Chapter Six
Dirks stepped down from the ladder and contemplated his progress. Angling one camera toward the barn’s main entrance was helpful but there wasn’t adequate wiring to allow him to move the other cameras to more strategic locations. He measured the distance by the simple method of walking the route and calculating feet per stride. It was crude but effective. He added that total to the text message he’d begun along with some necessary connectors, not yet hitting send as he hadn’t scoped out requirements in the two remaining barns.
His handy sixth sense warned him he wasn’t alone in the barn but there wasn’t a corresponding tingle along the back of his neck. He made no move toward his concealed carry as he stepped around the corner.
Tucker, tall and lanky, was squinting up at the camera Dirks had shifted. “Good idea, that. You planning on moving the others?”
“Yeah, but I’ll have to wait until Ms. Wilson returns from town. I want to move a couple to the other barns.”
Tucker frowned. “Avery went by herself?”
Dirks studied him, trying to judge his age. Early thirties, maybe mature twenties. “She did. That worry you?”
“Shouldn’t it? That son of a bitch she married shot her windshield out, didn’t he? Who knows what he’ll aim at next. Or what other badass he’s pissed off.”
“We don’t know for sure whose bullets those were … unless you’ve heard from the sheriff.” Dirks doubted any solid proof would connect the vandalism to Craig Danson. He wasn’t even convinced that Craig’s finger had been on the trigger, at least not the physical trigger of the gun. Craig had maybe incited the incident, just as he’d precipitated Markham’s ill-fated trip to the ranch earlier. Dirks didn’t credit him with macho enough to put a bullet into her vehicle in the middle of town.
“Carlee told me it had to be her dad. She should know.” Tucker sounded slightly defensive and Dirks took a closer look at the younger man and recognized a gleam in his eyes that was at least infatuation, and possibly some stronger emotion, connected with his mention of the young woman.
“Likely she should and perhaps does but it’s always a better bet not to assume anything when a threat of danger is involved. If you guard in only one direction – because you think you know – you leave yourself wide open on several other fronts.”
Tucker hunched his narrow shoulders. “Avery said you were military.”
Dirks smiled inwardly. As if the word military explained everything about him to the young man. After nearly three decades of active service, Dirks had accepted a desk job. He considered it a weak moment when he’d been recovering from a second injury with the first barely healed. At the time it had seemed ideal, no one shooting at him, no one’s life depending upon him, traveling around the many states that he had loved and served and sacrificed a pint or two of blood to protect. All he had to do was review, visit and certify equestrian and other therapeutic complexes across the country as approved to offer services to veterans whose wounds crossed the gamut from loss of sight and limb to brain trauma and PTSD.
Even so, if his first job involved bringing to ruin the most attractive woman he’d seen in all his travel across the globe, he’d be looking to pick up a gun again. Summer Valley Ranch had been approved by his predecessor who hadn’t been considered a singular success in his role. Dirks wondered if Avery Wilson was one of the man’s failures. Someone was guilty of fraud. One possibility was Craig Danson, the other was Avery. Her team, Tucker among them, certainly wouldn’t agree with that possibility but Dirks couldn’t afford to ignore it.
Like most people, Tucker didn’t have a clue what the term military conveyed, including the search for truth, whatever the cost. Dirks hoped he never did, never had to, but all he said was, “Yes, I am. Are you busy right now? Do you have time to check out the other barns? I could use your help.”
Tucker straightened, clearly pleased to be asked. “Yeah, I’ve had my last client for the day. I’ve got a couple hours before I need to do anything else with my horses.”
My horses. Dirks liked hearing that sense of ownership, that tone of affection. It boded well for the success of Avery Wilson’s venture. And then he wondered why he cared. The fact that he did bothered him. A lot.
After walking through the remaining two barns with Tucker and stepping off some additional measurements, Dirks added to his text message to Avery, hit send and then found himself waiting for her response. Tucker had taken himself off to collect some boards and nails and tools to build temporary bases for the cameras Dirks planned to move. Dirks found himself glad the younger man wasn’t there to see him staring at his phone like some teen waiting for a response. Decisively, he slipped the phone into his pocket. He had no idea how often Avery Wilson checked her messages or if she kept the volume down to minimize distractions. He was, however, certain she’d check before she headed out of town to see if he needed anything to help keep her horses safe. They were definitely her priority.
Tucker returned pulling a utility cart stacked with boards and tools, and they worked companionably for a little while. Dirks wasn’t surprised to find Tucker less than talkative but it was an easy silence broken only by necessity for the work involved. Leanne stopped by after her last client of the day to see if they needed help but didn’t seem disappointed to be told they were good. Tucker asked her to make a round of the barns and paddocks.
“Sure thing,” Leanne agreed easily. “Then I’ll see if I can unearth some of the cots and blankets we use for kids’ camp. I need to go home to check in with Jason but I’m coming back here for the night. Hopefully all of this will settle down soon.” She grinned. “I haven’t seen the appeal in sleeping under the stars or in a barn since I was twelve or so.”
“Kids’ camp?” Dirks asked into the quiet that followed her departure.
