Chapter 13 Sabotage
Destroyed
Eli woke before sunrise to the sound of someone pounding on the front door of the garage apartment.
The frantic knocking echoed through the old building, pulling him from a restless sleep.
Rosa was already awake.
She stepped into the hallway tying the belt of her robe, her expression immediately tense.
“Who on earth is here this early?”
“I’ll check.”
Eli hurried downstairs, unlocking the office door just as another series of loud knocks rattled the glass.
Sam Cooper stood outside.
His hat was missing, his jeans were streaked with mud, and his normally calm face carried an urgency Eli had never seen before.
The moment the door opened, Sam spoke.
“You need to come with me.”
Eli frowned.
“What happened?”
“It’s the ranch.”
“Is everyone alright?”
“The people are.”
“The equipment isn’t.”
Without wasting another second, Eli grabbed his boots and truck keys.
The drive to Harlan Ranch felt unusually quiet.
Sam barely spoke, keeping both hands tight on the steering wheel.
Only when the blackened silhouette of the equipment shed appeared ahead did Eli finally understand why.
Several sheriff’s vehicles were already parked outside.
Yellow tape stretched around the machinery yard.
Ranch hands stood in small groups speaking in hushed voices.
Something terrible had happened.
Eli climbed out of the truck and immediately noticed one of the ranch tractors.
Its engine compartment had been ripped apart.
Hydraulic hoses hung loose beneath the frame.
Fresh oil covered the ground like dark pools of water.
Nearby, the ranch’s largest hay baler sat with shattered windows and cut electrical wiring.
Another truck had all four tires slashed.
The damage wasn’t random.
Someone had known exactly where to strike.
“What happened?”
Sam let out a tired breath.
“Sometime after midnight.”
“We found everything like this before sunrise.”
Eli walked slowly around the damaged equipment.
None of this looked like ordinary vandalism.
The cuts were clean.
The wiring had been removed carefully instead of torn apart.
The damage would cost thousands of dollars to repair.
Whoever had done this understood machinery.
Jax emerged from the equipment shed, still moving carefully because of his recent injuries.
The moment he saw Eli, relief crossed his face.
“I’m glad you came.”
“I came as soon as Sam called.”
Jax looked exhausted.
“We’ve lost half the equipment needed for next week’s cattle shipment.”
Eli crouched beside the damaged tractor.
“This wasn’t done by amateurs.”
“No.”
“It was planned.”
He examined the hydraulic lines more closely.
“They used professional cutting tools.”
Jax nodded.
“The sheriff said something similar.”
Eli stood.
“I can repair most of it.”
“It’ll take time.”
“And money.”
“We’ll figure that part out.”
Before either man could continue, raised voices echoed from the far side of the yard.
Two deputies had discovered something near the fence.
Sheriff Tom Henderson walked toward them carrying a clear evidence bag.
Inside rested a grease-stained shop rag.
Printed across one corner in faded blue letters were the words:
NAVARRO AUTO REPAIR
Eli stared at it.
His stomach dropped.
“That’s impossible.”
The sheriff remained expressionless.
“We found it beside the damaged baler.”
“It isn’t mine.”
“It has my shop’s name on it.”
“I know.”
“I haven’t used rags like that in years.”
Jax immediately stepped forward.
“Someone planted it.”
Sheriff Henderson looked between them.
“Maybe.”
“But I still have to investigate.”
Another deputy approached carrying a small metal toolbox.
“This was hidden behind the storage shed.”
Eli recognized it instantly.
It looked almost identical to the portable toolboxes mechanics throughout the county carried.
The side had been scratched badly.
Across the lid, however, one sticker remained untouched.
Navarro Auto Repair
Rosa had ordered those stickers years earlier.
His pulse quickened.
“I’ve never seen that toolbox before.”
The sheriff studied him carefully.
“You’re certain?”
“Absolutely.”
“It isn’t mine.”
Jax looked at the sheriff.
“You know Eli.”
“I do.”
“He wouldn’t do this.”
Sheriff Henderson sighed heavily.
“Jax...”
“You’ve known me since I was a kid.”
“I know.”
“And you’ve known Eli his whole life.”
“I have.”
“So you know this doesn’t make sense.”
The sheriff looked toward the damaged machinery.
“No.”
“It doesn’t.”
“But evidence doesn’t disappear because I don’t like where it points.”
Word spread through the ranch surprisingly fast.
By the time the deputies finished photographing the scene, several neighboring ranchers had already arrived.
Some whispered quietly among themselves.
Others stared openly at Eli.
Their expressions carried something he hadn’t seen directed toward him before.
Suspicion.
One man shook his head as he walked past.
“I knew trusting a Navarro was a mistake.”
