THURSDAY, 5:17 A.M.
EMERALD M GUEST RANCH
Finally. Heath steered toward the arch carved out of one solid piece of pine. The words Emerald M Ranch burned into the wood had never been so welcoming. While an expected sense of rightness would normally settle over him, dread rose up, preventing it. The despair he’d driven away by renovating the place, and that he’d kept at bay for so long, was closing in on his world again.
Still, he welcomed the sight of his home—his ranch—as it came into view.
Dawn peeked over the mountains as Heath steered his truck toward the arch. At least he would soon be liberated from the longest drive of his life.
Evelyn and Harper had both remained silent on the drive from Jackson, where they had both left a loved one behind. Eventually, Evelyn started softly snoring in the back seat. The woman needed her rest, then she would go back to the hospital to be there for Leroy. Her son wasn’t the only person Heath was worried about. Even though Leroy was in the ICU, Heath couldn’t help himself—he was more worried about Harper at this moment. She stared out the window and he suspected she still had that glazed-over look. She wasn’t connecting.
He knew she would pull herself together, but her words kept replaying in his mind.
“They won’t let me see my sister.”
As soon as they got settled at the main house, he would call Moffett or Taggart. This was all some kind of crazy.
One problem after another. He squeezed the steering wheel. There was no way Harper sent that truck and camper over the cliff. The so-called witness was wrong. Or lying. Had they thought of that?
He slowly approached the arch, intending to drive through, only to be stopped by law enforcement. Wyoming Highway Patrol—the de facto state police. He had better allow Heath onto his ranch.
He jumped out of the truck. “Hi. How are you doing?”
“Sir, no one’s allowed on the premises. It’s a crime scene.”
“I’m Heath McKade, proprietor of these premises. Last I knew, only one cabin had exploded. I hadn’t realized they had concluded it was an actual bomb or that the main house was also deemed a crime scene. I need to get home.”
“I’m not saying it was a bomb. Let’s see your driver’s license. I have to vet everyone, you understand.”
Heath pulled out his wallet and flipped it open to reveal his Wyoming driver’s license and sheriff’s department credentials.
“So you’re with the state,” Heath said. It was a statement and not a question. He hoped the man would elaborate.
“Yes, sir. And you’re a deputy. I’m Lester Vernon, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you. Have they figured out anything? What happened? Who’s responsible?”
“I’m only the grunt called in to keep the vermin out of the fortress.”
Heath cocked a brow as he looked at the ladies watching from the cab of his truck. “You do realize that three million acres of wilderness and national forest surround this ranch. If someone wanted in, they probably wouldn’t come through the front gate.”
Vernon half grinned. “I’ll agree, it’s a problem. Who’s in the truck with you?”
“Evelyn Miller and Harper Reynolds. They’re staying at the main house with me.”
“Are you sure you want to stay here, considering the suspicious activity?”
He rubbed his chin. “No. I’m not entirely sure, but it’s been a long night, and looks to be an even longer day.”
“I understand. Go ahead and pass.”
Heath climbed back in to face two sets of wide eyes staring back at him.
“What’s happening?” Evelyn asked.
“Nothing to worry about. They don’t want anyone here who shouldn’t be here.” The sheriff didn’t have the resources for this and the state would assist in processing the cabin. He would think Taggart would let him know what was going on, call him in to work even, except it was his ranch, so he probably needed to remain hands-off. Who knew who else would show up? The bomb squad out of Cody? The ATF—the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives? This could turn into a twisted tangle of law enforcement barbed wire at his ranch.
Heath glanced at Harper, who watched Vernon as Heath steered by him. Was she having second thoughts about staying here? He wished he could have shown her the renovated Emerald M before all the ugliness had stolen its beauty. A lot of photographers stayed at the Emerald M for all the splendor of nature they could catch on camera. He had a feeling she would have loved the place. Except, well, she had already gotten her fill of nature, he supposed, and a big heaping dose of violence to soil the beauty.
As he neared the main house, the truck tires crunched over the gravel drive. His rustic-looking two-story log cabin came into view. When Harper had seen it as a kid, the wraparound porch hadn’t actually wrapped all the way around. Heath had added on quite a bit. Would she remember what the old house had looked like—before and after the fire that had taken his mother? Beyond the cabin was the pasture and horse barn, and a small lake for the guests to fish if they didn’t want to hike into the wilderness and fish on one of the many rivers and streams in the Gros Ventre Wilderness. A measure of pride swelled. He wanted her to see and appreciate what he’d done.
County and state vehicles came into view deeper in the woods near the destroyed cabin. Their presence disfigured his haven. Heath’s stomach sickened at the sight of the blackened foliage. The cabin—or what was left of it—was just out of his line of sight.
Thank goodness none of his guests had been hurt. Bad enough Leroy had been injured.
He didn’t get it. Who had done this and why? The fact that he even asked the question told him that, deep inside, he leaned toward agreeing with the fire chief that the explosion was a deliberate act of violence against his ranch. Against him.
He parked the truck, turned off the ignition, and then climbed out to assist Evelyn. She was strong, but he was worried about her current state of mind and the fact that she was exhausted. He eased her out.
