by Stacy Finz
No, something was up. Before she could probe for more details, Mitch slammed the door, spun his truck around, and sped away. Ellie raced out the door and down the porch steps.
“What did he want?”
Aubrey caught Ellie in a hug. “Nothing important.”
“He looked mad, like he was going to do something to you.”
“Nah, that’s his everyday look.” Jackass, moron, cheater, take your pick.
“Does my dad know him?” Ellie stared past the trees, where they could still see the back of Mitch’s truck jackknifing at the end of the road.
“I don’t think so, but your Uncle Jace does. They used to be best friends.”
“They’re not anymore?”
“Nope.” Aubrey ruffled Ellie’s hair. She was an inquisitive kid, that’s for sure. “They had a falling out. Let’s go finish your bedroom.”
* * * *
Cash couldn’t believe he was getting sucked into this. Jace had rolled up to the cabin at nine in the morning, said he didn’t need a warrant because the Bealses had given him permission to search their property, and he wanted Cash to come along. For some deranged reason Cash didn’t fully understand, he had agreed. Almost gleefully.
So here they were, trying to find where thieves might’ve set up a mobile slaughterhouse without drawing attention from any of the neighboring ranches. It was a big spread, and there were lots of pockets where there wasn’t another house for miles. The closest neighbors were Denny’s horse farm and Dry Creek Ranch. They all shared the same artery—Dry Creek Road—to Highway 49, which turned into Main Street and went straight through town. There was no other way in and no other way out unless you went by helicopter. But with acres and acres of land between ranches, a person could set up any number of illicit enterprises and no one would be the wiser.
That was why Cash was working under the theory that the thieves had literally set up a chop shop on the ranch rather than drawing attention to themselves by trucking all those cattle through town. Black market meat was a good business. Shady restaurateurs, grocers, butchers, and even some distributors could snatch up prime cuts of beef for a fraction of the price of USDA-approved meat. It happened all the time in San Francisco.
“I’m not seeing anything that raises suspicion,” Red said. The inspector had met them at Beals Ranch and had walked the barns with them.
If the animals had been slaughtered on-site, chances were good they’d find traces of blood, bones, hide, or even some whole carcasses. There was a lot of ground to cover. Cash had suggested searching the barns first because they were controlled locations that would serve an illegal slaughterhouse setup well. But that didn’t mean the thieves hadn’t used one of the Beals pastures.
“Let’s go back to where you found the ATV tracks,” Cash said, even though Jace had said they’d thoroughly combed the area. Still, it made sense that the thieves would stay as close to the cattle as possible, instead of moving them to another location. It would’ve taken too long, for one thing, and herding two hundred head on the backs of three-wheelers was a noisy enterprise.
“I think that’s a waste of time.” Red checked his phone; perhaps he had another appointment. “Truthfully, I think this whole expedition is futile. By now, any evidence left behind is either in the ground or has been eaten by birds and animals.”
He was probably right, but if they found something, even something small, it could turn into a good lead. Right now, they had nothing.
“If you’ve got somewhere to be, Cash and I can finish up here.” Jace sounded cordial enough, but Cash knew his cousin well enough to recognize annoyance. He thought Red was phoning it in.
“Nah,” Red said. “Let’s go check it out; it certainly can’t hurt.”
That was Cash’s way of thinking. They piled into Jace’s truck and Red followed them in his own vehicle. It took about twenty minutes to get to the pasture where the cattle had been grazing, the scene of the crime. Some of the drive was on a well-maintained dirt road, but a good chunk of the trip required all-wheel drive across rutted and bumpy fields. Because of the heat, the fire danger was high, so Jace took it slow. All it took was one spark in the grass from a hot exhaust pipe or muffler.
Unlike Dry Creek Ranch, the Beals had managed to weather the drought. Their fences were sturdy, their outbuildings well kept, and the land hadn’t been overtaken by weeds.
“Nice place,” Cash acknowledged out loud.
“Yep. This is what Dry Creek Ranch could look like.”
“If we won a Powerball jackpot.” When was Jace going to get it through that thick head of his that reviving the property was a pipe dream? “I think Beals Ranch is twice the size. It must be worth a pretty penny.”
Jace slid him a sideways glance. “Is that all you can think about? There’s history here, Cash. This is the Bealses’…our …heritage, for God’s sake. But all you seem to see are dollar signs.”
Cash resented the remark. It made him sound like a money-grubbing piece of shit. “Unlike you, I’m practical. You know what you could do for the boys with the proceeds from Dry Creek Ranch? For one, you could send them to college.”
Jace visibly bristled. “We do fine.”
“Oh yeah. Then I gather you’re socking away money for Travis and Grady’s education.”
Silence. Yeah, that’s what Cash thought. A sheriff in a small rural county didn’t make a big salary, and unfortunately, that’s what it took to raise a family in California.
“The way things are going, you don’t even know if you’ll get reelected,” Cash said.
“Then I’ll become a full-time cattle rancher.”
