Page 73 of A Mile of Ocean

“Will you go check the main gun safe?” he asked his sister.

“I’ll go with her,” Savannah offered.

Brogan got to her feet. “Me too. It isn’t in her bedroom, is it?”

“No, it’s in the family room where Granddad taught us how to play chess,” Tate said, heading into the adjoining room. “Let’s hope she hasn’t changed the lock.”

Toby watched Tate leave and looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know what’s going on, but don’t you want to know about the handgun, too, with the longer barrel?”

Trent set up straighter. “What handgun?”

“She carries aP226 MK25. She showed it to me.”

Birk stood up and looked over at his brother. “No way. That’s what Seals carry. Didn’t yours go missing six months ago?”

“As a matter of fact, it did. Son of a bitch. Does it have a series of distinctive scratch marks on the right-side grip plate?”

Toby scratched his chin and nodded. “The handle? Yeah. I’m pretty sure it had a little round mark there. She called it an imperfection. It smelled like linseed oil, like she had cleaned and tried to remove the scratch. But it was still there.”

“Jeez. Was she planning on framing me for some murder?” Beckett grumbled.

“Considering her marksmanship skills, I wouldn’t think so. But maybe she sent whoever she’s working with to steal a gun and used it to force Colter Bohannon to comply back in Stillwater,” Trent surmised. “It doesn’t make sense, though. We have numerous firearms, including handguns, available here.”

“Yeah,” Beckett said. “But they can probably be traced back to the ranch. Do you have any idea how unsettling it is to know she sent someone to steal my weapon? I’m sentimental about that pistol. Good thing I reported it stolen and filed a police report. If I was ever on the fence before, I’m not now.”

Savannah hurried back into the room. “Tate unloaded the Winchester and removed the firing pin. But she says there’s a shotgun missing, the Mossberg that Duchess carries. We looked for Duchess but couldn’t find her anywhere. She’s not in her room or the bathroom.”

Trent cursed under his breath as he shoved away from the table. “I forgot about the shotgun. That’s what happens when you’re running on fumes with little sleep. Maybe we overplayed our hand at breakfast and said too much.”

Trent’s jaw clenched. “We need eyes on her at all times. If she’s not in the house, we need to find her. But it shouldn’t look like we’re searching for her. I’ll let Woody and Cecil know to keep their eye out for her. We need to let them know what’s happening at some point.”

“What is happening?” Toby asked.

“We have a new suspect,” Trent said. “And we think Duchess is involved.”

Toby picked up his walkie-talkie. “Do you want me to radio Woody and Cecil?”

“Stay off the radio. No communications using it,” Trent ordered. “She might be listening. We think she’s working withsomeone else. So she may have gone out to meet them ahead of time.”

He turned to Hawk. “Duchess knows Tate and I are upset with her. You and your men should be the ones to check the barn, the stables, and all the outbuildings. But don’t approach her. She needs to believe we’re still looking for Colter Bohannon. If she does see you, tell her you’re doing one last sweep before heading into town.”

“We can do that,” Hawk determined. “If we’re not using the radio, should I text?”

“Definitely.”

“What do the rest of us do in the meantime?” Beckett wanted to know.

“Start packing up your stuff. Make it look as real as possible when loading up your cars. We still need to go through with the ruse as if nothing has changed other than we’re moving up the timeframe. Instead of waiting until dark, we need to take her down during daylight. We don’t want to tip our hand until the last possible minute. We need concrete evidence. She has plenty of money to hire the best lawyers. She could drag this case out for years. And die before going to prison. We need to catch her in the act of taking out her partner. For once, we need to be a step ahead of her.”

“She’s not anywherein the house,” Tate announced to her brother as she returned to the dining room. “Brogan and I searched everywhere, from the basement to the attic. Duchess has to be somewhere outside on the ranch.”

“No doubt, meeting up with her partner,” Savannah concluded.

When Trent didn’t answer, Tate noticed he stood at the window, looking out onto the property. His shoulders weretense, his arms dangled by his sides, his hands curling into fists, his body barely able to control the rage.

She moved behind him and reached out. But he flinched at the touch. “There’s nothing I can say. I’m furious beyond words.”

But she saw the raw rage in his eyes, the searing fury building inside him. “Talk to me, Trent.”

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