Chapter Four
Case drove back to the Gibbs ranch with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, the memory of Sydney’s perfume, a floral scent still lingering in his senses. The snow-dusted Montana pines blurred past his window as his mind replayed the way her eyes had lit up when she laughed.
The truck’s tires crunched over the gravel as he parked beside the barn. Icy flakes stung his cheeks as he stepped out, his breath forming clouds in the frigid air. Dark storm clouds hovered over the jagged mountain peaks, promising more snow before nightfall.
Inside the barn, the sharp scent of hay and horse manure filled the air. Dust danced in the shafts of weak light filtering through the high windows. His boots echoed on the cement floor as he moved down the center aisle, peering into each empty stall.
“You just can’t stay away, can you?” Bobby’s gravelly voice cut through the stillness. He emerged from the shadows, thumbs hooked in his belt loops, and his eyes narrowed with familiar hostility.
“Get used to it,” Case countered, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline. “When I solve this case, and if you’re involved, I’ll take great pleasure in watching them slam that prison door behind you.”
“Where’s your search warrant, Agent?” Bobby’s eyes narrowed to slits.
Case folded his arms across his chest. “On the way. But in the meantime, I want to talk to Brent Tillman.” He leaned forward slightly. “And don’t tell me he’s not here.”
“He’s here,” Bobby conceded, a smirk spreading across his face. “But he’s out checking the fence line. He’ll be a while.” The smugness in his voice made Case’s hands curl into fists, his knuckles whitening with the effort not to wipe that self-satisfied expression off Bobby’s face.
Case stood with his arms crossed, watching Bobby shift on the cement floor. The scent of hay mingled with the tang of manure and sweat.
“Call him in,” Case said, his voice low but insistent.
Bobby hesitated. “He’s working.”
Case clenched his jaw. “I couldn’t care less. Call him in. Now.”
With a heavy sigh, Bobby pulled his phone from his back pocket and pressed it to his ear, shooting Case a glare that almost made him smile. Case studied the way Bobby’s knuckles whitened around the device, then listened as Bobby spoke.
“I need you to come to the middle barn,” Bobby said into the phone. Case heard a pause, then Bobby added, “It won’t take long. Just get here.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned to Case. “He’s on his way.”
Case nodded. “I need a picture of the bottom of your boots.”
There was a beat of silence. “Fuck no,” Gibbs said with stubbornness and flat refusal.
Case narrowed his eyes, voice cold and steady. “Now, see? That’s where you’re wrong. Once that search warrant arrives, you’ll have to comply. Whether you want to or not.” He shrugged. “Makes no difference to me, but if you don’t cooperate, I’ll personally drag your skinny ass to jail.”
At that moment the low rumble of an engine rolled across the gravel outside.
Case grinned. “Looks like my search warrant is here.” He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see a black pickup skid to a stop.
He watched as Rawley climbed out and stalked through the barn doors, papers clenched in his hand.
“This paper gives us permission to search everything and everyone,” Rawley snapped, shoving the documents toward Gibbs. “Happy now?”
“I’d be happier if you’d get your ass out of my barn,” Gibbs yelled, his eyes hard as flint.
“That’s not very nice,” Rawley said with a smirk as he stared at Gibbs.
“He refuses to give up his boots.” Case watched Rawley grin.
Rawley stepped closer, voice low and menacing. “Take off your boots, or I’ll remove them for you.”
Gibbs’s fists clenched at his sides. “You can try.”
Rawley laughed, a dry, echoing sound amid the rafters. He turned to Case. “What the hell is it with kids? He thinks he’s going to intimidate me.”
Case’s lips quirked. “I bet you’ve got close to a hundred pounds on him, Rawley.”
Gibbs shrugged. “The bigger they are…”
“Try me.” Rawley’s tone was flat. “You’re not the first young buck to test me. The last one who did is in jail.”
Gibbs’s face went hard. “You can’t arrest me.”
Rawley pressed his hand to the badge at his hip. “This badge and this weapon tell me different.” He put his hand on his holstered pistol. “We’re MDOL, sure, but we’re law enforcement. If you want to try either of us, do it. ”
Case folded his arms. For a moment all was silent save for the distant whicker of horses. Then a rider swung down from a black mare.
“That’s Brent,” Gibbs said. “Talk to him, then get the hell off the property.”
Case’s gaze shifted between Gibbs and Tillman. “We’ll go once we finish the search. Now, sit the fuck down and take off your boots,” he ordered. “I just need pictures of the soles. So, unless you’d rather Rawley remove them, I suggest you comply. Both of you.”