Cash laughed, because no one in this state ranched full time anymore. The land was too valuable to run cattle. Most ranchers had day jobs to make ends meet. They raised livestock because they wanted to preserve a culture and lifestyle that had been handed down to them through the ages. But if they wanted to pay their mortgage and put shoes on their children’s feet, they needed an outside income.
“Get real, Jace.”
Jace steered around a grove of trees where a small herd of Angus had assembled to take advantage of the shade. “We’ll come up with something, Cash. But we’re not selling.”
They’d had this conversation so many times, Cash didn’t bother to argue. For now, Dry Creek was a good place for Ellie. Safe, with plenty of room for a kid to stretch her legs. He wanted her to have it long enough to make the same kinds of memories he’d made here as a boy. What happened after that…well, they’d have to wait and see.
Jace cut the engine where the fence had been repaired, the point of entry where the thieves had unloaded their ATVs. Cash got out and walked off the area.
“How big was the cut in the fence?”
Jace came over and pointed to two yellow markers that were spaced at least fourteen feet apart. Definitely enough room for a large rig to get inside. Cash crouched down, dug under the grass, and let a scoop of dirt sift through his hands.
“Over there is where we found the tire tracks.”
“Do the Bealses have ATVs?” Without the insurance component, it pretty much ruled them out as suspects. Still, the suspects could’ve used the Bealses’ ATVs in the theft and—in a perfect world—left evidence that would help identify them. Sure, like a business card. Wouldn’t that be nice?
“Yep. We already checked that out. They don’t match the tracks.”
Red pulled up behind Jace’s truck and took his time joining them. It looked to Cash like he was on the phone. The Bureau of Livestock Identification, an arm of the California Department of Food and Agriculture, was probably like any other state agency. Strapped for resources. Cash assumed Red’s territory was a large swath of the state. And with the rise in livestock thefts, he had his hands full.
Jace wasn’t as sympathetic. He gazed over at Red’s truck and rolled his eyes.
<
br /> “When is he retiring?” Cash asked.
“Officially, a couple of weeks. Unofficially, it looks like today.”
Cash had to admit that Red didn’t seem too invested in the investigation. This wasn’t your average cattle-rustling case; two hundred head was a big deal. He would’ve thought Red would be more involved, retirement or not.
Cash stood by the fence, gazing over the land, trying to identify where he would’ve set up shop. The field was fairly remote, though sound carried in the still of the night. And in darkness, the thieves would’ve needed light.
“Any electricity out here?”
“Nope. They probably brought a generator.”
Cash nodded. “What’s over there?” He directed Jace’s attention fifty or so feet away and started hiking toward the spot.
“Where?” Jace came up behind him.
“Over there.” Cash pointed. It could’ve just been a trick of the eye, but the grass looked flatter there than it did in the rest of the field.
As they got closer, he could see tire tracks and didn’t think they belonged to an ATV. But there hadn’t been a trail from the fire road where the fence had been cut. Whoever drove here came from another direction.
Red’s truck door slammed. He cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, “Did you find something?”
Jace waved him over.
“I think this is where they set up some kind of staging area,” Cash told Jace and walked around the disturbed ground, trying to find the continuation of the tracks.
“There.” Jace pointed. “They came from there.”
Red joined them. He was out of breath and sweat had soaked through his Western shirt. “What did you find?”
Cash kicked the tracks with his foot. “See the way the grass is flat and the ground indented? I think they parked a trailer here.”
Red squatted and took a closer look. “How do we know this wasn’t one of the Bealses’ rigs, delivering water or feed? It wasn’t here before.”
“Or we didn’t see it before.” Jace made eye contact with Cash.
“It was pretty easy to miss. If that herd over there”—Cash pointed at the trees, where more than twenty cows stood in the shade—“had been here, I probably wouldn’t have noticed anything.”
Jace followed the tracks for a distance. “Check it out. If I’m reading it right, we’re talking multiple tires.”
That was Cash’s initial impression when he’d first seen the tread marks. “A semitrailer. But where did it come from?”
“Beats the hell out of me.” Red snapped a few pictures with his camera.
“I’m thinking they barreled right through the fence.” Jace continued to scan the area and kicked the dirt. “The ground is so dry, it didn’t leave impressions until they parked, and with the weight of the cattle inside…”
It was as good a theory as any, Cash supposed.
“I don’t know; we saw the ATV tracks clear as day,” Red said.
That could’ve been intentional, Cash thought. “I’m operating under the theory they did everything right here.”
“Slaughtering two hundred head? That would’ve taken hours and hours,” Red said, unconvinced.
“Convenient that no one was home.” Jace exchanged another glance with Cash.
Red looked at both of them. “Inside job?”
It was a good guess. The question was, if not the Beals, then who on the inside was behind it?
Chapter 18
“Well, did you solve the case?” Aubrey greeted Cash at his own cabin door.
He took quick stock of the empty front room and crushed Aubrey’s mouth with his. “Where’s Ellie?” he whispered.
“In her new room. Furniture came. Want to see?”
“I want to kiss you a little more first while we still have some privacy.”
