Haystacks and Hoaxes (Cowboy Brand of Justice #3)

Chapter 5 First Assignment

Six days before Christmas

R ock slapped on extra aftershave lotion and took longer than usual debating which belt buckle to wear. Unlike the bodyguards employed by Lonestar Security, who typically wore black cargo pants and combat boots, the standard uniform for their new PI and forensics teams was identical to those worn by the Heart Lake Police Department —boots and a dress shirt tucked into jeans. He tried to tell himself that the extra time he took to get dressed this morning had nothing to do with the fact that he was about to spend his first full day on the job with Mila, but that would be a lie. It had everything to do with her.

Her opinion of him mattered — not just what she thought of him as a coworker, but as a man. As her supervisor, though, he couldn’t allow it to show. It was too bad that the first woman he’d wanted to date in a very long time now reported to him. And all he could do about it was keep things professional between them .

He thumped his way down the stairs, hating the necessity of dragging himself through life with the help of a stick. He missed things like jogging down the stairs two at a time and taking brisk morning runs. Being forced to slow down and take each day at a snail’s pace really changed a guy’s perspective. He no longer had the option of being in a hurry. He always had time to stop and smell the roses.

Or coffee, as was the case this chilly Tuesday morning. Though it was still dark outside, Gage already had a pot of coffee brewed, extra black the way they both liked it. The Hefner brothers didn’t require creamers or sweeteners.

“Look who’s getting an early start!” Gage poured a cup of steaming coffee for Rock and scooted it across the island to him. He’d recently upgraded all the formica countertops in the kitchen with marbled black and white quartz. They looked sharp against the weathered wooden cabinets he’d sanded down and stained with white oak glaze. To accent the rest of the room, he’d painted the center island cabinet a darker shade of slate. The dingy, textured walls were next on his to-do list to tackle. Rock was glad his brother was going to have more hands on deck to help sand them down. Painting the entire downstairs was going to be a big task.

He lifted the cup of coffee, breathing in the steam as he took a sip. “It’s Mila Kingston’s first day on the job,” he reminded. “We’re going to have a jam-packed schedule.” In addition to completing her new employee orientation, he was hoping to get started on the oil equipment theft case.

“Nope, I haven’t forgotten.” Gage yawned and stretched his arms high over his rangy frame. “Johnny and I are heading to her apartment to put our eyeballs on the crime scene.” He shook his head. “Or what’s left of it. According to Luke, the maintenance guy did his job a little too well, repairing the walkway and making it look as good as new before taking off for the holidays.”

“Does that mean the police haven’t spoken to the guy yet?” Rock didn’t like the sound of that. Too many details about the vandalized walkway weren’t adding up.

“Only over the phone.” Gage didn’t look any more thrilled about it than he was. “They were able to track down Mila’s landlord, though. He knew nothing about a custody case for Pat’s kids. All he could verify is that the guy is divorced. Her landlord was quick to add that Pat is a good guy. Hardworking. Reliable. Didn’t seem the least bit surprised that he’d delayed his departure to do a last-minute repair like that.”

It still sounded fishy to Rock. “Any chance you’d be willing to have your own chat with the landlord? It would be nice to verify that the guy who showed up at Mila’s doorstep is the actual Pat.”

Gage snorted. “Still trying to do my job for me, eh?”

“Please?” Of the two of them, Gage was the only one who was a trained investigator. However, Rock’s gut told him he was on to something.

“Already working on it.” Gage’s voice was dry. “Pat’s behavior didn’t set well with Johnny, either. He thought it was a little too convenient that the guy begged off calling the police, then immediately went on vacation.”

“Appreciate you guys for looking into it.” Rock would’ve preferred to examine the crime scene himself. However, he understood Deck’s reasoning for giving him and Mila a different assignment. She was too close to the case, which could cloud her judgment.

Gage gave the air a suspicious sniff. “Is it my imagination, or did you go a little heavy on the aftershave this morning? ”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Rock didn’t crack so much as a smile as he moved to the beverage station to grab a plastic lid for his cardboard cup. Since the coffee was piping hot, he added a coffee straw for the road.

“Sure, you don’t.” Not sounding convinced, Gage eyed him over the top of his own cup of coffee. “I feel obligated as an older brother to remind you to be careful.”

“Wasn’t born yesterday,” Rock grumbled. Mila reported to him. He had no intention of treating her with anything less than the respect she deserved. He grabbed his duffle bag and headed for the door.

