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“He didn’t do this.”
“How do you know? Was the divorce amicable?”
She shook her head and laughed.
“Not at all. I filed while he was in prison for drug possession and child endangerment.”
“Child endangerment?”
“Yes. He took my daughter with him to a drug deal,” she growled. “To this day, I want to throat-punch him for that.”
“Is he still in prison?”
“No. He was released early for good behavior. What a crock. He called me last week and told me he wanted to see Zoey, our-mydaughter.”
“Does he have visitation?”
“None. The judge ruled he was dangerous to her and terminated his parental rights. The last time he saw her, she was just eighteen months old.”
“All right. I’ll return to the office and work on these tracks.”
“Thank you,” she said as she opened the door and stepped out.
“Where is he now? Did he say?”
“Missouri.”
Alex nodded. “What’s his name? I’ll make sure.”
“Travis Martin. Do you need my number?” He wrote the name down.
“No, ma’am. It’s in the file. Unless you have a second one?”
“Just the cellphone. Thank you, Agent Reeves. I hope to hear from you.”
“Do you trust your employees?”
“I do. I can guarantee they had nothing to do with this.”
“All right, but I want their names.”
“I can email you, their information.”
“I’d appreciate it.” He told her his email address and she entered it into her phone. “I’ll be in touch.”
She nodded, closed the door, and walked to the barn. She was overwhelmed with defeat. Her bulls were her livelihood. She wondered how she’d keep up with supply and demand after losing one of her best bulls.
As soon as she entered the barn, she turned to watch Agent Reeves drive away. What an attractive man, but despite being a livestock agent, he was a cowboy.
With a quick shake of her head, she strolled through the barn and entered her office. She trusted her workers to do their jobs and watch over the bulls, but losing one would cause a problem, as she didn’t want to buy another breeder. It had to be proven as a good breeder, or it would do her no good. If Toga wasn’t recovered, she’d have no choice but to look into it.
She pulled her cellphone from her pocket, scrolled through it, found the number for MDOL, called it, and sat behind her desk.
“Montana Department of Livestock. How may I direct your call?” a female voice asked.
“Yes, ma’am. This is Dylan Walters. I had an agent show up at my place because my bull was stolen, and I’d like to verify his name.”
“Oh, yes, ma’am. What’s the name?”
