Page 26 of The Wrangler and the Tenderfoot

I watched for proprietary movements, the little gestures. Every motion was exploratory, poking and prodding. The men looked disgusted. Eli turned away at one point, looking like he was angry.

The men re-covered the crates, then shifted back. It was slower this time, more deliberate. Reid looked back over his shoulder before he went full animal. For a split second, I thought he was looking straight through the camera, through the screen, and into my room. I shivered.

I ran the clip again. Then again. Each time, I caught another tell, the way Buck clocked every shadow, the way the youngest one’s hand shook when he picked up a shell, the way Reid carried himself, even rain-soaked, even monstrous.

I thought about my grandfather. He’d told me the world was full of things that didn’t care if anyone believed in them. I wished he were alive so I could ask him what a person was supposed to do when the wolves put on jeans and drove F-250s. He'd probably have laughed. Then told me not to feed them.

I closed the laptop and lay back. My hands shook, but only a little.

I’d solved half the case. I’d proven what nobody in Hollow Ridge would ever say, if they even knew. Was the whole town in on the coverup? The Maddox family weren’t just wolves in the metaphorical sense. They were shapeshifters, werewolves. But if I called it in now, if I uploaded the footage to the Bureau, what would happen? Marcus would send a team, the Colemans could catch wind and move the guns, the Maddox pack could go underground, and the official report would read “delusions, false leads, possible side effects of local water.” I’d be done. The case would be over before it started. Knowing Marcus, he’d find a way to prove that I’d doctored the video.

And there was something else. I didn’t want to sell out Reid. Not yet.

I could almost hear Marcus in my ear, voice all smooth and sinister, “Jennie, you’re getting close. But don’t let emotion cloud the data.” Fuck Marcus. He was a bastard. But he was right. I couldn’t let my emotions override my good sense. I had to get more information before I did anything, and I was supposed to meet Reid in a little over an hour. How was I going to spend the day in the saddle with him and not let on like I knew he was a freaking wolf?

Only one way to find out. Time to get moving.

Chapter 12: Reid

I'd been sitting on the guns since the night at the lean-to. Three days of running the east fence, knowing what was buried out there under that tarp, turning over the same question. Who the hell was Jennie Benson, really. What did she have to do with those guns? She’d been watching us, thinking she was concealed and obscured, but I’d known she was there. She’d been on the ridge, just observing.

She wasn’t a geologist, that much I was sure about. She had some sort of formal training. I was damn sure about that, too. Before I went any further helping her, I needed to see something for myself.

She was good. Too good for someone who was only supposed to be testing soil. We’d done a solid week of morning rides, and she'd given me her attention, her questions, her dry read on every fence post we passed, and nothing else. Every time something caught her off guard, she just filed it away behind those too-big glasses and moved on.

I'd worked out a route that would take us to the guns without looking like I was taking us there. East along the creek, north toward Coleman's old cattle road, a jog through the mesquite. She didn't know this land well enough yet to read where we were headed. By the time she figured it out, it would already be in front of her, assuming she already knew they were there.

Jennie was already waiting by the time I reached the old sycamore at the trailhead. She had Jupiter out again. Jennie herself looked unrested, hair pulled back in something that resembled a ponytail just really crooked. Her shirt was untucked, and she had dark circles under her eyes.

“You okay?” I asked.

She nodded, adjusting her glasses. “Haven’t been sleeping the best. For the Coleman house to be so nice, their mattress is lumpy.”

“Your call. Want me to lead you around today?”

She paused, considering it, then said, “Sure, yeah. I want to see what you think matters today.”

We headed east in a silence more awkward than comfortable, neither of us wanting to break it. The ground was still slick from the rain, but the horses didn't care. Jupiter moved with her usual economy, never a wasted step. Ghost was jumpier than usual, ears twitching, nose in the wind, reading something I couldn't name.

She broke the silence first. "The older woman with the gray braid. She's on the porch every morning."

She was curious about the Maddox people. "That's Midge."

"Midge." She waited, but I didn't add anything. "Is she family?"

"She’s basically all of our grandmother, but she’s Calder’s blood grandmother.” I pushed Ghost around a low branch. "She ran the ranch with Calder's parents, and she stayed after they died and raised them. I've known her my whole life."

Jennie nodded slowly. "The kid?"

"Noah. He's eight. Sloane's boy."

"Who's Sloane?"

"Calder's sister. She works remotely." I didn't say what kind of work, because it wasn't my business to say. "She's the sharp-looking one who rides a gray horse."

Jennie was quiet for a moment. "I've seen an older man with white hair and a belt buckle that catches the light."

"Buck Rawley. He's been on Maddox land longer than I have."