Page 9 of The Wrangler and the Tenderfoot

I stared at the screen for a beat too long. The smart move was to ignore it, but of course, I couldn’t ignore it.

Rocky. How are the cows?

The response came so fast it was almost pre-written. He had to have had it waiting for me to reply.

Stinky. Just checking in. Want to meet up? Diner is open. Neutral ground.

I'd been trained to avoid entanglements. I'd also been trained to seize any opportunity to gather intel, especially from someone already willing to play both sides.

Sure. What time?

Half hour? Pie's on me.

I changed into presentable jeans, swapped my hiking boots for a slightly less embarrassing pair, and, after a minute's consideration, left my sidearm in the desk drawer. If the world's hottest foreman wanted to kill me, he could do it with a handshake.

That logic sounded better in my head. I went with it anyway.

I left the house without anyone noticing, not because I was stealthy, but because nobody cared if I came and went. The F-150 was hot enough to boil water, but I rolled the windows down until the a/c kicked in and started the drive into Hollow Ridge. The sun had started to dip, the light gold and low, and the only other cars on the road were battered pickups or anonymous white utility vans, but I was learning that was pretty normal for this area of the world.

I drove with the radio off, the sound of the wind and tires the only soundtrack. My hands were a little nervous, but I convinced myself it was from the adrenaline of the day and not the prospect of sitting across from a man who had twice now made my stomach flip.

The Creekside Diner came up on the left, its neon sign flickering against the encroaching dusk. The parking lot was nearly empty, just a few trucks and a battered sedan. I killed the engine, sat for a moment, and considered what I wanted from this meeting.

Information. Leverage. Maybe something else, but I wasn’t thinking about that right now. I shut that particular line of thought down as best I could, then got out and headed for the door.

The screen door slapped shut behind me. Behind the counter, Marge was filling a mug for a man in a sheriff’s jacket. She gave me a glance, then pointed to the back booth, where Reid was already sitting, eyes on his phone.

He wore a cotton shirt and looked only a little less at home in this setting than he had on the horse. When he looked up, there was no preamble, a brief, precise smile. “Hey,” he said.

I sat, and the booth vinyl stuck to the back of my knees. He slid a menu across, though I’d be ordering pie and nothing else. He didn’t know that. “So,” I said, “I guess this is neutral ground.”

He shrugged. “Less drama if anyone sees us. Also, the pie’s not bad.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. I scanned the menu anyway, buying time. “You texted?”

“You texted back,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “Most people would’ve ignored it.”

“Most people don’t work for the Colemans.”

That got the smallest smile. “You don’t look much like Coleman stock.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Reid scanned the room, but nothing about him was anxious. He was just… registering. Always. “Did you get to ride today?” he said, and I could hear the bait in the statement. He knew I’d been out, somehow.

I went for a vague response, playing it close to the vest. “Jupiter knows the land better than I do.”

He made a low noise. “Most animals do, out here.”

Marge appeared with coffee and poured for both of us without asking. She raised her eyebrows at me, and I nodded. “Pecan, if you’ve got it. If not, whatever’s least likely to survive another day in the case.”

She snickered, then left. The Diner wasn’t empty, but it was close. The lawman in the corner sipped his coffee and played on his phone.

“So what’s your angle?” I asked.

Reid blinked, and I watched his gears turn. “I could ask you the same thing. You wouldn’t have come if you didn’t want something.”

Damn, we were both way too suspicious, but I had a very good reason to be. “True,” I said. “I’m looking for help. Local help. Not the type you can hire off an app, as if that would work around here.”