days,” Kiera said. “It’s quite a change from city life, isn’t it?”
A shrug.
Kiera seemed determined to draw more from the kid. Had she reconsidered doing a photo project with him? Last Frank recalled, she’d given up the idea.
“What’s the worst thing you have to do, working on a cattle ranch?” Kiera asked.
The tiniest hint of a smile played over Javi’s lips. “Shovel shit.”
Kiera laughed. “That would be mine, too. I’m lucky. I’m here for a different job, so I get to watch rather than shovel. Do you like riding horses?”
“’S okay, I guess.” Javi went back to eating.
Kiera abandoned her attempts at conversation. She hadn’t mentioned her photography, so maybe that’s all it had been. Attempts at conversation.
“You’ll have a break, then, Javi,” Frank said. “We’ve finished mucking the stalls for today.”
A grunt.
Breakfast finished, the table cleared, Frank approached Derek with his request to accompany Kiera to her place, giving him the nutshell version of her issues with Stu. “I’d feel more comfortable if she wasn’t alone. I’ll make up the time, or you can count it as unpaid time off.”
“Things aren’t that bad, Frank. Take the afternoon off and we’ll worry about the bookkeeping later.”
Frank wondered if Derek’s attitude toward bookkeeping was why the Triple-D was having financial issues. Kiera, he hoped, would straighten Derek out.
“I’m yours until Kiera is finished with her job at Sabrina’s,” Frank said. “Tell me what you want.”
“How’s your back?”
“Fine.”
Derek seemed to be considering options. “Weren’t you going to check the tracks to the county road?”
“If you can spare me doing ranch work,” Frank said.
“Do it.” Derek marched out the door, calling for Tim.
Frank assumed Tim would be keeping an eye on Javi. Good choice. Tim’s constant joking should get Javi to open up the way Kiera’s questions hadn’t. Not that it mattered. Javi was Phil Randall’s charge. The kid was here to learn about making hay.
Frank saddled Pumpkin, who showed no signs of remembering what he’d asked of her yesterday. Once they reached the point where he’d stopped tracking the day before, he dismounted and led the mare behind him.
About fifty yards farther along, he found trampled grass. And cow patties. He swung into the saddle and clucked Pumpkin into a trot.