“Kiss away.” She wrapped her arms around his hips and pulled him firmly against her because she was a troublemaker that way.
A door squeaked, and they both pulled apart, knocking off Cash’s cowboy hat in their rushed attempt not to get caught.
“Hey, Ellie.” Cash bent down and collected his Resistol from the floor.
Ellie turned to Aubrey. “Did you tell him?”
“Tell me what?”
Aubrey waved him off. “It’s nothing. Come see Ellie’s room.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him down the hallway. They could talk about Mitch later, or never. As far as she was concerned, the topic of her ex-fiancé was boring with a capital B.
“Can I at least wash my hands first?”
“Yes, but hurry. We worked really hard—didn’t we, Ellie?—and want to show off the fruits of our labor.”
Cash ducked inside the hallway to use the bathroom.
“You didn’t mess up the bed, did you?” she asked Ellie. Even though they had to make do with the old bedding, which was beyond ugly, Aubrey had fluffed the comforter the best she could and made a nice arrangement with the pillows.
“No, it still looks good.”
Despite Mitch’s unannounced visit, she and Ellie had had a terrific time today, decorating and talking and eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches together. And although Ellie wasn’t as excited about the new furniture as Aubrey would’ve expected, she seemed to be coming around.
New dad, new place; all these things took some getting used to for a little girl.
“All right.” Cash came into the living room. “Let’s see this masterpiece of a bedroom.”
Aubrey jumped up from the couch, but Ellie seemed reluctant. “Don’t you want to be the first to show your dad, Ellie?”
Ellie rose slowly, walked to her bedroom, swung open the door, and waved her hand over the threshold, inviting Cash to step in.
“Wow, this is some bedroom,” he gushed. “It’s like something out of a magazine.” He examined the birdhouses on each bed post, crouching down to assess the workmanship, which, for the price, was pretty good. Sturdy and made from real wood.
Aubrey had never dealt with the vendor before and was pleased that the real thing had been a close replica of the catalog picture. Often, that wasn’t the case. Aubrey had had to return more products than she could count because they were anemic versions of what was advertised.
Cash sat at Ellie’s desk, and Aubrey laughed when he tried to stuff his knees underneath.
“You like it, Ellie?” He got up and gave Ellie’s shoulder a squeeze.
His expression was so hopeful, Aubrey’s throat clogged. There was something about a big, strong cowboy working so hard to please a child that made her heart race.
Ellie’s eyes filled with tears and she rushed out of the room. A few seconds later, the screen door slammed.
Cash threw his arms up in the air. “What did I do wrong?”
“You didn’t do anything but be sweet.” She took his hand and laced her fingers with his. “If you want my armchair analysis, Ellie wants to love it, but she feels like she’s betraying her mom.”
Cash appeared baffled. “But Marie would want her to have a nice bedroom…hell, the one she had in Boston was decked out.”
“Exactly. Don’t you see, if she loves this one, it’s like giving up the one that her mother made her. She isn’t ready to let go of that yet.”
“Why does it have to be either/or?” He sat on the edge of Ellie’s bed, looking completely puzzled.
“Because she’s twelve, Cash. At that age, things are black or white. There are no shades of gray.”
He scrubbed his hand down his face. “Should I go after her?”
“Give her a few minutes.” Aubrey sat next to him. “She and I had such a lovely day together. The kid gets me right here.” She tapped her chest with her fist.
Cash took a visual turn around the room. “You worked some magic here, Aubrey. Thank you. I’m sorry E
llie didn’t appreciate it more, but I do.”
Ah, he was worried her feelings were hurt. She stood up, put her hands on his shoulders, and bent down to kiss him softly. “Don’t worry about me.” She turned to linger on the pink stripes they’d painted together. “This was a joy to decorate, and Ellie will come to cherish the room, not because of my prowess as a designer but because her daddy did this for her, mark my words.” She chucked him on the chin. “I’m taking off now so you two can have some time together.”
Cash got to his feet. “Thank you for watching her today.”
“It was my pleasure. And later, I want to hear about the investigation; that is, if you’re allowed to tell me.”
“Aubrey, I’m not a cop. I was just along for the ride.” He walked her to the door. “I’ll call you later.”
They didn’t kiss, but Cash stood on the porch and watched her walk home. She waved across the creek once she got inside the door. And then, for no reason at all, she sat at her kitchen table and cried. She supposed it was for Ellie and all the pain she must be going through, and for Cash, who was trying so hard but couldn’t seem to catch a break where his daughter was concerned. And she supposed some of her tears were for herself, for Cash, and their colossally bad timing.
* * * *
Cash grabbed two apples from the fridge and went in search of Ellie. The girl couldn’t have gone far, and he had a sneaking suspicion of exactly where she might be. Ten minutes later, he found her sitting under a blue oak tree, next to the horse barn. Her knees were pulled up to her chin and her face was streaked with tears.
“You got room under there for one more?” He ducked under a low-hanging branch and took the spot next to her, leaning his back against the fat trunk of the tree. “I come bearing gifts.” He tossed her one of the apples.
