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Chapter 9

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Cecily propped the mudroom door open and brought in the first of her boxes. “Derek? It’s me. Bearing gifts.”

“Kitchen.”

The way he snapped out the word reinforced Cecily’s fear that something was wrong. She crossed through the mudroom and set the carton on the kitchen counter. Derek stood at the wall phone, dragging his fingers through his hair. “Thanks,” he said and clunked the handset onto the hook.

“Bad news?” she asked.

“Not sure.” He strode over and peered into the box. “What’s this?”

She guessed Sabrina hadn’t mentioned last night’s cooking project, so she explained what she’d done. “One less thing for you to deal with. I’ll put all this away. You don’t have to do a thing.” She opened the freezer and rearranged the contents so she could put all of her additions in one convenient place.

Derek muttered something she didn’t catch and left the room. So much for gratitude. “You’re welcome,” she called after him. A door slammed.

Once she had the perishables put away, she debated hunting Derek down. If there was something wrong and it involved Grady, she needed to know about it. She made her way down the hall toward Derek’s study. She paused at the door, took a breath, and knocked. Whether whatever had upset him related to Grady, or the ranch, or Derek himself, he was family, and family stuck together.

“It’s open,” Derek said.

She eased the door ajar and poked her head into the room. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Dead steer.” He clicked computer keys, not quite ignoring her, but not inviting her into the room or giving her an explanation.

Okay, nobody liked losing an animal, but it happened. She could see him getting upset about a breeding bull, which had a lot more income-producing potential than a single steer. Or a pregnant cow. The loss of a single animal shouldn’t have him this distressed.

She stepped to the sofa and sat. “Explain. I grew up here, remember. I do have a handle on the ranching business. How did the steer die, and why is it so important?”

Derek shoved away from the desk. “Because someone managed to get onto the ranch and kill it. Brutally. Left it there, so it wasn’t like he needed the meat.”

Anger washed over her. “That’s terrible. Who would do that? And why?”

“You think I haven’t been asking myself the same thing? I’ve called the local ranchers, but nobody else has lost any livestock.”

“You think it might be personal?” she asked.

“I have no idea. It might be a one-off, or I’m the first victim of some new kind of vandalism. Everyone’s going to be watching, but there’s no way anyone can monitor entire herds of cattle.”

“You called the Sheriff’s Department, right?”

He glared at her as though she were three years old again. “Of course I did. They haven’t had any reports of anything suspicious. They’ll try to up patrols, but they’re not going to wander through the pastures at night.”

“You said the vandal left the steer. Did you ask for a detective to come out?” She thought of Andy, felt her face warm. “I know one who’d enjoy the change of pace.”

Of course, at that moment, Bryce slipped into the study, Grady at his heels.

Even if he’d noticed her blush, Bryce couldn’t read her thoughts, she reminded herself. His subliminal communication skills were restricted to animals, weren’t they? She turned and gave him a polite nod.

His was equally polite.

Derek turned his attention to Bryce. “What did you and Frank find?”

“Me? Not much. Sherlock said he found boot prints and some blood on nearby branches.”

Grady looked puzzled. And a bit wobbly on his feet.

“Sherlock’s what they called Frank in the Rangers,” Cecily said. She moved over, inviting him to sit.

He did, half-collapsing onto the leather.

“You okay?” she asked.

He nodded, but kept his gaze lowered.

“He was with me when we found the steer,” Derek said. “It was ... brutal.”

Cecily felt Grady shudder beside her. From the faint whiff of vomit, she knew seeing the steer had sickened him. She resisted the urge to put her arm around him, tell him not to be ashamed, but knew his teenage ego had taken enough of a beating already.

“You think you can convince your detective friend to come out and take a look before any evidence is lost?” Derek asked. “At least to get a report filed.”

Bryce lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

“I’ll call him right now,” she said. She got up and headed for the privacy of the kitchen where she could make the call without feeling like she was betraying Bryce. Which was stupid, because first, she and Bryce had never made even the slightest hint at commitment, and second, all she’d done was have lunch—Dutch—with a coworker.

“Grady, why don’t you come with me? I’ve got some things for you.” She wasn’t sure how well food offerings would go over given the way he looked, but if Bryce and Derek were going to be talking about what happened, Grady didn’t need to be reminded of what he’d seen.

