Page 66 of Tempting Fate
“Yeah, I think so.”
“You were here when that happened?” Rhys asked Gabe.
“Yep.”
“Lucky didn’t have any part of this.” Raylene nudged her head at the trench. She didn’t know that for sure, but it seemed awfully unlikely. Besides, she didn’t want to make trouble for him—not that Rhys and Jake would take her side over Lucky’s.
Rhys glanced over at Gabe and he nodded, confirming what she’d just said. Clearly, her word wasn’t good enough.
“You have any idea who might’ve done this?” Jake asked her.
“Zero. The story of the gold has been out there a long time. I don’t know why the sudden interest.”
Jake cocked his brows. “Why are you suddenly interested?”
Because I’m broke and desperate. “Call it a last-ditch effort before the new owners take over.” She looked at him, and then at Rhys. “Why are you even taking this seriously?” Unless there was an actual theft, or worse, she would think digging holes in someone’s vacant field wasn’t the top priority of a small police department that was already strapped.
Rhys contemplated the question. “We think this”—he eyed the trench—“and your break-in may be connected to something else.”
“Like what?” From all the weird body language she was witnessing, there was a whole conversation going on here that she wasn’t part of.
“A home invasion in Green River, Utah.”
A home invasion. How in the world had they come to that conclusion, and why would someone committing a home invasion in Utah know about her gold in Nugget, California? “Why do you think that?”
“It’s purely supposition at this point,” Rhys said, sidestepping the question. “But until we eliminate that possibility, you shouldn’t come out here alone.”
She darted a look at Gabe, wondering if he was following this. He gave nothing away. His face was completely deadpan.
“I’ll come with her,” he said. Four days ago, he’d tossed the metal detector in the trunk of his SUV and told her he was “done with this bag of dicks.” Apparently, that was Navy slang for an extremely odious task.
“What kind of home invasion are we talking about?” she asked.
Rhys hesitated for a moment, then said, “Robbery and murder.”
* * * *
Drew started his Friday morning with a heated discussion with his ex-wife.
“Raylene is selling the neighboring property to a company that wants to turn the land into a motocross track. Isn’t that reason enough?” Emily asked, her voice raised.
He gazed around the Ponderosa, hoping no one had heard her. Ten minutes ago, he’d thought it was a good idea to meet at the restaurant—neutral ground—for a rational discussion over why she was so adamantly against their daughter taking on the small task of feeding a horse.
“Let me get this straight. The woman’s not allowed to sell her land to someone you disapprove of, and therefore our thirteen-year-old daughter can’t spend time with her horse?”
“Disapprove of? Drew, the racetrack would be next door to us. Every day, we’d be forced to hear dozens of motorcycles driving in circles for hours. What part of that nightmare don’t you understand?”
“I sympathize with you, I really do. Hire a good lawyer and fight it. But it has nothing to do with Harper, so why punish her for your land dispute?”
“Oh for God’s sake, are you that dense? We are feuding with this woman. Clay is beside himself. Our livelihood depends on the ranch; this will make living here untenable. We have a stable full of horses Harper can feed.”
“That’s called a chore, Emily. This is a job, with a paycheck. Do you remember what that meant when you were Harper’s age?”
“I can’t even believe I’m having this conversation with you. Raylene Rosser is not the kind of person I want Harper hanging around.”
“Why? Is she a felon? A druggie? All I’ve been able to glean from your story is that she had a lover’s spat with a friend of yours and as a result everyone hates her. Jeez, Em, when did you join the real-life cast ofPeyton Place?”
“A lover’s spat? She nearly sent him to prison for a murder he didn’t commit. When did you become Raylene Rosser’s defender?”
