Chapter Seven

Monty pulled up outside the main house on the Long Ranch, where Walt and his family lived. He’d lied to himself and said he went to Las Cruces to get an update on Mel’s case. To relieve himself of some guilt over his failure to act. Hell, even in Mexico, he hesitated just enough to allow the cops to get there. Instead, his hormones kicked in and all he wanted to do was wipe Harper’s desk clear and bury himself inside her. Thank God, she had the common sense to keep him under control.

The screen door creaked as he went through it, then snapped shut as if a new rubber band held it there. If Walt was running behind, he should still be eating his lunch and Monty could tell him what happened. Sadly, all he saw was Tina inspecting Quinton for anything out of the ordinary. The kid wasn’t even a year old and that made Tina nervous about the damage being done to the land and water aquifer.

“Hey Monty,” she said as she ran her hands along Quinton’s arms as if suddenly, he would be growing a third one out of his elbow or something. “I was wondering why you didn’t come in for lunch.”

“I went into Las Cruces.”

“That’s a haul. I’m surprised any of you would want to get behind a wheel after your trip to Mexico.”

“Things had to be taken care of and—well, did Walt say where he was working?”

“They’re at the north end of the property. About two dozen cows are missing. He’s using JT to help round ‘em up since he’s not leaving until tomorrow.”

“Guess I’ll ride out there,” Monty said. “Tina, a woman named Harper Maxwell might be stopping in before I get back here. She’s the prosecutor. I told her Walt could help if she needed it.”

“How could he help?” Tina asked.

“The people from Federated Gas are poking around her office a little too much. She thinks there’s something else to this whole thing.”

“I knew it!” Tina jumped up from the floor where she’d been playing with Quinton and ran into the room they used as an office. Her voice was distant as she called to him, “The guy who came over the other day from Federated left some reading material, but you know I wasn’t going to take that on face value.”

Quinton pulled himself up on Monty’s leg then held out his arms and babbled.

“I don’t talk to mumblers,” Monty said as he crossed his arms and looked that the kid who barely came to his knee. “Especially, those who drool and say it’s their teeth’s fault.” Quinton kept on babbling away until Monty couldn’t resist him any more and pulled him into his arms.

“Here it is,” Tina said as she rushed from the room with a stack of papers she’d printed off from various websites. “I’ve been tracking where their campaign contributions have been going. You know, they get so many little tax breaks and there were even three eminent domain cases where they paid pennies on the dollar to these homeowners.”

Monty looked over her research and saw a man in the background of a few pictures that he swore he’d seen before but couldn’t place.

“I don’t think Julio was trying to have Conrad expand his ranch, so they could say he poisoned the land.”

“You don’t?” Monty asked since that was the working theory they’d all been going on.

“Nope, I think they were trying to get the land condemned.” Tina took Quinton from Monty. “I know Walt thinks our land would be great for the solar field, but the Winston Ranch is flatter and adjacent to Federated’s land.”

“Who’s this?” Monty asked pointing to a guy whose picture was hanging in the office where Harper worked.

“The D.A. for…” Tina’s face dropped. “That’s why she’s coming here. He’s her boss.”

“And her ex-husband is standing right next to him.”

Harper was in more trouble than he expected. Taking a seat on the couch, he flipped through Tina’s research. For a save the planet, tree hugging hippie, Tina had created a carbon footprint that might have killed a few trees. “How is this related?” Monty asked as he found a dozen pages of crime statistics.

“Crime goes up, property value goes down. Especially, when they are violent ones.”

“I get that, but how do you know Federated has anything to do with it?”

“Not only are all of the offenders represented by the same law firm, but the same lawyer too. Seemed suspect to me. It could be crazy.”

“Could be.”

Instead of heading out to find Walter, Monty moved to the kitchen table and began sorting. Follow the money. That, he knew how to do. His degree was in finance. If he had access to the ranches funds they could shut down the whole cattle operation and live off his investments. Well, if the guys would trust him. He knew what he was doing, but the only vote he could count on would be Melody’s and they would never listen to her.

“Monny…Can I color?”

Walt’s four year old daughter Vanessa hadn’t mastered his name yet and he kinda liked the take on his name. He glanced over at her as she stood with three coloring books over flowing in her tiny arms with a box of crayons bigger than her head. She’d been coloring on the wood floor while watching her cartoons. When Monty looked out, he saw the sun was starting to set and her dad would be home soon. Had he really spent the whole afternoon reading and cataloging data?

