Cowboy Up

by Stacy Finz

  He made a point of staring out the window at her car. “It’s not just complicated, it’s criminal. What would’ve happened if you’d broken down on one of the isolated roads around here in the dark because some asshole decided to put water in your gas tank?”

  She got the distinct impression he was thinking of one of his San Francisco cases and wanted to remind him that this was Dry Creek they were talking about. “It’s a safe town, Cash; not a lot of crime here.”

  “Tell that to the Bealses. They just lost two hundred head of cattle in this safe town. What if your car had broken down and the thieves had come upon you? What if they’d been worried about having witnesses who’d seen their faces and could identify them? You ever think of that?”

  “First of all, I wasn’t aware that anyone had stolen the Bealses’ cows, and second of all, this isn’t the city.”

  “Crime happens everywhere, Aubrey, even in seemingly safe havens like national parks.”

  She had no idea why national parks had been thrown into the conversation. Last she looked, Dry Creek was a Gold Country ranching town. She assumed he was referencing the horrible serial killings in the Presidio that had been splashed all over the news last summer and made a mental note to research who the investigators were on that case.

  “All I’m saying is, this stupid rumor about you and Jace has gotten way out of hand and it’s time to put a stop to it. Jace obviously can’t get involved outside the confines of the law because of his position. But I sure the hell can…and will. Before I do, it would certainly help to know the background.”

  Aubrey shook her head. “A little high-handed of you, don’t you think? Is this because we slept together?”

  “What?” he asked, confused. “What does one thing have to do with the other?”

  “This is not your problem to solve and yet here you are, riding in on your white charger.” She turned the bacon over and started the eggs to give him time to think about that. She’d asked him to fix her car, not her life.

  “Jace is my cousin,” he said weakly, because both of them knew Jace could take care of himself.

  “What’s going on with Mitch is tricky.” She went up on tiptoes and kissed Cash on the lips. His desire to protect her was appreciated, but not necessary. She could do that herself. “I’m handling it the best way I know how. But thank you.”

  He rested his forehead against hers. “Just tell me what’s going on. I was a federal agent. I know how to keep a secret.”

  She moved away before the eggs burned and served them on a plate. “Eat and I’ll think about it.” What would be the harm, other than breaking a promise to Jill? And given that Jill had cheated with Aubrey’s fiancé, she wasn’t exactly in a position to complain if Aubrey did anyway.

  Aubrey brought the bacon to the table and sat while Cash ate. He’d worked up quite an appetite, because he was shoveling in the eggs like he hadn’t had a meal in a week.

  He stopped chewing when he caught her watching. “You want some?”

  “Nope, they’re all yours. Bon appétit.” She pushed the bacon closer so he wouldn’t eat the plate. “When were the Bealses’ cattle stolen?” Aubrey was still digesting that. Cattle rustling had become a problem in California since the recession, but this was the first time she’d heard of someone in Dry Creek being victimized.

  “The other night. Jace says they cut the fence and loaded the livestock into trailers with all-terrain vehicles.”

  “Wow, that sucks.”

  “Yep.” He reached for a strip of bacon and looked at her before taking a bite. “Be careful when you’re driving around these backroads alone.”

  She only drove the backroads when she had a client to visit, and because she was currently clientless, she had nowhere to go. “You too,” she said.

  He stopped eating long enough to raise his brows at her. Typical man. Nah, nothing about Cash was typical. Especially his bedroom performance.

  Cash stared at her chest, as if he’d been reading her mind. “Your shirt is inside out.”

  She looked down, saw the seams of her camisole, and laughed. Then, for fun, whipped it off in front of him and turned it right side in.

  “Feel free to leave it off.” His eyes stayed pinned on her breasts. “It’s hot out.”

  And it was getting hotter by the minute. She slipped the top back on and righted it to cover any spare parts.

  He shrugged, then winked. “Suit yourself.”

  “Who knew you were such a flirt?”

