Chapter 26 #2
There were too damn many questions. Dillon was tired of them.
She wanted some answers. She pivoted and stalked to the office and one of two five-drawer filing cabinets in the corner.
Metal squealed when she pulled open a drawer, causing her to flinch.
The metal filing cabinets were old, but they did their job.
After Dolly’s death, Dillon had been a bit overwhelmed with where to begin on the ranch.
She had divided her time between her duties outside and inside, but she’d soon found that things were much easier when she was with the horses and cattle.
Sorting through Dolly’s books, files, notes, and documents on the computer was something Dillon was still doing, a year later.
Her priority had been keeping up with the accounting, and while she continued to use the CPA Dolly had chosen, Dillon was in charge of the household and ranch bills.
Her aunt had kept detailed records, which made it easy for Dillon to step right in.
However neat and orderly Dolly may have been, she had a habit of keeping everything.
Dillon had recycled hundreds of old magazines and newspapers that Dolly had never thrown out. As time allowed, Dillon had been going through cabinets, boxes, and such that held any papers. Anything to do with the ranch had been kept. Dillon had even kept receipts, just in case.
She recalled scanning the documents in the filing cabinet one time and seeing a file labeled LAND RIGHTS. Dillon pulled open drawer after drawer but couldn’t locate the file. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach as she slowly closed the last drawer.
Just to be sure she hadn’t overlooked it, she went through the two cabinets again—and came up empty just as before.
Dillon was sure the file had been there. With the knot growing by the minute, she spent the next thirty minutes looking through everything in the office to find it. Only when she was certain it was gone did she reach for her phone and call her lawyer in Dallas.
Les Ackers answered quickly, his Texas accent smooth and cheery. “Hi, Dillon. What can I do for you?”
“Land rights to the Bar 4. Do you have a copy of those?”
“I should. Let me see . . .”
Dillon heard papers shuffling in the background. Then keys pressed on a keyboard.
“Is everything okay?” Les asked, worry beginning to darken his voice.
Dillon licked her dry lips. “I don’t know.”
“Do I need to be concerned?”
“I don’t know.”
“That statement doesn’t make me feel better about this call.”
Dillon drew in a breath. “Do you have copies of the rights?”
“I do.”
“Can you send a scanned copy to me immediately?”
“One sec,” Les said. He covered the phone and called for his administrative assistant to give her details before getting back on the phone. “Okay. Tell me everything.”
Dillon rubbed her forehead. One of the things she liked about Les was that he was respected among his peers and was there for his clients completely.
He might only be in his mid-thirties, but he was one of the most sought-after attorneys in Dallas.
“It’s going to take a while, so get comfortable and take notes. ”
Twenty-six minutes later, Les let out a long sigh. “Shit. What the hell are you still doing at the ranch? Leave. Immediately. Forget the damn horse. Your life is more important.”
“This is my home.”
“That you won’t have if these assholes succeed in killing you,” he stated bluntly. “You should have those land records. Please tell me you have them.”
Dillon propped her elbows on the desk and dropped her head into one hand as she held the phone with the other. “I can’t find them.”
“Has someone been in the house?”
“You mean has anyone broken in? No. Have I had people here? Yes. Because of the shooting. I also leave the house unlocked during the day while I’m working. Anyone who works for me has access.”
“But you can’t find the deeds you’ve seen, which leads me to believe that someone took them.”
Dillon squeezed her eyes shut. Only three people had access to the house other than her—Emmett, Dusty . . . and Cal. It was possible that a stranger could’ve stolen them. She had been shot at, after all. But her instincts told her that it was someone she knew.
“I think I should come down there,” Les said.
She sat up straight and opened her eyes. “I told you what a tangle things are. How will your arrival make it better?”
“It’d be someone else looking out for you. You need people you can trust.”
Dillon thought she had people she could trust. Now, she wasn’t so sure. Her heart was already tumbling headlong for Cal. Unfortunately, he was the only new addition to the ranch. And had come on at the same time the deeds had gone missing.
Was he a part of this?
Had his arrival been planned?
Was he here specifically to make it look as if he’d saved her so that she would trust him?
Every question made her stomach sour even more.
“You should have an email with the deed to the land.” Les’s voice broke into her thoughts.
She checked and found an email from Les. After she clicked on the attachments, she looked over the documents. “I own the land and mineral rights.”
“That’s right. Your aunt got the mineral rights to the Bar 4 about five years ago.”
Dillon slowly sat back in the chair. “I know Dolly kept the same CPA, but she changed lawyers a few times. Most I’ve found have either been in Dallas or Houston. How would I find if she had used someone local?”
“Let me do some digging. I’ll be back in touch.”
“Les,” she said before he could hang up, “if something happens to me, can you do anything to make sure that Hank Stephens and Isaac Gomez can’t get their hands on the ranch?”
He sighed. “Regrettably, no. Once the beneficiaries of your will take over, it’s out of my hands.”
“Then let’s change my will. I want you to have the land.”
“Whoa. Hold on. Why would you do that?”
Dillon glanced out her window when she saw movement. Her gaze landed on Cal, who positioned a ladder to install a camera. “Whatever is here is apparently worth killing for. I don’t want them getting their hands on it.”
“Give me fifteen and I’ll send over the amended last will and testament. I don’t like this, Dillon. Any of it.”
“Me, neither, but until I can figure out what they want to kill me for, I’ve got to take steps.”
“Your steps should include getting your ass out of town,” he retorted.
Dillon couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Les. I’ll get the revised will back to you immediately.”
When the call disconnected, Dillon waited at the computer for the document to hit her inbox.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had looked at the land records in the filing cabinet.
It had been months—possibly a year, at least. Someone could’ve come in at any time and taken them. It might not have been Cal.
But what if it was?
Her heart didn’t want to think about what that meant. So, she pulled up the land documents again and printed them out. As she studied them, she saw a law firm in Dallas in the header.
Dillon quickly placed the call. After explaining who she was and what she was looking at, they connected her to a Walter Jessup. He answered with a slight quaver in his voice, pronouncing him as an older gentleman.
“Mr. Jessup, my name is Dillon Young. I inherited land from my aunt, Dolly Young.”
Walter chuckled. “Ah, Dolly. She was certainly something. Kept me on my toes.”
“She did that with everyone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that she passed. Do you mind if I ask when it happened?”
“A little over a year ago.”
Walter made a grunting sound. “How?”
“The coroner listed it as natural causes. They believe she had a heart attack.”
Leather creaked through the phone. “I see.”
Something in his tone bothered Dillon. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s probably nothing. What can I do for you, Ms. Young?”
“Dillon, please. I wanted to know about the mineral rights my aunt got. The land has been in the family for generations. Why did she suddenly decide to make sure the rights were in her name?”
“You must not have seen the mineral surveys.”
“What surveys?”
Leather creaked again. “Give me your email. I’ll have them sent to you.”