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Not only because Sergeant Wayne Shelton of the Cottonwood County Sheriff’s Department would order everyone to keep a lid on chatter — and be obeyed — but also that the sheriff’s department had sent their best.
“Murder?” Audrey asked, voicing what popped into all our minds.
“At least suspicious.” I turned to Dale. “When did this happen?”
“Someone at the ranch found him dead real early this morning and called 9-1-1. The sheriff’s department just left the scene. That’s when I picked it up and contacted some people. Not that they told me much. I should have gotten it earlier—”
“Not with Shelton keeping the lid on,” I said firmly.
“Why are you still there, Elizabeth?” Mike asked. “Get to the ranch. Find out what’s going on. You and Diana.”
“And get the story,” Audrey added. “You’ve got time to do a package for the Five. Then, for the Ten—”
“Elizabeth needs to look into this deeper than the live story,” Mike said.
“We’ll get the color at the ranch. Send Nala to the sheriff’s department,” I said.
“With Shelton in charge? What will she get?” Audrey answered her own question. “The standup in front to sandwich around your footage from the ranch. Okay.”
“I’ll drive,” Diana said.
We’d get there faster that way. Scarier, but faster.
I held up a hand to delay the breakup of this group and not just to put off going along for the ride with Diana driving to a breaking story. “Wait. I want to know about this ranch — this dude ranch — first.”
Mike said, “Only know the general outlines. Started as a working ranch way back. Then some rich family bought it maybe in the 1950s or so. Think they kept it mostly for themselves. But then one of them came out to live permanently and he turned it into a dude ranch. That all happened long before I was born. That owner — Chester Barlow — died and his niece inherited.
“Family’s rich. The other Barlows are among the billionaire set over around Jackson. And I suppose Wendy — that’s Chester’s niece who owns Elk Rock Ranch now — is Cottonwood County’s billionaire. Did I miss anything, Diana?”
“That about covers it. I barely remember Chester dying. I tend to think of Wendy Barlow as always owning it.”
“Now get going,” Mike ordered.
CHAPTER TWO
“Relax,” Diana said, looking over at me in the passenger seat.
I really wished she wouldn’t do that. At the speeds she attained in this shock-absorber-less torpedo, a second looking at me could cover a couple miles.
This was when I most missed Jennifer working at KWMT-TV.
Her official title was news and production aide, but she was so much more. Including a whiz on the computer, which was why she was in the special program at Northwestern, instead of feeding me more background information on Keefer Dobey and Elk Rock Ranch. While taking my mind off Diana’s driving.
“Tell me more about the wedding plans,” the driver herself said.
Close your eyes and think of England was supposedly advice from aristocratic English mothers to brides before their first sexual experience.
I turned toward the passenger window so Diana didn’t see me close my eyes against her driving and tried to think of my wedding.
“You already know most of it,” I said.
She’d heard about it as the major battles had been fought, the division of territories determined, the refugees resettled.
I suppose I shouldn’t talk about my upcoming wedding in terms of war, though it felt like campaigns were waged. Not nearly dirty enough, however, to liken them to political campaigns.
Besides, they were waged by people I love. Mostly.
At the outset, I’d lost my attempt at a quicky make-it-legal at the county courthouse event to be followed by a gathering of friends and family, perhaps several such gatherings to keep them low-key and casual.
