Page 2 of Midnight & Mavericks

“Something wrong?” Missy asked, concern etched across her pretty face.

“No, I don’t think so. This same number has called me several times, but when I answered just now, no one was there.”

Missy dismissed the importance of the call too. “Yeah, I get those robocalls all the time. Or telemarketers. They are the worst. Calling at all hours of the day and night to sell you car repair insurance. People. Do your homework. I live in Manhattan. I don’t have a car.”

Abbie laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. If it is important, they’ll leave a message.”

Just then her phone pinged. “Oh, they did leave a voice mail.” She punched the button and listened as Missy instructed the driver to drop them to the front of Winters & Winters instead of the garage. “You’re gonna arrive like the rock star you are,” she heard Missy say as the voice message began to play.

“Hey, Abbie, it’s me. Teddy. Van Meter Well, people don’t call me Teddy anymore. It’s Ted Van Meter as in Van Meter Investment Properties. I was noticing that your old place is kinda lookin’ run down and I was wondering if your family might consider finally selling that place. Anyway, give me a calland let’s talk old times.” The call ended leaving Abbie in shock, the words hitting her like a punch to the gut.

“Everything all right?” Missy asked again.

She hesitated before she answered her assistant. “Honestly, I’m not sure, but I’m damn sure going to find out.”

Her phone buzzed again—this time a text from Mr. Winters himself, congratulating her on the verdict and inviting her to a meeting the next morning. It was the call she had been working toward for years. “I’ll be there, Mr. Winters,” she assured him.

“Good. We have a lot of things to talk about.” When the call ended, she sat unmoving in the back seat and yet her mind was busy trying to find answers. Why would Teddy think her grandfather would want to sell the ranch? It wasn’t just a piece of land. It was the Carter family legacy that so many people were counting on.

The horse rescue in itself was important enough, but the horses that could be rehabilitated and were deemed gentle enough for children were used in the children’s trauma therapy the ranch hosted once a week for the last two decades. She knew the horse rescue was sometimes short of money, but the foundation that paid for the children’s therapy always came through with grants, gifts of donations, and anything else the ranch needed to keep the horses healthy and the children happy.

So how could the place be so run down that Teddy would make assumptions her family was ready to sell something that had been in their family for generations? And, more importantly, if things were that bad, how could her grandfather not tell her? It just didn’t make sense.

“We’re here,” Missy announced as the long, sleek luxury car pulled to the curb in front of the massive Winters & Winters high rise and came to a stop. Abbie filed her concerns associated with Teddy’s call to the back of her busy mind and stepped out of the car and onto the crowded Manhattan street. She would placethat long-postponed call to her grandfather just as soon as she had a free moment, but right now it looked like the entire firm was waiting in the firm’s lobby to congratulate her on her win and she intended to enjoy every hard-won moment of it.

Chapter Two

Beau Elliott stood outside the acting chief’s office, his jaw clenched so tightly, it felt like his teeth might crack. The hallway outside the station buzzed with activity—phones ringing, officers exchanging banter, a pair of rookies nervously flipping through a training manual—but it all blurred into static in Beau’s mind.

His gaze lingered on the brass nameplate on the door: Acting Chief Janet Redmond. He’d worked with her before, back when she was just a detective like him. She’d always been a stickler for rules, the kind who could recite department policy word for word.

Now, she was in charge while Chief Buckingham recovered and rehabbed from his unexpected heart attack. If Bucky was still in charge, Beau wouldn’t be here, but because this was Rigid Redmond, he had a bad feeling about this meeting.

He drew in a breath, pushed the door open, and strode inside like he owned the place. Confidence—or maybe arrogance—was his armor, and he wasn’t about to let Redmond see a crack in it.

“You wanted to see me?” Beau said, his voice steady, though irritation simmered just beneath the surface.

Acting Chief Redmond didn’t look up immediately. She sat behind the massive oak desk, flipping through a manila folder so thick it looked like it contained a decade’s worth of paperwork. Beau knew without asking that the file was his. The longer she took to acknowledge him, the more his irritation grew.

Finally, she leaned back in her chair and fixed him with a cool stare. “I did. Please, Detective Elliott, take a seat.”

Beau hesitated for half a second, weighing whether it was worth resisting. He decided against it. Antagonizing her right out of the gate wouldn’t do him any favors. He sank into the chair opposite her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Do you know why you’re here, Detective?” she asked, her voice as icy as her expression.

Beau shrugged. “I’m guessing it has something to do with my latest arrest.”

“Let’s just say that was the cherry on top of a very long list of transgressions.”

Beau resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Look, Janet?—”

“Chief Redmond,” she corrected sharply. “Or ma’am. We are not on a first-name basis.”

He ground his teeth but nodded. “Fine. Chief Redmond. If this is about bending a few rules to get the bad guys off the street, then yeah, guilty as charged. But last I checked this badge”—he gestured to his chest— “was about serving and protecting. You think traffickers and drug dealers are following the rule book? Someone’s gotta level the playing field.”

“Leveling the playing field?” she repeated, her voice tight. “That’s an interesting way of saying ‘blatantly disregarding protocol.’”

“Protocol doesn’t save lives,” Beau shot back. “Action does.”

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