Page 20 of Wyoming Bodyguard (Sunrise Security #1)

I rritation rolled off Lily in waves. She watched Deputies Silver and Hill drive away, followed by the coroner office’s white van, and wanted to scream.

Nothing at the scene pointed to a murder, and the two sheriff’s deputies all but patted the top of her head and called her pretty when she voiced her theory.

But Madden believed her.

For the first time in her life, Madden made her feel like she could contribute more than what was expected of her. She was smart, capable and, damn it, she was the only one here who knew the man who’d just died.

“I don’t care what they say. He didn’t kill himself. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Madden rested a hand on her shoulder and gently kneaded her stiff muscles. “What you said makes a lot of sense, and I think they listened to you. They agreed to look into the death more, even though nothing on the body or in the barn showed evidence of anything happening beyond what it appears.”

“How hard will they look? I could see the doubt in their eyes, in the way they exchanged glances when they thought I wasn’t paying attention.

Not to mention everything else they have on their plate.

Proving what they think was a suicide was murder can’t be that high on their priority list right now, especially when it helps check boxes in their investigation. ”

He stopped the motion of his magic fingers along her neck. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “He was a person of interest and now he’s dead. This makes him look guilty. Like he was sorry for whatever it was that drove him to commit these crimes in the first place. It’d be easy for the deputies to lay all the blame at Daniel’s feet and tie it up in a nice tidy bow.”

“All their evidence against him is circumstantial,” Madden said. “I’d hate to think they’d throw in the towel and take the easy way out because they wouldn’t need a conviction anymore. But…”

Her eyes sharpened as he let his voice trail off. “But what?”

“I didn’t lie when I said I trust your gut.” He lifted his palms as if already in surrender of an argument he anticipated. “But if Daniel is responsible for your father’s shooting and everything else that’s come along with it, it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

“Excuse me?” She fisted her hands on her hips, prepared for a fight. Hell, she half wanted a chance to scream and stomp out her frustration.

The lines of his face softened. “Then you’d be out of danger, and I could stop being terrified someone will take you away from me.”

His words pierced her anger like a needle popping a balloon.

She shifted to lean against him and sighed.

“I get that, I do. And trust me, I want all of this to be over. I want to rest easy knowing I won’t wake up to a new emergency.

But my bones are telling me I’m right about Daniel. Now I need to prove it.”

Madden rested his chin on the top of her head and skimmed his knuckles along the sides of her biceps. “Okay. We can do that. Charlie told us Daniel didn’t have any family or close friends. Is there anyone at all you can think of we could talk to for information?”

Shaking her head, shame filled her. She’d meant it when she insisted Charlie and Daniel were trusted like family, but how could she know so little about their personal lives?

“Not really. We could go to his place, but I don’t have a key.

Hopefully the deputies will be diligent enough to at least look in his home. ”

“I’m sure they will,” he said. “What about the bunkhouse?”

“What about it?”

“You mentioned the ranch hands using the bunkhouse when you had a lot of guests and their workload increased. We did a quick glance the other day but didn’t look too hard. Do Charlie or Daniel ever keep personal belongings there?”

“I wouldn’t know. I respect their space and stay out. I’m not even sure if my dad goes in there.”

“Maybe it’s time we take a closer look.”

A beat of anticipation had her pulling away. There had to be something they’d missed. “Let’s go.”

She quickened her pace, leading the way to the bunkhouse. Determination set her jaw as she swung open the door and walked inside.

The interior of the structure resembled the guest cabins dotting the property, except wood paneling lined the walls instead of rounded logs.

Two sets of bunk beds took up most of the room, with a ratty brown recliner facing the old-fashioned tube TV on a tall stand.

A white oven and refrigerator nestled between a short counter and a farmhouse sink.

The cabinets were a dark stained oak. A bathroom could be found behind the lone door at the back of the space.

“Is it always unlocked?” Madden asked, stepping in behind her.

“Not sure. I assume they’d lock it if they were staying here, but there’s not really a reason to now.”

“Unless there’s something inside to hide.”

