Page 23 of Wyoming Bodyguard
“Methamphetamines.” He swept his cowboy hat off his head and wiped his forearm over his brow. “Serious drugs. Any idea who it belongs to?”
Her jaw dropped. “Are you kidding me? Does it look like I expected to find that?”
He shook his head and replaced his hat. “No, but you know who spends time out here. Who might have put the drugs inside the shed.”
“No one who works here is doing meth. Or selling it. Or storing it.” Even as the words came out of her mouth, she cringed. Someone had to put the drugs there. “It has to be someone from town.”
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
She anchored her fists on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“All possibilities need exploring, that’s all. Even if they make you uncomfortable.”
The hesitant look in his eyes turned her stomach. “What are you implying?” she asked, bracing herself for his answer.
Scrunching his nose, he dropped his gaze to the ground. “Someone wants your dad dead. Could the reason be drug related?”
Anger morphed into outrage, but she counted to ten before snapping out the first thought that came to her mind. “My dad would never have anything to do with drugs.” Her voice was as slow and steady as the stream gurgling on the other side of the meadow, though the viciousness of unseen rapids brewed underneath.
“I’m not saying he does,” Madden said, lifting his palms. “But there could be a different connection. Unfortunately, we can’t ask him about it. Maybe there’s something in the house that could tell us more.”
“Or before I invade my father’s privacy, we ask Charlie and Daniel. Maybe they know something.”
“We could,” he said, drawing out each syllable in a way that told her that he didn’t like her suggestion. “But if one of them is involved with whatever the hell is going on, it might be wise to keep them in the dark a little. Leave the drugs where they are so as not to raise suspicions to whoever put them there.”
“What about the police? Should we tell them what we found?”
He scratched his chin. “Probably. I’ll get ahold of the sheriff’s department. See what they say. But until then we can be proactive and see if there’s anything else in the house.”
His logic made her shove aside the emotional turmoil fighting to make her decisions. “Okay. Let’s head back.”
Hopping onto Queenie’s back, she urged the horse into a canter and took off for the house. The wind cooled her skin. Strands of long hair whipped across her face. Fleeting trickles of joy waded through the muck weighing her down. For a few minutes, she gave into the joy, gave into the flight on top of Queenie’s back until the cabin came into view.
She slowed the horse and walked her back to the barn. By the time Madden led Ace into his stall, she had Queenie settled and was ready to tackle her assignment. No matter how difficult.
“I want to be alone while going through Dad’s things,” she said. “Pawing through his personal items doesn’t feel right, but having someone else watching while I do it is a whole other level of violation. I’ll be quick, and I promise to tell you if I find anything suspicious.”
Nodding, he unbuckled the cinch strap and slid the brown leather saddle and saddle pad off Ace’s back. “Understandable. I’d like to at least be close by, just in case.”
She almost asked in case of what, but she understood the direction his mind took. “I’ll get started while you finish cooling down Ace. Shouldn’t take me long.”
His clenched jaw told her that he didn’t like her plan, but she didn’t need his permission. Yes, she wanted him to keep her safe and help solve this case. She hadn’t signed up for a babysitter to stand guard twenty-four hours a day.
Besides, he’d gotten under her skin in a way she’d never anticipated in a short amount of time. A little space from Madden was what she needed to help get her head on straight.
Determined to get her unsavory task over with as soon as possible, she hurried inside and went straight to her father’s bedroom. She flipped on the light and sadness pressed against her lungs. The king-size bed was neatly made. Not even a single wrinkle marred the deep blue comforter that matched the walls. The book he’d been reading lay opened on his nightstand with his reading glasses beside it. A half-filled glass of water waited to be either used or taken to the kitchen.
Would he ever make it home? Would he finish the mystery that had captured his attention or wear the glasses again—the round ones with the thick black frames she always teased him about?
No, she couldn’t stand there and think the worst. Hell, she couldn’t think about her father’s health at all right now. Not if she was going to snoop through his things then get the hell out of there.
Ignoring the sinking feeling in her gut, she started with the tall dresser in the corner. She took great care as she methodically searched each drawer until she was certain nothing was hidden inside. She moved robotically through the rest of the room, next tackling the closet and nightstands. Searching under the bed and scouring every inch of the en suite bathroom.
A soft knock on the door frame brought her back into the bedroom. Madden stood in the hallway, his thumb tucked into the front pocket of his jeans and his ever-present cowboy hat in his free hand. “You doing okay?”
“Not really, but I haven’t found anything out of the ordinary.” And for that she was grateful. Each new spot she searched brought fear of not only discovering something tying her father to drug use, but a whole host of other horrors a daughter might uncover about her father she had no use knowing. She sighed, rounding the bed to run her fingertip along the cover of his book. “It’s weird being in here without him. Seeing his things and not knowing if he’ll ever be back in this room.”
“I’m sure he’ll be back in no time.” Madden walked to her side and stared down at the nightstand. “He’s a reader?”
