Page 11 of Deacon (Men of Clifton, Montana #52)

Late afternoon sunlight slanted across the blacktop driveway as Deke eased his truck to a stop in front of the house.

He killed the engine. Deke straightened his badge on his belt, while Rawley and Killian got out behind him, each squinting down the long yard to the three barns, then he led the way to the front door

“Damn, what a place,” Killian murmured.

Deke pressed the doorbell and waited. The heavy door swung open a crack, revealing the same woman he’d seen before. Her hair was pinned back haphazardly, and worry creased her forehead.

“Agent Anderson,” she said breathlessly. “What can I do for you?”

Deke offered a polite nod. “I need to see Mr. Winchester. I have a search warrant for the premises.”

“A search warrant?” The color drained from her face.

He met her gaze. “Yes, ma’am. If you could get him, please.”

She swallowed hard and stepped back. “I’ll—I’ll be right back.” The door closed decisively behind her.

Deke turned to the men. Killian’s gaze was pinned on the barns across the yard. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she comes back and says he’s not here,” he muttered.

Deke shrugged. “Then I’ll show her the warrant, and we’ll move on to those barns.” He nodded toward the three looming wooden structures across the yard.

Rawley checked the chamber of his sidearm before answering, “We’ll find him.”

Minutes ticked by. The silence grew heavy. Deke pounded on the door this time and raised his voice. “Montana Department of Livestock,” he called, “Open up!”

At last, the door opened. The woman stood framed by dim light. Her shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry, but he’s not here,” she whispered.

“Did you give him time to leave? Is that why it took you so long to come back?” Killian asked with a shake of his head.

Deke leaned forward, his tone firm but respectful. “Ma’am, you are his wife, correct?”

She bit her lip. “Yes, but—”

“Here’s a copy of the warrant.” He handed her the papers. “We’re starting in the barns. We’ll circle back to search the house. You’ll get a receipt for any items we confiscate.”

Her hand hovered over the forms. “What kind of items?”

“Phones, laptops, desktop computers, anything we think will have evidence on it,” he said simply. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. Are Winchester’s kids here?”

She hesitated. “Only Derrick and Tommy are home. Teddy and Johnny are out.”

Rawley exhaled softly. “Probably hiding.”

“We’ll find them.” Deke touched the brim of his hat. “Ma’am, we’ll be right back.”

Together, he, Rawley, and Killian strode across the yard, pulling on latex gloves, heading toward the barns, then each entered one.

At the first barn, Deke pushed open a door.

Dust motes danced in the slanting light.

In the wide central aisle three livestock haulers sat in a neat row, their rubber tires muddy.

Deke withdrew his phone from his pocket and snapped close-ups of each tread pattern, careful to capture serial numbers scrawled on the sidewalls.

His phone buzzed. He swiped it open to read Rawley’s text.

There are two pickup trucks in the middle barn. I’ll get photos of the tires.

Great. I’ve got three haulers here. Check with Killian after you’re done. Deke sent back.

A few tense minutes later another buzz.

Killian said there are three pickups in the barn where he is, so he’s taking photos. We’ll meet you out front.

Deke stepped back, scanning the rafters for hidden compartments.

He climbed a ladder that led to the hayloft.

He looked around but saw nothing suspicious.

After climbing down, he pushed through the barn doors into the bright afternoon, he found Rawley emerging from the middle building.

Killian rounded the corner of the third barn, phone in hand.

“Let’s head back to the house,” Deke said. “We’ll seize all computers, devices, and phones when we get there.”

“Will do,” Killian replied with a brisk nod.

“I’ll get some evidence bags from your truck, Deke,” Rawley said.

The three men crossed the wide front yard together, the sun setting high in the blue sky. Their boots clicking on the asphalt, each step echoing faintly in the still afternoon. Long, dark shadows stretched behind them like reaching fingers as they neared the door.

Deke paused at the threshold and rapped sharply on the oak door. It swung open almost instantly, revealing Mrs. Winchester’s startled face. He didn’t wait for an invitation. With Killian and Rawley close behind, he pushed past her into the foyer.

“Holy shit,” Rawley murmured, looking around the inside of the house.

“We’ll start upstairs,” Deke announced, glancing at Killian and Rawley. Then he turned back to Mrs. Winchester, whose knuckles were white around the doorframe. “Ma’am, we need all laptops, cellphones, tablets—any electronic devices in the house.”

She pushed the door closed, took a small step back, eyes wide. “Why are you taking my things? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Everyone in this house is under suspicion,” Deke said evenly. “Either you hand them over, or we’ll seize them.”

