Chapter 52
“That’s the last of them,” Marshall announced, slapping the door of the trailer as he finished loading up the steers he purchased in the auction.
He probably should have skipped the auction, but the morning drive helped clear his thoughts.
It was a necessary reprieve from everything that was going on at the ranch.
To have a day of focusing on the ranch, buying cattle, and hanging out with his rancher buddies he hadn’t seen in a long time.
Overall, it had been a great day.
Now, he looked forward to a long drive to his home and his bed.
It would be a slow, careful drive with his new purchases.
He was always nervous driving with the trailer, but if he took it easy, they should all get back to the ranch in one piece.
Evan was waiting for him, going through the evening list of jobs with the ranch hands and supervising.
Tossing his phone on the back seat, he sat in the driver’s side and started up the truck, eager to get on the road.
The sooner he started driving, the sooner this day would be over.
The drive had done little to quell his thoughts about Jack and Agnes.
He gritted his teeth nervously as the reality of what was going on at the ranch ate at him.
His gut told him that it was all related. Jack and Agnes. Agnes and Jack.
One was spying on him and ended up murdered.
The other had discovered that someone was tampering with the finances and had disappeared.
This case was going way over his head, and he needed to call the police first thing in the morning and open the case on Agnes’s disappearance.
Since there was so little crime in the area, police forces were spread thin and simply didn’t have enough officers to investigate every suspicion thoroughly.
Marshall would make them listen. There were too many coincidences.
He worried about the ranch hands, regardless of how tough the guys were.
The ranch was forever changed, and not in a good way.
He was locking his doors at night. Well, when he remembered to.
It was a necessity until the killer was caught.
There was no telling when he would stop.
After a solid hour of driving and a stunning prairie sunset, Marshall tapped on his truck radio that he had silenced while he ruminated.
He craved his home, his bed. It had been a long day.
His thoughts were too loud, his mind in need of quiet after the constant noise of the auction.
The buzzing of voices, the shouting of the auctioneer, and the sounds of the cattle over everything. It was overwhelming.
He pressed the phone icon on the truck screen, the information popping up before his eyes.
Damn.
Marshall had missed a bunch of calls from Colette. Glancing at the time, he determined that he had about thirty minutes of driving left. He would call her when he got home.
It would take a long time to unload the cattle and have them settled for the night. Maybe he should call her now. Tapping on the Messages icon, he saw that she had left him a bunch of texts.
Alarm bells began to ring in his head. She had found something. Of course, she had. Colette was intelligent and determined. He knew it would only be a matter of time.
His heart stopped in his chest as he read the last message, his eyes moving between the road and the screen.
Colette: I’ve figured out who has been stealing money from the ranch. I’m coming to meet with you. We need to talk
She was going to the ranch, and he wasn’t there?
Fuck.
His foot pressed on the accelerator. Just a little faster. He needed to get to her. What if she was in danger? He would never forgive himself if anything happened to her. The message was from a while ago; maybe she had arrived.
He pressed on her number, and the phone rang twice before she picked up.
“Marshall! Help me,” her voice, the tone alarmingly high. “He’s here, your—”
A muffled sound, like the phone smashing on the ground, made him sit up in his seat.
“Colette!” he called out, but no sound came in response. Voices, he could hear voices—hers, and a man’s. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
She was calling out for help, and Marshall wasn’t there.
Slamming a fist on the steering wheel, Marshall figured he had about twenty more minutes until he got home.
Fuck.
What if he was too late? He didn’t dare hang up, in case she needed him.
The call was their lifeline, and it was all he could do to listen.
He was terrified of what would happen if he hung up.
A painful cry came from Colette, then a scuffle.
Silence, then a weak moan. He bellowed her name in the cab of the truck, but no answer came.
Chills coursed through his body as he swore.
How fast could he drive to get home with a trailer full of cattle? He was about to find out.
Somewhere in the background, Colette made an agonizing sound.
Then, silence.
The call disconnected.
What the hell did that mean?
Marshall dialed her number and growled as it went to voicemail.
After a call to the police, Marshall was at a loss.
Colette was in danger and possibly hurt, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Emergency services always took a long time to arrive, given their rural location.
Somewhere in his mind, awareness dawned, and he called Evan.
Evan could be there in a matter of seconds. He might even still be somewhere on the ranch.
The phone rang and nothing. He dialed again.
“Pick up the fucking phone, Evan,” he demanded.
After the third call, Evan picked up, his voice laced with confusion. “Marshall? I’m just finishing up in the stables. Are you on your way?”
“Evan, you need to check on Colette, she’s at the house or the guest house, somewhere. I think she’s in danger. I’m almost there, but you need to find her.”
“On it, Marshall.” Evan’s fast panting breaths on the line told Marshall he was running. Bless him. “What’s that smell?”
“Tell me what you see. I’ve called the police; they’re on their way.”
The sound changed as Evan left the barn, the typical noise of animals in the background transitioning to the dark silence of the night.
“Oh fuck, I gotta go, Marsh.” His friend could be heard uttering another curse and Marshall could hear him running.
“What’s happening? What do you see?” Marshall begged. The powerlessness was suffocating. Anxiety clutched at his chest, and all he wanted to do was scream.
“The guest house is on fire.”