“Never heard of her.”
Rile raised a brow. “Surprising.”
I backed away from the table, stood, and shook my head. I was regretting my decision to partner up with the Invincibles, as Mila had called them. Rile’s bullshit already grated on me.
“Grinder will prepare her dossier and have it for you this afternoon.”
“Not necessary,” I said as I turned to walk out.
“But it is, my friend. Our intention is to ask Casper to join the firm.”
“So do it. You don’t need my input.”
“Has to be unanimous,” said Grinder. “We all have to agree.”
Great. More fucking administrative bullshit. What had I gotten myself into?
When I got to the barn, I saw Edge was saddling up Sage, the horse I would’ve chosen for Mila.
“I can do that myself,” I heard her say.
“Let her,” I said to Edge.
I watched out of the corner of my eye to make sure Edge did as I asked before I went to look for Boon, the barn manager. I found him in the office.
“Hey, Deck,” the man said when I walked in.
“Everything running smoothly?”
“Course it is. Ain’t much to keep the hands busy this time of year, but you know that better than I do.”
King-Alexander was one of the few ranches in the area that kept a large crew employed year-round. Like Z and even Wasp King before him, Quint and I agreed that what we spent in extra wages, saved us money in the long run. The ranch hands were loyal and worked hard. During the busier seasons, we weren’t forced to hire people we hadn’t yet vetted, which was necessary with our operation.
“Appreciate you handlin’ things here at the ranch, Boon.”
“It’s my job, Deck.”
“You started up the Bummer lately?”
That got a smile out of him. Driving the Bummer was a perk of Boon’s job. Quint and I built the Frankenstein truck ourselves. We’d pieced it together from parts of countless others. Once it was assembled, I’d found buckets of bright yellow texture paint, and that’s what we’d used to paint it. It had four rows of seats, all-wheel drive, was lifted higher than any of our other trucks, and the tires were from an abandoned military vehicle.
While it didn’t really resemble any other vehicle in existence, when some asshole from a nearby ranch bought an old Hummer H1, Quint and I decided our monstrosity looked like a damn sad version of the Humvee, the basis for the H1. That’s when we’d started calling it the Bummer.
“Took it out just yesterday,” said Boon.
I clapped the man on the back before heading out to saddle up my own horse.
Ike was the first in my string, sired by the same stud as Gunsmoke, Quint’s Paint. A year younger than Gunsmoke, Ike was a fifteen-hand, five-year-old gelding, and in my opinion, a far superior horse. Quint disagreed, of course, but really it was just another thing we gave each other shit about.
It made me feel like a pussy, but I missed my best friend. I wondered what Quint’s take would’ve been on Rile’s proposal. Most likely he would’ve been in favor of me signing on the dotted line. Quint was always telling me that I shouldn’t use the ranch as an excuse not to do the kind of work I loved.
Except I loved both kinds of work equally, especially at King-Alexander. This place was my home and had been for the last eighteen years. Before Z told me I could stay here with them, I’d never known what having a home felt like. From my earliest memory, I’d bounced from place to place, never feeling like I belonged. I couldn’t imagine ever leaving.
“Where’s Edge?” I asked Mila when I came out and saw her warming Sage up in the arena.
“He said he wanted to check on something in Schoolhouse.”
“What kind of rider are you, Mila?”
“I’ve ridden a time or two.”
I smiled when she smirked. It was obvious that she was comfortable in her seat, and while Sage was a sound and manageable mount, like most horses, she responded best to a confident hand.
“Ready?” I asked, opening the gate.
“Whenever you are,” she answered, walking Sage out of the arena.
I closed the gate, mounted Ike, and gave him a quick nudge. We moved together easily from a walk to a trot and then into a canter. I let Mila take the lead at edging Sage into a gallop. Once she had, I rode ahead of her, leading her to the upper pasture known as Schoolhouse, where Edge told her he’d be.
She had her blonde hair pulled back, but her ponytail was long enough that it waved in the breeze behind her. The smile on her face couldn’t have been more natural; she obviously loved being on horseback as much as I did. To me, there was no freer feeling in the world. Riding out gave me the space and time I needed to think. I’d needed to get out here more than I realized.
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” I said when we slowed to go over a crest.
“Like I said, it’s been a long time. God, I can’t even remember the last time I was on horseback.”
“It’s my therapy. If I haven’t had time to ride, pretty much everyone at the ranch knows it.” I laughed and then looked up at where Edge was fussing with a section of the fence.
I rode up, dismounted, and tied Ike to a post. I was about to help Mila do the same, but she’d already tied Sage off.
“Looks like somebody got twisted up,” Edge said when I got close enough to see what he was doing.
Sure enough, this section of the fence was mangled. I knelt down when something caught my eye. It looked similar to the fabric I’d seen snagged on the broken twig outside the cabin. I pulled out my bandanna and grasped the material with it before rolling it up and putting it in my pocket.
