Beth Cornelison - Rancher's Covert Christmas

He jerked a nod and stepped aside, and Erin eased closer to the area where the deputy was nudging the parts of the broken ladder with his toe.

“Um,” she said and cleared her throat, “aren’t you going to photograph the scene before you move pieces?”

The deputy raised his head and eyed her. “We only do that at crime scenes, ma’am. No evidence of a crime here.”

“And how do you know there was no crime if you don’t examine the broken parts and try to determine what happened?”

The deputy tucked his thumbs in his utility belt, puffed his chest out and narrowed a glare on Erin. “And who are you?”

“Guest of the ranch. Concerned citizen. Witness to the accident. Take your pick.” She tipped her head. “I’m available now if you are planning to interview the witnesses.”

“Again, no need. No crime to investigate.” He took a step toward her. “Unless you know something about what happened that you’d like to share. You have a reason to believe this was more than an accident?”

She flipped up a gloved palm. “Context. Past incidents of vandalism here. And, in my experience, ladders don’t typically just fall apart.”

The deputy bent to pick up the bits of the rusty screw she’d found earlier. “They do when the hardware holding ’em together rusts out this much. The ladder was old. Worn out. I don’t see enough here to warrant an investigation.”

She held the deputy’s stare. The hard slash of his mouth said clearly he was miffed that she’d questioned his professional judgment, but she didn’t back down. She was no stranger to crimes being brushed under a rug, investigations neglected because of political agendas and the influence of money.

She heard the crunch of boots on slush but didn’t take her eyes from the deputy.

“Is there a problem here?” Zane said, stepping up beside her and dividing a glance between her and the deputy.

“I was just offering to tell Deputy—” she shifted her gaze briefly to the man’s name tag “—Morton what happened. What I saw. But he indicated he wouldn’t be conducting interviews or investigating the cause of the accident, seeing that he has no reason to believe anything untoward happened here.” She didn’t try to hide her sarcasm, and she earned a scowl from the deputy and a puzzled look from Zane.

Morton cast a disgruntled look at Zane before returning his dark glare to her. “Thank you for your concern, ma’am,” he said tightly, his expression flinty. “I’ll be sure to contact you if we have any questions for you later. Good day.” He turned sharply on his heel and stalked away.

Zane watched the officer go for a moment before facing her with a crease in his brow. “What did I miss?”

“I was just expressing my concern to the deputy that they weren’t doing a more thorough investigation of what happened here.” She motioned to the broken ladder, then rolled her shoulders, releasing some of the tension that had knotted there as she’d confronted the deputy.

“I see.” His lips pressed into a thin line, and he glanced toward the departing squad car. “As I said earlier, I appreciate your help with calming Dave. But if I may be blunt, Ms. Palmer...”

His return to her surname told her all she needed to know about his mood, his opinion of her conversation with the deputy.

“The incident is not your concern, and I would ask that you not interfere. Our family needs to maintain a good working relationship with the sheriff’s department. We have other issues pending with them, and it would be counterproductive to antagonize Deputy Morton or any of the other officers.”

“Even if they aren’t doing their job?” she countered, belatedly realizing that she should have stifled her knee-jerk reaction.

“Not your business,” he repeated calmly, though she could see the tick of the pulse in his throat and the twitch of muscles in his jaw.

She blew out a cleansing breath and gave him a nod. If she wanted to do her job properly, she had to try to maintain objectivity and not let her hot-button issues color the facts. She’d only just arrived, and she had far too much fact-gathering and observing left to do. Getting on Zane’s wrong side would be a mistake.

Later that day, just before dark, Erin knocked on the front door of the main ranch house, a notepad tucked under her arm. The door was answered by a pretty young woman with dark hair and a tall, willowy figure. Her gray eyes were bracketed with tiny creases that reflected the strain and concern for Dave that hung over the ranch.

“Hi,” Erin said, offering her hand to the woman, “I’m Erin Palmer.”

Although the brunette shook her hand, her expression remained puzzled. “Piper. Nice to meet you.”

Piper. Erin mentally reviewed the names her client had given her about the ranch staff and family members. Piper was Michael McCall’s daughter. Zane’s sister. Right... She could see the resemblance in the young woman’s pretty face.

Piper bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry. Am I supposed to know you? Did you have an appointment?”

“Uh, Zane didn’t tell you about me?”

Zane’s sister twisted her mouth in thought. “Not that I recall.”

“Well, with all the confusion this morning because of Dave’s accident, I guess he—”

“You know about that?” Piper blinked her surprised.

“Yeah. It all happened just minutes after I arrived.”

Piper caught her breath and smacked her forehead with the heel of her palm. “The writer! Of course. I’m sorry.” She opened the door wider and stood back. “Come in, please. I’ve been so flustered since I heard Dave got hurt, I totally forgot about your visit.”

“How is Dave doing?” Erin asked as she slipped off her coat.

Piper took the winter wrap from her. “Stable. It was a bad break. Both bones in his lower leg. He’s just come out of surgery to put in a metal rod to stabilize the leg.”

Erin winced. “Wow. I’m so sorry.” She cast a quick glance around. “So...is Zane around?”

“Oh...sure. I think he’s back in the office. Let me go ask him if he’s available to speak with you.”

While she waited in the foyer for Piper to return, Erin noticed a small black cat with a white bib and white toes peek around the corner from the next room. “Hello there.” She squatted and held out her hand. The cat crept forward to sniff her fingers, but when she tried to pat the feline, it shrank away from her touch. “I won’t hurt you.” She tried again to pat the shy kitty, but it turned and trotted away.

The thud of boots on the hardwood floor announced Zane before he appeared in the front hall. “Hi. Piper said you needed to see me.”

She stood and greeted him with a smile. “If you have a few minutes, I thought we could start on the article. I’d like to talk to you and anyone else that’s available.”

Piper reappeared beside her brother. “I’m free now. I just need to check that Connor’s doing his homework like he’s supposed to be.”

“Great! Can we meet in your office?” she asked, glancing at Zane.

He spread his hands, palms up. “Why not? I’ll rustle Josh up, and then you’ll have three of the four investors in the adventure company.”

Erin dipped her chin in agreement. “Perfect.”

“Back in five,” Piper said, heading out the front door.

When she glanced from the door to Zane with a confused look and a question on the tip of her tongue, he preempted her query saying, “She lives in the foreman’s house across the way. She married Brady this summer. Connor is their son.”

“Got it.” She flipped open her notebook and clicked her pen open to jot down the relationships and connections as she followed Zane down the hall to a small room that was likely once a bedroom but now housed a desk, bookshelves, printer stand and...a sawhorse with a well-worn saddle.