  “Who knew?” he said, then suddenly turned serious. “Uh, hey, for Ellie’s sake, I’d like to keep this discreet. The party’s fine as long as we’re subtle about it. But after the conversation Ellie and I had about her mom, I wouldn’t want her to get the wrong impression.”

  “What impression would that be?”

  “You know…that I’m a player.”

  The comment rubbed Aubrey the wrong way. Why, she couldn’t exactly pinpoint. It wasn’t like their morning romp had filled her with expectations. She wasn’t even interested in having a boyfriend; not so soon after her failed engagement. And obviously he wouldn’t want his twelve-year-old to know he was having monkey sex with the woman next door.

  But still, his words had kind of stung.

  * * * *

  Cash walked home after replacing Aubrey’s gasoline and took a shower. After charging his phone, he started to call Sawyer to check on Ellie and stopped himself. The kid didn’t need an overbearing old man. Knowing Sawyer, he was keeping Ellie, Travis, and Grady thoroughly entertained, and a call from Cash to make sure his daughter was staying hydrated and covered from the sun would put a damper on her day.

  Hydrated. Covered from the sun. Damn.

  He checked outside to see if Aubrey’s Volvo was still there, but it was gone. He’d test-driven it around the ranch, and with the new high-octane gasoline it had run like a charm, confirming his theory that someone had sabotaged the car.

  This bullshit had to stop.

  The Aubrey-and-Jace rumor and the subsequent fallout had gone on long enough. Cash planned to coax the truth out of Aubrey, and soon. But after her white charger comment, he’d stopped pushing, especially in light of them sleeping together. Maybe jumping into the sack with her hadn’t been such a prudent idea. Sure, his dick was still gung ho about it, but his brain was on the fence.

  Or was it? That was the problem.

  In any event, it had been some morning. One he wouldn’t forget.

  “Hey, anyone home?” Jace didn’t wait for an answer, just let himself inside Cash’s cabin.

  Cash hadn’t heard or seen his cousin’s truck pull up. “You walk over?”

  “Yep,” he said and held up the beer in his hand. “Got off early because I put in an all-nighter after the shit show at Beals Ranch.”

  “You have any suspects?”

  “Not yet.” Jace sighed and nudged his head at the porch. “Let’s sit outside. It’s not too hot today.”

  It was at least eighty degrees in the shade. Cash was used to summer in San Francisco, where most days called for a fleece or hoodie.

  “Let me grab a beer.” Cash found a six-pack hiding in the back of the refrigerator and returned to the porch.

  Jace pulled two lawn chairs under the eaves of the roof. He propped up his feet on the porch rail and they listened to the creek gurgle and flow.

  “I was hoping you’d help me work through it.” Jace took a swig of his beer and put it down on the floor.

  “Work through what?”

  “The Beals case. I’m starting to think it was an inside job.”

  Cash leaned against the wall in his chair. “How’s that?”

  “I hope I’m wrong.” Jace shoved his hand under his hat and rubbed his head. “I’ve known that family my whole life. Grandpa was best friends with Scott. But things aren’t adding up
.”

  “What kind of things?” Cash asked before he remembered that he didn’t want to get involved.

  “Like how does nearly a dozen stock trailers get through Dry Creek unnoticed? Because not one person remembers seeing that kind of caravan go through town. Granted, people ’round here roll up and go to bed by nine. But come on! We’re talking roughly a thousand pounds on the hoof for each animal; that’s a hundred tons of live beef. How do you move that unnoticed? You might be able to in the middle of nowhere, where there isn’t a person around for miles. But here? We’re not that small, Cash. Denny’s horse farm is right there on the road. They were up all night with a sick stallion. No one saw trailers come and go.”

  Cash had to agree. “What does the inspector from the Bureau of Livestock Identification have to say?”

  “Red? He’s got one foot out the door. Besides, he’s friends with all these guys.”

  “So are you.” It was the life of a country sheriff. Cash had seen the Bureau called in countless times to rural areas because the local lawmen were too cozy with the bad guys.

  Jace picked up his beer. “You know me better than that. I don’t roll that way.”