Brent Tillman hesitated, eyes darting between Case and Gibbs. “But—”
Case cut him off. “But what? Is there a reason you don’t want us to see your boots?”
Tillman removed his hat and ran a hand through his dusty hair.
“Uh, no…” With a reluctant nod, he eased onto a nearby hay bale, tugging off his boots, and set them on the floor.
Gibbs followed his lead, boots thudding against the floor as he sat.
Dust swirled in the dying light, settling around the two pairs of boots, soles bared for inspection.
Rawley picked up one of Gibbs’s boots and grinned as he looked at Case.
The leather was scuffed and worn, a testament to many days spent trudging through fields.
“For someone who talks big, you sure have little feet,” Rawley said, his voice dripping with mockery, making Case chuckle.
“What size are these? A woman’s size five?
” The boot dangled teasingly from his hand.
Case shook his head, amused. It was never dull being on a case with Rawley, whose sharp wit was just as quick as his investigative skills. He could tell from the tight set of Gibbs’s jaw and the flash in his eyes that Rawley had struck a nerve .
“Just hurry up and give me my boots back,” Gibbs snarled, his voice a low growl of irritation.
Rawley, undeterred, continued to needle him.
“Such a little pair of boots. These could hang from the rearview mirror in my truck,” he said with a sly grin.
“You know what they say about the size of a man’s feet…
” He shrugged nonchalantly, pretending innocence.
“Well, I’m sure you know that firsthand. ”
Gibbs shot him a withering glare. “Fuck you.”
Unfazed, Rawley replied deadpan, “I don’t think you’d be able to, going by the size of these boots.”
When the Tillman kid laughed, Gibbs glared at him. “You need to shut the fuck up.”
“Yeah? Don’t push me, Bobby,” he said as he shifted his eyes between Case and Rawley.
Case and Rawley looked at each other. “I’ll get photos of them if you could hold them up, Rawley.”
Rawley nodded and held each boot up, turning them slightly to catch the light as Case snapped pictures.
The phone’s flash lit up the dim barn, momentarily illuminating the dusty beams and cobwebbed corners.
They’d compare the images to the footprints found in the pasture, seeking any clue that might lead them closer to the truth.
“You can put your boots on. We’re going to search the barns,” Case instructed, his tone now more businesslike.
“You won’t find anything,” Gibbs said, his voice laced with defiance.
“Really?” Rawley walked toward him, squatted down in front of him and picked up one of Gibbs’s boots. “You see this chip on the corner of the heel? That could put you at the scene.” Then he straightened up and stared at Gibbs.
Case watched Gibbs go pale .
“I already told you the horse wasn’t here,” Gibbs shouted.
Case shook his head, skeptical. “And we’re just supposed to believe you?”
“Why would I lie?” Gibbs countered, his eyes narrowing.
“Why wouldn’t you?” Case fired back, then glanced at Rawley. “I’ll take this barn, and you can check one of the other ones, then we’ll both tackle the last one.”
“Alright.” Rawley nodded, as he left the barn, his footsteps echoing on the floor.
“Man, he’s a prick,” Gibbs muttered under his breath, frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.
Case watched him for a moment, then replied, “Rawley isn’t going to back down from anyone, especially someone who looks like a gust of wind would blow him away. Gibbs, you can go back to work. I’m sure I’ll be in touch. Tillman, stick around.”
“I have work to do.”
“It’ll wait. Sit down.” Case glared at him until he sat down again on the bale of hay.
As Case watched, Gibbs slipped through the back doors, the sunlight spilling in as they swung open, then he looked at Tillman.
“Is there something you want to tell me?”
“Me?”
“Do you see anyone else around?”
“Uh, no. I don’t have anything to say.”
Case crouched in front of him. “You’d better think long and hard about it because the first one to talk will get a deal. If no one talks and I find out you and Gibbs took that horse, you’ll both go down for it.”
When Tillman didn’t say anything, Case sighed as he stood. “Get back to work. I’ll be in touch. ”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, just so you know. I don’t give up. I will find out what happened to that horse and if it’s hurt in any way, and you’re involved, I’ll make sure you get the full penalty for animal cruelty along with horse theft.”
Tillman walked to his horse, the animal’s dark coat gleaming in the light, as he mounted it, and rode out of the barn, leaving Case alone in the dim interior.
The barn was spacious and cluttered, filled with the earthy scents of hay and leather.
He pulled his flashlight from his pocket, its beam cutting through the shadows as he began his search for any evidence that Sydney’s horse had been there.
It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, the task daunting yet necessary.
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