“No, but you’ve spent your entire career in the Special Forces.” Gage straightened. “You haven’t worked with many women on the job. Trust me. It’s a whole different game.”

Rock paused at the door without turning around. “If you’ve got something to get off your chest, you may as well do it.” Not only were they brothers, they currently lived under the same roof, making honesty between them all the more important.

“Oh, come on! I saw how you looked at her, bro.”

Ouch! He’d have to be more careful today.

“And how she looked at you.”

Rock’s shoulders tensed. “That’s not funny.” Or possible. He was a broken-down soldier with an injury that had cut his first choice of careers short and had all but ended his social life. A guy with a limp like his didn’t get invited to many basketball scrimmages, hikes, and what not.

“That’s why I’m not laughing.” His brother’s voice was flat.

“She and I only met yesterday. ”

“I know.”

“I’m also her supervisor,” he twisted the door handle, “and her brother is my supervisor.”

“I am aware. Still asking you to be careful. That’s all.”

“Fine. I’ll be careful.” Hating the fact that his brother’s warning was fully justified, Rock pushed open the door and stepped outside. Though Gage kept offering to let him park in the garage, Rock had insisted on parking out front. Every time he defrosted the windshield of the classic Chevy pickup he’d bought second hand, it served as a reminder that living with his brother was a temporary arrangement. He didn’t want to get too comfortable there and wear out his welcome.

Like Johnny Cuba.

As Rock climbed behind the wheel of his truck, Gage’s partner gunned his way up the driveway, kicking up dust and gravel. Rock gritted his teeth and waited for the black Jeep to skid to a halt behind him.

While the dust was settling, Johnny hopped to the ground and jogged his way.

Guess I should’ve driven off quicker. Rock waited until the guy rapped on the window with the backs of his knuckles before rolling it down for him. “What’s up?”

Johnny smirked. “Got an awkward question. Not sure if it’s something I should even bring up.”

Rock’s heart sank. He already knew what was coming. “That’s never stopped you before.” From his angle, Johnny was the king of awkward, poor timing, and everything in between.

“True.” Johnny adjusted the brim of his Stetson, glancing away as he spoke. “So, um…I was thinking of inviting Mila over for Christmas.”

Rock’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you were hanging out with me and Gage for Christmas. ”

“Still am.” Johnny’s dark gaze skittered his way again. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay if Mila joined us.”

Resentment spurted through Rock. The thought of having to watch the guy flirt with Mila rubbed him every way but the right way. So did his insistence on worming his way into their lives like he was family.

“Never mind. Bad idea. I won’t ask her,” Johnny declared in a rush. “It’s not like it’s my house.”

Rock pinned him with a hard look, hating how easily the guy had read his feelings on the topic. “She has a family of her own in town. Who says she’d even come?”

Johnny shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting from one boot to the other. “Her parents are on a cruise, and I overheard Decker say something about visiting his in-laws on Christmas morning. Bet that would feel even more awkward for her than this conversation does to me.”

Rock’s empathies stirred in her direction. “Then invite her.” Even though he wasn’t at liberty to cross that line and invite her himself, he didn’t hate the idea of spending Christmas with her.

“Are you serious?” A grin spread across Johnny’s rugged features.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Rock shrugged irritably. “You should still run it past Gage, of course. It’s his house.”

“Thanks, man.” Johnny rolled his shoulders back to loosen a kink. “Since Mila reports to you, I didn’t want to make Christmas weird for either of you guys.”

Rock snorted. “Weird seems to be right up your alley.”

“You’re probably not the only one who thinks that.” Johnny glanced away guiltily, making Rock feel guilty for pointing it out. “I get that private investigating isn’t a normal career progression for a bull rider. I wouldn’t have made it this far if Gage hadn’t taken me under his wing. ”

A shadow passed over his features that made Rock wonder if he was in Heart Lake to stay. “You’re from Wyoming, aren’t you?” Texas was a long way from home for him.

“Yes and no.” Johnny pulled his hands out of his pockets to wave them vaguely. “That’s where my parents settled after Dad’s rodeo career. Before that, we went wherever the circuit took us.”

“Was he a bull rider like you?” Rock knew he was being nosy, but it was the first time Johnny had really opened up to him.

“Yep.” Johnny shielded his eyes from the morning sun as he continued gazing off toward the mountains. “It’s what I’d still be doing if I hadn’t run into Josh and Decker at the Western Hearts Livestock Show a couple of years back.”

