Page 46 of Cowboy Mountain Man

Alden turns toward us. “I know Pike.”

Harlan does, too. I can see it.

“Does he drive a dark pickup?” I ask.

“Yes,” Harlan says.

The room goes quiet.

I keep scrolling. There’s a forwarded message beneath the attorney’s instructions. A local phone number.

If you have any trouble getting in, Daniel can help.

“I have his number.”

Harlan puts his hand over the screen before I can touch it. “Don’t call.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

He looks at me.

“I was going to send it to the deputy.”

His hand lifts. “Good.”

I do exactly that. The reply comes a minute later.

Thank you. Stay with Mercer. We’ll follow up.

I look at Harlan. “I’m beginning to think I should’ve charged a rush fee.”

He crouches beside my chair. “You found something important.”

“I found somebody scheduling my arrival like an inconvenient dentist appointment.”

His hand rests against my knee. “I know.”

Alden ends his call. “Pike’s handled the place for years. Family kept paying him to check the roof, mow, deal with repairs.”

“And nobody checked him?” I ask.

Alden doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to.

Harlan leaves the room to speak with the sheriff. Alden steps onto the porch, keeping the front door open while he takes another call.

I stay at the table. Exactly where I’ve been told to stay.

My phone vibrates. An unfamiliar number. For a moment, I consider ignoring it. Then a photograph appears.

June.

The horse.

Standing outside Harlan’s barn. A rope runs from her halter to somebody’s hand beyond the edge of the picture.

The next message follows.

You took something that belongs to me.