She studied the neat room, searching for anything that appeared out of place. “Guess we’ll find out. But I’ll ask Charlie. If they usually lock it, we should let the deputies know it wasn’t locked today.”

“Agreed. Let’s start looking.”

They went to work in silence. She was grateful that Madden went straight to the bathroom while she peeked inside the TV stand. When nothing but dust greeted her, she flipped up the footstool of the recliner to glance underneath and dipped her hand inside the crevices of the material.

“Men are gross,” she muttered, refusing to take a closer look at the crumbs she’d ran her hand over inside the chair.

Madden emerged from the bathroom. “Nothing in there except some toiletries and a man’s razor. Some towels.”

“All I’ve got are dust and crumbs.”

The side of his mouth hitched up. “Lucky you. I’ll check the kitchen.”

While he searched the cabinets, she made a beeline for one of the bottom beds. She tossed back the crisp, white bedding then dipped her hand under the mattress. When nothing turned up, she repeated the process with the top bed before searching the bottom of the metal structure.

“Anything?” she asked as she made her way to the second set of bunks.

“Just some canned corn and a box of pancake mix.”

Defeat crushed down on her shoulders. She hated the helplessness of watching tragedy continuing to unfold around her. But she refused to drown in her own sorrow. Instead, she turned to the bed, yanked back the covers and found a handful of brightly covered plastic tags. “What the hell?”

“What is it?” Madden hurried to her side and whistled long and low. “Well, that’s interesting.”

Her brows snapped together as she tried to make sense of the numbers on the tags. “What are they?”

“Cattle tags.”

“We don’t have any cattle on our ranch. Why would someone hide cattle tags in the bunkhouse?”

Madden grabbed his phone and snapped a few photos of what she’d found. “Not sure, but I know someone who might be able to help.”

“Who?” she asked, jumping to her feet.

“My dad.”

* * *

The smell of chili and corn bread met Madden at the front door. His stomach growled. Chili was a poker night tradition, the leftovers often heated up the next day in whatever creative way his dad could imagine.

“Hey, Pops,” he called out, ushering Lily through the door.

“I’m in the den. Grab a bowl and join me.” Walter’s voice carried down the hall over the hushed sounds of the television.

Lily hooked an eyebrow. “A bowl of what?”

“Chili. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to, but he won’t stop pestering me if I don’t take some.”

“Sounds good. I’m starving.”

He led her to the kitchen where the brown tablecloth once again covered the poker table.

A pot sat on the stove with a pan of corn bread beside it.

He found two bowls and ladled heaps of hearty soup into them both.

He carried the bowls to the living room, where his father sat watching a baseball game while eating his meal.

Walter slurped tomato juice from his spoon before waving to the couch on the side of his recliner. “Well, don’t just stand there. Sit and eat.”

Madden set the bowls on the coffee table then found two more TV trays. He set them up and motioned Lily to the couch.

“Thank you for the meal,” she said, sliding onto the cushion. “Smells delicious.”

“Nothing fancy, but it sticks to your ribs. How’s your dad?”

She flashed a small smile. “He’s as good as can be expected. Still holding out hope for a full recovery.”

“Good, good.” Walter nodded before dunking a chunk of corn bread in his bowl. “I have a feeling food and chitchat isn’t what brought you two over, so spill it.”

“We found some cattle tags, and I wanted to get your take on them.” Madden pulled up the photos he’d taken on his phone and flashed the screen in front of his dad.

“You know I can’t see that damn thing.” Walter grumbled and searched for his reading glasses on the cluttered stand beside him. His hand shook slightly as he perched the glasses on his nose then grabbed the phone. “Where’d you find these?”

Setting down her spoon, Lily clasped her hands in her lap. “In the bunkhouse back at my ranch. They were hidden in one of the beds.”

Walter frowned. “That’s strange. You’ve never had cattle over there.”

“No, sir. Cattle have never been one of our income streams. Do you have any idea why someone would have the tags?”