Rock nodded, knowing Johnny was referring to the local rodeo run by Wayne Whitaker, who also served as the tribal leader of the Comanche reservation that butted up to the south end of town.

“They took a chance on me,” Johnny continued in a wry voice. “Most folks assume bull riders don’t have enough between their ears to button their own shirts, much less train as a PI.”

“Gage likes working with you,” Rock offered grudgingly, still jealous of the brotherly vibe they seemed to have between them.

Johnny looked surprised. “Did he say that?”

“In so many words.” Dude, you practically live at his house, and he allows it. What other conclusion could you possibly draw?

A grin smeared itself across Johnny’s face. “Well, what do ya think of that? ”

I’m not thrilled about it, but I’ll get over it. “Sorry to cut this short, but I’ve gotta roll.”

Johnny slapped the side of his truck and stepped back. “I’ll let you know what Mila says about Christmas.”

A fresh stab of irritation sliced through Rock, but all he did was wave two fingers in dismissal. He had no choice but to act like Mila joining them for Christmas was no big deal, even though it was. He started driving before he finished rolling up his window.

To his surprise, the door of his office was open and the lights were on when he arrived. Stepping inside his office, he discovered why.

Mila was seated in one of the guest chairs in front of his desk. She sprang to her feet at the sight of him. “I know I’m invading your space. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He moved to his desk to drop his duffle bag on it, still not sure how she’d gotten in without a key. However, she’d nailed the standard uniform for PIs and forensic artists at Lonestar. Man, but she knew how to fill a pair of jeans! She’d pulled a creamy turtleneck sweater over them that emphasized her curvy figure even more. Gage had been right to warn him that working alongside Mila was going to feel different from working with the all-male squads of soldiers from his last job. He didn’t think it was simply because she was a woman, though. It was because she was this woman .

He wasn’t sure what it was about Mila Kingston that held him in such enthrall. He’d met and mingled with beautiful women before, even dated a few of them, but he’d never felt the powerful sense of awareness he experienced every time they were in the same room —during her interview, at her brother’s house, and right now. He wasn’t simply aware of everything she did. He was hyper aware of her every word, every change of expression, every movement.

“Deck said he’s gonna clear out an office for me. Since it’s not ready yet, he used his master key to let me in here this morning.”

Mystery solved. Rock mentally pictured shrugging off his hyper awareness of her as he shrugged out of his insulated leather jacket. It didn’t work. The effort to do so left him feeling toastier than if he’d kept his jacket on. “Make yourself at home.” He wished he had a ceiling fan to turn on. “We’ll crank through the paperwork as fast as we can. I’m hoping to get it knocked out in an hour or two, so we can drive out to Canyon Creek Petroleum this morning.” As he opened his laptop and turned it on, he could feel her expressive hazel eyes studying him.

“Works for me!” She sounded as excited about getting started on their first case as she had the evening before.

Considering everything she’d been through during the past twenty-four hours, her answer was all the more admirable. He waggled his eyebrows playfully at her to hide his surge of protectiveness. “I hope you didn’t think I was gonna let you slack, just because it’s your first day.”

Her merry chuckle filled the room, teasing and taunting his senses. “While you prepare to bury me in paperwork, I have a sort of weird question to ask.”

Great. He locked gazes with her. Thanks to Johnny, his morning had already started off weird and awkward.

She looked uncomfortable. “A few minutes ago, I received a text from one of the PIs down the hall.”

“Johnny Cuba, eh?” He sank into the chair behind his computer, carefully propping his cane against the edge of his desk. The guy sure hadn’t wasted time getting hold of her.

“He invited me to join y’all for Christmas. Like…at your brother’s place.” Her cheeks turned rosy.

He carefully schooled his expression. “Are you coming?”

She looked anxious. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

He wasn’t clear if she was asking about Christmas or getting something started with Johnny Cuba. He could only hope she didn’t mean the latter. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?” He pulled up the email Decker had sent him with her benefits paperwork attached to it. Opening the documents one at a time, he pushed the print button. The printer behind his desk whirred to life and started spitting out paper.

“Because I report to you, that’s why.” She leaned forward to prop her elbows on his desk. “I don’t want you to think I’m being unprofessional or anything.”

He reached for the first fistful of pages on the printer and swiveled back to his desk to sort them. “If you’re worried about it, you might run it past your brother. I’ve only been employed here a few months longer than you, so I’m still learning all the protocols.” After Gage’s warning to be careful around her, he was surprised his brother had approved Johnny’s request without so much as a heads up.

