Page 72 of Country Mist

She didn’t know a lot about kids, but she did remember what it was like to be a teenager, and how healing a relationship with a horse could be.

Her heart constricted as she thought about Sky. What an amazing horse she’d been. Her best friend, her confidant. And then she was gone…and it had been Celine’s fault.

In the future, she wanted to own a ranch that used horses for therapy with teens. She wanted kids to experience what she had when Sky was alive. And she wanted them to learn from her mistake.

Celine didn’t drift off for a long time. Eventually she slipped into a fitful sleep. She dreamt of Sky galloping in an open field, before darkness fell. In the black of night, the only thing she saw was the word Merf, scratched into a wall.

2

Bright June sunlight nearly blinded Celine and she blinked, attempting to accustom herself to it and the heat as she climbed from the dim interior of the black Mercedes. She managed to get out with her Louis Vuitton handbag on one shoulder. In her opposite hand, she gripped the matching tote that held her laptop, along with the stack of papers from Monty.

She congratulated herself for staying on her feet after the harrowing ride. She shot a look at Charlie as he got out of the driver’s seat. He’d nearly killed them sixteen different times in sixteen different ways.

“I’m going to murder Monty,” she muttered under her breath. Bringing Charlie to something so important, something that would be launching her new line—Monty should be shot.

“Miss Celine.” Charlie jogged around the front of the car. “What time do you want me to take you to the hotel in Prescott?”

Never.

“I’ve already made arrangements.” She told him the lie while she held out her hand. “Keys.”

Charlie looked disappointed and handed the set to her.

She gestured toward the set. “I’m sure they can use you someplace over there. Ask Rod.”

Go brighten someone else’s day.

Now Charlie was Rod’s problem. Considering Rod was the one who sent Charlie to get her at the hotel in Scottsdale, fair was fair. She’d kill Monty and set Charlie on Rod—there, two vultures taken out with one stone.

How Charlie had gotten her to the Flying F Ranch alive, she had no idea. He was a walking disaster, not to mention a driving nightmare. She was amazed he was able to pilot his drone without crashing into something.

Celine glanced up at the clear blue sky then squinted as she looked at the chaos of the shoot, which should have been more organized. The day was already growing hot, but from what she understood, it was quite a bit cooler in Prescott Valley than the Phoenix metropolitan area.

She took a moment to scan the country around her. Monty was right. The ranch and the surroundings were spectacular. She’d been told the ranch was at the base of the Bradshaw Mountains and the country was even prettier than what she’d seen on the ride from the airport to North Scottsdale. She had to agree.

The mountains surged upward, behind the ranch. It was an awe-inspiring mountain range that looked as if the Almighty had placed it in the desert. She’d have to get someone to show her the entire property.

It was all far too much to process without some coffee. Good coffee. She’d forgotten to take the premium Panama blend with her to the hotel, where they’d had a mediocre ground brand.

Lucky for her, she had an entire bag of the whole bean stashed in Monty’s trailer. With her name on it.

“Thank the heavens.” A woman on a mission, she strode straight to the silver Airstream trailer Monty had insisted on but rarely used. Charlie, his nephew, used it more than he did.

She avoided eye contact with anyone—she didn’t want to risk being waylaid. As a New Yorker, it was second nature to ignore everything but her destination. She knocked on the Airstream’s door, gave it two seconds, and jerked the door open. She tossed her handbag and tote onto a couch. The tote looked like it would slide off, but she glared at it and the thing stayed put.

Yes, I am officially a witch.

It took her all of thirty seconds to discover her coffee wasn’t where she left it. The bag should have been in a far corner of the pantry, where she always kept extra for emergencies.

She began to plot murder.

Her plans grew more defined the longer she looked for it.

The door slammed open. She turned to face it and saw Charlie duck his head in.

If he had anything to do with it being gone—

Charlie got one look at her face and took a step back. “Didn’t mean to bother you, Miss Celine. I’ll just—”