  Hell no, he didn’t. He was raised by Jasper Dalton, who lived by the cowboy code. Honor, integrity, truthfulness, and defend the weak. Didn’t Cash know the creed well. Defend the weak. It sure hadn’t helped Casey Farmington.

  “You think it’s an insurance scam?” he asked Jace, because that was the only way the Bealses would benefit from stealing their own cattle. Slaughter the cows, sell the beef to a shadowy distributor, and report the livestock stolen.

  “If they did it, yeah. What do you think?”

  Cash hesitated a second. Accusing your neighbor of insurance fraud wasn’t something he took lightly, even if it was just him and Jace throwing around possibilities. “It’s a decent theory, but you need more than a hunch, Jace.”

  “I know that. And hell, Cash, I like the Bealses. It would kill me if they pulled something like that. But the cattle business is hard. The drought killed Grandpa. He had to cull half his herd.”

  Cash nodded. Saving a family business was a strong motivator, even to do something illegal. “Have you been in touch with the Bealses’ insurance company? Do you even know if they were insured?” Agriculture insurance was expensive, and a lot of companies wouldn’t even write the policies.

  “Not yet. Red’s looking in to it. The Bealses claim they weren’t even home that week. They took their grandkids to Disneyland.”

  Cash took a sip of his beer. The cold brew tasted good in the heat. “That should be easy enough to corroborate. What’re you thinking your next move is?”

  “That’s what I wanted to ask you.” Jace scratched his chin. “How would you proceed?”

  Cash got to his feet, walked to the end of the porch, and rested his arms on the railing. Jace was sucking him back in and he wasn’t doing anything to stop it. It was just a puzzle, he told himself. He’d always liked puzzles. “When you were at Beals Ranch, were you able to take a good look around? If the Bealses are involved, it’s a pretty good bet they slaughtered those animals right on the property.”

  “We were only in the pasture where the fence was cut and the ATV tracks were left.”

  “Did you collect the tire tracks? I’m guessing the Bealses have a couple of ATVs.” Most ranchers did, for everything from rounding up cattle to getting to places where a truck wouldn’t go. “It would be nice to make a comparison, but you’ll want a warrant for that. And I’m not sure at this point you want to tip them off to the fact that they’re suspects.”

  “Nope,” Jace said. “But I’ll go over today under the guise that I want to update them on the case, and have a look around.”

  Cash didn’t need to tell Jace what to look for. Having grown up on a cattle ranch, Jace would know the signs of a makeshift slaughterhouse better than Cash would. While commercial livestock had to be slaughtered and processed at a USDA or California Department of Food and Agriculture-licensed facility, plenty of ranchers did it at home for personal use.

  “They would’ve had to have cleaned the place with a toothbrush and a truckload of bleach to conceal the slaughter of that many animals,” Cash said.

  “If they did, they’re looking at more than insurance fraud. They’ll have the USDA and the CDFA up their asses.”

  And possibly other federal agencies if they were selling the meat on the black market.

  Both Cash and Jace turned their attention to the driveway as Aubrey’s Volvo nosed its way up the hill, a cloud of dust in its wake.

  “I see her car is working.” Jace stood up, shielding his eyes, and waved.

  “The diagnosis: water in her gas tank.” Aubrey would probably be pissed that Cash had told Jace, but he frankly didn’t give a shit. It was vandalism, or worse, and the law needed to be aware of it.

  Jace looked at Cash with the same intense blue eyes he saw in the mirror every day. “Water in the tank? As in someone intentionally put it there?”

  “Yep.”

  “Goddammit.” Jace took off his hat and scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Now this shit has gone too far. Does she have any idea who did it?”

  “If she does, she’s not saying.” Cash gazed across the creek and watched her carry an armload of grocery bags into her cabin. “I don’t think she knows, though.”

  “I’m gathering you’re the one who fixed it.” Jace followed Cash’s line of vision.

  Cash didn’t respond, knowing where the conversation would go if he did. He and Aubrey were friends—friends with benefits, apparently. Other than that, there was nothing more to say on that topic.

  That’s why he quickly moved to a new one.