Her lip trembled. She reached into her coat pocket and produced her smartphone, placing it in an evidence bag Rawley held open. “My laptop is in the bedroom,” she whispered.

“Lead the way.”

She guided them up a wide, winding staircase. A panel of stained glass halfway up scattered colored light over the walls. At the top, she paused before a white door and hesitated, as if steeling herself.

Inside the bedroom, afternoon light lay across warm hardwood floors and an oak desk where a silver laptop waited. Mrs. Winchester pointed. Deke lifted it and placed it in a bag. Each time, a receipt was written and handed to her. “Where’s your husband’s?”

“In his office, but he probably has his phone with him,” she said.

Deke nodded. “We’ll get it later. Now, the kids’ rooms, please.”

She exhaled and led them first to Derrick’s. He sat up in bed that was strewn with comic books and model planes, blinking owlishly at the intruders.

“Derrick,” Mrs. Winchester said softly, “these men have a warrant for your phone and laptop.”

Derrick’s shoulders dropped. “Why me?”

Deke produced the warrant. “It’s not just you. We need every device in the house.”

“Will I get them back?” His voice wavered on hope.

“Maybe,” Deke replied. “But don’t expect a quick turnaround.”

Derrick let out a defeated sigh. “I guess I’ll have to play video games, then.”

“For a while,” Deke confirmed. Derrick put the smartphone and a slim laptop into a large paper bag, and flopped back onto the bed, scowling but subdued.

Next, Mrs. Winchester led them to another door. She opened it gingerly. Inside, Tommy leapt off his mattress, scattering a rumpled blanket.

“Marlee! I told you to knock!” he snapped at his stepmother in the hallway. Then his eyes widened when he spotted the men with protective vests on with Livestock Agent embroidered on them. “What the hell is this?”

“These men are from the Montana Department of Livestock,” Mrs. Winchester said. “They need your phone and laptop.”

Tommy crossed his arms. “Tough shit. I’m not giving you anything.”

Rawley stepped forward, broad-shouldered and calm. “We have a warrant. Hand them over.”

Tommy’s chin jutted defiantly. “No way.”

Killian’s voice was slow and even, “Actually, you will. Don’t make it harder on yourself.”

Deke watched Tommy’s defiance flicker. “You’re eighteen,” he reminded quietly. “If you resist, you could be charged as an adult.”

Tommy sneered. “Charged for what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Then you won’t mind handing over your devices,” Deke said.

Rawley sighed, feigning exhaustion. “Kid, I’m too tired for this. Put the phone and laptop into these bags.”

After a tense moment, Tommy’s shoulders slumped. He retrieved his phone and laptop and tossed them on the bed.

“There,” he muttered.

Deke gathered them. “Thank you. You’ll get them back, assuming nothing incriminating turns up.”

Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “What are you investigating?”

Deke met his gaze. “Cattle stolen from the Hollister ranch.”

Tommy’s face paled. Rawley, shifting weight from one boot to the other, raised an eyebrow and studied the boy’s reaction.

“If you know who’s involved, you should tell us,” Rawley said quietly.

Tommy’s nostrils flared. “Fuck you. I don’t have to say a damn thing.”

“Nice.” Rawley looked at Deke, then back to the kid. “Son—”

“I am not your son!”

Rawley stepped forward, inches from Tommy’s face. “You’re damn right you’re not because if you were, you sure as shit wouldn’t talk back to me.”

Deke stepped between them; hand raised. “All right. Let’s move on.”

Rawley straightened, eyeing the confiscated devices. “You’d better hope there’s nothing on these,” he warned, “because if there is, I’ll enjoy coming back to arrest your skinny ass.”

Tommy’s bravado faltered, leaving him pale and silent. Deke allowed himself a brief, satisfied smile.

“Now, Teddy’s and Johnny’s rooms,” Deke said, his voice firm with purpose. “Then I want to search Mr. Winchester’s home office.”

“Follow me. This is Teddy’s room, Johnny’s is the next one,” Mrs. Winchester replied, her tone resigned as she led them down a dimly lit hallway to two more rooms. Inside, the rooms were tidy but conspicuously devoid of electronics; both laptops and phones were missing, leaving only empty power cords dangling from outlets.

“Where are they?” Deke asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Winchester admitted, her voice tinged with frustration. “They barely speak to me, so I honestly can’t say.”

“Do they always take their laptops when they leave?” Killian inquired, examining the neat, untouched surfaces of the desks. He pulled drawers open, but Deke saw there was nothing there they could take .

“I’ve never seen them do it before, but I don’t keep an eye on them all the time,” she confessed, glancing around as if the devices might suddenly reappear.

Killian exchanged a knowing look with Deke. “They knew we were coming back. Winchester warned them.”