My cell vibrated, and I pulled it out of my other pocket. “Hey, Boon.”
“Rile is lookin’ for ya.”
“Tell him I’ll be back in fifteen.”
“All three of ya.”
“Understood. Send somebody out to Schoolhouse, Boon. We’ve got some fence to mend. Better yet, I’d prefer you handle it.”
“Got it, boss.”
21
Mila
It didn’t take long for me to feel comfortable, even though it had been years since I rode a horse. When I left Texas nine years ago, I left more than the memories of my attack behind. I left everything—as much as I could anyway.
I donated my riding boots and most of my jeans to a local women’s shelter. Anything flannel went to them too, or into the trash. I did my damndest to lose my accent, and when I arrived in Boston, I hit up every thrift store I could find, in search of the kind of clothes I saw my classmates wearing.
Like Adler, I’d been anxious to return to the East Coast shortly after our plane landed. Looking into Decker’s eyes at the airport, realizing who he was, finding out my sister’s death wasn’t an accident, made me want to stay. I couldn’t say for how long; I still had a life in Boston to get back to. I needed answers first, though. Starting with, where the hell had Adler disappeared to?
“Everything okay?” Decker asked when we were almost back to the barn.
“Thinking about Adler.”
When he growled, I laughed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t wondered what he’s up to.”
“I’m hoping that’s part of what Rile needs to speak with us about.”
When I dismounted, a man was there to take Sage’s reins.
“Mila, this is Boon. He’s the barn manager.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Boon tipped his hat and then removed it. “I was sorry to hear about your sister. I knew your mama.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, taking Decker’s hand when he held it out to me. We walked out of the arena and into the barn.
“Go ahead and change back into your other clothes,” he told me. “If we ride out again today, it won’t be until much later. It’s getting too damn hot for anyone to be out there.”
When we rode back in, I’d noticed men checking water supplies in some
Decker was waiting for me when I came out of the tack room.
“I’ll just put these back,” I told him, holding up the handful of clothes I’d worn.
“I’ll take care of it,” said Edge, who I hadn’t seen standing nearby.
I was about to argue that I could handle putting the jeans, shirt, socks, and boots back where I’d found them, but when I saw the look on Decker’s face, I let it go.
He led me inside to where Rile and Grinder were waiting in what looked like a formal dining room.
“Here you go,” Grinder said to Decker, handing him an envelope. He set it on the table and then pulled out the chair next to Rile for me.
“Thank you,” I murmured, looking over my shoulder at him. He kissed my cheek and then sat next to me.
Within a couple of minutes, Edge came in and joined them. Once he was seated, Rile leaned forward, resting one arm on the table and looking directly at me.
“We cut our conversation last evening short. My intention is for us to continue at this time.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
“I asked what you knew about Adler Livingston’s parents, and as evidenced by your reaction, you know very little.”
“That’s right. I never met them.” I rolled my shoulders trying to let go of some of the tension that always settled there.
“When is the last time you heard from Adler?”
I looked at Deck and then took out my phone to check. “The day before yesterday.”
“I understand that you had an interaction with your father yesterday.”
“That’s right,” I repeated, wishing Decker could just answer so I wouldn’t have to talk about it.
Rile looked at Decker, who nodded, and then back at me. “Can you tell me about your conversation?”
“There isn’t much to tell. My father interacted with Decker more than with me.”
After each answer, Rile nodded. “Before yesterday, when did you last see him.”
“Nine years ago.”
He leaned in closer. “Are you comfortable talking about what happened the last time you saw him?”
“Comfortable isn’t a word I’d use, but I will tell you.” I felt Decker’s arm across the back of my chair; his fingertips grazed my shoulder.
“I contacted my father and asked to meet with him,” I began and continued with everything I’d told Decker the night before, through to the part when my father had walked me to my car after reminding me that I’d agreed not to tell anyone what had happened. While it was easier to tell the story this time than it had been with Decker, having to think so much about that night brought back memories I would prefer be forgotten.
“Can you remember anything else significant that happened that night?” Rile asked.
“Just one thing.” I turned to Decker. “I didn’t tell you this last night, but when my father yelled for me to leave and wait for him upstairs, I heard something else.”
“Go ahead,” Decker murmured.
“I heard the man say, ‘She looks just like…’ That was it. The next thing I heard was what sounded like my father punching him.”
“Is there anything else?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Your parents divorced when you were quite young. Is there anything you recall from that period of time?”
“I don’t remember much of anything. My father wasn’t around very often.”
“Your sister was two years younger than you are, is that correct?”
“No, not two. She was fifteen months younger than me.” I took a deep breath and leaned back in my chair. Decker had warned me that I would be questioned; it was more difficult than I thought it would be since Rile’s questions seemed to jump all over the place. “Wait. There is something I remember.”
“Go ahead,” murmured Decker.
