Chapter Twenty-Six #4
The piece of paper that she’s looking at is a map, and from what I can deduce, it’s the map of the ranch, the complete Rawhide ranch. Moving her finger over a zigzagging line that is apparently a creek, Peyton says, “I don’t know but I think it could be something.”
“Something like what?”
She flips the paper to reveal another map, this one slightly newer-looking, and somehow, she follows the same zigzagging line that she was following on the other map.
She gets busy going back and forth between maps and pointing at things and tapping stuff here and there, mostly gibberish to me.
Apparently when it comes to mischief and mayhem, Peyton is super detail oriented and I have zero imagination.
So I prod, “Something like what, Peyton?”
“Okay, look”—she points to something, a little box kind of thingy—“this little barn wasn’t here before. They built it recently.”
“O-kay,” I say, nodding, trying to follow her fingers and all this back and forth she’s doing. “So what?”
“So”—she does some more pointing—“there are a ton of such structures that weren’t on their land twenty years ago, which is how old this map is.” She points to the top to show me the date on the older map. “But on this one”—she points to the newer map—“they suddenly crop up and they’re everywhere.”
I slap my hands down on the maps and make her stop. “Okay, English, please. I don’t know what it means. So they didn’t have as many barns twenty years ago as they do now. So what?”
Peyton looks at me with shining eyes. “Do you remember, years ago, probably before we moved to Bozeman”—she pauses to let that take effect—“I came to you because I overheard my brother talking to my dad. About something related to Rawhide.”
I try to cast my mind back, but only bits and pieces of memory arise. “Something about some stuff happening on Rawhide. And that your dad was looking into it.”
But then, her family had always looked into the Graysons because, according to them, something illegal was always happening at Rawhide. So I don’t know why this is important.
“Yes,” Peyton, all excited, says with a nod. “It was something my brother found out. People were disappearing, Riri. All these men. And their trail led to the Graysons. To Rawhide.”
“What people?”
She is even more excited at my question if possible. “This is the best part. They were inmates. Prison inmates.”
A chill goes down my spine. “What?”
“I think the Graysons did something to them,” she says, straightening away from the maps. “To these inmates.”
“That’s… I don’t think that’s—”
“Look, you said he stabbed a cop. In a courthouse, right? And he was like this big guy in prison, wasn’t he?
Everyone knew who he was. What if it means something?
What if there are people in the police force that work for the Graysons and together, they’re all involved in whatever is happening here on this ranch. ”
I open my mouth to say something but close it. Then I try again: “So what do these barns have to do with all of this?”
“It could be where they’re hiding these men,” Peyton speculates.
“Why would they… What do you think they want with these men?”
“I don’t know.” She gasps then, as if something just occurred to her. “Human trafficking.”
“What?”
“That’s what makes the most sense,” she says in conclusion.
“How does it… I don’t even… How did you even get to that point?”
Peyton looks at me with grave eyes. “Because they want money.”
“Money.”
“Yes.” She nods, all calm-like, and I don’t like it at all.
“They want money, remember? He wants money. He said it himself. That’s his bottom line.
He’s willing to do anything for it. Including kidnapping a couple of girls and using them to get more land.
Land with oil in it. If they can do that, why can’t they also run a human trafficking ring out of their ranch. ”
“Because this is…” I shake my head. I even put a hand on my forehead, trying to calm myself down. “Because this is really extreme, Peyton, okay? And because he…”
He doesn’t want money. I don’t know what he wants from that land, but it’s not money.
Peyton narrows her eyes at me. “Because he what?”
My heart hammers in my chest. “He could be… killing these people? Or punishing them for their crimes or whatever.”
It’s thin, my lie. Also, how is killing someone better than trafficking them? Oh God, I don’t know, but I didn’t know what else to say.
Peyton gives me a look. “So you think the Graysons are vigilantes? That they’re cleaning up the streets of Montana because their hearts are so big and noble and just?”
“I don’t know, they could be. It makes more sense than your theory.”
She breathes out sharply. “Fine, let’s see who’s right then.”
“Okay, wait; now what is that supposed to mean?”
Her lips stretch out in a slow smile. “We’re going to check out one of these barns.”
My heart slows down. It almost stops at her crazy, crazy plan. “No.”
“Yes.”
“Peyton. No.”
“Reverie, yes. Because we have to.”
“Why do we have to? Why…” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “You do realize all of this is wild speculation, don’t you? These could just be barns. Because in case you forgot, this is a ranch. A ranch usually has barns. And—”
“Okay then, these are just barns. But if these are something more, then we hit the jackpot. And I’m not willing to let that chance go. Are you?”
Before I can respond, we hear footsteps and our eyes snap to the door.
Peyton mouths Shit, looking freaked out, but somehow I go calm and grab her hand, pulling her away from the desk.
She gathers her maps and we head toward another door that I scoped out as soon as we got here.
And thank God for that because it’s a bathroom, and just as the knob on the office door turns, we make it inside.
For some reason, I keep the door slightly ajar so I can peek out.
It’s Axton. And he’s making a beeline to the desk.
He rounds it, though, and keeps going until he reaches the big portrait on the wall behind the desk.
It looks like a portrait of their parents.
Axton removes it, and underneath is a wall safe with a keypad.
It’s clear he knows the code to it because the door opens with a click, and then he reaches in.
I can’t really see what he’s doing in there, but I get a strange feeling.
A strange calling, if you will.
Probably like what Peyton felt when she wanted to check out the office.
A hunch that says I need to be in there.
I need to look into that safe. I have a feeling that all the Grayson secrets are locked up tight in that safe, and I should probably be sifting through it if I want to do something about this whole mess.
My thoughts break when Axton pulls out a bundle of cash.
It’s not huge or anything, a very thin stack, and the way he looks back at the door before pocketing it makes me think he’s stealing.
He slowly shuts the door, enters the code to lock it, and puts the portrait back up.
Then he’s walking out the door just as fast as he came in.
Twenty minutes later we stand in the kitchen with Haven, and my heart is still racing from what we just did.
I’m putting my dishes away in the sink when I notice something through the window.
It looks over the backyard where the bonfire was held last night, and I see a uniformed officer standing there along with Rad and Arsen.
They’re all talking peacefully, or rather the cop is talking to Arsen, but something about how the cop is looking at him has me all on alert.
I feel Haven stop beside me and say, “That’s his parole officer.”
I look at her to find she’s witnessing the same scene as me. “But didn’t he go see him yesterday?”
“He did.”
“So then, what’s he doing here now?”
She shrugs. “They can visit anytime. It’s within their legal rights.” Then, sighing, “But I have a feeling he’s going to be checking in on him more often than he usually does with his other parolees.”
My heart clenches when I realize why. “Turners.”
She looks at me and smiles sadly. “Yes. They won’t let him be in peace now that he’s out.” She adds, muttering, “God, I so want this to be over for him.”
Me, too, because Haven is right. Just like him, the Turners won’t let this go either. So I really need to do something and do it soon.