Chapter 13
The next few days settled into an uneasy routine. Heather continued her training sessions at the ranch while Joe worked with the FBI to monitor Richards' movements. The waiting felt like a taut wire, ready to snap at any moment.
People in town were starting to bring their animals to Lyle so he was staying busy caring for the various dogs, sheep, and a very saucy pot-bellied pig.
It was a wonder he could get anything done.
Every time a vehicle showed up in the driveway, they all went on high alert and Lyle was at her side until he’d determined the level of danger.
Heather was getting a really good taste of the personalities of highly trained military guys. She was a little in awe.
She gathered together Bennie’s belongings when she saw the familiar SUV park next to the barn.
“It’s Jerry,” she said to Lyle, who was now standing so close she could barely get Bennie’s crate open.
“You’ve seen him here. He’s Bennie’s owner.
He works with the National Disaster Search Dog Foundation. ”
“Ah. Bennie’s graduating?”
“Yes. I’ve been working with both Jerry and Benny for the past year, and this sweet Labrador is definitely ready for service work. I’m so proud of him.”
“Hey, Heather,” Jerry said, kneeling down to ruffle Bennie’s ears and give the big dog a hug. “My boy’s ready, huh?”
“More than ready. I think I’ve been keeping him because I’ve fallen in love.”
“I know the feeling. I miss him like crazy when he’s with you. I can’t wait to have him with me all the time now.”
“Remember, he’s got a job to do. You both do. So, don’t spoil him.”
Jerry laughed and gave Heather a hug. “Only a little. I promise.”
Heather bent down to hug the dog. “You be a good boy, now. Save lots of people, you hear? Do it for me. And for Becky,” she whispered, burying her face in the Lab’s soft black fur.
She stood and didn’t bother to brush the hair off her face as the wind blew it. Pride and sadness swamped her as she watched Jerry load Bennie into his SUV and drive away.
Lyle bumped her shoulder. “Softie.”
She gave a watery laugh and he wiped the moisture from her cheeks. “I told you I always cry when they leave.”
“You do good work, Heather. One of these days we’ll probably see Bennie in the news saving the day. Giving hope.”
“That’s why I do it.”
“That, and the fact that you adore dogs.”
“True. Speaking of adoring, you need any help with that cute little pig I saw you chasing around the barn a while ago?”
“I hate to admit it, but… Maybe?”
Heather laughed. “Come on. I could use the distraction.”
It was two days later when Darren Richards finally called.
Heather was working with a client's German Shepherd when her phone buzzed. She recognized the number immediately and caught Lyle's eye across the training yard, holding up her phone and pointing to it. He nodded, remembering the FBI's instructions about keeping Richards engaged.
"Hello?" she answered, keeping her voice neutral.
"Ms. Prescott." Richards' smooth tone sent a chill down her spine. "I hope you've had time to reconsider my offer."
"I've been thinking about it," she said carefully. "But I'm not sure I understand what you're really proposing."
"Why don't we discuss it in person? Say, tomorrow at the Waverly property? I'd love to show you our vision for the place."
Heather's pulse quickened. This was exactly what the agents had predicted. "You mean the property you’re trying to buy out from under me? I have my own visions, Darren.”
“I’m sure you do. But think about what we could do if we put our heads together?”
“I’m willing to hear you out, but that’s all I’m promising.” She heard him laugh and her stomach clenched. She wasn’t one who tended toward violence, but had he been standing in front of her, she might have slapped him. And felt really good about it. “What time do you want to meet?"
"Two o'clock? Bring your realtor if you'd like. Make it official."
"I'll think about it."
"Don't think too long, Ms. Prescott. Opportunities like this don't come around often. I’d hate for you to stand too long on that independent streak and end up being sorry."
He’d already hung up by the time Lyle reached her side. He had Joe on speaker, holding out his phone so his brother could hear their conversation. "What did he say?"
She relayed the conversation while Joe called Agent Martinez. Within minutes, they had a plan in place.
"We'll have agents in position," Martinez assured them during a hasty conference call. "But you'll need to keep him talking long enough for us to gather evidence of the connection between him and McGowen."
"And if Bret shows up?" Heather couldn't quite keep the tremor from her voice.
"We'll be ready," the agent promised. "Just stick to the script we discussed."
Later that afternoon, Heather sat with Lyle on the front porch, watching Charlotte play with the puppies in the yard. The little girl's laughter carried across the space, a reminder of everything that was at stake.
