“Jacob promised to expedite everything because of Aja’s situation. But for a property this size, it will still take a few days to get all the equipment she needs in his inventory. The only answer is to keep a close watch until Jacob and Kip can do their thing.”
Storm returned to the counter, handing Jackson the cold beverage and waiting for him to continue after he emptied the glass.
“You two have anything to report? See anything strange during your rounds?”
Colton sat at the counter, running a single fingertip in a circular pattern, then shook his head. “It’s been quiet so far. Nothing at the access points we’re concerned about last night or today. Seneca’s been locked up in her office all day on her computer. I’ve passed by several times; she’s always where she’s supposed to be, tapping away on those keys.”
Jackson folded his arms. “How much do you know about computers? You think you could get in there undetected and figure out what she’s working on?”
Colton pulled his fingers through his thick, straight hair. “I don’t know. I know a few things about computers from my days in the army, but if Seneca is knowledgeable enough to build a computer network for a resort, she’d figure out someone was trying to spy on her pretty quickly. I’ll see what I can do, though.”
Jackson agreed that was the best chance they had of getting any info. Seneca presented as a sweet and upbeat person who made mornings look easy with her unending perkiness. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t up to no good. The most notorious criminals often hid in plain sight. Possibly a closer look into her digital tracks would offer information to help their investigation.
“Can’t say tailing Brooklyn was any more informative, Boss. She’s all over the ranch. But she’s the architect. She needs to be mobile to survey the land to design structures for Aja.” Storm crossed his arms, something the good-natured Ranger did when he was mulling over case information. “I can’t tell if she’s up to anything yet. She’s constantly on the go and doesn’t slow down long enough to let the grass grow under her feet.”
Still at square one, Jackson set the glass on the counter and hooked his thumbs into his denims. “Stay on them both. If either of them is up to something, they’ll eventually slip up.”
“Are we gonna look into Bennett?”
Jackson shook his head in response to Storm’s question. “Not yet. We don’t have probable cause to officially tail him. But we can see what dirt we can find on him on the internet. It’s not a thorough background check, but it could at least point us in the right direction of where we should be looking. Also, Jennings and Gleason should have tracked him down by now to have an unofficial chat. Check in with them to see if they contacted him and what Bennett had to say if they did.” Jackson headed toward the door.
“What are you going to do while Storm and I are doing all that?”
Jackson turned around to face Colton, scratching the back of his head as his thoughts came together. “I will try to talk to Aja again, see if she can think of anything from her past in New York that might shine a light on all this.”
“You think she’s hiding something?”
Jackson tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought. “She seems truthful. I know for certain her being scared isn’t an act. I’m thinking she may have overlooked something. Maybe if I can get it out of her, we can figure out who we’re dealing with.”
Jackson waved and stepped on the porch, closing the door behind him. He pondered Storm’s question and his answer came up the same. She wore her integrity like he wore that five-point Texas star, proud in the open for everyone to see.
He’d know if she were lying, especially after the way she felt in his arms when she was pressed so close to him that he could feel her heart beat strong and steady against his chest.
His daddy was right. Aja wasn’t Margie or Lana. She didn’t think about herself. She put her people first. She protected those she cared for. She didn’t abandon them like Margie or lie about all the important things—crucial things that could mean life or death—the way Lana did either. Anyone who would put themselves in harm’s way to secure someone else’s future was stand-up in Jackson’s book.
As he made his way to the stables to take care of the chores he’d missed during the security consultation, all he could wonder was who would try to hurt someone like Aja. Why would someone want to destroy a person who worked to make things better for others?
* * *
Jackson’s muscles burned by the time he returned to the main house. A half day of backbreaking work in the stables had produced a good enough workout that he was covered in a sheen of sweat.
It was well past dinnertime now, and his stomach protested missing one of Aja’s meals. As he climbed the steps to the back porch, he toyed with the idea of heading straight for the fridge and cleaning up later. But as he caught a whiff of the barnyard special scent he was wearing, he bypassed the empty kitchen and headed toward his guest room for a hot shower instead.
A few moments of washing the outside off, and his fatigue turned into a mellow relaxation. He was tired, sure, but not tired enough to want to go to sleep yet. A pair of sweatpants, an A-line T-shirt, and a comfy pair of thick socks, and Jackson was headed down to the kitchen to scavenge in the fridge.
The kitchen was still quiet when he returned. Maybe Aja had gone to sleep. Disappointment sank like a weight in the bottom of his stomach. He realized that maybe dinner wasn’t all he’d missed. Perhaps he should add Aja’s presence to that list too.
Her smart banter, the way she always had an answer for everything he threw at her. He even missed the way she made him justify everything, never accepting his word as truth but making him prove it.
Too afraid to think about the reason behind his disappointment at eating alone, Jackson opened the fridge and found a plate covered in aluminum foil with a note on top.
Jackson, if you’re hungry after mucking out stalls, here’s a roast beef sandwich on my special French loaf bread. If you look on the counter, you’ll find a batch of my homemade potato chips in a baggie with your name on it too.
Enjoy,
A.
He stared at the note and the neat curly loops of her handwriting, and the disappointment that tried to settle inside him dissipated, a new warmth permeating his bones.