She put him to work sorting through the non-perishables for things he’d like handy in his quarters. “The rest we can store here, but these are all things you can feel free to help yourself to. I tried to guess what you’d like, so if you have anything else you want, let me know, and I’ll get them the next time I’m shopping.” She showed him the section of the freezer she’d stocked. “Instructions for reheating are in all the packages. I know your little fridge doesn’t have much in the way of freezer space, but you can take one or two at a time.”

His color had returned, and from the way he eyed a package of chocolate chip cookies, she knew he felt better. “Help yourself,” she said.

He settled down with a glass of milk and the open package of cookies while she called Andy and explained the situation with the dead steer. “I know it’s not CSI, but a crime scene is a crime scene, right?”

Andy promised to be over as soon as he finished some paperwork. “Should be enough daylight left to see what you’ve got. I enjoyed our lunch.”

“Um ... me, too. I’ll be at the ranch house. One of the hands will show you where they found evidence.” She’d ask Frank to do it. First, he had more experience in reading scenes, and second, she didn’t like the idea of Bryce and Andy together.

Bryce ambled into the kitchen. Damn Derek’s rule about no work boots in the house. She hadn’t heard him. At least she was off the phone with Andy.

There was nothing for her to feel guilty about, so why did she?

Bryce snagged a cookie. “C’mon, Grady. The guys are back. They’ll put the horses in the paddock for now, but you can help haul tack and make sure there’s food in the stalls.”

Grady took one more cookie, washed it down with the rest of his milk, and put the glass in the dishwasher. Good for him. He didn’t seem excited about helping, but he hadn’t complained.

“I can bring all this to your quarters,” she said, pointing at his selections.

He spun to face her. “No!” He paused, his expression returning to neutral. “I mean, thanks anyway, but I’ll do it.”

She let him go. Had he left his quarters in a typical teenage boy mess? Hoarding girlie magazines? Or was there something more?

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Keeping an eye on Grady, Bryce helped everyone unload the horses. The kid accepted his task as he’d done all the others. Uncomplaining, but with no enthusiasm. He didn’t approach the horses, but rather waited until Bryce stepped forward and handed him the tack. After each of Grady’s trips to the tack room and back, Bryce shortened the distance between them. Whether Grady realized it or not, he’d been manipulated until he was less than three feet away from Shadow when Bryce took off her saddle and bridle. Bryce didn’t point it out, merely filed it away as progress.

When Grady took the last of the tack to the barn, Bryce wondered why the kid had responded so vehemently to Cecily’s offer to take the food to his quarters, but he wasn’t going to press the matter. He added it to his something’s not quite right list of observations.

“The boss wants us for a quick meetup before we go home,” Bryce said as he and the rest of the hands moved the horses into the paddock. He headed to the barn to make sure Grady had done everything he’d been assigned.

The stalls looked perfect, the feed was set out properly. The tack room was organized. It was as if Grady was trying to make up for losing it when they’d found the steer. “Good job. You’re free to go.”

Grady spun for the door, then turned. “What time tomorrow?”

“I’ll have Derek let you know.”

With a nod, the boy fished the Gator keys from his pocket and dashed out of the barn as if a grizzly was on his tail.

Something’s still off.

Mulling over his concerns about Grady, and whether they were valid or simply based on his own misgivings about being saddled with the kid, Bryce went into the ranch house’s mud room. After shucking boots and washing hands, the men gathered around the dining room table, Derek at his usual place at the head. Cecily sat to his right, Frank at his left. Wondering why she was sitting in on a ranch meeting, Bryce chose a seat at the far end, on the other side. Tim filled in the seat next to Cecily, shooting Bryce a look that asked if everything was all right.

Bryce hiked a shoulder.

“I’ll keep this short.” Derek recapped what he’d learned from the rancher grapevine—which was nothing. Frank reported what he’d found.

“A detective from the Sheriff’s Department will be here soon,” Derek said. “Frank, I’d appreciate it if you’d take point with this one. Show him what you found. You have pictures?”

Frank nodded and held up his cell phone.

Derek gazed from one man to the next. “Does anyone have any idea why this might have happened? From what I saw, whoever killed the steer used a knife to cut it up.”

“Did he kill it with the knife?” Tim asked. “Seems like that would be a tough way to do it. Shooting it, or clubbing it first, then mutilating it makes more sense.” He pulled out his cell phone and tapped commands into the screen.

“I’m no forensic pathologist,” Frank said. “With the flies and gore, I wasn’t about to try. I’m happy to turn things over to the detective.”

Tim gave a low whistle. “Hey, guys, it’s aliens.”

