Chapter Seventeen
The ranch is already surrounded by people when we arrive, but not a single person has entered the house.
I have to fight back my grin, feeling how pissed-off the house is with these people.
They have no idea how lucky they are because I’m not the only one whose powers have grown since my return.
The house has gotten stronger, too. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find a rocket launcher emerging from the roof, aiming at them all.
As the car comes to a stop, I focus on a mental image and push it toward the house.
I’ve been working on this a lot over the last few months, mostly to train my brain.
I can’t keep giving myself headaches and nose bleeds without doing some permanent damage, and I figured practice makes perfect.
Perhaps subconsciously, I always knew it would come to this.
The wind swirls around my hair as I step out of the car. A soft caress, like a hand on my chin, tells me the house understood the assignment.
“Open her up so we can get things moving,” the marshal orders.
I look at Jen. “I take it manners are optional when it comes to law enforcement?”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if this guy turned out to be just like our buddy Derek.”
“And they wonder why people dislike cops,” I grumble, walking up to the house. I drag my fingers along the doorframe, sending reassuring vibes before the door swings wide.
“You don’t lock your doors around here?”
“We don’t live in the city, Marshal. And besides, I’ve found if someone truly means you harm, a locked door won’t do shit to keep them out.”
He grunts at me before looking at the porch swing. “Wait there. I’ll have an officer stay with you.”
“I’d prefer to wait out back. I have some ornery horses who spook easily around strangers. Your agent can still keep me company.”
I can see he wants to protest, but one look from Jen and he capitulates. I guess he realizes he’s already pushing his luck. He must really think he’s gonna find something to justify this heap of shit he’s stepped in.
“Fine. But don’t go wandering off.”
“Now, where would I go? This is my home after all. Try to remember that before you destroy the place.”
“Oh, they won’t be destroying anything but their careers,” Jen threatens. This seems to fuel the marshal’s anger, but he keeps his mouth shut as he stomps upstairs.
I sigh and walk through the house with the babysitting agent right behind me.
“I’m going to keep an eye on these people. I don’t have a whole lot of faith in law enforcement right now,” Jen complains.
“No worries. Come find me when their shitshow is over.” I head outside and over to the stables, where I grab some carrots and feed them to the horses I pass.
I grab an apple for Willow, hoping to sweeten her up a little because I can tell she’s pissed-off, too.
I don’t know if she’s feeding off me, or the land—perhaps both—but it would be just my luck that she’d take a chunk out of someone’s ass and they’d try to put her down. Over my dead body.
“Hey, sweet girl. You want to come for a walkabout and stretch those legs of yours?”
She throws her head back and neighs, making me grin. I let her out, warning the agent hovering behind me to stand back.
“She’s pretty.”
“She is, and she knows it.”
In response, Willow flips her hair, giving main character energy. I grin, right up until the agent reaches for her. “If you want to keep your fingers, I wouldn’t. She’s feisty.”
He yanks his hand back, thankfully taking my warning seriously.
“Come on then,” I say to Willow.
The agent looks at me. “Aren’t you going to throw a rope around her neck or something to stop her running away?”
Willow and I give him matching looks of disdain. “Willow is perfectly capable of walking next to me, provided people leave her alone.”
“Right. Go ahead.”
I roll my eyes and continue walking. Willow keeps close to me as I take her to the pen where Belle is working with Cracker, one of our rescue horses.
“He looks good.”
She turns when she sees me and smiles. “He does, doesn’t he? He’s still skittish, but that’s to be expected with how he was treated before. How come you’re back, anyway? I wasn’t expecting you for a few more…” Her voice drifts off when she notices the agent behind me. “What’s going on?”
“US marshals and friends have decided to raid the place, thanks to activities that may or may not have taken place here while I was incarcerated.”
“Wait. If you weren’t here, then how is it your problem?”
“Funny, I asked the same thing. The lead marshal deflected and started talking about the abundance of missing men in our town and surrounding areas.”
“Are they serious?”
“They seem to be, though I have no idea what they think I’m doing with them all.”
“They clearly haven’t looked into the men either, or they wouldn’t be so worried,” she mutters, making me snort, though I get where she’s coming from.
“A person’s character has no impact on whether they are a victim of a crime or not,” the agent with me states.