“Can’t be sure but sounds like someone was up to no good. Especially if they’d hid some other ranch’s cattle tags on your property. Why not ask whoever has access to the bunkhouse? They could answer you better than some old man who’s been out of the game for a while.”

Lily cleared her throat, her nerves on full display.

Madden wrapped her clenched hands in his own. “We spoke with one of the ranch hands on our way here and he claimed to have no knowledge of the tags. The other ranch hand is dead.”

Walter studied the screen. “And you think his death is connected to these tags?”

Madden shrugged. “We’re not sure.”

“One thing I do know is these tags are from different ranches.” Walter leaned forward to hand back the phone. “Each ranch has their own specific tag. Use the same color, same shape, same type of lettering. A couple of those tags matched, but most were different.”

“How could someone who worked for us get access to tags from other ranches?” Lily asked. “What would be the purpose?”

Madden’s gut dipped. There might be a couple of different answers to Lily’s question, but in his mind, one was glaringly clear.

And it didn’t paint a very pretty picture.

Walter met Madden’s gaze as if seeking permission to offer an explanation. He understood how hard it’d be for Lily to hear, but there was no way around it. Madden gave a tiny nod, encouraging his dad to continue.

“Have you ever heard of cattle rustling?” Walter asked.

Lily’s eyes grew wide. “You mean like stealing cattle?”

Walter nodded.

“You don’t really think that’s what was happening, do you?” She bounced her gaze between Madden and Walter, as if willing one of them to offer a different option.

“It’s hard to say.” Walter scratched the bottom of his chin. “But I don’t see any other reason someone would be in possession of so many different tags then hide them. This man who died, did he have any financial problems? Hardships?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

The heavy sensation in Madden’s gut turned hard as a rock. Daniel may or may not have had financial struggles in his life, but Tremont Ranch certainly did. “Any idea how much cattle are sold for these days?”

Walter let out a long, rattling sigh. “Son, it’s been years since I’ve sold cattle. I can’t say what the exact rate is these days.”

He loved his father’s modesty, but he also knew the old man kept a pulse on as much as he could since the day he’d sold his land. He may not be running a cattle ranch any more, but Walter McKay was still a rancher and would be until the day he died.

Shifting the tray to the side, he leaned forward to rest his forearms on his knees—his gaze found his dad’s. “I don’t need an exact amount. Just a ballpark figure. Hell, even an idea of what you sold one steer for years ago. That might be enough to put this damn puzzle together.”

“You’re looking at maybe around three dollars a pound, give or take. That fluctuates depending on the economy, as well as the costs associated with taking care of the animals.”

Lily’s jaw dropped. “How much does a cow weigh?”

If the circumstance wasn’t so serious, he’d laugh at Lily’s shock.

As a rancher, she’d have an idea of how much it’d cost to keep the steer alive, but she wouldn’t be privy to all the money ranchers put in to keep their cattle healthy.

“Depends, but at least five hundred pounds and up. If you pass a certain weight, the price can drop a little when selling.”

“So that many tags would mean thousands and thousands of dollars’ worth of stolen cattle.”

“Possibly,” Madden said, not wanting to jump to conclusions yet.

“How can we get to the bottom of this?” she asked.

Walter set his empty bowl on the end table and leaned back in his chair.

“Match those tags to their ranches. See if they’ve had cattle go missing lately.

Not much chatter ’round here about rustling but doesn’t mean it’s not happening.

Sometimes a missing steer or two is chalked up to a coyote or bear dragging it off.

If whoever took these tags was good enough, they’d move around the area.

Hell, they’d venture into neighboring states.

Stay under the radar as long as possible. ”

Lily rubbed her fingers in circles along her temple. “Maybe he didn’t stay off the radar long enough. But that still doesn’t tell us who is behind everything or how that’s related to the drugs we found.”

Madden didn’t want to say it, but odds were high only a few people could be the mastermind behind all the chaos surrounding Tremont Ranch. One of them claimed innocence, one was dead and one lay unconscious in a hospital bed.

Discovering that any one of them was a criminal would break Lily’s heart.