Page 55 of High Density

Judging by the rush on the restrooms, I’m guessing the kids’ barrel racing is finished. That means the adults will be in the arena next. The schedule I was given shows today and tomorrow are preliminary rounds, with finals on Sunday. The actual rodeo has barely started and I’ve already had enough. Mind you, that may have little to do with working the event and is more about the stressful circumstances.

Those tensions have only been ramped up now that girl, Lacey, seems to have gone missing. At this point I don’t really believe she’s gone into town or out for lunch with a friend or something. Her horse is still in the pen next to where we’re running the clinic, unclaimed. I saw how the girl was with that horse yesterday, and I don’t believe for a minute she’d leave her unattended for any length of time.

It’s been hours since we found the freaked-out animal.

I find the food stand with the shortest line, figuring they’d at least all have water, and get in line. This vendor sells basic hamburgers and hot dogs and by the time I get to the front of theline, my mouth is watering and I end up ordering a couple of hot dogs for Logan and myself. I know he only asked for water, but the day isn’t over yet and both of us have to eat.

“Late lunch?” I hear behind me.

Phil Jericho definitely looks the part of a rich rodeo benefactor: a crisp white Stetson on his head, a bolo tie with an intricate silver and turquoise clasp at his neck, and what looks like a giant championship buckle on his belt. The ensemble is completed by a pair of expensive snakeskin boots, which would be illegal to wear in some states, but not so in Montana.

All a bit over-the-top for me, but he sure seems to be drawing attention.

“Late lunch, or early dinner, take your pick. It’s been a crazy day.”

I would assume, being the organizer, he must’ve been made aware one of the barrel racers is missing, but I can’t be sure, so I stop myself from asking him if he heard anything. At this point, I really wish someone could give me an update. I feel out of the loop.

“You’ve been busy?” he asks, butting in line to place his order for a hamburger.

“It’s been steady,” I share. “Minor stuff.”

I step off to the side to wait for my order, and Jericho joins me.

“No boyfriend today?”

The tone of his question is a bit sarcastic, but at the same time feels opportunistic. The smirk on his face makes the whole thing feel sleazy. Even though I get the sense he’s probably this way with any woman who hits his perimeter. Trust me, I’m well aware I’m far too plain for the likes of him to be genuinely interested. He’s probably one of those guys who thinks all women should fall at his feet, and this is more about his own ego than it has anything to do with me.

“He’s around somewhere, probably taking in the sights,” I share, hoping the lie isn’t plastered on my face.

Jericho squints his eyes and tilts his head.

“Then he’s a fool. Not a sight better than this one around.”

Okay,eww.

Now I know for sure he’s full of it. I had a glance in the restroom mirror and know for a fact I look like shit, and I probably don’t smell much better.

Thankfully, the arrival of my order saves me from having to come up with a response to that.

“There’s a table over there.” He points to a picnic table that is just freeing up. “I’ll join you and we can chat.”

I plaster what I hope is a friendly smile on my face and remind myself this is the man who’ll be signing my check after all of this is done. At least I hope he will.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid I have to get back; my assistant is waiting for his lunch.”

“Of course,” he immediately returns. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any more unpleasant run-ins with John Mackey. The man can be a bit of a loose cannon, I’m afraid.”

Thankfully nothing more than a few dirty looks yesterday afternoon at the auction, but that’s about all and not worth mentioning. No more accusations of stolen cows.

“It’s been quiet on that front.”

He nods and seems relieved. “Good.”

“That reminds me, has there been any sign of that cow?” I ask.

I know full well the FBI was responsible for taking it, but it would probably be the question I’d ask if I wasn’t aware. Besides, I’m curious to see how he’ll answer.

“The missing animal? Not as far as I know, but then I haven’t seen much of Mackey since yesterday.”

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