“I’ll be in touch,” Nick said into the phone and ended the call. He looked at Cain. They’d been friends for years, even before Nick had gone into the army. They had reconnected when Cain bought the Cross Bar Ranch and wanted background information on the men who worked there.
“You’re early,” Nick said. “Lucky for you, I’ve already got some intel for you.” He pointed to a wooden captain’s chair on the opposite side of the desk. “Have a seat.”
The office had the bare essentials, a desk with a computer on top, a couple of metal file cabinets, a pair of wooden chairs in front of the desk, and a small, barely functional kitchen in a tiny room next to the bathroom. The space was painted a dull off-white, and there were a couple of posters, photos of the Arizona desert, on the walls.
Nick believed that, aside from the time he spent on the computer, being in the office meant he wasn’t getting his work done.
“You want some coffee?” Nick asked.
Cain flicked a glance toward the tiny kitchen. “You call that day-old sludge you drink coffee?”
“Just brewed a fresh pot.”
“That’s a relief. Thanks, I could use some.”
Nick brought him a pottery mug with a cactus on the side and returned to his seat behind the desk, carrying a mug for himself.
Cain took a sip. It was hot and black, just the way he liked it. He hadn’t slept well last night, worrying about the Steel Cobras and Jenny. Maybe the coffee would help him focus. “So what have you got for me?”
“Let’s just say you aren’t the only one who’s been losing livestock. The Branch Creek Ranch out in Dewey had a couple of prize quarter horses stolen, rodeo stock that earned them a pretty penny in competition earnings. They were taken two days after your cutting horse went missing.”
“Dewey isn’t that far from the Cross Bar.”
“No, and two top-ranked Morgan show horses were stolen from the Four Winds Ranch near Cordes Lakes the week before the incident at your place. The ranch is a horse-boarding facility. Losing expensive livestock is not good for business.”
“So we’ve got a horse-thieving ring.”
“Looks like.”
“Interesting that all three thefts happened in Yavapai County. What’s the sheriff doing about it?”
“Deputy Landry says he’s working on it.”
“That’s what he told me. I prefer action over words. You got any ideas who might be responsible?”
“Good chance somebody local is feeding the thieves information. No way the thefts are random. There are a lot of horses out there, but somehow they managed to pick the most valuable.”
“Who would have that kind of information?” Cain asked.
“Could be as simple as digging around on the internet. It might take some time, but the info is probably out there.”
Cain pondered the notion, though it didn’t sit quite right in his head. “I guess you could find info on my stud. Sun King is an all-American cutting-horse champion. His offspring have won total earnings of over a million dollars. Plenty of articles written about him.”
“Same goes for the show horses. There’s info out there on them.”
“So somebody steals them. How are they getting rid of them?”
“Good question.”
“I’ve got some people who are good with computers,” Cain said. “They can find out just about anything.”
“Like who might have been searching ranch websites looking for valuable animals?”
“Exactly.” Cain rose from his chair. “Keep digging. I’m not convinced the internet is the answer.”
Nick stood up behind his desk. “Neither am I.”
“One more thing. I need a little info on a woman named Jenny Spencer. She’s working part-time for me at the Grandview. Born in Cottonwood. Owns the Copper Star Saloon and Hotel. See what else you can find out.”