Another answered loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear.
“Guess the old stories were true after all.”
Sam immediately stepped between them.
“That’s enough.”
“We don’t know anything yet.”
The men walked away without replying.
The damage, however, had already been done.
Rumors moved faster than facts.
They always had.
Eli remained beside the ruined tractor, trying to make sense of everything.
The planted evidence.
The professional sabotage.
The perfect timing.
Only yesterday he and Jax had uncovered proof that someone had manipulated both families decades earlier.
Now someone wanted suspicion pointed directly at him.
The coincidence felt impossible to ignore.
Jax quietly joined him.
“This is connected.”
“I think so too.”
“They know we’re looking.”
Eli nodded.
“They’re trying to stop us.”
Before they could say more, Sheriff Henderson approached again.
His expression had grown noticeably more uncomfortable.
“Eli.”
“Yeah?”
“I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Here?”
“I’d rather do it privately.”
The sheriff led him toward one of the patrol vehicles parked near the barn.
He didn’t place Eli in handcuffs.
He didn’t even close the car door.
Still, every pair of eyes on the ranch followed them.
The questions were routine.
Where had Eli been the previous evening?
Who could confirm it?
Had anyone borrowed tools from the garage recently?
Did he recognize the toolbox?
Had he argued with anyone connected to Harlan Ranch?
Eli answered each question calmly.
He had spent the evening at the garage with Rosa.
Neither the toolbox nor the shop rag belonged to him.
He had no reason to destroy equipment belonging to one of his largest customers.
The sheriff wrote everything down.
Finally he closed his notebook.
“I believe you.”
Eli looked at him.
“Then why does this feel like an interrogation?”
“Because someone wanted it to.”
The sheriff lowered his voice.
“I can’t ignore physical evidence.”
“I know.”
“But I also can’t ignore my instincts.”
“What do they tell you?”
“They tell me somebody is working very hard to make this look like your fault.”
He slipped the notebook into his pocket.
“Unfortunately, instincts don’t hold up in court.”
By the time Eli left the patrol vehicle, more people had gathered outside the machinery yard.
Conversations stopped the moment he appeared.
Several people looked away.
Others didn’t bother hiding their distrust.
One woman quietly pulled her teenage son a little closer as Eli walked past.
The gesture hurt far more than the sheriff’s questions.
For years he had worked to rebuild both the garage and his family’s reputation.
One morning was all it had taken for many people to forget every honest repair, every late-night rescue, every favor freely given.
To them, he was no longer Eli Navarro.
He was simply a Navarro again.
And in Red Hollow, that was enough for many people to assume the worst.
As he climbed into his service truck, Eli caught Jax watching from across the yard.
Unlike everyone else, there wasn’t a trace of doubt in his eyes.
Only determination.
Whatever force had reignited the feud had underestimated one thing.
This time, at least one Harlan refused to believe the lies.
Standing Alone
By the following morning, the sabotage had become the only thing anyone in Red Hollow wanted to talk about.
The diner buzzed with speculation.
The feed store echoed with whispered accusations.
Church parking lots, grocery aisles, and gas pumps all hosted the same conversation.
Some people were convinced Eli Navarro had finally revealed his true character.
Others believed the old feud had simply returned to where it had always belonged.
Very few people questioned whether the evidence had appeared a little too conveniently.
Jax listened to enough of those conversations to realize something unsettling.
People weren’t searching for the truth.
They were searching for confirmation of what they had already chosen to believe.
He spent most of the morning walking through the damaged equipment yard with a notebook in one hand and aching ribs reminding him that he should still be recovering.
His mother stepped out onto the porch carrying a cup of coffee.
“You should be inside.”
“I’ve spent enough time inside.”
“The doctor disagrees.”
“The doctor isn’t looking at forty thousand dollars’ worth of damaged equipment.”
She handed him the coffee anyway.
“You barely slept.”
“I know.”
“Neither did I.”
She looked across the yard where mechanics from neighboring ranches inspected the damaged machines.
“I heard they questioned Eli.”
“They did.”
“And?”
“They let him go.”
She hesitated.
“Do you believe him?”
Jax looked up, surprised that she had even asked.
“I don’t just believe him.”
“I know he didn’t do it.”
She studied his face for a long moment.
“You’re certain.”
“Completely.”
“What makes you so sure?”
He thought about the wildfire.
The hospital.
The journals spread across the workbench.
The countless small moments that had slowly revealed Eli’s character.
Finally he answered.
“Because I know the man.”
His mother nodded slowly.
“Then don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”
Before Jax could reply, Harold Benson’s truck rolled into the yard.
The board chairman climbed out carrying another folder beneath his arm.