She patted his arm. “You’re treating me like an old lady, Heath.” She chuckled. “But thank you. You’ve always been a gentleman.”
“All in a day’s work,” he said.
She leaned closer and whispered, “I’ll show Harper to one of the guest rooms, Heath. Then you can show her around the place so she can make herself at home.”
“Sounds good. I’ll take you back up to the hospital when you’re ready.”
“I can see you’re eager to find out what’s going on. So as soon as you can, you go talk to the sheriff. Whoever you can find. Maybe it’s time for you to put on your deputy uniform.”
Harper came around Heath’s truck, hugging herself, her golden eyes wide.
She still wore the sweats and hoodie she’d been in when he’d answered her call for help last night. They were dirty and torn. He still needed to discuss what she planned to do. But he had a better idea. He would talk to Taggart and end this nonsense. She wasn’t a criminal.
He offered a soft grin for her sake, though anger boiled inside at what had happened to his ranch. What was still happening to Harper.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “Go with Evelyn. Get some rest. We have plenty of room. She can find you some clean clothes too. I’ll show you the renovations as soon as you’re ready.”
“I can’t thank you enough”—Harper looked at Evelyn then too—“both of you, for your generosity.”
“Think nothing of it.” Evelyn, gracious woman that she was, draped her arm around Harper and guided her onto the wraparound porch and into the house.
God had smiled down on him the day he’d hired Evelyn. She’d been the voice of wisdom and could cook the meanest lasagna. He left the house behind him and marched toward what looked like too much chaos here on his property.
The peace and serenity were ruined. Destroyed. Who would have believed this could ever happen here? He spotted Taggart and hiked over to the sheriff.
Heath had to approach this right if he wanted to stay on Taggart’s good side to get information about what was going on here and also defend Harper.
“Hey, Taggart.” Heath crossed his arms and looked at what was left of the cabin. A man and woman walked around with gloved hands and evidence bags, taking photographs. “What do we know?”
Taggart gestured to the two people searching through the remains of the cabin. “We know the fire chief cleared the cabin for the state to come in. Other agencies are undecided if their involvement is required. I’ll keep my hands in it no matter what. This is my county and my people.” He didn’t say more for a while. Heath waited, understanding Taggart liked time to process what he would say next. Heath wasn’t disappointed.
“I thought it was those kids,” Taggart said. “The mailboxes.”
“You’re thinking this definitely was a bomb.”
“What else could have happened? My gut tells me the mailboxes and this explosion weren’t done by the same person. But I can’t figure out why someone would bomb your ranch. Target a specific cabin. We’ll need to get information on who had planned to stay there. See if they were the specific target. Seems like there’d be an easier way to take someone out. Other than targeting a guest, do you have any ideas?”
“You know I don’t.”
“I’m not sure you should even stay here at the ranch until this is resolved.”
“That could take a long time. I need to rebuild the cabin. Clean up. Rebuild the Emerald M’s reputation. I’ll have to put the horses somewhere else too. I’m losing money every day someone isn’t renting those cabins.” He took a step toward the charred debris.
Taggart pulled him back. “I need your help, Heath.”
Acid burned in his gut. “When you convinced me to sign on as a reserve deputy, this wasn’t what I thought I’d be doing.”
“Trust me. This isn’t what I had in mind when I agreed to be sheriff. We don’t get to pick and choose. That said, I know you didn’t mean it that way. I can understand you’re a little uncertain after what you’ve been through—but it’s because of what you’ve been through that you understand we need more people like you. So get your act together. I’m not saying I want you on this bomb thing. Actually, it would be best if you stayed out of the way where it concerns your ranch. For all I know, the state or feds could end up turning the tables on you. Say you were responsible. You needed the insurance. Took the mailbox bombing idea and ran with it.”
Heath’s stomach clenched. Twisted into a knot he’d never untangle.
He thought of Harper—the anguish she must have felt when the detective suspected her. “You can’t be serious.”
“Anything’s possible at this moment.”
“Me. A suspect.” He ground his molars. “I have put everything into this ranch. Why would I destroy even one cabin? Destroy the reputation I’ve fought to build? What do you think, Taggart? I want to hear what you truly think about me.”
“We both know that anything is possible. That said, I don’t believe you had anything to do with it or I wouldn’t be telling you I need your help—get your deputy uniform on and let’s go to work.”
“And what about Harper? Do you think she tried to kill her sister last night? That she would be so crazy that she would try to kill them both by driving off a cliff?”
“Look, Heath. It doesn’t matter what I think. The facts are what matters. If she’s innocent, we’ll know soon enough.” A sheriff’s department vehicle steered through the entryway.
Heath tore his gaze from the charred remains of the cabin and watched the vehicle. It turned away and headed for the main house.
His jaw dropped. Before he thought to close it, he looked at Taggart and realization dawned. Someone had informed Taggart that Harper had left the hospital and was with Heath. They would take her in for questioning, or worse, like she feared—arrest her.
At least Taggart understood he couldn’t ask Heath to do that. He’d flat out refuse.
He wanted to throttle Taggart right then and there.
“She’s the victim in this!”