Page 55 of Rough Ride

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The recitation of the events left Crysta sick. The fact that someone would mutilate a living animal for enjoyment was beyond anything she had dealt with before.

“So, there’s no footage?” Crysta asked. She had to keep her mind on the investigation rather than the horrible details.

Eli shook his head. “We don’t have cameras around the ranch. There’s no way to do that. It would be a logistical nightmare.”

“And they made sure they picked an area that wasn’t well travelled,” Jerry said.

“That doesn’t matter. If you know anything about ranch life, you can figure out when and where we are working. The Kaheakus know that well enough,” Eli said.

“I have my doubts that Sam could do this. Or Junior,” Mitch said.

She shook her head. “I saw the hate in that man’s eyes. He could do this.”

“What I meant is that this isn’t their kind of thing. Plus, they would hire someone to do it, if they had the money. They don’t.”

“Sean does,” Eli said quietly.

“But he was on Oahu. We saw him,” Crysta said.

“But he has money. From somewhere,” Eli said.

“Oh, good lord, he didn’t do this. I think it’s still connected with Sam.”

“Your uncle is an amazing prick, but I don’t think he would do something like this. This takes planning,” Eli said. “He isn’t that smart.”

Mitch shook his head. “We’ll know more as soon as we start looking around. It’s too late for anything now. But I do want to go over some other things with you.”

He glanced toward her, and she could see Eli was going to protest. The truth was, she needed time alone.

“I need to take a shower.” She needed to wash the filth of the conversation off her. She excused herself and walked upstairs. For a long time, she sat on her bed, thinking. She knew this had something to do with the ranch, but did the Kaheakus think she would run away because of this? If they did it, what kind of sickness was in her family that they would do this to punish someone of the same blood?

She glanced toward her phone and noticed a message was blinking. It was past one in Hawaii, which meant it was after seven on the east coast. Her father might not be active duty anymore, but that didn’t mean he slept in. She looked at the screen.

Good morning, sweetie.

She sighed. All through her problems with Ashton, she had stayed stoic. She hadn’t called her father when she first found out. She had dealt with it on her own, then told her father later. That’s how military brats rolled.

Now, though, with everything that had happened, she needed him. She needed to hear his voice.

She clicked on his number.

“Hey, baby, what are you doing up so late?”

“Oh, Daddy, it’s so good to hear your voice.”

* * *

Hours later, Eli was alone in the study sipping on three fingers of whisky. He didn’t think anything would ever help him forget the sight of those cows. The person who had done that had been a sadistic fuck. He didn’t think much of Sam or his son, but Eli was sure neither of them could have done that.

“Do you have a glass for me?” Crysta asked softly from behind him. The room was dark, but when he turned, the light from the hallway gave him a view of her face. She was worried—beyond worried. He didn’t blame her. He was worried.

“Yeah.” He went to the desk and grabbed a glass and splashed some whisky in it. She accepted it with a nervous smile. Without hesitation, she downed the drink.

“Damn, I needed that.” She held it out again. “Hit me again, St. John.”

He did as ordered, once again amazed by her composure. “You didn’t freak out tonight.”

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