Chapter 17
TRIG
Lainey had been smart enough to bring one of her snowsuits for Ellie to wear.
I probably wouldn’t have let my woman ride off without one and Lainey knew that.
I gave Ellie my helmet and goggles and the two rode off on Lainey’s snowmobile, only after an argument I lost about escorting them.
The sun was out, the storm had definitely passed.
Lainey’s place wasn’t a half mile over the hill and if there was an issue, Lainey had her phone.
If they started to walk back, I’d see them as soon as they started over the rise.
So they went. I grumbled and moped around. The house was quiet without Ellie’s presence. How had it been not even a full two days ago that I didn’t even know she existed? Now, I’d claimed her. She could be pregnant.
She was fucking mine.
I was emptying the dishwasher and contemplating whether I should ride over and take Ellie back from Lainey when a horn honked. I went and looked out the front window, squinting at the brightness. A county snowplow was clearing my driveway. Behind it was Colt’s sheriff SUV.
Shit. Had something happened to Ellie? Someone in the family?
I went to the door and ripped it open, stood on the porch in my sock-covered feet.
The snowplow stopped beside my detached garage, pushing the snow to a tall mound off to the side.
Then it backed up. Abe–a friend of Pops and who drove the town’s snow plow for as long as I could remember–was behind the wheel, gave me a little wave, then left, clearing an even wider path down my driveway on his way out.
Colt parked in front of my house.
He wasn’t alone.
When he stepped out, he took off his sunglasses and gave me a look. One that said he wasn’t happy. That said I needed to be careful. A whole shit ton of other things, but without context I had to wait and find out what they were.
“Everyone’s okay,” he said, easing my mind first thing.
I sighed, gave him a nod. This wasn’t about the family.
The other person climbed out of the passenger seat. Sixty. Wore a shearling coat, brown corduroys and heavy boots. He was lighting a cigarette.
“Not sure if you’ve ever met Lance Mann,” Colt said, tipping his head toward the older man with the smoke, then putting his cowboy hat on.
This was Lance Mann? I knew of him. Everyone knew everything about everyone else in a small town like Devil’s Ditch, including all the bad things. Like Mann himself.
Mann had worked for the city before he was fired for mismanaging funds, which made no sense since his property was huge, meaning he was land rich.
“Mann,” I said, nodding.
Then the back door opened and another shady fucker climbed out. Yeah, real shady. He looked constipated as hell. His outfit screamed expensive outdoor store but I doubted he ever went outside other than to and from a chauffeured car.
“That’s Conrad Trout,” Colt muttered.
Colt gave me a look that said he knew these two were assholes and annoying the shit out of him.
It was a look he gave me and the rest of his brothers often.
Except now, he was here on official business and he had to follow the fucking rules.
No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t punch either one of the men in the nose.
“There’s a stolen car in front of your house,” Mann said, then took a puff of his smoke.
“Heard about that,” I replied.
“Since he reported it stolen, I called him earlier to let him know it had been found,” Colt said. “They’d both been eager enough to force Abe off his planned plowing route to get us over here.”
Meaning they had some serious ants in their pants when it came to that car.
“She had to have come here in the storm,” Mann said.
I frowned. “Who?”
“My daughter. Ellis.” He coughed in the deep way only a hardcore smoker could, from the bottom of his lungs as if he was trying to clear out all that tar.
His… daughter. His daughter? Ellis? Ellie said her last name was Raintree. He was her father? Holy hell.
“No one came to my door during the storm,” I said honestly. Didn’t mean I didn’t carry an unconscious woman through it.
“We need to check the place,” Trout said. “She’s not well.”
“Her being unwell has nothing to do with my property,” I told him. “Isn’t that right, sheriff?”
“There is no probable cause that she’s here,” Colt said.
“His driveway is right by the car!” Mann was going to have a heart attack if he didn’t calm down, waving his arm and flinging ash onto the white snow.
“So is she unwell or is she a thief?” I asked.
Mann’s lips thinned.
“Trig’s my brother,” Colt said, setting his palm on the butt of his service pistol. “If he said no one came to his door during the storm, then I believe him.”
“If she’s not here, then you have nothing to hide,” Mann said.
He didn’t seem the panicked father. He didn’t even seem like he liked her.
He’d called into the police because she’d stolen a car from his ranch, not because she was missing.
He wanted Ellie found, that was for fuckin’ sure, but I wasn’t sure why.
The question was, why was my woman desperate enough to steal a car from his ranch in the first place?
What was she running from? Him? Both these fuckers?
“I don’t have anything to hide, but I’m aware of my rights. How would you like it if I came onto your land and behaved as you are?”
Ellie wasn’t here. Thank fuck. They could search all they wanted. There was no sign of her. No purse. No cell. No clothes–since she was wearing all of them. Except her panties which I had tucked in my jeans pocket. No condoms to show what we’d been up to.
“I’m not leaving until this place is checked,” Trout stated.
Why the hell did this guy also have a stick up his ass about finding Ellie?
Colt sighed, gave me a look.
“Tell me, Trout, why you’re so keen on finding Mann’s daughter?” I asked.
“Because she’s my fiancée and she belongs to me.”