“Yep. Avery started it her first year. I think it was mostly to help Carlee. She was just a kid then and it was right after her mother’s suicide. I wasn’t here for the first camp, but I was for the second and I’ve helped with all of them since then.”
“This was the first place you ever worked?”
“First and only. I started coming every afternoon when I was in high school, traded cleaning stalls for lessons because my folks didn’t earn enough for things like that. In college I worked weekends and evenings to pay for tuition. I knew from the start Avery would make a success of this place. When I got my degree, she hired me straight on.”
“Yeah?” Dirks paused before he hammered the next nail. “What’s your degree?”
“Veterinary medicine.” There was enormous pride evident in the answer.
Dirks lowered his hammer and scrutinized more closely the young man he’d recognized as intelligent but hadn’t given nearly enough attention to as someone with drive and ambition. He was also struck by the realization that Summer Valley Ranch had the resources to afford an on-staff veterinarian.
Tucker grinned. “I know. I look like a kid. I hear that all the time. It actually helps out with some of my younger clients who open up to me more than they normally would.”
“Do you have a practice? Away from here, I mean?” Dirks was more than curious about the arrangement.
“Nope. Could have I guess, but Avery pays me well. Raises are small but regular and I know business here is only going to get bigger and better. Right now, I stay busy and earn my salary giving lessons along with the foaling and taking care of minor injuries here and there. I do help out some of the neighboring farms if the vet in town is tied up with an emergency but I don’t charge them for it. That’s just part of being good neighbors in a close community. As a matter of fact, I plan to make some rounds this evening after the horses are fed and settled. I want to ask a few of those I’ve helped to keep an eye open for strangers wandering around.”
Dirks resumed work and put the last nail in place. “Sounds like you’ve got a good future mapped out right here.”
“That’s the plan.” Tucker stepped back from the ladder a
s Dirks descended. “Once these barns are full and Barns Four and Five are built and filled with horses, Avery’s going to build a real clinic. We’ll need it by then. She’s drawn up the design already, has an apartment for me up top.” He spoke quietly, without any conceit, though Dirks suspected not many vets his age had a practice that included housing along with salary.
Dirks nodded. “This is going to be quite a place, I think.” It was already.
“So, you’re going to approve us for the veteran’s program?”
It was like a punch to the gut, being reminded that he had no reason yet to trust Avery Wilson. “I haven’t come across any reason not to,” he said cautiously. But the truth was, his reason for being there had somehow gotten diverted by the events that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. And by a pair of beautiful green and gold eyes. He’d need to conclude his investigation soon and determine if criminality, negligence, or something else was behind bills received and payments sent by the managing office on behalf of veterans who’d never received any of the benefits of the program from Summer Valley Ranch.
Dirks was glad when a quiet ping from his phone gave him a reason to redirect the conversation. “Ms. Wilson has purchased the fiber optic cable I need for the last runs. She’s headed back to the ranch.”
Tucker started gathering up tools. “I’ll be back later this evening and can give you a hand with running that wire. Lighting’s plenty good in the barn for just about anything we need to do.”
Dirks nodded. “Sure thing.” In the meantime, he needed to get back on track with determining the guilt or innocence of one Avery Wilson.
Even with the lengthy days of summer – which Avery often wished were switched about so that winter rather than summer had the extension of daylight savings time – she needed her headlights by the time she turned onto the ranch drive.
Her first thought was one of relief to see Carlee’s vehicle parked in its usual place. Her second was an unwelcome leap of her pulse as Dirks pushed away from the paddock post where he’d been leaning. She watched as his long stride carried him toward the ranch truck. He reached her before she had time to do more than open the driver side door and step out. He’d been waiting and watching for her, that much was clear.
“I see Carlee’s home.” The inane comment seemed better than staring silently into those dark eyes that regarded her with startling intensity. “Is she okay?”
She found the slight quirk of his lips remarkably sexy.
“Hard for me to tell. She’s either not one for conversation or she doesn’t have much she wants to say to me.”
Avery went for what she hoped was a casual smile. “Don’t take it personally. She’s an excellent conversationalist but not much of a talker, if that makes sense.” The smile faded. “And all of this has been more than a little hard on her.”
“She’s a real athlete, though. She’s put two horses through their paces since she got back. They were a bit unruly but she handled them expertly.”
“Uh-oh - she doesn’t paddock ride much - usually only when she needs to work off steam. I’d guess she’s not happy with the outcome of her talk with Craig.”
“Not much chance that was going to go well, anyway, I’d think.” Dirks stepped back slightly and Avery realized just how close he’d been standing to her in the shadows beyond the paddock lights. And how right it had felt that he be that close.
She cleared her throat but her voice still sounded a bit husky to her own ears when she told him, “I found everything you thought you’d need.”
“Good. Let’s get the truck unloaded, shall we?”
It’s to be hoped that Mr. Military has made significant progress in safeguarding things here while we were in town. I must inspect his handiwork at the first opportunity although I suspect it will be impeccably done. Whatever his stated purpose – or his true but more subversive one – in being here, I sense he would throw his life on the line, as it were, to protect and serve. Failure is not an option, and all that. He would, no doubt, consider any harm to this facility while he is present a failure of monumental proportions.
