Page 5 of The Wrangler and the Tenderfoot

Instead, I stared out at the land, the veins of barbed wire and the hunched, slow-moving cattle, and waited to see what would show up next.

Ten minutes later, my phone pinged with a text from Lacette.

Call me at your first break, darling. ⭐️ ?? 💋 ✨

I slipped out the back, trying to be casual and nonchalant in case anyone was looking, and crossed the packed dirt to my rental F-150, parked between a battered dually and an ancient green Suburban. I keyed the ignition, cranked the A/C, and plugged my phone into the dash. The truck's Bluetooth synced with an obnoxious ping, and the infotainment screen flashed up the last call received, "UNKNOWN, 832-555-1974."

I dialed.

It rang twice before Lacette answered. "Jennie, dear, you're up with the birds," she said, her voice crisp and honeyed, the same as it was in college. "I thought you'd sleep in, given the wildlife excitement last night."

I scanned the property line, then backed the truck down the driveway. "Sleep's overrated. Where are you?"

She laughed, a sharp, bright sound. "New York. Conference. I'm in a room full of men explaining succession law to each other, but you are a far more interesting update. Tell me everything. Have they managed to injure you yet?"

"Not yet," I said. "But it's not for lack of trying."

I swung onto the county road, heading east with no destination. "What's up?"

Silence. In the background, I heard a rustle of papers. "I'm getting antsy," she admitted. "It's been three days, and I've had no word from my favorite PI. Are the Colemans being their charming selves?"

"If by charming you mean treating me like vermin, then sure. They're delightful." I adjusted the phone volume and set my jaw. "Wyatt's the only one who acknowledges I exist. The rest might as well be on mute."

"Ugh. I met him at the last lease review. He's… ambitious."

That was one word for it. "Ambitious, and the only reason I haven't been quietly buried out past the windbreak."

"Oh, darling. They wouldn't dare. You're there on my authority. You can't be removed without my say-so, and Harlan knows it."

"Even so," I said, "I've got a feeling they're hoping I get bored and leave before I accidentally see anything they wouldn't want me to."

Another quick laugh, this one almost proud. "But you haven't. I picked the right girl."

I merged onto a dead-straight stretch of farm road, the ranch shrinking in my mirrors.

"Start with your cover story. Are they buying it?"

"They barely look at me. But the oil company angle seems solid. They think I'm just another survey drone, pun intended. The only hiccup is that my actual drone's fried, so I'm grounded until I can get a replacement."

A brief silence on the line. I pictured Lacette's lips pursed, her perfectly manicured fingers tapping on a lacquered table. "Can you work the ranch on foot? Or is it too risky?"

I weighed my answer. "I can, but it's slow. There are hands everywhere, and all of them are packing. Makes it tough to snoop."

"They always did have a militia streak. That's why we need you." She inhaled, then dropped her voice. "Let's go over the points again for my peace of mind."

I recited, "One, the real oil company ran a preliminary survey, didn't like what they found, and left with a vague warning that something was 'off' on the property. Two, you tried the legal route, called the sheriff, called the Feds, and both said there was no case. Three, you want hard evidence. Something so clean and undeniable that the Colemans get evicted, no questions asked."

She hummed approval. "And four?"

"Four, you want to know what the hell they're hiding. Illegal exotic animals, drugs, bodies, maybe all three."

Another hum. "That's my girl. Has anything changed since you got there?"

"Some. There's a lot of traffic on the ranch roads at night. Too much for a place that's supposed to be struggling. Not sure if it means anything."

"Document everything. If they're running cattle or worse, we need time and date."

I smiled, though she couldn't see me. "Not my first rodeo."