Chapter Three #2
Rawley nodded, his focus returning to the glowing screen in front of him.
The room fell into a concentrated silence, punctuated only by the soft hum of computers, keyboards, and quiet conversations.
After a while, Rawley pushed his chair back, the wheels creaking against the floor, and walked over to the printer.
He retrieved a freshly printed sheet, returning to Case and handing it over.
Case took the paper, scanning it with a keen eye before looking up at Rawley. “Tillman purchased a set of those tires in Butte,” he said, his voice firm with the weight of new evidence.
“Yeah, he did. Now, we need to talk to him. Did you ask Dave about a search warrant?” Rawley queried.
“Not yet. He’s at lunch, but I’m going to head back out there and talk to this kid,” Case replied, determination etching his features.
“Alright. I’ll continue to go over more names. Be careful,” Rawley advised, returning to his seat with a nod.
“I will. Thanks, Rawley,” Case acknowledged, pulling his coat on, he grabbed his hat and set it atop his head. He pushed open the glass door, opting to take the stairs instead of the elevator. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the stairwell as he descended swiftly.
Once outside, he climbed into his truck, the engine rumbling to life. As he maneuvered out of the parking lot, he called Dave, requesting a search warrant. Dave’s voice came through the speaker, suggesting the kid might have already moved the horses from the barn.
“I still want in that barn, Dave,” Case insisted.
“I’m on it. If I get it, I’ll have Rawley run it out to you,” Dave assured.
“Yes, sir,” Case affirmed, his eyes fixed on the road.
He drove along the two-lane blacktop, the landscape rushing past in a blur of greens and browns, until the Gibbs ranch loomed into view once more.
Pulling up to the house, he stepped out of the truck, the gravel crunching beneath his boots.
He ascended the steps and knocked on the door, the sound resonating through the quiet.
Receiving no answer, he cast his gaze toward the barns, deciding to investigate the center one.
The barn doors stood slightly ajar, inviting him into the dim interior.
Although he wasn’t officially searching, he knew he’d take note of every detail when he got inside.
Once inside, he glanced around.
“What are you doing?”
Case turned to see Bobby Gibbs walking toward him.
“I’m looking for Brent Tillman.”
“Why?”
“If I thought you deserved to know, I’d tell you. Now, where is he?”
“You’re not allowed in here without a warrant.”
“I’m not here to search the barn. I need to speak with Tillman. ”
“I have no idea where he is today. As far as I know, he’s doing his chores.”
“There has to be a way you keep in touch with them.”
“You’ll have to talk to the manager.”
“Let me guess, you don’t know where he is either.”
“He’s around somewhere. I have work to do.” Gibbs walked past him and out the doors.
Case shook his head, but as he looked down at the floor, he saw footprints and knew he’d have to get back to where the horse had been taken from and get more photos.
He had some on his phone, but he wanted closer shots, then he’d come back and have a talk with Gibbs and Tillman.
He quickly snapped some, but he knew he couldn’t use them without a search warrant.
But he’d compare them. Case looked out the doors when he heard a truck, then saw a man climb out. Case walked outside.
“Did you just come out of there?” the man asked him.
“Yes, I’m Agent Anderson with MDOL. I need to speak to Brent Tillman, and Bobby Gibbs played dumb.”
“He doesn’t have to play,” the man muttered. “I’m Ralph Conrad. The manager here. What can I help you with, Agent?”
“I’m here about a stolen horse. Gibbs is the boyfriend of the girl whose horse was stolen. I’ll be back. I’m getting a search warrant.”
“I haven’t seen any other horses. What kind is it?”
Case smirked. “A Paint.”
The man chuckled. “Well, if he did have anything to do with it, it would be hidden well. You get your search warrant, Agent, and I’ll gladly let you look around. ”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be back. Since I can’t search the barns yet, I’m going back to the Wright ranch and get better shots of the footprints.”
“We’ll be here when you return,” Ralph Conrad said, then entered the barn.
Case climbed into his truck, then drove to Sydney’s ranch.
****
Sydney sat at the kitchen table, the soft glow of her computer screen illuminating stacks of payroll ledgers and invoices.
Beyond the glass, the late afternoon sun spilled golden light across the courtyard, promising freedom she desperately craved.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, closed her eyes for a moment, then reopened them; she had numbers to balance before she could answer the call of wide-open spaces.
