Chapter Eleven
“I might know who shot the cow.”
Trev, Hayes, and Jordan exchanged glances as Burke casually lifted his beer to his lips.
“Gremlin went to jail last night. Got arrested right outside the Wolf Den.”
“And you think he did it?” Jordan asked dubiously.
“No. But he was telling the guys who arrested him that he had some information that they might find really interesting.”
“And from that you deduced the cow shooting.”
Burkey shook his head as he leaned back in his chair. “Nope. I deduced that from him saying, ‘I know a guy you’re looking for. The one who shot a freaking cow.’”
Jordan leaned forward. “Did you get a name?”
Burke shook his head. “Gotta wait until Gremlin gets out.”
“The cops will get it out of him,” Trev said.
“If he actually knows something.” Jordan wasn’t hopeful.
Gremlin was a save-your-skin kind of guy who’d say anything to get out of trouble.
Another exchange of glances between the brothers.
Jordan had spent most of the day on the family ranch while Meg and Lil went to pick up their sister at the airport in Belgrade.
From there, he and his brothers had gone to town for grocery shopping, where they’d run into Burke.
They’d agreed to a quick happy-hour round before heading home, mainly because Burke was bursting at the seams in anticipation of passing along some secret information.
It turned out to be better information than Jordan had hoped for—if it was true.
“Here’s the thing,” Burke said, tapping the table for emphasis. “Those guys Gremlin hangs with at the Wolf Den, they’d do things for money.”
“Think Gremlin will rat them out?”
“No. Especially after he sobers up. Wouldn’t be good for Wolf Den relations. Unless”—Burke shifted his jaw sideways as he thought—“unless he just heard about a guy who wasn’t one of them.”
“What did he get arrested for?”
“Tossed a beer bottle at Deputy Phil’s official rig when he drove by.”
“Maybe I should call Lil,” Jordan said.
“If the sheriff’s office had information, they’d call both of you,” Hayes said.
“True.” Jordan lifted his bottle in a short salute. “Thanks for the information, Burke.”
“Anytime.” Burke beamed over his beer. “I’ll hang out at the Wolf Den tonight and see if Gremlin shows up.”
“Appreciate it,” Jordan said. “Just don’t get yourself in any trouble.”
Burke made a sputtering noise.
As they parted company from their big friend a half hour later, Jordan realized he’d developed softer feelings about the cattle trailer fiasco at the Graff Hotel. Hell, it’d been half their fault for agreeing to it when, clearly, they should have known better. Burke was, after all, Burke.
*
Maya came down the escalator at the airport, her blond hair fluffing around her face like a halo.
She’d always looked more like an adorable kindergarten teacher than a lawyer, a fact that had both helped and hindered her, dependent on circumstances.
Despite the kindergarten-teacher look, she was not a hugger, but she made an exception as she was rushed by her two sisters.
“You’re going to muss up my hair,” she protested, as if her blond curls could get any more mussed than they already were.
They’d barely cleared the exit when Maya said, “Tell me everything you didn’t tell me over the phone.”
Lil had purposely kept details to a minimum during their call the previous evening to keep from being peppered with questions. Which gave Maya time to think of more questions.
“I figured we could sit down with Jordan and go over things together.”
“Great. You can bring me up to speed on the drive to your place. And you can also explain again why you kept me out of the loop.”
“You know why,” Meg said.
Maya let out an exasperated breath. “I can drop things for a day or two to come and help out.”
Day or two being the key words. This visit would be all of three days. Two on the ranch and one traveling back to the airport to head to her conference in Seattle. It was practically a record with the exception of the five-day Christmas visit. Maya’s plate was full.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” she said when they arrived at Lil’s pickup and Meg dropped the tailgate so that she could heft her carry-on bag into the bed. “I promise not to fly to the rescue if you promise to keep me updated. About everything.”
“Can you keep that promise?” Lil asked over the truck bed.
“I can.”
Meg made a disbelieving noise before opening the rear passenger door.
“I can’t help being the oldest,” Maya said as she settled in her seat.
“Bossiest,” Meg replied on a cough.
“Ha. Ha.”
Lil smiled into the rearview mirror and Meg smiled back. It was good to be together again.
*
Jordan hadn’t been certain of what to expect upon meeting the eldest McAllen sister, but Maya was the opposite of his mental picture of the lawyer sister who’d briefly worked for Carl Jordan’s company.
He could see the resemblance to Meg, the blond hair, blue eyes, and pert nose, but other than the stubborn chin with the cleft in the center, she had little in common with Lil, the dark-haired outlier middle child.