“I already did,” she admitted, making a rueful face. “I called Deck right after I read Johnny’s text.”

“And?” Rock slid the medical insurance enrollment paperwork across his desk toward her.

“He sounded relieved that I had a place to go. Apparently, his in-laws are hoping to have him, Chanel, and their only grandchild to themselves on Christmas morning.”

“Sounds like you have a couple of decisions to make.” He tapped a finger against the top form he’d printed out. “Whether you want to celebrate Christmas with a bunch of coworkers and a football game blaring in the background,” he paused to let that sink in, “as well as which of these medical insurance options will work best for you.” He explained the differences in coverage and copays.

“Wow,” she breathed, selecting one of the plans. “It’s going to be nice having medical insurance again. I dropped off my student coverage shortly after I graduated.”

Rock was troubled to hear she didn’t currently have medical insurance, especially considering how close she’d come to being injured yesterday. Twice. Three times, if he counted the road rage incident.

She moved her finger beneath the line she was reading on the form, looking a little dazed.

He cleared his throat before continuing her new hire orientation. “Your medical benefits will begin at the first of the year.” He wished it were sooner.

“That’s fast!” She didn’t look the least bit dismayed over the delay of two weeks and change. “I promise to be extra careful between now and then, considering how I’m a company asset and all.” Her voice was teasing.

“We’d appreciate that.” Impressed all over again by her grateful attitude, he made a mental note to ask her brother what it would take to start her medical coverage sooner.

Since Mila didn’t debate her benefits options for long, they finished early. “My first retirement plan,” she murmured, rubbing her hands together excitedly. “Step aside, world! Mila Kingston is really going places now!”

Her words made his protective instincts kick in again. She was so beautiful, full of life, and excruciatingly vulnerable. As a first step in using every resource available to him to keep her safe, he took her to the supply room to try on bulletproof vests. He held them up one at a time while she shoved her arms into them, insisting she keep going until she found one that was a perfect fit.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you expect us to be dodging bullets out at Canyon Creek Petroleum.” Her voice took on a breathless edge as she zipped up the vest.

“Nope.” He tugged on his own vest. “It just means we’ll be prepared for anything and everything.” Until her medical insurance coverage started, he wasn’t taking any unnecessary risks. As long as they remained outside, her winter coat would conceal the bulkiness the bulletproof vest added to her outfit.

Mila glanced down with a rueful look. “I feel like the abominable snowman in this thing.”

“If it’s any comfort, you don’t look like him.” Rock winked at her as he angled his head toward the door. He was eager to get going.

Her assigned bodyguard accosted them on their way to the motor pool. “I’m Hawk Chesney.” The man’s dark gaze zoomed in on Mila. “The person who’ll be sticking to you like a cocklebur.” His blue-black longish hair and swarthy skin told Rock he’d probably been born and raised on the Comanche reservation next door to Heart Lake. He liked the guy’s first name and really hoped he would live up to it.

Mila rolled her eyes as they shook hands. “With such a big and tall cocklebur hanging around, does that mean we can remove our bulletproof vests?”

Instead of answering her, Hawk’s gaze moved questioningly to Rock.

“Never mind,” she sighed. “Clearly, I’m outnumbered here. I’ll content myself with dreaming up all the dastardly ways I intend to get even.”

“Atta girl!” Rock held back a chuckle as he texted the owner of Canyon Creek Petroleum.

On our way, sir.

Over coffee, Gage had stated that he’d called Pete Plowman first thing this morning to give him a heads up about sending a different team out there today.

Mr. Plowman’s response flashed across Rock’s screen. No words. Just a thumbs up emoji.

“He’s expecting us.” Rock stopped by the guard shack to request the keys to a black Hummer. Normally, he didn’t care what he drove. Today, however, he had a partner to impress. Having Hawk tag along to watch Mila’s back would allow them to focus more on their crime scene sketches.

Mila blew out a breath as they reached the Hummer. “We could easily drive this thing onto an action-thriller movie set. If that was the point of wearing these bulletproof vests…” She didn’t sound like she’d forgiven him yet for making her wear one.

“The point is to keep us safe.” He opened the passenger door for her. “You okay with riding shotgun?” He didn’t mind taking turns behind the wheel if she preferred to drive.

“I’m perfectly fine serving as a passenger princess.” She accepted his assistance into the vehicle. “You know the way, and I’m the one dragging a life-sized cocklebur.”

Looking amused, Hawk pulled open the passenger door behind her and climbed inside. He didn’t seem to mind breathing down her neck from the backseat.

