Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
Reid
The low hum of the surveillance system fills the room, and I lean back in the creaky chair, scrolling through the grainy footage on the screen.
Each frame flickers, showing bits and pieces of the property, the far corners of High Ridge that don’t quite appear to be touched by time. They’re just… there.
I’ve been going through the footage for the better part of the morning, and it’s just more of the same…. nothing suspicious, nothing new.
How the hell are we going to put an end to this if I can’t find anything?
Frustration starts to churn in my gut. The system’s good, but not great.
It’s the kind you get when you don’t have a million-dollar budget or a tech-savvy team. But we need something more than just these blurry frames to catch whoever it is in the act.
I drag my hand down my face, a sigh escaping me, when it hits me.
I need something better. I need something that can actually see.
That’s when it clicks: Cody Harlan.
He’s got the tech skills that make it seem like the rest of us are still using smoke signals to communicate. I’ve seen him organize some pretty high-tech setups over at Ironwood.
They’ve got equipment that would blow this basic system out of the water. If anyone can help us catch the culprit in the act, it’s Cody.
I don’t even think twice before grabbing my jacket and heading out the door. I know my friend will help us out. No doubt about it.
I just can’t believe I didn’t think about this earlier.
Idiot.
When I pull up to Ironwood, the Harlan’s ranch is peaceful, as always. The grass is cut to perfection, the barn is organized, and there’s not a piece of equipment out of place.
It’s the kind of place that looks more like a museum than a working ranch. But that’s the Harlan brothers for you. They prefer things to be efficient. No room for clutter.
Which is why I’m hoping they can help me now.
I knock on the door, and after a moment, Cody answers, looking as though he’s been interrupted mid-thought. His glasses are perched on the end of his nose, and he’s got that typical “not impressed” look on his face.
“You lost?” Cody says without looking up.
“Nah,” I grin, dropping into the chair by his workbench. “Need a favor.”
He finally looks at me, looking annoyed by my very existence. “This had better be good. You interrupt my spreadsheet zen for a reason?”
“Your surveillance setup.” I keep it simple. “Can I borrow it?”
Cody’s eyebrow climbs so high it’s practically doing cartwheels. “Why? You trying to become Big Brother, Reid?”
“Hardly.” I waggle my fingers. “I don’t know if you’ve heard the gossip recently, but someone has been sniffing around like a raccoon with a mortgage. We’ve been having a lot of issues, and I need to put an end to it before it gets out of control.”
Cody’s face goes from mildly curious to annoyed but intrigued in about two seconds flat. He narrows his eyes, doing the Cody math. “And your cameras are no good?”
“Not good enough. I haven’t managed to capture anything yet.”
Cody taps a ruler against the bench, considering. “And what’s in it for me? Besides the obvious thrill of helping my favorite idiot?”
“Eternal gratitude,” I say. “Also,” I hand him the box in my hands, “donuts. And I’ll never leave my muddy boots in your tidy hallway. Again.”
That gets a snort. Cody rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches. “Oooh, these are the good donuts.”
He stands, shoves his glasses up properly, and starts grabbing cables before I can say thanks.
“Fine. But you break one camera, and I will personally make you watch the entire roll of footage from the Colter Creek Rodeo of ’09. Twice.”
“You monster,” I say, mock-horror. “I’ll sign anything you want. Cable tie me to the fence if it makes you feel better.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Also, and listen to me, no livestreaming to conspiracy forums. No heroic night vision vigilante nonsense. Keep it clean. And don’t let Clint near the encryption keys. He can be clumsy at the best of times…”
“Clint won’t go anywhere near it,” I reassure him. “I’ll do it all myself.”
Cody gives that half-grin he hates showing. “Good. Because if Clint gets his hands on my config, I will uninstall his sense of humor.”
I nod. “No problem.”
“Alright,” he mutters, hooking a camera mount to a strap, “you owe me more than donuts. You owe me lunch. And if you do something stupid, I’m calling you out in front of the whole ranch. Public humiliation is on the table.”
“I’ll take that.” I stand, slinging the bag of gear over my shoulder. “You’re the best, C-dog.”
Cody’s glare sharpens at the nickname. “Don’t call me that,” he says flatly.
“Sure thing, C-dog,” I shoot back, because obviously I want to live dangerously.
He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “idiot” and turns toward the back of the barn. I follow, trying not to grin too hard, because I know what’s coming next. The cavalry.
Silas is already there, leaning against the open truck bay with a smirk playing on his lips. He’s got that quiet, stoic thing going, arms crossed, one brow raised.
Duke’s the opposite, perched on a toolbox, halfway through a cookie, the human embodiment of sunshine and poor impulse control.
“What’d you drag us into this time?” Duke asks, crumbs falling down his shirt. “Please tell me this isn’t another one of your ‘we’ll just borrow it’ missions.”
“Technically,” I say, holding up a finger, “we’re borrowing with permission.”
Cody snorts. “Conditional permission. Remember, I have rules.”
I throw my hands in the air, surrendering. “I know, I know. You were very clear.”
Silas shakes his head, but he’s smiling now, the kind of small grin that makes you think he secretly enjoys the madness. “Let’s just get it loaded up before one of you actually breaks something.”
We pile into the truck. Cody driving, me riding shotgun, and Duke and Silas in the back seat with the gear stacked between them. I leave my truck behind without a second thought. Right now, sticking together feels like the smarter call.
The drive to High Ridge takes about twenty minutes, long enough for the banter to loosen everyone up. Especially when I fill Duke and Silas in on what’s been happening.
“So,” Duke says, kicking his boots up, “who do we think’s behind all this sabotage? My money’s on Buck, but I don’t know… feels too clean for him.”
“Too clean?” I glance at him in the rearview. “You’ve met the guy, right? He wears loafers to cattle auctions.”
“Exactly,” Duke says. “He doesn’t get his own hands dirty. He hires people to do it.”
Silas nods slowly. “Could be someone working for him. Someone local. Knows the layout.”
“Yeah,” I say, thinking it through. “Every time something’s happened, it’s been fast. Precise. No sign of tracks, no tire marks. It’s someone who knows what they’re doing.”
“Just don’t underestimate him. Guys like Buck don’t build empires by accident.”
Duke leans forward between the seats. “Well, then it’s a good thing he’s dealing with a group of stubborn idiots who don’t know how to quit.”
I grin. “Now that’s the spirit.”
“Stubborn idiots,” Cody repeats under his breath, almost fondly. “Yeah, that tracks.”
The truck rumbles up the familiar path toward High Ridge. The sight of the ranch hits me right in the chest.
This isn’t just land. It’s home.
And some wealthy landowner shouldn’t get to mess with our home just for profit.
Silas must see the look on my face because he says quietly, “We’ll get him, you know. Whoever it is.”
“Yeah,” I say, tightening my grip on the wheel. “We will.”
Cody glances over at the monitor bag between his feet and gives a curt nod. “Let’s wire this place up. Time to see what the hell’s really going on around here.”
And just like that, the plan’s in motion—four guys, one truck, a few cameras, and a shared determination to protect.