“Sure, but if a serial killer and his victim were dying side by side, and you could only save one, you’d save the victim, right?” Belle asks
The guy hesitates before choosing not to answer, which is an answer in itself.
“So a person’s character does play a part.
Anyway, my point is, when I was younger, a girl in our neighborhood went missing.
She was a really nice girl, from a good family, a straight-A student, and she babysat all the local kids, including me.
One night after babysitting, she never made it home.
Cops waited forty-eight hours to look for her, and when they couldn’t find anything a week later, they ruled her a runaway as her parents were getting divorced or something equally as dumb.
They basically stopped looking. Nobody ever found her.
Zero sightings. Her poor mother was a walking ghost. Now you have a marshal here looking for deadbeat dads, wife beaters, cheaters, and fraudsters? ” She shakes her head in disgust.
“You seem to know an awful lot about the victims, miss.”
“I take it you’re not from a small town.”
He looks confused, but she rolls her eyes. “Nothing stays a secret in a small town. And I’m a transplant here, still mostly considered an outsider. So if I knew, you can guarantee everyone else knew too.”
The guy says nothing for a moment. When he does open his mouth to speak, the back door opens, and the man in charge storms out with an amused-looking Jen behind him.
“Everything okay?” I ask her.
“Seems the marshal here is a little clumsy.”
I frown in confusion until I realize the house is projecting smugness. “Oh no, what happened?”
“Nothing,” the marshal snaps, his eyes darting around as more of his people file out.
“We’ll search out here while the rest of the team finishes up. I’ll also be confiscating any computer equipment—”
“No, you won’t,” Jen tells him, her voice sharp.
“And it’s not covered in the warrant either.
I know, I checked. Even if it were, you’d only be able to collect electronics from Mr. Porter and Mr. Martin, so I suggest you head to Mr. Porter’s property for those.
You will not be taking my client’s computer.
A computer that was purchased by me after Calliope left prison, after whatever events in the investigation you’re conducting started, and after the people you are looking for were evicted.
If you want Calliope’s computer, you’ll have to get another warrant for that.
Somehow, I don’t think you’ll find that as easy as you’d hoped. ”
They stare at each other in a silent standoff for a moment before the marshal breaks first, stomping away as he heads toward the pastures.
“Why does it feel like that man has an agenda?”
“Because he does. A bust like this could have been career-making. He’s too fucking proud to realize it’s over, so instead of walking away, he’s going to fuck up and then end up losing his position anyway. So what is the damn point?” Jen argues, frustrated.
The agent looks uncomfortable as fuck, which amuses me to no end. Turning to the house when I feel it stir, I’m not surprised in the slightest to find Shepard and Austin barreling toward me. I am amazed, though, that Riggs isn’t with them.
“What the fuck is going on?” Shepard snarls.
Jen fills him in as I focus on Austin. “Where’s Riggs?”
“There are agents in town asking questions about you. He stayed to keep an ear on what’s happening and an eye on Hannah. Plus, I don’t think he trusted himself not to rip off this fucktard’s head.”
“And yet you came?”
“Difference is, I don’t give a fuck about ripping his head off. It would be worth it.”
“Right. Silly me. Do me a favor, stay with Shepard.” We both look over at Shepard, who is arguing with the agent. “Maybe I should just lock you both in the barn.”
He wraps his arm around me and laughs. “You worry too much.”
“I have the US marshals tearing my home apart. I think I’m pretty fucking chilled, considering.”
“Okay, so maybe we should just lock you in the barn with us. We could keep you distracted.”
“Behave.” I laugh as Shepard dashes past me. I turn and see the lead marshal heading back. “Fuck. Do not let Shepard hit him, Austin. I mean it.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got him.”
I look up to the sky, wondering if Dawn could smite the motherfucker. I tune out everyone around me and rest my head against Willow, who pretends she’s a docile mare and not a raging bitch most of the time.
Eventually, when I don’t feel like screaming my lungs out, I turn to the marshal, plaster on a fake-as-fuck smile, and ask him what the issue is now.
“We need to do some digging.”
“I’m sorry, but why?”
“We have reason to believe there may be bodies buried here.”
I blink at him, wondering if he’ll disappear. But no, that motherfucker is still standing. “Whose bodies exactly?”
“Of the missing people,” he huffs like I’m dumb.