Rock tossed his sketchpad on the console before buckling his seatbelt. To his delight, Mila placed hers on top of his in a move that felt both playful and intimate.

On the drive to the outskirts of town, she fiddled with her cell phone. “I’m still trying to decide how to respond to Johnny.”

Rock nodded, keeping his voice bland. “About Christmas?” No doubt Hawk was curious about their conversation, but the bodyguards at Lonestar Security were skilled at being seen and not heard. For someone who’d never employed the services of a bodyguard before, Mila seemed to be equally skilled at ignoring Hawk’s presence.

“Yes. That.” She started typing. Then she sighed. “Okay, I said yes. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m trying to get something started with him.” She gave Rock a sideways glance. “Because I’m not. I’m thinking it would be best to keep things professional with all of my coworkers.”

Her announcement made his heart sing. Though he was lumped into her statement, so was Johnny. It was a relief knowing he wouldn’t have to watch his brother’s partner slobbering all over her on Christmas morning. He felt like breaking into a celebratory jig the moment his boots hit the frozen ground at Canyon Creek Petroleum, cane and all.

The refinery was sprawled across two hundred craggy acres. According to the file he’d read on the case, the company shared a property line with Chester Farm.

Pumpjacks were steadily rising and falling on the gently rolling fields as far as he could see. More than a dozen olive green storage tanks crisscrossed with walkway systems towered over the stacked stone headquarters building directly in front of him. More storage tanks rose in the distance.

Mila pushed open her door and hopped to the ground unassisted, slamming the door shut behind her.

Wondering what was wrong, he climbed out of the vehicle and limped around the front of it as fast as he could to reach her .

He found her fanning her face with both hands. One of them held the sketchpad he’d left in the Hummer. “Please assure me we’ll be working outside. I feel like a wax candle in this vest, melting into a puddle.”

“Yes, we’ll be working outside.” He held out a hand for his sketchpad. “Sorry about the extra insulation.” It was only to keep her safe. He wasn’t sorry about that part.

“Apology accepted.” She playfully slapped the sketchpad against his palm.

He hid a smile. “Alright then. Let’s do this.” He shot a quick look at Hawk Chesney to make sure he was ready and received a single up-down nod in return. Though Lonestar Security guards were trained not to be overly talkative, he was especially untalkative.

A white-haired gentleman emerged from the stone building in front of them. He was wearing a slouched Stetson and a weathered leather duster coat.

“There’s the owner.” Rock lifted his hand in greeting.

The man waved back as he ambled their way. “You must be Rock Hefner.” He nodded politely at Hawk, but he barely glanced at Mila.

“I am. Nice to meet you, Mr. Plowman.” Rock shook hands with the old timer, wondering if his reaction to Mila’s presence meant he had a burr under his collar about working with women.

“Call me Pete,” the aging fellow insisted.

“Pete, this is my partner, Mila Kingston.” Rock deliberately pulled her into the conversation. “She’s a fellow forensic artist. If her last name sounds familiar, it’s because she’s Decker Kingston’s sister.” He wasn’t above name dropping when it suited him, and right now it suited Rock to have Mila treated with the respect she deserved as a member of their team .

Pete grunted instead of saying anything. He did, however, grudgingly extend a hand to her.

She gave him a warm smile. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

“And this is Hawk, a member of our security detail.” Rock didn’t share the guy’s last name. He’d been trained to protect the personal information of Lonestar’s bodyguards as much as possible.

Pete Plowman looked appropriately impressed as he shook Hawk’s hand. “Appreciate you guys for coming. I’ve been at my wits’ end, trying to replace all the equipment that keeps disappearing. Losing those last two pumpjacks really set us back.”

Rock frowned. “I take it you’ve been experiencing an uptick in thefts?”

Mr. Plowman nodded bleakly. “If they continue at this rate, it could put us out of business.”

It was a surprising claim for the owner of such a profitable company to make. Mr. Plowman added defensively, “If you don’t believe me, I can show you the numbers.”

“I believe you, sir.” The fella had nothing to gain by misrepresenting his bottom line. “Have you reported the missing pumpjacks to the police?” Gage had said that Mr. Plowman wanted to keep the police out of it, but Rock preferred to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

“I want to, but I can’t afford to.” Mr. Plowman shot a harried look toward the headquarters building. “Walk with me, and I’ll explain.”

He led them across the gravel parking lot toward the olive green storage tanks. “Our profit margin has shrunk for three quarters straight. For the first time since I started this company, folks are worried about their jobs.”

