Smokescreen (Pros and Cons Mysteries #2)

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

“ E verything okay?” Reid’s voice snapped Olive from her thoughts.

She quickly shoved the phone back into her pocket. “It’s fine. It’s . . . something pertaining to another case, a case I won’t be focusing on while I’m here.”

“Good to hear.” Reid’s gaze lingered on Olive as if he knew there was more to her story.

Thankfully, he didn’t ask. But it wouldn’t be fair to Reid if she didn’t give this investigation 100 percent.

Olive placed her hand in the crook of his arm, and he led her outside.

But contrary to her words, her mind stayed on that text. Was that a threat?

She often wondered if she’d been on the dossier the night her family had been killed. She’d wondered if the murderer would ever come back for her. In eight years, he hadn’t . . . though at times Olive felt as if someone might be watching her.

Then three months ago, she’d gotten a mysterious text that read:

I know who killed your family.

She’d asked Tevin to trace the number, though she knew his efforts would probably be futile.

She was correct. The message had come from a burner phone. However, Tevin had been able to figure out that the message had been sent from somewhere in Chicago—the very area where Olive had been working at the time.

Was the sender keeping an eye on her? Did he know Olive was in Wyoming? Or were those details insignificant?

Stepping outside into the cool mid-April day, Olive and Reid began walking around the ranch.

“I could give you a ride in the side-by-side, but it’s a beautiful day out.” Reid nodded up at the sweeping blue sky overhead. “I thought you might want to stretch your legs and breathe some of the freshest air you can experience.”

“Stretching my legs sounds amazing. And who can turn down fresh air, especially on a sixty-degree day?”

Olive glanced around the property once more in awe. Craggy mountains stood tall around them, yet the valley where this ranch was located was green and fertile. A river cut through the center of the pasture in the distance with several small creeks running into it. The water source created the perfect pastures for cattle to graze.

The Homestead—that was what they called the massive estate house—was ten thousand square feet and contained every luxury imaginable. Olive only knew that because the home had been featured in a cover story in Wyoming Today magazine. The sprawling, log-cabin-style home—more of a lodge, really—was a thing of beauty.

“This your first time in Wyoming?” Reid asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes. It is. It’s unbelievably gorgeous here.”

“I agree. It’s like a slice of heaven on earth.”

Olive wondered for a moment if he actually believed in heaven. She wondered as well if she believed in heaven. She wasn’t sure anymore.

“This place has been in my family’s name for more than one hundred fifty years.” Reid strolled along the property, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, casual and laid-back. “My great-great-great-grandparents were one of the original settlers in this area.”

“That’s quite a legacy.”

“It is.”

It definitely seemed like a slower pace of life here. What would that be like? The busier she was, the less time she had to think about her grief. Eight years had dimmed the pain some, but it always lingered just out of sight, waiting to pop up like a game of Whac-A-Mole.

He paused and pointed to some buildings behind the Homestead. “Over there, we have the bunkhouse where the ranch hands stay. We also have the stables, a pole barn where we store equipment, and a feed shed where all the food for the animals is stored.”

“Is that all?” Her voice contained a playful tone.

Reid smiled. “We have a couple of older, smaller log homes on a different part of the property, but I don’t usually show people those. They’re not in use anymore.”

“Noted.” She drew in a long, deep breath of fresh air. “I’m sure that over the years people have tried to buy this place from your family.”

“More than I can count—although it’s usually just parts of the property, not everything in its entirety.”

“I suppose any of those people could be guilty of trying to drive you away. I’d like a list of them.”

“I’ll get them to you. But what I don’t quite understand is why someone would want all this property or would try to shut this ranch down. Even if I were to sell it to someone, the taxes on this place alone are six figures. Most people couldn’t handle the upkeep—physically or financially.”

Six figures in taxes? That sounded overwhelming. “Do you have any theories?”

He sighed. “I’m not sure it’s realistic to think that housing developments could be built here and turn a profit. Sure, more people are realizing the beauty of the state and moving here. But our isolated location and harsh winters aren’t for everyone. Plus, there aren’t enough businesses to support the employment that would be needed.”

“What does the temperature get down to here in the winter?”

“It averages twenty-eight degrees in the winter months, with lows of around five to ten degrees. And we can have up to thirty inches of snow.”

Olive shivered at the thought. She preferred warmer weather, but Wyoming could be a nice place to have as a summer home.

She mentally laughed at herself. She would never have a job that would pay her enough to afford that.

“So do you have any other theories?” she asked.

Even though they were just acting, and no one else was around, Olive kept her arm tucked into Reid’s. They needed to sell their relationship, and the small details counted. The details always counted. Details were where most people working undercover failed.

“That’s what we need to figure out,” Reid finally said.

“Okay, so before we get too far, I think I’ve come up with a decent cover story,” she started. “Want to hear it?”