“Leave your cousin alone,” Tina chided as she started to push Nessa out into the living room.

“She can stay,” Monty conceded as he stretched out in the chair and began rubbing his tight neck. “I probably would be less sore if I’d have ridden out with Walt.” He cleared off a space at the end of the table, then pulled out a chair.

Nessa plopped her coloring books on the open spot before pulling herself up on the chair. Balancing on her knees, she started coloring a princess. Nessa never stayed in the lines in general, except when it came to a princess’ hair that required unrestrained curls in her books.

Staring at the drawing reminded him that Harper hadn’t shown up yet. He didn’t have her phone number so he couldn’t check on her, but she should’ve been to the house hours ago.

Monty stepped outside and looked out on the road toward town. Maybe she’d been delayed in Las Cruces. He could call the office. That number he could get easily. Pulling out his cell phone, he did a quick search and called. The paralegal he’d met answered she told him that Harper had left not long after him. She would call her on her cell and get back to him.

An uneasy feeling circled in his belly. Maybe it was the crime reports, but something was itching at him. The paralegal couldn’t call him back fast enough. He took the steps two at a time, going down until he was in the dusty expanse that was the front of the house. Not quite a yard, but still where the kids played.

A small dust cloud on the road caught his attention, but it was just Melody. She waved as she pulled into the ranch before heading toward their childhood home where they both lived.

It was stupid, but he couldn’t stop himself. He started walking up the road as if that would make her suddenly appear. His phone rang, “You find her?”

“No,” Ashleigh said with the same worry in her voice. “I even tried that sheriff you have down there.”

“Rusty?”

“Yeah, he hasn’t seen or heard from her since she ordered him to go and guard Julio himself.” For a moment, Monty thought the woman had hung up until she started to speak again, “Monty…it is Monty right?”

“Yes.”

“Harper was having me pull up other inmates cases at the prison. She told me to make sure our boss didn’t find out what she was doing.”

The familiar chill ran down Monty’s spine. The one he’d been having way too damn often since this shit started. Everything was off just that little bit and it had him worried. Really worried. As the sun inched its way down on the horizon, he knew he needed to do more. This time he would, because if he didn’t, Harper would pay the price and in a few days of being around her, he gotten the feeling she’d paid enough in her lifetime.

 

* * * *

 

“Harper Jean, do I need to come and take care of you?” Harper’s mother asked. Sadly, this wasn’t an offer to make her comfort food and watch sad chick flicks to get her over her break-up. Six months ago, when Harper filed for divorce her mother sided with Dylan. This position hadn’t changed in the ensuing months. If nothing else, she’d put additional pressure on her to try and reconcile. No, this moment of perceived altruism was more about putting Harper back in line.

“Last I checked I’m not terminal—”

“Life decisions can be just as deadly as cancer.”

“I know…” Harper sighed as she finished packing a bag with a few days worth of clothes. “But I’m making better ones now.”

“Harper your life is almost as big of a mess as your hair. Dylan said you’re trying to make him jealous with another man. Some Mandingo buck from the way he tells it.”

“Who calls who in your sick and twisted relationship, mom?” Had it even been an hour since Dylan walked out of her office?

“He’s always been a very good son-in-law. Telling me how you were too driven in your career. I tried giving him advice, but I swear the way you ignored him in bed and at home, it’s no wonder he wandered. At least, he wasn’t falling in love with another person. He tried to be respectful to you, how can you not see that?”

Clenching her fists, Harper breathed in deeply. It was hard enough listening to the never-ending commentary running through her head. The last thing she needed today was her mother’s voice in reality “I’m stupid I guess. Now, my dumb ass is going to track down that buck.”

“Look, I know some girls go through the bad boy gangster phase. I hoped you wouldn’t, but it appears you’re wanting a bit of strange—”

“Mom, I’ve got to stop you right there, have you been misreading the urban dictionary? Watching BET without your translator? You know that leads to bad things. Really bad things.”

“Harper, who ever this man is, he is not good for you.”

“Mom you do know we have a black president now right?”

“Don’t start with me, this isn’t racial.”

“I wasn’t the one who described him as a Mandingo buck.”

