Page 69 of Untamed Sinner

"Designer riding jacket." I fight the urge to pull her onto my lap. "Not fashion. Equestrian. The cut, the stretch panels, the stitching. Custom or European." I zoom in on the boots. "Parlanti, maybe De Niro. Handcrafted. Fifteen hundred dollars once you add the custom fitting."

"So she's rich."

"Maybe." I enlarge the image again. "Or she spends time with people who are. Money buys clothes. Old money buys habits."

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No logos. Everything fits perfectly. She’s standing like she’s been on a horse since she could walk.” I tap the screen. “People who buy riding clothes for the aesthetic don’t wear the boots in.”

Mandy's quiet for a moment, studying the image. "What's that?"

"What's what?"

She points at the screen. "There. On the saddle behind her. That shadow."

I zoom in on the area she's indicating. There's a saddle resting on a rack in the background, partially visible. And on the saddle flap, there's a mark—faint, but distinct.

"Brand," I say. "Or a maker's mark."

"Can you enhance it?"

I pull up the image enhancement tools and isolate the section. The software processes for a few seconds, then renders a clearer version. The mark is still shadowed, but the shape is visible now: a stylized W with what looks like a mountain peak integrated into the design.

"That's not a saddle maker's mark," Mandy says. "That's a ranch brand."

She's right. I've seen enough Montana ranch brands to recognize the style. "Which means this photo was taken on a specific property."

"Can you search it?"

"I can try." I screenshot the enhanced brand and open the ranch brand database. Montana requires all livestock brands to be registered with the state. The database is public record, searchable by design.

I upload the image and run it through the pattern recognition software.

The search takes longer than usual—the brand is partially obscured, which means the software has to run multiple iterations with different parameters. Mandy shifts beside me, her hand coming to rest on the back of my chair.

"Come on," she murmurs. "Give us something."

The software pings. Three potential matches.

I pull them up side by side. The first two are close but not quite right—the mountain peak is wrong, the proportions off. But the third one⁠—

"There." Mandy points at it. "That's it."

She's right. The W, the mountain peak, even the slight curve to the base. It's a perfect match.

I click on the entry. The registration information loads.

Brand: Whitlock Mountain W

Registered Owner: Whitlock Cattle Company

Location: Paradise Valley, Montana

Registration Date: 1879

"1879." Mandy whistles. "That's⁠—"

"Old money," I finish. "Very old money."