“I look forward to it.” His eyes twinkled with curiosity as he paused and leaned against a wooden fence.

Olive copied his stance and stood across from him, her hip perched against the fence also. “You went to northern California last month for the livestock convention.”

His eyebrows rose. “You do your research.”

“Please don’t expect—or accept—anything less.”

He grinned. “I won’t.”

“Anyway, while you were there, the two of us met. My family owns a vineyard, but we’re looking to diversify.”

“That could work . . .”

“We ran into each other, we bantered, we had dinner . . . and the rest is history.” The two of them had good chemistry together, which would help sell their cover story. Chemistry was never something that could be predicted.

“Sounds believable.” His approving gaze stayed on her a moment longer.

Good. Olive liked it when her clients were satisfied. “I think a month ago seems safe. It will give us enough time to have met and gotten to know each other better. Now I’ve flown here for a visit before we take our relationship to the next level. Sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Just then, Olive spotted an SUV barreling down the lane. Dust flew up behind the black vehicle. The driver turned sharply before charging up the driveway toward the Homestead.

Olive frowned as she watched the vehicle. “Any idea who that is?”

Reid glared at the SUV. “It’s Lucy Bondurant . . . my former stepsister and possibly the most entitled person I’ve ever met.”

Olive strolled with Reid back toward the house. Though Reid seemed anxious to figure out why Lucy was here, he didn’t rush to meet the woman.

Olive could appreciate that. It was a good rule for investigations: Never show your hand or let someone know they have you rattled.

They reached the porch just as Lucy stepped from her Cadillac SUV, gingerly releasing one slender leg at a time.

She strode toward them before raising her oversized sunglasses to the top of her head.

The tall, thin blonde looked as if she could have been a supermodel.

Except for her scowl. There was nothing beautiful about that.

“Reid . . .” she purred.

“Lucy . . . you’re the last person I was expecting to see,” Reid started, his voice harder than it had been only seconds earlier.

The woman’s gaze flickered from Reid to Olive then back to Reid.

“Who is she?” An almost accusatory sound ripped through her otherwise velvety voice.

“Is that any way to greet my new girlfriend?”

Lucy’s eyebrows pinged upward again. “Your new girlfriend? Don’t you mean your new flavor of the month?”

Reid bristled as if he didn’t appreciate her words. “What are you doing here, Lucy?”

She sashayed closer, reminding Olive of a boa constrictor about to encircle its prey.

“You didn’t finish introducing us.” Lucy extended her long, slender arm. “Lucy Bondurant.”

Olive didn’t hesitate before shaking her hand, determined to remain cool and collected. “Olive Abernathy. Nice to meet you.”

“We’ll see about that.” She pulled her hand away and smirked.

“Enough of your games, Lucy.” Reid’s voice sharpened. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to show you this.” She reached into her purse, pulled out a manilla envelope, and smacked it into Reid’s hand.

He stared at it a moment as if cautious. “What’s this?”

“Open it and see.” Her words sounded entirely too smug.

Reid waited another moment before undoing the clasp on the envelope and pulling out a thick, legal-looking document.

Olive peered over his shoulder, curious.

The letterhead showed the paperwork was from the law office of Radcliffe, Johnson, and Pearson. Olive had only started to skim the words on the cover page when Reid lowered it.

“These documents are forged,” Reid growled.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Condescension dripped from her voice. “You know this is your father’s most recent will. You purposefully hid it so I wouldn’t get what’s rightfully mine.”

“That’s ludicrous.”

She smirked. “But it’s not. You tried to get away with keeping all this property for yourself, but your plan didn’t work. I will get my fair share.”

“You really think this kind of threat is going to make me want to give you part of my property?”

“This will is legit.” Lucy jutted her hip out as she stared at him cooly. “I assure you of that.”

“Where did you even find this alternate will?” Olive didn’t want the woman to leave before answering that question.

Lucy’s gaze darkened. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was going through some of my mom’s things, looking for the title to my car when I found it. If you look at the date, you’ll see this document was created only two weeks before your father’s death. I doubt he changed it again before he died.”

“I doubt he left you in his will at all.” Reid stepped closer, his voice tightening. “You have no rightful claim to my property.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do I need to remind you that I was a part of this family for five years?”

“None of this was left to you or your mother in my father’s will.” He sliced his hand through the air. “None of it.”

“You know how persistent I am. I’m not going to give this up. You might as well just hand over what’s rightfully mine and save yourself a mountain of debt and legal fees—not to mention a huge drain on your valuable time.”

“Not on your life,” Reid shot back.

Poor choice of words, Olive mused. She didn’t say that aloud, however.

There was obviously no love lost between these two.

Lucy offered a curt half-shrug. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up.”

With those words, Lucy turned on her heel and climbed back into her SUV. Just as quickly as she’d come, she left, leaving another trail of dust behind her.

Olive would definitely be adding this woman to her suspect list.