“What?” Bryce said.

Tim held up his phone. “I just Googled ‘Colorado cattle mutilations’ and there are a kazillion hits. Unexplained mutilations, and a lot are saying it’s aliens being responsible.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready to buy into that one,” Frank said. “I’d prefer a more down to earth explanation.”

Tim laughed. “Down to earth. Good one, Sherlock.”

“Meanwhile, we’ll wait and see what the detective has to say,” Derek said.

“Detectives don’t do the analysis,” Cecily said. “I’m not sure what the procedure is when it’s a steer. I know Andy will do whatever he can.”

So it was Andy. Bryce toyed with his rubber bands. Why was he letting this get to him? She and Andy worked together. Of course she’d call him by his first name.

“May I change the subject for a moment?” Cecily asked.

Derek glanced around the table again. “Anyone have any other input on the steer?”

Head shakes and negatives.

“Be ready to ride out at oh six-hundred,” Derek said. “I want to cover as much of the ranch as possible, make sure there are no more surprises.”

“Can’t think of any way to prevent another killing short of rounding up all the cattle and riding guard all night,” Bryce said.

“I’m not ready for that.” Derek turned toward Cecily. “What was it you wanted to say?”

She smiled at each of the cowboys. Bryce got the feeling the one she flashed him was a few degrees cooler than the others. Damn it all, he still reacted. How could he be fed up with her and turned on at the same time? He was going to have to have a long talk with his below-the-belt friend. Maybe while taking a cold shower.

“It’s about Grady,” she said. “He’s the first in the program, and I wanted to get your impressions of how he’s working out.” She gave Bryce a slightly warmer smile than the first one. “I know he’s been assigned to Bryce for most of his training, but ranch work is a team effort. I’d like everyone’s input. There’s paperwork—” an apologetic smile at Bryce— “which is required by the grant, but I can get much more if I hear from everyone.”

“I can’t offer much,” Frank said. “Doesn’t seem to have much love for horses, but Bryce should be able to take care of that.”

“Seems fine to me, based on this afternoon,” Tim said. He pressed his palms against the table.

“If you want to go, Tim you’re free,” Derek said.

Tim stood. “Thanks, D-Man. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

From the grin on Tim’s face, Bryce assumed there was a woman involved.

Moments later, Charlie’s barking from outside had everyone at attention. A car door closed, followed by a knock on the door.

“That’ll be Andy,” Cecily said. “I’ll let him in.”

Was she blushing? What did it mean? What did it matter? Bryce gave himself another mental slap. But when Frank pushed away from the table telling Cecily he’d go with her, Bryce followed.

This is stupid. You need to sit down with Cecily. Clear the air. Find out where things stand.

“Hang on a minute, Bryce,” Derek called. “Frank can show the detective the scene. I want to talk to you.”

Derek’s words were civilian, but his tone was military. Old reflexes died hard, and Bryce halted. Turned. Straightened his back. Waited.

Derek laughed. “Sit. It’s about Grady. I had a chance to ride with him. Talk to him—one-sided for the most part. Reminds me of someone else I know.”

Bryce ignored Derek’s attempt at levity, but took a seat. Half his mind was preoccupied with Cecily and Andy.

Definitely needed a sit down with Cecily.

Derek went on. “I have to agree with your assessment. Nothing I can put my finger on, but he does seem to have a wall around him. I tried to ask him about his experiences in the Springs. He clammed up, but I picked up a vibe of fear along with the typical teenager-adult dynamic. Has he said anything to you?”

Bryce shook his head. “Been keeping my distance. Helped him spread the manure after he mucked the stalls this morning, but we didn’t chat. He likes being on his own. I leave him be.”

“You think he’ll be able to work cattle?” Derek asked.

“If you want him to sit a horse, I’ll teach him,” Bryce said. “It’s not fair to the horse to stick him on one before he’s ready.”

“I trust your judgment. We’ve got plenty of other chores he can do.”

“How’s the baler? Kid likes vehicles. He might be good at tinkering with them.” He tugged his hair. “Assuming Sabrina don’t mind.”

Derek laughed. “Her automotive skills are excellent, but she’d rather be cooking, so I don’t think she’ll be offended.” He steepled his fingers. “Give it to me straight. Cecily’s program is set up for one-on-one mentoring until the participants have the requisite skills for diversifying. Grady doesn’t know the details. I can switch him to Tim.”

Derek had offered Bryce his ticket out. So why wasn’t he jumping on it?