“I’m sorry to hear it, sir.” It still didn’t explain why he was so dead set on keeping the police out of the investigation.

“Sir, you said you recently had two more pumpjacks stolen,” Mila noted in a quiet voice. “How many missing pumpjacks does this bring you up to?”

“Four.” Despair rang in the man’s voice. “We made the mistake of getting the police involved when the first one disappeared, and it cost us a major investor. Said they’d rather put their money with a firm that had better accountability of their inventory. The insurance claim backfired on us, too. Our insurance carrier hiked our premiums so much that we had to drop them and go with a different carrier altogether.”

“A double whammy.” Mila sounded sympathetic.

“Straight to the chest,” Mr. Plowman agreed. “When the second pumpjack disappeared, we decided to write it off as part of the cost of doing business. As much as it hurt, it was cheaper than more bad press and another insurance hike.”

“And now two more pumpjacks have gone MIA,” Rock mused soberly. “Did they go missing at the same time?”

“As far as I can tell.” Mr. Plowman led them past the storage tanks down a narrow gravel road. It took a few minutes of walking to reach the site where one of the stolen pumpjacks had been located. One of the panels of its brightly painted yellow cage was lying in the gravel. The rest of it was still standing.

Mr. Plowman moved around the yellow cage and faced them. He motioned toward the headquarters building with both hands. “Our security cameras didn’t pick up anything since the storage tanks are blocking this spot. Same thing with the other one that went missing.”

It sounded premeditated to Rock. He whistled beneath his breath. Someone must have cased the pumpjack locations in advance.

“I’m trying to wrap my brain around the logistics of stealing one of these.” From Mila’s puzzled look, he could tell she was thinking the same thing. “It’s not like you can pick up one of these monsters, tuck it under your arm, and take off running with it.” He walked around the crime scene with his cell phone, snapping photographs.

“No kidding.” Mila flipped open her sketchpad. Her pen flew over the page as she sketched the carnage in front of her. Hawk anchored himself by her side, constantly sweeping the perimeter with his dark, all-seeing gaze.

“You ain’t a-kidding. It takes planning, equipment, and know-how to pull off a robbery of this magnitude.” Mr. Plowman gestured bleakly at the empty pumpjack site. “A lot of folks are blaming it on the rise in illegal border crossings and cartel activity, but it’s anyone’s guess who’s really behind it. That’s where you guys come in. The next time I go to the police, I need them to be in a position to make an arrest and wrap up the investigation quickly.”

To avoid losing more investors. Rock understood his reasoning. In the meantime, he was glad the man was willing to put his trust in Lonestar Security. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this, sir.” He wasn’t making idle promises. Not only would the Lonestar investigators chase down every clue, Rock was a firm believer that justice would prevail in the end.

He finished his snapshots and flipped open his sketchpad. Moving to the opposite side of the pumpjack site from where Mila was standing, he drew it from a different angle. From the corner of his eye, he watched Mr. Plowman edge in her direction.

As soon as the old timer took a peek at her work, Rock had the pleasure of watching his bearded jaw drop in surprise.

She glanced up and caught Rock’s eye, pointing at the side of the cage that was lying in the dirt. “The thieves used a winch with a hook. You can see the transfer of red paint from the hook inside those scratches on the fence wall. I’m also guessing they had a pair of street sweepers mounted to the back of the truck they used to haul away the pumpjacks. You can see the circular motion left by them in the dirt where the tire tracks would’ve been.” She squatted down to peer at the ground. “Here.” She flipped to a blank page and swiftly drew what she was looking at. “And here.” She flipped to another blank page and drew the next aberration in the dirt.

“You’re really good at this.” Mr. Plowman’s breath left a mist of whiteness hanging in the cool mid-morning air as he bent over her to see what she was pointing at. “I’ll admit when Decker first mentioned sending out a team of forensic artists, I thought it sounded like a bunch of hooey. I stand corrected, and I’ll tell him so myself.” A seed of hope wafted across his wind-chapped features.

It was as good as an apology for how he’d treated Mila during their initial introduction. Rock joined their huddle to sketch the crime scene from yet another angle while she finished capturing the markings in the dirt.

“We’re gonna need a description of the missing pumpjacks.” He drew the mangled side of the yellow metal cage. “Purchase receipts, model numbers, dimensions, and anything else you can think of that might be helpful in locating your missing equipment.”