“My sister needed surgery. Her appendix, I think. It seemed like right after she got out of the hospital, my mama told me we were moving to Bluebell Creek to live with my granddaddy, and that my father wasn’t going with us.”
When Rile nodded, both Edge and Grinder got up and left the table.
“What’s going on?” I asked, looking between him and Decker.
“Research,” Decker murmured, and then pushed his chair back. “If there’s nothing else you need now, Mila and I are going back to the house.”
Rile nodded in the same way he had before Edge and Grinder left the room.
“He’s an interesting guy,” I said once we were in Decker’s truck and pulling away from the main house.
“Bugs the shit outta me, if you want to know the truth.”
“It’s obvious.”
“It is?”
“You spend most of the time snarling when he’s talking. Even when he’s not.”
Decker laughed.
“I guess that’s why people call him Rile.”
“Good point,” said Decker. “Most of the time, I don’t pay much attention to the code names these agencies seem to think are necessary.”
“Both Edge and Grinder are pretty obvious because of their last names, but I’ll admit I was curious about Rile.”
“Now you know,” Decker snarled, which made me laugh.
“Why are we back here?” I asked when he pulled into the garage.
“Because this morning took more out of you than you think it did. And I’m hungry.”
When he came around to my side of the truck and opened my door, I hesitated before getting out. “Why else are we here, Decker?”
He put his hands on my waist and lifted me from the truck, but he didn’t set me on my feet. “Couple of reasons,” he said, capturing my lips with his. “That’s one.”
“And the other?”
“I’ve got some research of my own to do.”
Decker slid me down his body and kissed me again once my feet were on the garage floor. “Come on, baby,” he said, pulling me toward the door to the house. “After we eat, let’s see if we can figure out where ol’ Adler disappeared to.”
Once inside, I washed my hands and then opened the refrigerator. We’d brought so much food back with us from Bluebell Creek, there was plenty to choose from.
While Decker went into the office, I made a charcuterie board with different kinds of cheeses, raspberries, grapes, chunks of pineapple, and dry salami. I turned the oven to warm, wrapped a baguette in a damp towel, and stuck it in for a few minutes.
“Wow,” said Decker when he joined me in the kitchen. “That looks great.”
He got out two plates and set them on the counter along with napkins. When I sat in the stool, he kissed me. “Thank you, Mila.”
I smiled. “You’re welcome, Decker.”
“I can’t decide what I want more, lunch or to keep doing this.” When he kissed me again, I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“This,” I murmured, kissing him back.
He cupped my cheek with his hand and looked into my eyes. “I want you to know how brave I think you are, Mila. I know I don’t have any right to say this, but I’m proud of you.”
“That means a lot to me, Decker.”
He picked up a piece of pineapple and took a bite. “I have a question for you,” he said after he’d taken a seat.
More questions? I braced myself. “Go ahead.”
“How much of this do you want to be involved in?”
“By this, do you mean the work you and your partners are doing?”
Decker put a piece of cheese and salami on a warm slice of bread, took a bite, and then nodded.
“As much as you’ll let me be.” It might be easier if I’d said I didn’t want to be involved in any of it, but Sybil was my sister. I owed it to her to do whatever I could to help figure who killed her and why.
“Are you sure? I warned you that it can get rough.”
“I don’t have anything else to hide, Decker. I told you my biggest fear, and that’s whether or not my father killed the man who attacked me.”
“What if we find out he didn’t?”
“I’m not sure how to answer you. I haven’t ever let myself think about it. I suppose my question then would be, are there others he’s done this to?”
“Valid question. And if we find out he did?”
“What would that mean for me from a legal standpoint?”
“That depends on Judd.”
“Would you be obligated to report him to…someone?”
Decker pushed his plate to the side and rested his elbows on the counter in front of him. “That’s a good way to put it, Mila, and the answer is no. We wouldn’t be obligated.”
“I don’t know whether to feel reassured or concerned.”
Decker smiled. “Both.”
“So…Adler?”
“I’m having a buddy pull his travel records now. I suspect he’s still in Texas, but what he’s up to is anyone’s guess.”
“I could try calling him back.”
“You could.”
“But?”
“Let’s see what my buddy comes up with, and then we’ll decide.”
“How long will that take?”
Decker refilled his plate. “Long enough for us to finish lunch and then maybe get started on that other stuff we both wanted more of.”
22
Decker
“Come with me,” I said when Mila finished eating and began clearing our dishes. I held out my hand, and she put hers in it.
“Where are we going?”
“Just in here,” I said, leading her over to the sofa. I leaned my back against the arm and settled Mila in between my legs. I ran my hands down her bare arms and rested them on her waist.
“I like having your hands on me,” she murmured, trailing her fingertips over them.
“We’re going to take this slow, baby. I told you before that I want to know everything I do that makes you uncomfortable. You can tell me, and you can show me. Whichever it is, know that I’m paying attention.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Always.”
“That day in the hallway at school. Why did you make those boys leave me alone?”
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