Tom joined me. “You look pretty cheerful for somebody who could’ve been run over. I know. Worth it because you got interesting points from Kesler.”
“I did, but I need to think it through—”
“Think on the way to lunch.” He walked beside me toward my SUV. “If you check your phone you’ll see messages from the others that we’re supposed to meet at Hamburger Heaven.”
We occasionally used the back room in that bastion of haute cuisine, thanks to Mike being both a local hero from his football playing days and their best customer.
“Perfect.”
* * * *
On our way to Hamburger Heaven in our own vehicles, I thought of what I should have asked Tom. Then I thought how I should introduce it — probably from Diana’s influence.
So, after we all were seated in Hamburger Heaven’s back room with our late lunches and had brought each other up to date, I turned to Tom.
“That was a good idea asking Kesler to help with the fence. Did you ask him about the case?”
“I didn’t ask him to come and I didn’t ask questions. We were building fence.”
“You didn’t ask him to come? But you said you’d make calls and there he was—”
“Clyde called him. To supervise.”
“Why?”
His eyebrows rose. “Because he’s Clyde’s dad.”
“Kesler is Clyde’s father?”
I remembered his “Like who?” when I said he should answer my questions to be sure the wrong person didn’t get charged.
“Yep. Just like some of those boys that helped are Clyde’s nephews.”
“Boys? The Baranski boys are related to Clyde? Kesler, too?”
“Sure. They’re all Baranskis.”
I looked around to include the others. “Why didn’t you tell me they were related?”
Tom raised both hands in partial surrender. “Didn’t occur to me.”
“If we mentioned every time someone was related to someone else and how many ways, nothing else would ever get said,” Mike said.
“Why are you so surprised?” Diana asked.
“Because Kesler works at Lukasik Ranch, where York was foreman, the man strongly implicated in rustling Clyde’s cattle.”
Tom protested, “You can’t think Kesler had anything to do with that.”
“With rustling Clyde’s cattle? Probably not. But what about if he suspected York was behind the rustling that hit Clyde? Did he know about that check Clyde wrote?”
Tom didn’t look happy, but he nodded. “Knew at the time. Told York to keep away from his family. He also gave Clyde hell. But that was seven months ago, like I said before. For it to spark now doesn’t seem likely.”
At some level I realized he expected me to argue with him. But my thoughts had taken a turn.
I faced Tom. “You said Clyde said your cattle were mixed in with Lukasik’s brand. And you saw that, too?”
“Yeah.”
“If Lukasik came to his ranch and saw another brand mixed in with his — he’s not a rancher like you guys, but surely he knows his own brand—”
“He does,” Tom said grimly.
“—he’d spot the brand that didn’t fit. He’d have to know something was wrong. Could Lukasik—”
“Might think it was cattle they’d bought and hadn’t rebranded,” Tom said.
“—be in on the rustling? Or could York be stealing from him, too?”
“If York knew when Lukasik was coming to the ranch, he could move head around…” Mike shook his head at his own words. “Risky if Lukasik isn’t in on it. Kesler and Gable, too, along with other hands.”
“Wait. Wait.” I raised my hand and dropped my head, eyes closed, the better to remember. Not only words. Those came easy. But intonation, body language, expressions. I raised my head, then opened my eyes and lowered my hand. “Lukasik talked about how his herd kept staying the same size, not growing as he’d expect based on births and sales. Remember? It frustrated him the herd didn’t grow. Kesler was edgy about that today, too.
“But why did it stay even? Only because York was lazy and a lousy cattleman or a more direct reason? Say he was selling those mismatched calves for his own profit or using them to keep the numbers of Lukasik’s herd from actually dropping while he sold Lukasik cattle.”
Tom stared at me a beat. “He’d make more money the second way — selling older, bigger cattle for more money, then replacing them with calves. Calves stolen from other ranchers.” He thunked one palm on the table. “It’s time to visit some feedlots on the other side of the Missouri River.”
“I’m going with you,” Mike said.
“Me, too,” I said. “I want—”
“No.” That came from Tom, Mike, and Diana.
Diana was the one who continued. “The people they’ll want to see are not the kind to mess with, Elizabeth. Notice I’m not volunteering to go. Yes, I know you’ve dealt with hard people. But in this case you’d raise their suspicions the instant they saw you. You’d stick out like a sore thumb.”
“I can dress like—”
“It’s not just cowboy boots and hat. It’s a way of moving, of talking — heck, it’s a way of looking at the cattle. They’d know you weren’t right. And that makes it more dangerous. For all of you.”
I could pull it off. I knew I could. And I wanted to be there. To—
“Now you know how I feel when you guys tell me I can’t do things,” Jennifer said.
That stopped me. For two reasons. When we said no to Jennifer, it was our best judgment it was a bad idea. Shouldn’t I accept their best judgment?
Also, because I trusted Jennifer using her computer expertise to get us information without joining her keystroke by keystroke. Shouldn’t I respect the others’ areas of expertise?
“You’re right, Jennifer. I do know how it feels.” Her hopefulness crashed with my next words. “And that’s why I’m not going. They know what they’re doing and I wouldn’t.” I looked from Tom to Mike. “But you two better bring back a word-for-word report, not missing a syllable, not overlooking a nuance.”
“Yes’m,” they both said, with not-quite-suppressed grins.
“And if you can get anything on Furman York formerly bringing cattle with the Lukasik Ranch’s brand, but on his most recent trip he didn’t, that would be a nice, big, fat, red arrow pointing to Norman Clay Lukasik.”
“Ah. Because it would mean Lukasik caught him,” Diana said.
“Exactly. That ramps up Lukasik’s motive. It still could work that York rustled Lukasik’s cattle and Lukasik found out after Furman York’s most recent sale of stolen cattle. Or that Lukasik knew York was rustling, but didn’t confront him, possibly waiting to plan a permanent solution. But if York had been regularly selling Lukasik’s cattle, then stopped, that would be—”
“Big, fat, red arrow. Got it.” Mike turned to Tom. “I can drive. Whenever you’re ready to leave as long as I can throw some things together.”
“I’ve got chores to take care of before we go,” Tom said. “It’s not a quick trip and Tamantha—”
I raised my hand. “If you don’t leave her with me, my mother will hunt us both down.”
He quirked a grin. “Tamantha might join her in the hunt. But your guest room’s occupied.”
“There’s a sofa bed in the sitting area of the master suite.”
“It’s real comfortable,” Jennifer attested.
“There. All settled. How long a trip is it?” I asked.
“Ten hours or so,” Mike said.
“Ten hours? One way? It’ll take twenty hours just to get there and back? And then checking all the livestock markets? You guys won’t be back for days.”
“There aren’t a whole lot of likely markets. I’ll make some calls, narrow it down.” Tom asked Mike, “Leaving in four hours work for you?”
“Sure.” He then turned to me. “That’s enough time to go see that bartender, catch him before happy hour. I bet the Pickled Cow has a great one.”
“I’m still absorbing that it’s a ten-hour drive. If you leave in four hours, you’ll have to stay overnight somewhere and—”
“Nah. We’ll swap off and drive all night. Get there in time to start in the morning.”
“You’ve just made me happy to not be going. Let’s go see the bartender.”
Tom said, “You still have those clothes in the back of your SUV from horseback riding?”
On our recent picnic date, after riding, I’d changed out of old jeans, shirt, jacket, and new roper boots into fresh jeans, shirt, jacket, and shoes. I hadn’t yet acquired a fancy for eau d’ horse after dismounting. The horsey clothes were all in a tightly zippered tote.
“Yeah.” He was monitoring my laundry schedule?
“Put those on before you go in the Pickled Cow.”