Chapter 14 #2

He checked his watch. He’d been gone from the main lodge for almost an hour.

The urge to see Annie, to make sure she was safe, plagued him.

“As I learn new information from my interviews, I’ll pass it along.

Cell signal isn’t great here, so if you call me, I may not find out for hours.

Annie has a satellite phone, though.” Tate shared the number.

“I’ll also be checking my email regularly, so anything that isn’t urgent can be sent there. Thanks.”

“Sleep with one eye open,” Luke urged. “We’ve gotten used to having you on the team. It’d be a real shame to have to replace you cuz you got yourself knocked off by a revenge-seeking murderer.”

His words might have been humorous, but Tate heard the worry threading through his colleague’s voice. “Oh, I’m not that easy to kill. Besides, I like my odds better than yours. You’re what, five kids to four adults in that house right now?”

Both rangers burst out laughing, and Luke looked sheepish. “Next Christmas, it’ll be six to four. Megan is pregnant with our third.”

“Congrats!” Tate couldn’t have been happier for Luke and Megan.

As he ended the call, the comfort of talking with his colleagues faded into cold reality. Tate had failed Seth. And Kayla. He refused to make another mistake.

Tucking his phone into his pocket, he checked the walk-in fridge, ensuring the red light on the control panel glowed.

Locked. Good. He turned to leave, but a partially open door on the other side of the industrial kitchen caught his attention.

His stomach tightened. Hadn’t that been closed the last time he was in here?

Drawing the borrowed Glock, Tate eased past the metal preparation stations and the giant stove.

His heartbeat pulsed in his ears, echoed by a throb from the wound on his hand.

He approached the door. There wasn’t a lock on the handle.

He strained to hear any noise coming from inside the room, but there was nothing.

Beyond the gap, the room was pitch-black.

“Is someone there? This is the police. Come out with your hands up.”

Nothing.

Tate kicked open the door and pivoted into the room. Light from the kitchen spilled over metal shelving stocked with canned goods, paper towels, cleaning products, and extra supplies.

No one was there.

Tate relaxed his stance and located the light switch next to the door.

He flipped it on. An empty, crumpled package of beef jerky sat on the floor next to a scattering of spilled cans.

Some of the shelves looked rifled through, the items shifted and disorganized.

No one was here now, but someone had been.

Who would break into the mess hall and rummage through the canned goods?

Something moved behind him. Tate whirled, lifting his gun.

A barrel stared back at him.

Tate breathed out when he saw the man holding it.

“Dwayne, what are you doing here?” He lowered his gun.

“I could ask you the same question.” Dwayne did the same. His jacket was damp from the rain, and a cowboy hat shielded his weathered face. Bud hung back behind his master. “I saw the lights on in the building and thought there might be an intruder.”

“Just me. The mess hall was the only place with good enough signal for a video call.” Tate gestured to the ransacked pantry. “Someone got into your canned goods.” His muscles stiffened. “Could someone be squatting in one of the empty cabins?”

“Naw. I checked them.” Dwayne scowled at the beef jerky near Tate’s foot.

“Probably a staffer looking for a snack. We’ve had it happen before.

Annie makes sure there’s enough food to feed an army at mealtimes, and there’s a snack section in the kitchen in the main lodge, but for some odd reason, we still get people looting the pantry on their own. ”

The explanation seemed reasonable enough. Still, Tate sensed something off about Dwayne. Standing this close, Tate registered they were roughly the same size. And although Dwayne had to be pushing seventy, the man was in excellent shape.

Could he have been the attacker in the cabin? The perpetrator had used a stun gun to disable Tate, giving him an advantage. He didn’t like the idea that a senior citizen had gotten the better of him, but he was smart enough to recognize it was a possibility.

But why would Dwayne be killing people unless…

He was related to Seth.

Seth’s father? An uncle?

Dwayne backed out of the pantry so Tate could exit.

He shut the door behind him, making a mental note to come back and collect some of the discarded wrappers.

He didn’t have a way to test for prints at the moment, but it cost him nothing.

“Annie’s lucky to have someone on her staff who looks out for her.

She mentioned you were from this area, that your grandfather was an expert tracker. ”

“He was.”

Okay. Not a talker, then. “Shame you couldn’t find the shooter in the woods.”

Dwayne’s mouth thinned to a hard line. He was displeased about it too. “I take it no one has come forward with an injury? I found blood near where he was hiding. Annie might’ve winged him.”

“No.” Tate flipped off the light to the pantry and closed the door. “How long have you been working as a property manager?”

“I’ve been working on ranches since before you were in diapers.”

Tate smiled. “Bet you’ve got some stories to tell.” He glanced at Dwayne’s hands. No ring. “Ever married?”

“Never had the pleasure.” Dwayne’s eyes narrowed as he hooked his thumbs in his belt. “If you want to know something, then ask. Beating around the bush ain’t my style.”

He could respect directness. “Do you know anything about these attacks that you haven’t said?”

He stared hard at Tate. “Let’s get one thing straight, Ranger Atwood.

Annie’s welfare and the safety of everyone on this ranch is my top priority.

I’m not the problem, and you’re wasting your time questioning me.

If I were you, I’d spend more time trying to figure out why someone wants to kill y’all so badly. ”

Dwayne turned and walked away, whistling for Bud. The dog fell into step beside him.

“Make sure you lock up when you leave.”

The entrance door slammed shut behind him. Tate stood in the silence of the kitchen, uneasiness washing over him. He believed Dwayne when the older man said Annie’s welfare was his top priority, but he also hadn’t answered the question Tate had asked. Which left him wondering...

Did Dwayne know more than he was saying?

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He yanked it out. Evan. Tate’s pulse jumped as he answered, his feet already moving to the exit. “What is it?”

“You’d better get over to the main lodge. We’ve got a problem.”

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