“You don’t have to do that. Benny and I will come back.”
Raising one eyebrow, she glared at him as if he’d just kicked her puppy.
“Or we can do it now.” He crossed to where she’d grabbed a garbage bag.
“Wait.” She held her hand up. “What are the odds that something tossed around here has fingerprints? Maybe we should wait till the sheriff comes by to clean up.”
He should have thought of that. Stopping mid-step, his foot came down heavier than usual, a hollow sound catching his ear. He stomped on the floor, then took a single step to the side and stomped again. Both sounds hollow. Tilting his head, he listened carefully and moving to the next board, once again slammed the heel of his boot to the floor.
“Really, Clint. This is not the time for a jig.”
“No, listen.” He shook his head and stomped on the board he’d just hit, then moved several feet and stomped again. “Hear that?”
He had her attention. Squinting, she listened as he repeated the motions. “First one sounds hollow. The second one not somuch. Like when Charlie would hammer at the wall listening for the hard sound of a stud instead of the hollow of sheetrock.”
“Exactly.” Would this woman ever cease to amaze him? Pulling his knife from his pocket, he unfolded the blade, and worked it into the narrow space. With a twist of his wrist, he applied pressure. The board lifted slightly. He slipped his fingers under the edge and pulled it up, revealing a dark space beneath.
Alice moved closer, bending to see.
The second board pulled up more easily, and then a third. Turning on the flashlight feature of his phone, he shone it inside. All he could see was a single canvas bag.
“What in the world?” Alice leaned even closer.
Reaching into the cavity, he gripped the dirty bag, yanking it from its hiding place, surprised by the weight of it. Setting it down on the floor between them, he opened the bag.
“My God.” Alice’s eyes grew wide and her hand flew to her mouth.
He pulled out one bundle of tightly wrapped bills, secured with rubber bands. Not bundles of single dollars, but hundred dollar bills.
Alice reached for another bundle and fanned the bills. Setting it aside, she did the same with another and then another. “There has to be tens of thousands of dollars.”
“Or more,” he added. “We’d better not touch anything else. You call the sheriff. Tell him we need him here.”
She nodded. “I’m not moving until this shack is secure. I’m not losing this the way we lost the baler.”
He sat quietly as she reported the find to the sheriff who promised to get there as fast as he could. Next she called Preston, then Garret. Each promised to phone the others and to meet her at the shack as soon as they could get to the ranch. That was one of the things he truly loved about this family. They had each other’s backs, no matter what, no matter when. He had towonder if Alice Sweet had any idea, despite the troubles brought on by his thieving predecessor, just how lucky she was.
Chapter Six
Nervous energy had Alice cleaning every corner of her already clean kitchen. More specifically, the contents of her well-ordered cabinets were now scattered across the countertops while she wiped and scrubbed every shelf. She had to do something. The sheriff had been out in the line shack with the county crime scene techs. At first she’d stood around outside with Clint, watching, waiting. It hadn’t taken long to realize despite the small space, a thorough processing was not going to be fast.
“Any word?” Rachel dropped her purse on the sofa and marched into the kitchen. “Oh my.” Her gaze scanned the new mess Alice had made. “Bad news?”
“No news.” Giving the top shelf one more wipe down, she slid back and heaved a frustrated sigh.
Rachel moved next to her mother. “Where’s Clint?”
“He and Preston are at the line shack waiting for what Sheriff Boyd has to say. I got restless. Decided to clean out the cupboards.”
“So I see.” Rachel looked at the stacks of dishes to one side. “Shall I start putting some of this stuff back, or do you need help cleaning more shelves?”
For as long as she could remember, when life became too stressful, or too challenging, Alice would clean. For whateverreason, it helped her think. Though in this case there was nothing to think about, just a lot of waiting. “Yeah, I’m done.”
Starting with the dinner plates, Rachel began stacking the dishes in the first cabinet, when the door swung open.
Preston wiped his boots and came in first, followed by the sheriff.
The lawman tipped his hat at her. “There are a few latent prints they were able to lift, but we doubt they’re going to tell us much. Especially since any former employees could have left those prints at any point in time. The line shacks are for everyone.”
