Page 61 of Christmas with Three Cowboys

“They’re getting trapped in the snow, huh?”

He nods once. “Like flies on glue paper, I swear.”

“People are going to do stupid shit no matter what you tell them. Hell, it keeps you and your deputies from getting bored.”

He chuckles. “I’m glad you’ve got your trucks and your snow equipment. I never had to worry about the Avery boys in that sense,” Kavanaugh says. “What brings you out here, Colt? Thought you boys would be busy shoveling your ranch roads.”

“We’re doing that, but I needed to talk to you about something else.”

“Okay. How can I help?”

“I got a bit of a situation, and I was hoping you might be able to provide me with some information. Off the record, for now,” I say.

Kavanaugh sits up. I’ve got his full attention. He takes another sip of coffee and sets the mug down, his gaze fixed on mine. “What’s going on?”

“You know we’re working with Ridgeboro prison, right? The whole Path to Freedom Initiative, the woman we’ve got working in our kitchen.”

“Yeah, yeah, Melissa Carson. I’ve got her file here somewhere. Did she do something?”

“No, sir, she’s been a saint. But her past is catching up with her, and I’m hoping I might be able to get ahead of it.”

He frowns, his silvery brows furrow above his grey eyes. “Why don’t you just send her back to Ridgeboro and get another inmate who won’t bring trouble to your doorstep? I’m sure you have options.”

The mere thought makes my stomach churn.

“No, sir. Melissa is a great woman, and frankly, I think she was wrongfully convicted,” I say, shaking my head slowly. “It’s one of the things I’m eager to look into, actually, but before that… I’ve just gotten word that we might have some people from the Esparza cartel hanging out around Long Pine.”

“Jesus Christ. What can you tell me about them?”

“They’re a Colombian cartel active across Nebraska. The drugs the cops seized from Melissa’s van belonged to them.” I frown. “Well, not her van, her boyfriend’s.”

“Didn’t he testify against her?”

“He was the one moving drugs for the cartel,” I tell Kavanaugh, but he gives me a sour smile.

“Careful with assumptions, Colt.”

“Sheriff, my issue isn’t with Melissa’s innocence right now. I’m trying to paint the whole picture for you,” I insist.

“Go on.”

“They’re ruthless and bloodthirsty bastards, and they might be coming after Melissa,” I tell him. “So I need as much information about them as you can possibly provide me with as a civilian.”

“As a civilian,” Kavanaugh asks, “or as a former Ranger?”

“I’d prefer the latter if you’d extend me such a courtesy.”

“Let’s see…”

He pauses and logs into his computer. I watch his chubby fingers dance across the old keyboard, clacking until he inputs a few words into the database. His eyes scan the screened results, then his hand takes over the wireless mouse and prints a handful of documents.

“All yours,” he says.

I retrieve the printed paper and glance at it. “This isn’t enough,” I tell him. “I could get this from a search engine, Sheriff, or the newspapers. I need details about their lieutenants, about their recent movements, their modus operandi. I need to know what we’re dealing with.”

“Colton, I’m getting the feeling the girl would be safer back at Ridgeboro, and you would be, too.”

“That is not an option,” I say sharply. “Sheriff, we’ve done this office a whole lot of favors over the years. I’m not the type to call them in, but I guess I have to. I need real, accurate, and recent intel on these people and on Jake Miller.”

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