Page 24 of Cowboy Mountain Man

I answer and explain what we’re looking at. He asks me to read the visible numbers on the label. Hope enlarges the image again. I give him what I can.

“That’s one of the missing shipments,” he says.

I look at her. She hears enough to understand.

“We’ll get somebody around to the north access,” Ellis continues. “Tell her to preserve the originals. Don’t alter anything.”

“She’s got them.”

“Good. I’ll need that camera card.”

Hope’s hand moves to the bag on the table. I tell Ellis I’ll keep everything secure and end the call. For a few seconds, she stares at the screen. Then she says, “He wasn’t living there.”

“He may have been keeping watch.”

“Waiting for somebody to come.”

“Maybe.”

She presses her lips together. “The attorney gave me the key. The family knew I was coming. How did nobody know about this?”

“That’s what the sheriff will find out.”

I don’t add the possibility already working through my head. Somebody with access. Somebody who knew the house was empty, knew how to enter it, and knew the family rarely visited.

Hope looks toward the window. I get up and draw the curtain. Then the others. She watches me. “Should I be worried?”

“I’m making sure nobody can see inside.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

I come back to the table. “They followed you to town. We don’t know if they saw you leave with me.”

Her gaze drops to the camera bag. “They want the pictures.”

“It looks that way.”

“And you brought me to your home.”

“I brought you somewhere I can protect you.”

She looks at the dark windows. Then at the hallway. Something in her expression changes. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Your house. Your horses. All of it.”

I pull the chair out beside hers and sit. “You didn’t do this.”

“I know. But⁠—”

“No.”

She meets my eyes.

“I chose to bring you here.”

The lantern catches the little dark brown flecks in her irises. For a moment, I remember exactly how she looked just before she kissed me. Then a sound comes from the porch.