“Sure thing.” Mr. Plowman scowled thoughtfully. “I can tell you this right off the bat. All four of them were among the smallest ones on the market. Some of the first ones I ever bought. They’d fit in the bed of a regular size pickup truck.”

“Good to know.” That would certainly explain the lack of deeper ruts in the ground. It might also explain how the truck or trucks had gotten on and off his property without attracting undo notice. “Would you mind describing the kinds of trucks you normally have coming and going around here?”

“Mostly oil tankers.” The man shrugged wearily. “Plus a half dozen or so employees drive company-issued pickups and flatbeds. All white with painted door logos. All commercial models.”

“If you haven’t already provided it, may we get a copy of your security footage for the time window surrounding the thefts?” Rock couldn’t recall being briefed on the security footage.

Mr. Plowman ducked his head in embarrassment. “Unfortunately, we experienced a power outage that same evening. We didn’t realize our cameras were down until after the pumpjacks went missing.”

“What about the first two pumpjack thefts?” Rock couldn’t help wondering if the power outage meant the thefts had been an inside job. He’d done some reading on the topic before bed last night. According to the Texas Oil & Gas Association, sometimes robberies were engineered by disgruntled former employees or even disgruntled current employees.

Mr. Plowman shook his head in discouragement. “I didn’t have the security cameras installed until after the second one disappeared.”

“No witnesses?” Rock pressed.

“None,” the older gentleman sighed. “I know what you’re thinking. ”

Rock still felt obligated to pursue the topic. “Then I apologize for bringing up such a tough topic, sir.” He watched Mr. Plowman’s expression grow mutinous.

“The answer is no.” His voice tightened with indignation. “Though I can’t prove a blessed thing at the moment, nobody in the company would steal from us. Our executive staff has been on board for more than a decade. The hourly workers are honest and hardworking. Every last one of them passed an extensive background check.”

“How’s your turnover rate, sir?” Rock knew that some or all of these questions had already been asked, but he preferred to do his own due diligence.

“Low.” Mr. Plowman didn’t elaborate.

“How do you measure your employee satisfaction rate?” Some company owners didn’t care enough to even attempt to measure it, but his gut told him that employee satisfaction mattered to someone like Pete Plowman.

He nodded eagerly. “Our human resources director uses a number of tools — everything from employee surveys to an anonymous suggestion box. Our employee satisfaction numbers peak this time of year every year because of the holiday bonuses we award.”

“I bet.” Though Rock had gotten most of his questions answered, theories were still forming inside his head. Even if an unhappy employee wasn’t involved, he was still leaning toward a company vehicle being involved. Or a lookalike vehicle. He intended to share his thoughts on the matter with Gage and Johnny before the end of business today.

He and Mila wrapped up their sketches and moved on to the next crime scene to repeat the process. It took another hour to finish their drawings, gather the requested purchase receipts and model numbers for the missing pumpjacks, and hit the road again. Like he’d done before, Hawk silently rode along in the seat behind Mila.

Rock glanced at his watch and noted they’d worked clean through lunch. “You hungry?” He raised a single eyebrow at his lovely partner.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Is that a polite way of saying you hear how loud my stomach is growling?”

He grinned. “If it is, it’s being drowned out by how bad my own stomach is complaining. Where’s your favorite restaurant?”

“Anywhere that’s cheap,” she said flatly. “The last place I worked is run by my ex’s mother, so I’ve been between jobs for a few months. Don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly. “I’ve survived off my income as a makeup artist, but I haven’t exactly been living high on the hog.”

He already gathered that for himself, considering she’d also been living without health insurance. He wished he hadn’t said anything about going out to lunch. “Tell you what.” The wheels of his mind spun for a solution that wouldn’t break the bank for her. “We’re about to pass by my brother’s place.” It wasn’t one hundred percent true. Gage’s homestead was about a mile out of their way, but it was close enough for what he was proposing. “And I know for a fact we have cold cuts, bread, and sandwich toppings on tap. Not only would it save the time of waiting in line at a restaurant, Gage keeps a company laptop at home, which means we could make it a working lunch.”

She gave a breathy chuckle. “My pride says no, but my emaciated checkbook says yes to such a generous offer. What about you, Cocklebur?” She tossed a laughing look over her shoulder at Hawk.

He sent her a thumbs up. “It’s your call. I’m just along for the ride. ”

Feeling like they’d reached a consensus, Rock made a left turn at the next four-way intersection of stop signs.

“I’ll pay you back,” Mila said quickly. At his incredulous look, she added, “I’ll whip up a batch of cookies or something. What kind do you like?”