While the bipeds have their exchange of the mundane, cable produced, examined and pronounced just right ... blah, blah, blah ... I shall have a look about. At some point, these two humanoids may realize, accept and act upon their mutual physical attraction. Alas, for them, it is equally possible they will not. Regardless, I haven’t the time or inclination to witness either eventuality except as it pertains to the resolution of the threats facing Ms. Gorgeous.
At a glance, this is not the most complex case I’ve taken on. Strong female weds inferior male whose true colors come to light over the course of time. Strong female discards and divorces. Inferior male attempts to take by stealth or force what he has not earned. And yet, because I am an enlightened and self-aware creature, I must acknowledge that there is something I’m yet missing in all of this. There’s a nuance that tugs at my highly developed analytical skills which warns I must blend the apparent with the cryptic to arrive at the truth. To use a rather hackneyed truism, I remain convinced that things are not entirely as they seem.
I may have been remiss in not digging deeper into the tragic deaths of Mr. Danson’s daughter and wife. Accidental drowning? Suicide? Perhaps. Yet perhaps not, two deaths in quick succession do seem too much of a coincidence. Was there motive for murder in either and is the remaining daughter now at risk? Digging through online news archives seems a good task to accomplish in the sweltering heat of tomorrow’s midday. For now, I’ll traverse the perimeter of the ranch proper, the better to sniff out any human predator. Though what my Tammy Lynn calls heat lightning flickers in the distance, I don’t believe I will be at any risk of a drenching. After that, however, well ... a feline detective of the first order must have adequate shut-eye for cognitive thinking.
Hmmm, now there’s an oddity, one of the young equines is snorting at the water trough. I’ll just jump up to the ledge that surrounds it to make a closer observation. Uh-oh. That’s not good. A dead bird floating. I wouldn’t want to drink that nastiness either. And enough of an oddity to make me want to look further. Each paddock and pasture has its own water trough, sized to fit the number of animals it accommodates.
Fortunately for me – and conveniently for the humans, of course – the water troughs are all on the barn side of fences. All speedily checked.
Worse and worse. A dead bird could have occurred naturally but a deceased rodent in the next? I think not. Time for the humanoids to realize what’s been done and get this mess cleaned up.
Avery looked down at the sleek, black cat with his claws in the hem of her jeans. He’d been twining through her legs and ‘talking’ to her more and more urgently while she helped Dirks lay out the fiber. She knew he had to be hungry and he sure wasn’t much for the dry cat food she kept fresh for him in the kitchen. Unlike the horses, her own mealtimes were never on any kind of schedule and she didn’t want Trouble’s needs neglected because she’d gotten busy on some task or another. She knew he ate from the bowl from time to time but he preferred to wait until there was opportunity to join in her meal – at least the menu items that appealed to him.
“You were the one who decided to stow away on the ride to town, mister. Leanne or Tucker possibly would’ve taken pity and fed you if you’d been here. I’ll be done here shortly and we’ll eat.”
In response, Trouble walked his front paws up the denim of her jeans, stretching his full length along her leg.
“Just a few more minutes.” Avery reached down to rub the cat’s ears and found her hand snagged lightly by an unsheathed claw. “Hey,” she said softly, “what’s up with you?”
As those intelligent green eyes stared up into hers, she accepted that the feline didn’t have his stomach on his mind for once.
Dirks seemed to have reached the same conclusion as he said, “I think we’d better see what this guy wants.”
Trouble dropped to four paws at the statement and once ag
ain had Avery wondering - truly wondering - if the cat, rather than acting on intonation as most animals did, understood their actual words. It should have been an eerie thought but somehow it wasn’t.
She supposed it would have looked odd to an observer for the two humans to fall in step behind the cat, picking up their pace as – after a glance back to ascertain their obedience – he began to trot toward the closest field. Fortunately, none of her team was around to witness.
Moments later, she forgot how silly they might have appeared as she stared in horror at the dead animal floating just below the surface of the water. Not a bird, her mind registered. That would have been a concern but it did happen from time to time. They kept bleach handy because diseased birds sought water and sometimes perished in their attempt to drink. But never had she seen a rat drown in one of the troughs.
“I need to check the other fields,” she said numbly.
Apparently satisfied he had their attention focused in the right direction, Trouble no longer attempted to lead or corral them but kept pace as she and Dirks walked in silence from one pasture and one trough to the next. She was sickened as they found one dead animal after another floating in water that was critical to the horses’ well-being.
At the last tub, she turned to Dirks and said slowly, “This doesn’t fit. Nothing fits together. It’s almost as if I’m dealing with two different threats.”
Dirks nodded. “This is more along the lines of childish temper. Like your tack being slashed by your ex. Nothing as dangerous as bullets fired.”
For a moment, she wanted to agree but it was worse than Dirks, who didn’t know the world of horses, could realize at first glance. “This is very dangerous to the animals. Horses won’t drink contaminated water. That’s why I won’t use self-watering systems though that technology has become much better in recent years. We check each water source every single day.”
“So this was done at some point during the last twenty-four hours?” Dirks sounded dubious.
Trouble in Summer Valley Page 7