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And the next.
* * *
A week went by, and nothing happened. No attacks, no death threats. Nothing.
Moe found it difficult to maintain his vigilance. But he did. Since no one had tried to nab Breely, they ventured out, visiting local parks. Moe bought Breely a fishing pole and took her fishing in the nearby river. They cleaned the fish they caught and brought them back to Cookie to prepare in his kitchen.
When she needed hard physical exercise, Breely mucked the stalls in the barn and lunged the few horses that lived on the property.
On some evenings, Breely worked waiting tables in the bar. She liked being busy.
Moe would help by bussing tables, just to be close to her.
Though they enjoyed their outings, Breely seemed bored. She’d worked on a ranch her entire life. Hard work was what she did. The tavern had kept her moving, never lacking something to do.
Once or twice during the day, she’d log onto her laptop and conduct a meeting with the people working different areas of the Brantt Philanthropic Foundation. She dressed nicely and applied the makeup she’d purchased at a store in town before entering a Zoom meeting.
Moe stayed close by, admiring how beautiful she was. At the rate they were going and the amount of time they spent in each other’s company, he was doomed. When he’d divorced, he’d vowed to never marry again.
Yet, here he was daydreaming about what it would be like when they were older, grayer and sitting on a front porch swing with their grandchildren playing at their feet.
He spent every night with her in his arms. He woke with Breely’s naked body spooned into his.
He could get used to that. Hell, he already was. Moe never wanted it to end.
They were drinking lemonade on the back porch of the lodge, letting their food digest after one of Cookie’s amazing meals.
Stone came out on the porch. “Got a text from Hank. He wants us to tap into a video call for an update.”
Moe rose from the swing and pulled Breely to her feet. They’d had updates several times that week. They’d go to the war room and bring up the video conference software. Hank or Swede, or both, would appear and talk through what they’d learned. So far, all they’d done was knock names of potential suspects off the list. None of the names had come up in criminal databases or online news articles.
Swede and Kyla had promised to dig deeper. Moe translated that to mean hacking into bank and phone records of some of the people who’d been released from employment on the Brantt ranch.
Stone was first through the door into the war room. Kyla was on the computer, paging through data, determined to find something.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“More than ready,” Breely murmured. “Yes.”
The big screen at the end of the conference table blinked. Hank and Swede appeared side by side.
“How are you holding up?” he asked.
“All is quiet here at the lodge,” Moe said.
“Too quiet,” Breely agreed. “What do you have?”
“Got information back on Cody West,” Swede said.
Breely frowned and leaned forward. “What kind of information?”
“First of all, he’s married with three kids, all under five years old,” Hank said.
“Good for him,” Breely said. “What does that have to do with me?”
“He’s defaulted on his mortgage loan,” Swede frowned. “The bank is foreclosing on his home in Bozeman.”
“Again,” Breely said, “what does that have to do with me?”