Her mother stumbled over her words trying to hold her composure. “D-don’t throw your life away on a phase. Dylan isn’t going to stay around forever, pining for you. You know he’s got other options.”

“Oh, I know, and most of them I know not only their government name, but their next court date.”

“You do care,” her mother said.

Harper pulled the phone away to yell without making any noise. “No mom, I don’t,” she answered through gritted teeth. “How about you make me a deal? Don’t call my ex-husband anymore.”

“Will you give up on this phase of yours?”

“The cowboy?” Harper teased to add fuel to the fire. “I would, but he’s hitting spots Dylan didn’t even know existed in a woman. Gotta knock that out a few more times before I settle back down.”

“He’s a cowboy too? Dylan didn’t tell me that.”

“That’s because unlike Dylan, Montgomery takes his hat off when he enters a building.”

“Montgomery? Is he mixed or something?”

“Right, it’s not racial,” Harper sneered.

“A black cowboy. You might as well be dating a corner boy.”

“I should have never gotten Dad The Wire boxed set.”

There were times Harper wished she’d lucked out like Kennedy and found a good man. Her husband was a doctor, a job her mother accepted, white of course. Although, there was a question of a little native blood somewhere swirling around in him, but it was never discussed.

Harper got on the road and headed to Tender Root. Funny, she’d made the trip more in the last week than she had when the case was brought to her. She wasn’t letting the police bring the investigation to her, she was going after it and if even half of what she had that Ashleigh dug up was true, this was moving out of her jurisdiction.

Glancing at the time, she noticed she’d gotten a late start. It was almost four when she pulled into the edge of town and now, she would need to get directions to the Long Ranch. Pulling over in a parking lot of a local watering hole The Hard Root, she flipped through the file and entered the rural address in her GPS.

A shadow suddenly darkened her car and she turned to see a large man standing with his hands on the top of her car leaning down. His face was eye level with hers. Swallowing hard, her mind flipped like a rolodex with the mug shots from earlier in the day. Yahir Acosta, three charges, no convictions, all violent.

He didn’t say a thing. Instead, he stared at her, his jaw ticking.

Acid turned in her stomach as every warning signal went off in her head. His arms and neck were muscular and covered in tattoos. Not being one for gang affiliation, she didn’t know who or what he belonged to. Her fear was he belonged to Federated Gas in some twisted way.

“Destination is ten point six miles away,” the robotic voice of her GPS spoke making her turn away. When she looked back at the window, the man was gone. Shifting around in her seat, she tried to see where he’d gone to, but didn’t see him. Just a mix of cowboys and women going into the bar after a hard day’s work.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she closed her eyes to steady herself and pull out of the parking lot. The directions were simple and soon, she could see a metal archway with the words Long Ranch in the distance as she rounded a curve.

A jolt from behind sent her car straight over the ditch on the side of the road. With her hands locked on the steering wheel and her foot slamming on the brake, she flew about ten feet in the air before landing with a crash to the front of her car. Smoke slipped from under the hood that had arched up from the impact.

Arms shaking, she wasn’t ready to let go of the wheel until she saw the black pick-up truck with Yahir behind the wheel backing up the road then racing toward her. Her foot stomped on the gas as she tore off through the open range. Bouncing up and down in her seat as she tried to out run the man chasing her down, but her car was already damaged and had no chance when Yahir’s truck struck the bumper on the driver’s side. She spun three times before her car came to rest, letting out a sound that reminded her of a gust of air, this time releasing smoke from the engine.

Frantically, she tried to turn over her car only to get a ticking noise, not even an attempt to start.

Yahir got out of his truck and stomped over to where she was stalled. Taking off his t-shirt, he wrapped it around his fist before punching the glass out of her window.

Harper covered her head and prayed he wouldn’t touch her. Shards filled the seat around her and she could feel them falling around her neck and down her shirt. Bits cut into her skin and stung making her jerk back only to have the glass caught in her curls to cascade down over her face.

“Back off, bitch,” Yahir growled. “The man is dead, the case is closed.”

She curled tighter into a ball, this time accepting the stings, as they had to be better than what Yahir would dish out to her. At least in her car, she felt she had a shell of safety around her, even if she didn’t. With one strong tug, he could pull her through the window even with her seatbelt on. Nothing could protect her. Nothing. In this moment, she could see death coming at her fast as she tried to catch her breath and came up gasping while the world went black.