Page 75 of A Mile of Ocean

Tate nodded. “Oh, I remember those days, playing chess with her. She never let us win, not once, not even before Mom and Dad died, not even when we were seven and eight years old.She loved beating the pants off us little kids. I do recall the first time Trent won. He must’ve been thirteen. She pitched a fit and knocked over the chessboard, sending the game pieces flying.”

Savannah’s face broke into a disapproving frown. “A grown woman reacted that way to losing a game?”

“A grandmother no less,” Tate said.

“I’d forgotten that,” Trent expressed, looking at his phone for updates from Birk and Beckett. “What a sore loser she was.”

“And don’t forget how she made us sit at the table until we cleaned our plates. No wasting food at her table. If we didn’t eat every bite we took, we’d get locked in our room without TV. It got so bad in my teen years that I’d barely scoop up whatever Dolly made for fear I couldn’t eat all of it.”

Trent winced. “She called it tough love. Sometimes walking down memory lane serves no good purpose for the heart and soul.”

“You two aren’t upset about getting kicked out of here?” Savannah questioned.

“We expected it once we challenged her,” Tate issued. “Or at least, I did.”

“Once I learned about her draining the Rio Verde accounts from Cooper and her financial success at the Triple C beef empire, I figured she would try to ruin everything Granddad built up,” Trent clarified. “That meant dismantling the Rio Verde all at once or bit by bit. Tate and I are his legacy, and she wants to destroy that, too.”

“So those ten-acre plots that she promised each employee were just for show,” Savannah concluded. “Duchess never meant to give them anything.”

“Nothing will be left if she leaves the ranch in financial ruin, including Turtle Ridge,” Trent pointed out. “The empty promises she made to the ranch hands are as worthless as the paper she used to write them on.”

“She was against Painted Heart from the start,” Tate reminded them. “She never wanted me to have those fifty acres to corral the mares we saved. Did you check the bank accounts?”

“Yup. I talked to Nick Harris. At the time, he said he thought the transactions were questionable. But sheisthe joint account holder. She had every right to move the money anywhere she wanted. And that’s what she did. The morning after Granddad’s funeral, she went to the bank and transferred fifty percent to a bank in Green River and the other half into her offshore account. She left us with limited cash to meet payroll at the first of the month. After that, I’ll need to take money from our trust for operating capital.”

Savannah’s face dawned with a new realization. “But if she moved the money the day after the funeral, that means she always planned to boot you two to the curb. Her decision didn’t come from your challenging her this morning; it’s what she had always planned to do.”

“Bingo,” Trent stated. “So ask yourself how deep was her involvement in the shooting? Was she the actual shooter? Did she pull the trigger or orchestrate the hit? How devious do you have to be to set up Colter Bohannon, a dead guy, as the first fall guy?”

“The first?” Savannah questioned.

“Oh, yeah. We’re sitting here watching for her second fall guy to reappear.”

“It has to be someone from the Rio Verde,” Savannah proposed.

Trent and Tate exchanged glances before Trent answered. “None of my guys are in on this plot. I’d bet my life on it. No, I think Duchess would use someone unquestionably loyal to her. He has to be someone from the Triple C.”

“Someone she trusts implicitly at the Triple C who would do her bidding when she was back in California,” Tate stated. “She didn’t build up her beef empire without help from a lackey.”

“But you said all the ranch hands respected her,” Savannah said, looking at Trent.

“They do. Granddad saw to that. But I never said they liked working for her.”

Savannah shook her head. “And you think she’s about to stab whoever her accomplice is in the back?”

“I know she is,” Trent stated. “And he’ll never see it coming.”

As the afternoon went on and a cool breeze swept through the open window, Trent’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. Lucien reported they arrived at Cord’s animal sanctuary and were about to transfer into the truck and trailer.

He held up his device so Savannah and Tate could read the update. “They should arrive back here in about twenty minutes.”

“I’m so nervous,” Tate admitted. “Moving the plan up during daylight hours means it has to come off without a hitch. There’s no hiding in the dark this time around.”

Trent sent her a tentative look. “What was I thinking? We needed the cover of darkness to give everyone time to get in position.”

“No,” Savannah grunted. “We need that woman in custody as soon as possible.”

An anxious Trent couldn’t leave his phone alone for two minutes without checking for text messages. “Let me know when they’re at the main gate,” he told Savannah.

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