"I don't like this," Lyle said quietly. "Using you as bait."
"We need to end this, whatever it is," Heather replied. "I won't live in fear anymore."
He reached for her hand, his grip warm and steady. "I know. Just... be careful tomorrow, okay?"
"I will be. Besides, I'll have the best backup team in Texas." She bumped his shoulder playfully, trying to lighten the mood.
"Uncle Lyle!" Charlotte's voice interrupted them. "Come quick! Pepper found something!"
They both stood, heading toward where Charlotte stood near the edge of the training yard. The black and white puppy was pawing at something half-buried in the dirt.
Lyle crouched down, gently moving Pepper aside. His expression darkened as he brushed away the soil.
"What is it?" Heather asked.
He held up a small electronic device, no bigger than a quarter. "A listening bug."
Heather's blood ran cold. “Why would the FBI have a listening device by our barn?” It barely registered with her that she’d claimed Lyle’s barn as theirs.
“This isn’t federal equipment, Heather.”
"You mean…has Darren Richards been monitoring us?"
"Joe!" Lyle called sharply. Within moments, his brother appeared, took one look at the device, and pulled out his phone.
"Agent Martinez? We've got a situation."
The rest of the afternoon was a blur of FBI technicians sweeping the property while Joe reviewed security footage. They found three more listening devices—one near the barn, one by Heather's cabin, and one alongside the main house.
"They've probably heard everything," Heather said, pacing the kitchen while Charlotte played upstairs with the puppies. "They'll know we're working with the FBI."
"Maybe not," Joe said. "The devices look cheap, short-range. They'd need to be nearby to pick up anything."
"Which means they've been watching the ranch," Kenny added grimly.
"Change of plans," Agent Martinez announced, hanging up her phone. "We move tonight. Mr. Richards just booked a flight to Mexico for tomorrow evening. Ms. Prescott, are you ready to make another call?"
Heather nodded, her heart racing but her voice steady as she dialed Richards' number again. "Mr. Richards? About tomorrow... I've got a conflict with a client. Could we meet this afternoon instead? I'd like to get this settled."
There was a pause, then, "Today? Well, I suppose... shall we say five thirty? We’ll still have plenty of daylight left."
"Perfect."
After she hung up, Lyle pulled her into his arms. "I don't like this. It's too rushed."
"It's our best chance," Martinez said. "We'll have the place surrounded. Nothing will happen to her."
Thick, cumulus clouds gathered over the horizon as Heather made her way toward the Waverly property, a creeping unease coiling in her stomach.
Her heart raced, but she pushed the fear back, reminding herself of the stakes.
Each breath she took was underpinned by the knowledge that she was no longer alone in this fight, that she had the Watkins brothers and the FBI backing her.
As she approached the run-down estate, the silhouette of Darren Richards emerged from his sleek black SUV, his demeanor smooth and rehearsed as always. She steeled herself, meeting his piercing gaze as she got out of the Jeep and joined him on the porch.
"Ms. Prescott," he greeted, his smile devoid of warmth. "Glad you could make it. I trust you’re ready to reconsider my offer?"
"Let's skip the formalities, Darren," Heather replied, her voice steady, but inside, doubt fought to surface. "I know what you're really after. And it's not just a business partnership."
Richards glanced around, ensuring they were alone before leaning closer.
"You’re right, of course. But let’s be honest here.
You’re not exactly in a position to dictate terms. We both know I’m not going anywhere without that property and there's no way you can outbid me. I can hire more staff than you have the funds for and create a training facility you won't be able to compete with. You don’t want to make an enemy out of me.”
Her skin pricked despite the tension thrumming in the air. "Your attempts to intimidate me won’t work.”
“Intimidate?” He chuckled darkly. “Hardly. I’m merely facilitating progress, darling. This town is holding you back—holding all of us back.”
Heather felt the blood drain from her face. “This isn't about progress, Darren. You’re looking to bulldoze dreams.”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Some dreams aren’t worth preserving, Ms. Prescott. You need to know when to step aside."
As his voice lulled into a deeper tone, Heather’s instincts kicked in.
Someone had to provoke him enough to spill a crucial detail.
“What’s stopping you from leaving this behind?
Perhaps you have something in common with my ex-husband, Bret.
Doesn’t he have interests in making sure I don’t get this property? ”