Page 31 of Midnight & Mavericks

“Don’t you sorry, Abbie. You’ve already helped me more than I ever dreamed possible. Now you go on back to work and don’t give this place another thought.”

“You know I could never forget you or this place.” She hugged her grandpa and then headed to her room to pack. As she folded her clothes into her luggage, a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder if leaving was really what she wanted after all.

Chapter Nineteen

Beau Elliott stood at the edge of the cobblestone driveway leading up to Teddy Van Meter's sprawling, meticulously landscaped estate. The morning sun was climbing higher in the sky, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood of gated mansions.

It was a sharp contrast to the tension crackling in the air as Beau adjusted his bulletproof vest and exchanged a quick glance with the officers standing behind him. This wasn’t his first rodeo, but serving a search warrant to a man like Teddy—privileged, entitled, and deeply resentful—was never without complications.

He called his other two team members. “Are you in place?”

“Yeah, Detective Elliott. We are just outside his office. We’re ready when you are,” Deputy Strater declared.

“Good. Then let’s go.”

Beau and his two deputies approached the front portico, but the front door of the house opened before Beau even knocked, and Teddy appeared in the doorway, dressed in pressed slacks and a tailored shirt that screamed casual wealth. His smirk wasgone, replaced by an icy glare that made no attempt to hide his disdain.

"Detective Elliott," Teddy said, his voice dripping with contempt. "What a surprise. I see you’ve brought your posse with you. What, no pitchforks? No tar and feathers? No vigilante? I’m disappointed in you."

Beau remained stone-faced as he held up the search warrant. "Mr. Van Meter, we’re here to execute this warrant. Please step aside and let us do our job."

Teddy crossed his arms, blocking the doorway like a man who thought his money could shield him from justice. "This is an invasion of privacy. You have no right?—"

Beau cut him off, his voice calm but firm. "Actually, I have every right. That’s how it works when you are suspected of breaking the law. Your actions gave us probable cause, and now we’re here to collect evidence. If you want to argue, save it for your lawyer."

Teddy’s jaw tightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the doorframe. "You think you’re untouchable, don’t you, Detective? You think you can waltz into my home and disrupt my life without consequences?"

Beau stepped forward, his height and presence forcing Teddy to take a step back. "I don’t think I’m untouchable, Mr. Van Meter. I just know the law, and right now, the law says I get to search your house. And as for consequences, those are what happen when you choose to try to sabotage a good man’s livelihood. The ranch, the kids, the horses—I’m convinced you went after all of them for your own greed. So forgive me if I’m not losing sleep over your complaints."

Teddy opened his mouth to retort, but Beau didn’t wait to hear it. He gestured to his team, and the officers filed into the house, splitting up to cover the designated search areas.

The estate was exactly what Beau had expected: an obscene display of wealth designed to impress anyone who walked through the doors. Marble floors gleamed under the overhead chandeliers, and every surface seemed to boast some kind of rare, expensive artifact. But beneath the polished exterior, Beau could sense the rot—Teddy’s carefully constructed façade was about to crumble.

“Start with the home office,” Beau instructed one of his officers. “That’s usually where anything important is kept. Then we’ll look for hidden safes and head on up to his private quarters.”

Without a backward glance, Beau headed upstairs, where he’d been told there was a private study. It didn’t take long to find it—a massive room filled with bookshelves, a mahogany desk, and a view overlooking the perfectly manicured backyard. He immediately began rifling through the desk drawers, his movements efficient but thorough.

As he worked, Teddy’s voice carried up from downstairs, loud and indignant. "You can’t go through my personal papers! Do you have any idea who I am?"

Beau smirked as he flipped through a folder of financial documents. Teddy was doing an excellent job of proving he was exactly the type of man who thought the rules didn’t apply to him.

“Detective Elliott,” one of his team members called out from the hallway. “You’re going to want to see this.”

Beau walked down the hallway and found the officer holding up a stack of files and what appeared to be a ledger. Inside were records of transactions—bank statements, checks, and payment schedules—that sent a chill of satisfaction through Beau’s veins. It was all there: payments to contractors, deposits to bank accounts, and even scribbled notes that screamed sabotage.

“Looks like our friend Teddy had a lot of help,” the officer said. “And he wasn’t exactly careful about hiding it.”

Beau took the ledger and leafed through it, his sharp eyes picking up the details that painted a damning picture. These could be payments to known low-level criminals, contractors with questionable reputations, and notes referencing specific incidents at the Carter ranch. It was pretty clear that Teddy and his brother had orchestrated every mishap, every accident, with meticulous precision. They had hired ranch employees and outside saboteurs to chip away at the ranch’s finances until Mr. Carter would have no choice but to sell.

“Get this logged and tagged,” Beau said, handing the ledger back to the officer. “And let’s see if we can find more. I want every last piece of evidence tied to this loser.”

As the search continued, more incriminating items came to light. Contracts for land development, blueprints for a planned housing community, and communication logs that tied Teddy and his brother to a mega-distribution center in the neighboring town. The entire plan was laid out in black and white: sabotage the ranch, force Mr. Carter to sell, and turn the property into a lucrative housing development for the influx of workers moving to the area.

Beau’s satisfaction grew with every piece of evidence they uncovered, but it was tempered by the thought of what might have happened if he hadn’t been assigned to this case. Teddy had nearly succeeded, and the damage to the Carter family—financially and emotionally—would have been irreversible.

By the time the search was complete, Beau’s team had amassed a mountain of evidence that would make Teddy’s lawyers sweat. As they prepared to leave, Teddy stood in the foyer, his face pale but his eyes blazing with defiance.

“This isn’t over,” Teddy hissed. “You’ll regret this, Detective. Mark my words.”

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