With a resigned shake of her head, she dove back into decimal places, reminding herself that the books came first, then the saddle.
Finally, she clicked the ‘save’ button, pushed her chair back, and rose.
She shrugged into her worn cowboy boots.
She swapped her blouse for a T-shirt covered with a soft flannel shirt, pulled on her cowboy hat, and tugged on her jacket before striding out the door.
The barn beckoned, low and earthy-scented in the late-afternoon light.
Inside, shadow and lamplight danced among hay bales and tack racks.
Sydney paused to let her eyes adjust, inhaling the scent of cedar stalls and fresh-cut straw.
In the tack room, she selected her gear, leather reins, polished bit, saddle, and placed her rifle next to the rail.
Then she opened Pharaoh’s stall. The stallion’s dark eyes glimmered as he nudged the half-moon latch with his muzzle.
She ran a hand along his velvety nose; he nibbled at her jacket sleeve, and she laughed.
Pharaoh whinnied softly, a breathy exhale like mist in the cool air.
Billy emerged from the gloom of the far aisle; his calloused hands tucked in his coat pockets. “Goin’ out?” he ventured, his gaze shifting from her boots to the pale sky.
“Just a quick ride,” she replied, giving Pharaoh’s shoulder a gentle pat. “Think I’ll stretch my legs before the snow arrives.”
He nodded towards the jagged line of mountains, already capped in white. “It’s starting to snow.”
“February mood swings,” she grinned. “I won’t stay out long. Just need some air.”
He tipped his hat. “Have you heard anything about the Paint?”
“Not yet,” Sydney admitted, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m hoping he’s still on it.”
“MDOL sticks to their cases,” Billy said, returning to his chores. “Be careful. You got a radio?”
“Right here,” she patted her pocket, then slid the rifle into the sheath hanging on the saddle. “I’ll call if I run into trouble.”
“Good.” He nestled back into the barn’s gloom as she led Pharaoh to the gate.
Outside, the air was crisp, sharp enough to tingle her cheeks as she slipped into the saddle.
It definitely felt like February today. She put her boots into the stirrups and clicked her tongue.
Pharaoh’s ears pricked forward, nostrils flaring in a white swirl of breath.
She eased him into a walk, then nudged him out into the pasture where the grass, frosted at the tips, bowed under the lightly falling snow.
She laughed as the stallion erupted into a canter, the wind tugging at her hat.
At the far fence line, where the horse had been stolen, she slowed.
A lone pickup, its bed dusted with snow, sat idle among leafless trees.
Sydney halted, slid one hand to the rifle’s grip, and eased it free from its sheath.
Pharaoh shifted, huffing, as she raised the rifle to her shoulder, peering through the scope.
A soft grunt made her lower the weapon. Agent Caysen Anderson straightened from his crouch and snapped another photo. His breath puffed in the cold air like a ghostly cloud. She let the rifle slide back into its holder and guided Pharaoh forward until she was close to him.
“Ms. Wright,” he greeted in that rich, deep voice that always caught her off guard.
“Agent Anderson,” she replied, heart fluttering as she dismounted. “What brings you here?”
“Tracking shoe impressions,” he said, glancing at the muddy ruts. “I think I might have something.”
“Are you onto someone?” she asked, probing his expression.
He allowed a slow grin to curve his lips. “Maybe.”
Sydney’s pulse leaped. “So, your official answer is… maybe but not telling.”
He shrugged, eyes glinting. “Yes, ma’am.”
She studied him, then laughed softly, exhaling a plume of frosty air. “You’re not giving anything away yet, are you?”
“I’ll let you know when I can,” he promised, his gaze holding hers.
“Didn’t you get shoe tracks earlier?”
“I did, but I now have something to compare them to.”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing skyward at the gathering clouds. “It’s freezing out here. Where’s your coat?”
He patted the protective vest layered over his shirt. “Keeps me warm for short stints.”
“Suit yourself.” She ran a hand along Pharaoh’s glossy neck. “I love riding in cold weather. Pharaoh rarely gets out.”
“He must behave well for you,” Caysen remarked.
She smiled, fingers lingering on the stallion’s mane. “He’s gentle, just for me. I have him in the palm of my hand.”
“I bet you do.”
Caysen’s admiring nod made her pulse quicken again. She dusted off her gloves. “I’m heading back. If you’d like to warm up before you go, you’re welcome at the house for a cup of coffee to warm you.”
