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Hank's spidey sense pulsated. Something was going on beyond the few verbal threats she’d told him about the other day. The truth of it crawled up his spine, sending off sparks of suspicion. “You sure you only had one drink last night?”
“You know what happened to my parents with the drunk driver. My limit has always been one.” She secured the leather belt around her waist, pulling the material tightly closed. Her fingers stilled and she looked up, fear darkening her eyes. “Do you think someone slipped something into my drink?”
The idea made sense. It explained why Beth had been so out of it. But it didn't account for the two guys who’d followed them into the chapel. The more he thought about it, the more certain he was she’d been targeted last night.
He sat down beside her on the bed. “Any idea why someone would have slipped you something and then followed you?”
Her face blanched. Her gaze fell to her lap, where her hands twisted the silk of her dress into a knot of worry.
“What aren't you telling me, Beth?”
She turned her dark-brown eyes toward him. Flecks of gold in her irises shimmered with unshed tears. “It's probably nothing, but you know someone is buying up the land around my grandparents’ house? They'll only buy if everyone agrees to sell. I'm the last holdout.”
Understanding dawned. The Lakota casino was set to open up next year in Council County. The tribe announced the casino would go near the Highway Five entrance to the reservation, but it hadn’t been finalized yet.
“You know, a lot of folks don’t believe the casino will go where the tribe announced. According to town gossip, plenty of people were gambling millions on land that may or may not lead to the new casino.” He strode to her side. “Whoever guesses right stands to make a fortune. Hotels, restaurants and other auxiliary businesses would pay top dollar to locate near the casino.”
With that kind of money at stake, Beth was playing a dangerous game without backup.
Hank wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her closer. “So that explains why you've been getting threats. Has anyone threatened you to your face?”
She snorted into his shoulder. “Mrs. Cranston said she'd always known you couldn't trust a Mexican to do the right thing.”
“Mrs. Cranston is an ignorant old bag who'd better hope she doesn't get caught speeding in Dry Creek County.”
Chuckling darkly, Beth pushed away from him. “Thanks.” She stood and started pacing, her bare feet leaving indentions in the plush carpet. “I've gotten some nasty anonymous phone calls and texts. Someone vandalized the house.”
He jumped up from the bed and grabbed her elbow, forcing her to stop pacing. “What?”
She kept her face averted. “Yeah, the day my car conked out for the billionth time, but nothing too bad. Some broken windows and spray-painted walls.”
Anger burbled inside of him, making his gut clench. “Why didn't you tell me when I gave you a ride home?”
“The house is just over the border in Council County. I reported it to Sheriff Wilcox. He said it was probably just kids partying in an abandoned house.”
He just bet the lazy, corrupt son of a bitch did think that. “So what's he going to do about it?”
“Nothing. Oh, he says he’ll look into the threats, but nothing ever happens.” She wrapped around her chest, her hands rubbing her upper arms. “He suggested I sell.”
“There must be a stream of stupid flowing into Council County's water supply.”
“Yeah, now you understand why I live in Dry Creek.” She smiled wanly at her tepid joke.
“Not that I want you to sell, but why haven't you?”
> “My grandfather built that house. He'd work a twelve-hour shift in the slaughterhouse and then turn around and spend his off hours building the house. It took him ten years to complete it. Sure, it's an ugly house, but it's my only tie to my family. It's all I have left of them.” A single tear slid over one high cheekbone, but fire burned in her gaze. “I won't sell. Ever.”
Now family, that he could understand.
“Okay. So tell me about last night.” He wanted to pull her into his arms, but she looked as skittish as a calf on branding day.
“I went to dinner with other conference speakers and attendees. We had reservations for a table at one of the hotel clubs, so we went there. I had a glass of pop at dinner, a champagne at the club, and then everything went fuzzy.”
“Anyone from home with you?”
“At the dinner, most everyone was from the firm. At the club there were several people from home. A few were already at the club when we got there.” She clutched a fist to her stomach. “Could the drug still be in my system?”
He was going to enjoy the feel of his fist crushing the jaw of whoever did this. “It's unlikely. Your symptoms sound like it was GHB or Rohypnol, and both tend not to leave trace evidence behind.”