“A working lunch means you’ll be paying up in elbow grease,” he assured.

“Fine. I’ll bring the cookies Christmas morning then.” Her voice grew wheedling. “Answer the question, partner.”

“Plain old chocolate chip.” Not only was it the truth, they would be the easiest to make.

“There’s nothing plain or old about my rockstar chocolate chip cookie recipe.” She shot him a sassy look that made his heart thump harder in his chest. “Any food allergies I need to be aware of?”

“Nope.” He was fortunate in that respect. “Nor does my brother.”

“What about Ella and Johnny?” Ella was Gage’s fiancée. “Or anyone else that’s coming?” She turned around in her seat to wrinkle her nose at Hawk. “I’m new to this whole,” she waved her hands between them, “whatever this is.”

“A security detail.” His stoic features relaxed a few degrees.

She gave a long-suffering sigh. “Does this mean we’re permanently glued together or what?”

“If that’s what you and your brother want, ma’am,” he answered politely. His expression returned to its usual mask.

“Please don’t call me that,” she sighed, waving her hands at her face. “I’m miserable enough up here in this suffocating vest. I’m Mila, and I’m not usually this cranky. I promise. ”

Though his lips didn’t move, he smiled at her with his eyes. “Believe me, ma’am?—”

“Mila,” she snapped.

“Believe me, Mila,” he repeated. “Working with you and Rock feels like an early Christmas gift compared to how some clients treat me.”

“Great. Now, I feel awful.” She shot a shamefaced look at Rock. “I’ll make it up to you as soon as I’m allowed to remove this personality-altering vest.”

Rock snorted out a laugh. “You win. Take it off.”

“Thank you!” She wasted no time shrugging out of it, which wasn’t an easy task beneath the confines of her seatbelt. She sailed it dramatically into the seat beside Hawk. “Hi!” She held a hand over the seat toward him, with her fingers squeezed into a fist. “I’m Mila. Big fan of cockleburs, especially the ones keeping me alive.”

He gravely fist-bumped her. “I’m Hawk. Cocklebur is a nickname my tribe gave me, since I pull security for our chief during my off-duty hours. It’s a joke that stuck.”

“It stuck, huh?” she chortled. “Just like a cocklebur. Cute.” Her voice trailed into silence as she gazed wide-eyed at Gage’s farmhouse, the rolling fields on both sides of it, and the cozy little guest house behind it where Ella Lawton had been staying since her arrival to town. Gage had proposed to her a few months ago, but they hadn’t set a wedding date yet. Rock hoped it wasn’t because of his boyhood pact with his brother for them to get married on the same day. Though his brother had crossed his heart over his end of the bargain, they’d been too young at the time to understand the adult implications of such a promise.

“It’s so beautiful.” Mila’s voice was so wistful that it twisted Rock’s heart .

“You can take the girl out of the city, but not the city out of the girl, eh?”

“I used to think that,” she returned. “It feels like a lifetime ago. My twenty-fifth birthday will mark a full decade of living in Heart Lake.”

“Your birthday is next month, isn’t it?” Though he pretended like he wasn’t sure, he’d read it on her job application.

“January sixteen.” She gave him an amused look. “As if you and Cocklebur don’t already have my bio sheet memorized.”

“Guilty as charged.” She was probably right about Hawk, too.

“You didn’t miss much at today’s crime scene,” she declared with a smile. “It felt like a full-blown interrogation.”

“You didn’t miss much, either.” Her performance at her first crime scene had exceeded his expectations. “Nice work on those tire tracks. A lot of people wouldn’t have visualized a commercial street sweeper after seeing a few brush marks in the dirt.”

She looked like she was trying not to laugh. “I’ve watched a lot of crime shows.”

So had he. “What’s your favorite?”

“All of them,” she confessed with another merry chuckle.

Visions of a movie date with her danced in his head —complete with bowls of popcorn and a crackling fire in the hearth. He could practically feel her head resting against his shoulder and the brush of her silky hair against his cheek.

“Are you going to slow down or plow right through the front porch?” Her fingers curled spasmodically against his upper arm.

He immediately feathered his brakes and skidded to an abrupt, Johnny-styled halt on the circle drive. “Sorry about that. My mind was back on the case,” he lied, liking the way she’d instinctively reached for him.

As badly as he wanted to cover her hand with his, he remembered Hawk’s watchful presence in the nick of time.

The way she blushed and snatched her hand back made him wish he had, though.