He touched his hat and offered her a slow smile. “I might take you up on that.”
“Good.” Sydney vaulted into the saddle, giving Pharaoh a playful nudge. He surged forward into a brisk trot, lifting his hooves high through the frosty grass as they made their way home beneath a sky brushed with the promise of heavier snow.
After she rode back to the barn, she cooled the horse, put him in his stall, and gave him oats and fresh water.
Sydney quickly made her way to the house and hoped Caysen did stop in for coffee.
“Yeah, then what?”
Entering the house, she quickly removed her hat, coat, and gloves, then headed for the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes.
After pulling on sweatpants and an extra-large T-shirt, she went back to the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee.
When she heard a truck outside, she placed her hand over her belly to try to settle it and not get physically ill.
How in the world did one man make her feel this way?
She pushed the chair back, stood, and walked toward the door.
She peered out the miniblinds on the door’s window and saw him getting out of his truck.
Damn, that man was fine. So good-looking and hot.
“And there’s nothing you can do about it,” she murmured as she opened the door. “Come inside and get warm.”
Caysen nodded, walked up the steps, removed his hat, and wiped his boots on the welcome mat, then motioned for her to go first, then followed her inside.
“Your mama raised you right.” Sydney smiled.
Caysen smirked. “My father raised me and my brothers right. My mother wasn’t around. She took off after I was born.” He hung his hat on a peg next to the door.
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known.”
“Thanks. Please sit down and I’ll make your coffee.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, but didn’t sit down.
Sydney made him a cup of coffee. When she turned to see him still standing, she raised an eyebrow.
“Please, sit down.”
“I will, after you.”
She smiled as she set his cup on the table, sat down, and watched him pull out a chair and sit. He picked up his cup, blew on it, then sipped it.
“That hits the spot. The weather’s gotten colder, and the snow is getting heavier.”
“That’s February for you. It changes from cold to warm just about every day.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Sydney.”
“Alright. Sydney. I’d tell you to call me Case, but I know you won’t.” He grinned.
“True. How old are you?”
“Forty.”
“Why aren’t you married?”
“I have a very busy job.”
“Yes, I suppose you do.”
Caysen tilted his head. “Why aren’t you married?”
Sydney laughed. “Not only do I run this ranch, but I also own a bookstore in town, so I’m busy too. I would like to get married one day. I’m thirty-five and never came close.”
“Some smart man will marry you.” He smiled.
“He’d better come along soon. I’d love to have kids. You mentioned brothers. How many?”
“Two, both older. Deke and Hud.”
“That can’t be their real names.” She grinned.
“Nope. Deacon and Hudson.”
“I like those. Do you all get along?”
Caysen grinned and as Sydney listened, he told her about his brother, Deke, finding out he had a daughter, but everything worked out because Deke and Ava fell in love.
“That’s great. How old is the little girl?”
“She’s two and adorable.”
“Uh, oh. It sounds like one of her uncles is going to spoil her.”
“No doubt there, but Hud is the one taken with her. Anytime he can, he’s holding her.”
“Is he married?”
“No. Just Deke is. I don’t think Hud will ever settle down. ”
“What about you? Do you want to get married?”
Caysen smirked. “You asking?”
Sydney burst out laughing. “What would you have said if I said yes?”
“I’d say we’d have to get to know each other better first.” He picked his cup up and took a drink.
“You know, I’ve never been shy around men, except you for some reason, but if you’re not involved with anyone, maybe once this case is over, we could get to know each other.”
“Why are you shy around me?” Caysen stared into her eyes.
“I’m not really sure.” She shrugged. Go for it! “I think we have chemistry between us and if it’s possible, maybe we can see where it goes.”
Sydney watched as he pushed his chair back, walked to the sink and rinsed the cup out then set it down. He walked to where his hat hung, lifted it off the hook, then looked at her. She held her breath.
“There’s nothing I’d like more. Have a good day, Sydney. We’ll talk soon.” He opened the door, and walked out, closing it softly behind him.
Sydney sat back in her chair and sighed. When he got up and didn’t say anything, she was sure he wasn’t interested, but he was. She smiled as she thought about getting to know him better. He just had to get this case solved first.
“Hurry up, Agent Anderson because there’s nothing I’d like more, either.”