Page 62 of The Cowboy’s Reckoning

“He’ll want to see me,” Jordan said.

“Tell him it’s about a cow,” Burke added helpfully. “A dead one.”

The woman gave them a wary look, then took a few steps down the hall and opened the heavy door to Connery’s office.

“I thought I told you not to help,” Jordan said in a low voice.

Burke shrugged.

Despite hushed tones, Jordan could make out some of the conversation in Connery’s office. He hoped the guy didn’t climb out a window after his associate described Burke.

“He’ll see you,” she said, her face set in rigid lines.

Connery’s expression was livid when they entered the room and Burke closed the door behind them. “I told you that I had nothing to do with that cow.”

“Not even by proxy?” Jordan asked.

Connery twitched, which was all Jordan needed.

“I want the name of your client. The one who wanted to buy the Willow Creek.”

“I can’t give you that.”

“Why?”

Connery’s gaze shifted as Burke made a low sound in his throat. “Because it’s an LLC, not a person. I only spoke to a representative.”

“Why not just say that upfront?”

“They preferred I did not.” He adjusted the lapels of his jacket as he spoke.

Connery was regaining his composure, and Jordan couldn’t let that happen. Burke seemed to sense this, too. He started to speak, but Jordan gave him a not-so-subtle nudge with his elbow.

“I want the name of the LLC. And the rep.”

“I have some things in the works with this company. I can’t have you screwing that up by making unfounded accusations.”

“Not an answer,” Jordan said, leaning his palms on the desk. “Tell me something, Jess. Have you hired someone to harass my tenants?”

Connery didn’t so much as blink. “What do you mean?”

“You know what we mean,” Burke said with a sneer.

Jordan didn’t try to rein him in.

“I know shit,” Connery said, his gaze flicking from Jordan to Burke as he answered.

Burke was a big man, and Connery was right to be wary.

“Joe Whitney?” Jordan asked.

The color drained from Connery’s face.

The man’s blood vessels were getting a workout that day. “Never heard of him,” he gritted out.

“Give me the name of the LLC and we’ll go away.” He glanced at Burke, then back at Connery. “Easy as that.”

Connery shifted in his chair as Burke folded his arms over his chest. “If you screw things up for me, you’ll regret it.” His tone lacked conviction.