“Sounds great,” Chip added before they ended the call.
It suddenly struck Marshall how lucky he was that some people were ready to take on more responsibility as soon as disaster struck.
Marshall said goodbye and hung up just as he was pulling into the driveway to the house. A long drive to Fort Macleod would give him a quiet moment to think. Driving would give him some alone time to gather his thoughts. To decide which avenues he needed to pursue further. He liked the energy of the auctions and the gentle ribbing the ranchers gave each other as they competed for their bids. It would be a change of scenery and maybe a little distance from the ranch would do him some good. After a quick call to Evan, he secured extra help in managing things at the ranch while he was away. Hopefully, there would be fewer absences in the near future.
His truck pulled into the ranch shortly after his call with Chip. He was grateful for his longtime ranch hands taking over some of Jack’s jobs while Marshall tried to get the ranch running back on track. Once he figured all this shit out, maybe Chip would be ready for a promotion. Or his cousin would be more than capable of taking over Jack’s position.
There was a lot of information to process, and he couldn’t wait to go over it all with Colette. Something about sharing histhoughts with her felt right. She had a way of making him feel intelligent and valued. For the hundredth time that morning, a heavy sigh slid from his lips. Quieting the engine, Marshall debated going back to the house for another cup of coffee when he noticed that the lights were on in the kitchen.
He could have sworn he had left everything turned off.
Had he locked the door behind him?
No, obviously. Regardless of what Colette had said, he wasn’t in the habit of locking his doors yet.
Curious, he made his way up the steps to the home, his eyes landing on a person with their back to him, sitting at the kitchen island. Hank didn’t seem alarmed, so it must be someone familiar to him. He had anticipated enjoying one more cup of coffee alone with his thoughts. Turns out, he would have company this morning.
He recognized her as soon as he pushed the door open.
Edith.
“What’s going on, Edith?” he asked. The woman brushed aside a few stray tears on her cheeks and rushed to Marshall.
“I’m here because I didn’t know what to do and…I…I need help, Marshall,” she said with a shuttered breath. He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed the grieving widow’s back. A heavy sob was muffled by his jacket.
“Have a seat, I’ll make a fresh pot.”
With a trembling lip, Edith nodded and went back to her stool at the island. Her hands trembled as she placed them on the counter. Marshall ran into the washroom and brought back some tissues, placing them in front of her. Taking one to wipe her cheeks, Edith took a deep breath and seemed to mull over her words.
Marshall turned to prepare the coffee, not wanting to put any pressure on her.
“I’m so worried,” she began. “I told the police what I’d heard, and they weren’t sure what to make of the information, so I decided to come to you. Marshall, you’re like a son to me. The son I never had. Jack felt the same. He loved and admired you so much.”
She took a shuddered breath and blew her nose.
His throat thick, Marshall poured water into the coffee maker. He counted out a few scoops of coffee and dropped them into the filter, then started the machine. It was easier to think of making a comforting drink than seeing the pain on her face. He grabbed a few muffins from a container and placed them on a plate.
The antique floral plate slid on the counter as he pushed it toward her. “I love you too, Edith. Now tell me what is going on.”
She cupped her face in her hands, covering her red-rimmed eyes. Marshall pulled two mugs out of the cupboard and some cream and sugar, placing them in front of her. Silence stretched between them as they waited for the beep and Marshall served the hot coffee.
The older woman inhaled slowly and studied her cup, the cream still swirling in the mug from after she stirred it.
“As you know, I was diagnosed with cancer a few months ago and have been undergoing treatments. Jack was struggling with it. Even though we have a great medical system in Canada, there were bills. I couldn’t work, and expenses were piling up. You know, for travel, hotels, certain medications, meals, and all the things we need to receive treatments in the city.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you two were going through this,” Marshall said, his shoulders slumping.
“Jack was a proud man. He would never complain,” she said as she heaved a heavy sigh. “So when he was offered money to do a simple job. He accepted it. I’m not saying it was right, but I’m not here to judge him. It’s not up to me.”
A sick sensation pooled in his chest as Marshall sensed he was going to learn something he didn’t want to know. “What happened?”
“A man offered him a great deal of money to help him out.” Edith cleared her throat. “Jack was paid to keep tabs on you.”
His brows gathered in confusion. “What? How?”
“It started simple at first, and I don’t know many details. He didn’t like talking about it. Jack was miserable, but we needed the money. Gathering bits of information and reporting to someone. He thought it was harmless. I found these papers, here.” Edith slid the slim file across the countertop, and Marshall stopped it with his hand. Lifting the papers, he opened the file and glanced at the information contained within it.
The fucking Lorimer Fertilizers file. Colette would lose her shit when she saw this. It wasn’t missing. It was stolen. Someone made it disappear on purpose.