  “I’ve got to ask you something.” Cash grabbed his chair again. “The feds are planning to have me testify at Whiting’s trial. It’ll require a few days in San Francisco. I could leave Ellie with my folks, but I’d rather she stay here on the ranch.” She’d meet his parents for the first time this weekend and would probably feel more comfortable staying with the boys until she knew her grandparents better.

  “Sure, that’s not a problem as long as you’re okay with Mrs. Jamison.”

  “You mean Yoda?” Cash grinned.

  Jace crushed his empty beer can and shook his head. “I don’t know where Travis comes up with this crap. Trial, huh? I thought by now he’d plead out.”

  “His attorneys were trying for mental incompetence. The son of a bitch is as crazy as a fox.”

  Jace tossed his can into Cash’s old wine barrel, went into the kitchen, and came back with another beer. “You okay with it? Testifying?”

  Cash didn’t say anything for a while. There were too many things filtering through his head, like how he’d have to tell a courtroom full of reporters and the victims’ families how he…and the Bureau…had botched the case. “I want the piece of shit to fry.”

  “Yeah you do.” Jace popped the cap on the bottle with his cowboy boot. “Whatever you need, Ellie’s always welcome with us. With Sawyer too.”

  “Thanks.”

  Jace tipped back the bottle, took a long guzzle, and slapped Cash on the back, then handed him his unfinished beer. “I’ve got to get some laundry done before the kids get home.”

  He rose and halfway down the driveway called to Cash, “Be good to Aubrey or I’ll kick your ass.”

  Chapter 14

  Ellie posted a picture of Sawyer, Travis, and Grady to her Instagram account while they drove home from the water park and, like clockwork, Mary Margaret texted her.

  “How’s Daddy dearest?” Mary Margaret wrote back.

  He was the bane of her existence. He tried to act like Ellie’s mom had kept Ellie a secret from him, but she didn’t believe him. It was obvious he just hadn’t cared enough to go to Boston to visit her, or at least send a card on her birthday.r />
  Even Mary Margaret’s dad, who was supposedly “out of the picture,” sent presents on Christmas and Valentine’s Day. He also bought her a camera once, and a locket that Mary Margaret’s mother said wasn’t real gold.

  Ellie’s father hadn’t given her the time of day until her mother died.

  “How are you guys doing back there?” Sawyer asked while looking in his rearview mirror. “You’re awfully quiet.”

  That was because Grady, who’d called shotgun, blabbed enough for all of them.

  “We’re good,” Travis said and went back to his phone.

  “Ellie?”

  “I’m good too.”

  “Should we stop for food? That way I can save you from your dads’ cooking.”

  Her father actually cooked okay; not as good as her mom, though. No one cooked as good as her mom. Every Sunday after church they used to make a bunch of meals and freeze them in case Ellie’s mom had a big case to investigate and couldn’t come home in time for dinner.

  It was weird that her father didn’t work. Every time Ellie turned around, he was there, telling her dumb things, like she needed to put suntan lotion on her face.

  “Yes!” Grady did a fist pump in the air. “Tacos.”

  “What do you guys say? Tacos? Or we could get a pizza, or burgers.”

  “Pizza,” Travis said.

  Ellie wanted pizza too, but her mom had taught her that it was rude to ask for things. When she went out to dinner with other people, she was supposed to order the cheapest thing on the menu and not get a soda.

  “How ’bout you, Ellie? You’re the tiebreaker.”

  “Um…I don’t care, whatever everyone else wants.”

  Sawyer adjusted his mirror and looked straight at her. “Hey, kiddo, Daltons aren’t shy. Say what you want to eat and own it.”

  Everyone waited for her to say something. Grady twisted around in the front seat and Travis nudged her impatiently with his toe.

  She was quiet for a long time. But because everyone was staring at her, she finally said, “Pizza.”

  Travis cheered, Grady did another fist pump, even though he wanted tacos, and Sawyer winked at her. Ellie wondered if they thought she was a Dalton now. Because she didn’t feel like one. She still felt like Ellie Tosca from Boston, Massachusetts.