Being a middle child himself, in one of his two families anyway, he wondered if that was one of the reasons they seemed to understand one another.
They felt the same push-pull to both make peace yet carve out their own niches.
“You believe that the incidents were a push to get my sisters off the ranch?” Maya spoke directly to Jordan after Lil had summarized the facts while Maya jotted on her tablet.
As always, when conducting ranch-related business, they were seated at the big kitchen table.
“After the cow was shot, yes.”
Maya gave a considering nod then consulted her notes.
“You have paid grazing land to the east owned by Tom Baxter. He wasn’t contacted by a potential buyer, but his land isn’t as private as yours.
The Weston Conservancy is to the north. Federal land to the south and west. Is there any possibility of something valuable under the ground? ”
Jordan hadn’t considered that. “Not that I’m aware of, but I think the motive is simpler than that.
Since the celebrities discovered Big Sky, there’s been a lot of wealthier types looking for their own private spots.
This isn’t a huge property, but it doesn’t need to be because it’s surrounded by undeveloped land. ”
“There are other properties out there,” Lil said. “Why go to these lengths?”
“Maybe they don’t like being told no,” Meg, who’d been quiet up to that point, interjected.
“That’s possible. Big egos cause problems,” Maya agreed.
“I’ve dealt with a few over the years.” She tucked a handful of curls behind her ear.
“What bothers me is the timing of the offer. Since you received it prior to the will being filed in probate court, someone knew the terms and either passed them along or acted themselves.”
“So who could that be?”
“One of the heirs? Someone handling the paperwork? Although that’s a violation of ethics.”
“Who were the heirs?”
“You, his wife, and the employees.” Confronted with three bemused gazes, she explained, “Carl Jordan left his company to the employees.”
“Well, that certainly narrows down the suspects,” Lil murmured.
*
Maya might not have been a ranch girl in spirit—chasing cows, fixing fences, and feeding herds didn’t do much for her—but she loved to ride.
If she’d decided to pursue horse training, Lil was convinced that her older sister would have been better at it than she was, but instead, she’d chosen law. It did pay better.
On the last day of Maya’s stay, she and Lil had ridden the property on horseback.
The cow shooting was days past and Lil tried to put the unsettled feeling she had when she was in the pasture behind her.
She showed Maya where the fences had been breached and/or cut and where she’d seen the hiker and the boot print in the soft soil near the cut fence.
Maya had no further insights, but she’d insisted on seeing the sites in person.
When they returned to the ranch and finished grooming their horses, Maya didn’t seem to be in any hurry to return to the house where Meg was working on that evening’s farewell meal. Lil was starting to get the big-sister-talk vibe.
It came more quickly than she expected. She’d thought they’d at least have time to bring in the goats and play with the kitten, whom Maya, stunned that he didn’t have a name, had dubbed Elton. Just because.
“I like Jordan,” Maya began and Lil immediately sensed where this was going.
“He’s a good landlord.”
Maya gave her a wry side-eye. “Right.”
Lil shrugged dismissively, hoping to put the topic behind them. She did not want to discuss Jordan with her astute sister.
Maya cocked her head, looked like she was about to launch into one of her famous debates, but instead she said, “Just do me one favor.”
“What’s that?” Lil asked on a frown.
“Give yourself a break from being the pillar that holds us all up. We might crumple a little, but we won’t fall.”
“Okay …” They’d had this talk before.
“And don’t let fear rule.”
Lil’s chin jerked up. “What kind of fear?”
“The fear of new things.”
“New things.” Lil could think of only one new thing in her life that didn’t involve trouble on the ranch. “You mean a relationship?”
Maya answered with a lift of her eyebrows. “Or letting one pass a certain point?”
“Kind of wading into personal waters,” Lil warned in a voice that was falsely light.
“You’d do the same for me.” Maya mimicked Lil’s singsong tone.
“And you’d take my head off.”
Maya shrugged, unconcerned. “Probably. All I’m saying is that we’ve been hit by a lot. I’m still dealing with losing Dad, and I’m sure you are too. Then we lost the ranch. It’s hard not to be conditioned to anticipate the next big swing life takes at you.”
“I see that as a positive.”
“Is it?” Maya asked, furrowing her forehead.
“Forewarned is forearmed.”
“That is not forewarned. That’s hypervigilance and anxiety.”
“I’m not being hyper whatever.” She rested a hand on her horse’s back. “I’m enjoying my time with Jordan.”
Shit. She’d just confessed.