Page 103 of Cowboy Heat

I’m about to point out that Kissy isn’t the authority on the man, but she looks me right in the eye, and I’m all in.

“Grant had a gun, but he was swinging around his knife instead,” she starts. “At the Fulton House and in the woods before that. Even when you put him flat on the ground, he still kept to the knife. Why would he risk himself like that?”

The question seems trivial—everyone has a weapon they’re more comfortable with—but I realize even though she’s stopping talking, she isn’t done with her thought.

And just like that, I’m there with her.

I turn to the detective.

“Do you have a picture of the knife that Grant had on him?”

Detective Wayland brings out her phone and nods.

Then her eyes widen.

Still, she keeps her thoughts to herself and holds up the phone when she gets to the picture in question. I go around the island to stand to her left while Kissy gets up to stand to her right.

The knife is big. Too big to wear casually.

“It’s a fixed blade,” I say. “As sharp as it is, it’s tricky to carry those around. I think he had a holster for it on his wrist the way he slung it out.”

Detective Wayland confirms he did.

“The blade’s straight forward. Carbon steel, I’m guessing. Not military though. Looks older.” I tilt my head on reflex as I look at the picture. “There’s a brand right there, but it’s worn off.” I point to a spot beneath the hilt. “The handle’s worn too. It’s definitely an older model of whatever brand this is. Again, not exactly something you have casually on you.”

The three of us don’t say a word as Detective Wayland scrolls back to find another picture.

It’s from the night before and of another knife, Kissy’s hardwood flooring beneath it.

She zooms in on the picture.

Kissy makes a noise.

Detective Wayland cusses.

I’m taking in the details.

“Carbon steel, combat, fixed blade, worn handle, and a brand that’s faded.” I shake my head. “Grant and the man who attacked Kissy have the same damn knife.”

“What does that mean?” Kissy’s voice sounds far off.

My anger is up close.

“It means that the grave might have been a bonus, and Grant and Louis were there for you. Just like the masked man.”

Detective Wayland stands, pocketing her phone.

“It also means that if there’s anyone else involved with them, then Kissy’s still a target,” she says this to me. “Which means Guidry probably isn’t the one pulling the strings if these are the guys gunning for him. It also makes my decision to call Deputy Myers out all the more reasonable.”

I open my mouth to point out that if we suspect the sheriff of something, then calling in a deputy probably isn’t prudent, but Detective Wayland puts her hand up again in a stop motion to cut me off.

“We’re all working off of the vouching system, and I’ll more than gladly vouch for him,” she says. “He’s the only one who shares my disdain for Guidry, and to be blunt, I’ve seen every side of that man, even in and out of bed. I trust him.”

She points to the front door.

“Instead of him watching the entrance to the ranch without you knowing, he’s going to park outside of this house to give a law enforcement presence. At least for tonight.” Detective Wayland levels us with one broad, sweeping look. “We have no idea which way any of this is going, so until I know more, I’m telling you two to rest up.” She sighs. “I feel like we’re going to need it by the end of this thing.”

I can’t complain past that.