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“I’ll figure it out. But first, we need to find Wayne and Les. One problem at a time. My cattle come first.”

“You won’t have to worry about your cattle if you lose the ranch.”

The corners of her mouth turned downward. “I refuse to believe that will happen.”

Catalina wove her way through the tables with a big plastic tub balanced on one hip. “We’re down one busboy as well as Kelly. Must be something going around.” She cleaned up the dishes and wiped the table. “I guess you heard about Dusty? Papa told me last night.”

Mona nodded. “Yeah.”

Reed and Mona helped Catalina place dishes and cups in the tub.

“I don’t like to speak ill of the dead,” Catalina said, “but I have a feeling he had it coming to him. Working for you, dipping in your uncle’s pocket and probably knee deep in the cattle rustling as well.”

“That’s why we’re here.” Mona placed the last glass on top of the rest of the dishes. “I think Dusty is dead because he knew too much about the rustling. Cat, have you seen Les and Wayne this morning?”

“No. But someone mentioned they’d gone to Oklahoma to one of the casinos last night. Maybe they didn’t make it back. Why? Do you think they’re involved as well?”

“We don’t know. But they might have some answers.” Mona’s gaze shot to the door. “Great. Just when I thought the day couldn’t get worse.”

The Teague Oil & Gas men held the door open and a woman stepped into the diner, looking as if she was walking into a fancy restaurant in New York City. She wore a tailored navy blue suit that fit her slim body to perfection and complemented her pale complexion. Although she walked as if she owned the place, dark circles shone through the carefully applied concealer, and her eyes darted from person to person inside the diner. When she spotted Kuhn, her brows arrowed downward and she turned around in the doorway.

The two Teague speculators blocked her way. When they moved to let her pass through to the street, she hesitated, her hands fluttering. Instead of leaving, she straightened and made her way to a table in the middle of the diner, her head held high. She sat with her back to the door, casting sideways glances at Kuhn.

Mona eyed the group as if waiting for them to converge on her and talk her into selling. She recognized the two men, but not the woman. “Who is she?” she asked.

Catalina snorted softly. “You recognize the guys as the speculators who work for Teague Oil & Gas. Well, meet Teague.”

“She’s Teague?”

“Patricia Teague, widow of Andrew Teague. She comes to town once in a while, I guess to check on her investments.”

“What’s she doing in the diner?”

“I don’t know.” Catalina shifted a few plates and glasses in the tub. “But the way things have been this morning, you’d think this place was Grand Central Station. Did you hear about the guy who got run off the road last night?”

Mona shook her head. “No.”

“Some guy from Amarillo wrecked just outside Prairie Rock. His truck was flipped, killing him instantly.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Yeah, half the deputies in the county were in here earlier after cleaning up the accident scene. They said there were black paint marks on the back of the bumper. They think he was forced off the road. A hit-and-run. That and Dusty’s death have been the talk of the morning.”

Mona’s face grew serious. “Do they know who it was? Anyone we know?”

“Not anyone I know.” Catalina tipped her head to the left and stared at the ceiling. “Someone named Dilbert or Gilbert Dean, I think. Something like that.”

Reed’s heartbeat sped up. “Could it have been Gil Deiner?”

“That’s the name.” Catalina lifted the tub onto her hip. “Look at me gossiping. Let me dump this stuff and grab a headache pill. I’ll be right back for your order.”

“No hurry, Cat.” Mona waited until Cat moved away before whispering, “Another witness gone. We have to find Les and Wayne.”

Reed agreed with Mona. He was leaning forward to stand and suggest they drive around town looking for the two, when another thought occurred to him. He sat back in his seat. “What if they were the ones who forced Gil off the road?” He didn’t want Mona anywhere near the two men in that case.

The diner door opened and Grace Bryson walked in, her steps slow and labored. She turned to thank her husband for holding the door, giving him the lopsided smile of one recovering from a stroke. Despite the distortion, the soft look of love for her husband was evident in her eyes. She looked almost as young and beautiful as the picture of her and William on their wedding day. The wrinkles around her eyes and mouth only accentuated her maturity.

To Reed, she’d always been the most beautiful mother a kid could have.