Duke: Deputy Cowboy. Roz Fox Denny
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“How... Where did you hear that?” she demanded, doing a bit of stammering herself.
Duke took the ball from the boy with his right hand, and motioned Zorro on down the path. It couldn’t be more plain that Angie was shocked by her son’s knowledge.
He heard her mutter, “Never mind,” when Luke said that his gramps had told him. Irritation sparked in Angie’s eyes as she herded her chatty son to the house. Suddenly she stopped, turned and called, “Goodbye, Dylan. I hope you find Sarah’s horse. I’m sure it’s a huge worry.”
He tipped his hat. Unsure whether or not she’d even consider entering Luke in the Wild Pony Race now, Duke nevertheless needed to establish if it was a possibility. “So, I’ll give you a call if I locate any partners like we talked about,” he said, raising his voice so she’d hear. Although she hesitated, Duke saw her nod briefly, and so he said, “You keep an eye out for strangers who may not know you think you have nothing to steal. Log the number for the sheriff’s office on your speed dial,” he shouted as she was closing the screen door. “Your ranch is isolated. The police number in the phone book will reach Dinah or me.”
“I’m good,” he heard her say. But, happy she hadn’t totally dismissed him over his bull riding, Duke let Zorro into the backseat, slid behind the wheel and drove off. The sun was barely a glimmer, but as he glanced in the rearview mirror he noticed Angie still stood in her doorway, watching him.
“That’s a good sign, don’t you think, boy?” Duke told his dog. Zorro whined and batted his paw on the back of Duke’s headrest.
Feeling the adrenaline drain after his lengthy encounter with a woman he found appealing, Duke admitted he was beat and running on empty. But he couldn’t stop thinking, and liking, how he and Angie lingered along the path to her horse field. He felt less constrained around her. Unlike women who gushed over him at rodeos, Angie didn’t act coy and she didn’t flirt. Neither did she talk down to Luke, or scold him when it was patently obvious she didn’t want him asking about his father. And she let the boy get through a sentence without rushing to finish it for him the way Duke recalled happening to him. That was all the more frustrating and only served to make a stutterer stutter more.
He set his phone on the console and switched on the Bluetooth feature. He hit speed dial and listened to it ring twice before Dinah picked up, saying, “Sheriff’s Office, Sheriff Hart speaking.”
“Dinah, it’s Duke. I’m just leaving the Barrington ranch. The black horse Rob saw there is an old gelding. Anything else come in while I’ve been gone?”
“Not a single lead. It’s exasperating. Are you heading home to bed?”
“I thought I’d swing past the Number 1 Diner for their Monday-night special before I go home and crash. Care to join me for supper?”
“Rain check? I’m tired, too, and I still have to type up a report to send to the mayor.”
“Okay. I’ll come into the office early tomorrow. I want to make up a flyer with Midnight’s photo to tack up around town. I’ll make that the first page on the ranch website. And we should get notices out to auction barns, livestock and brand inspectors. Do you think anyone took any video of Midnight when Colt had him at the rodeo? If so, we can post it on YouTube.”
“You’ll have to ask Colt. I’m happy to let you handle all the techie stuff, Duke. Go eat, we can coordinate our next steps tomorrow. Hey, one last question. Did you think Mom looked okay, or should I worry about the strain this theft may have put on her heart? I don’t know much about angina, but someone said it could lead to other heart problems.”
“She took the theft of Midnight almost as hard as losing Uncle John’s special saddle. It is a blow just when it seemed the ranch might recover from its financial woes. She and Ace have to pay the loan they took out to buy Midnight, even if the horse isn’t there to earn his keep. But Ace or Flynn, or Leah would be better able to speak to your mom’s health. Last time I saw her before today was two weekends ago when I went with her to church. She referred to the bout of angina as a minor incident. Maybe we should take her at her word.”
“I suppose,” Dinah said, sounding a bit off stride herself. “When we do find the jerks who stole Midnight, you’ll have to keep me from wringing their necks.”
Duke laughed. Dinah talked tough, but she had the perfect disposition for her job. She knew Montana law, had grown up in Roundup, but her best trait in Duke’s opinion—she accepted people for who they were and looked for good in everyone.
“Laugh, but I want to nail the thieves working over our friends, family and neighbors so bad I can taste it.”
“Me, too. I think by upping their timetable they’re bound to get sloppy and make a misstep.”
“I hope so. Enjoy your club steak on toast and all the trimmings. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow.”
Duke clicked off as he pulled up in front of the redbrick diner. They all ate there so often they knew the nightly specials by heart. Tonight his timing couldn’t be better. A pickup about the size of his pulled out and left an opening where Duke could keep an eye on his vehicle from inside. “Zorro, be good while I’m in eating and I’ll bring you some steak.” The dog perked his ears, but he lay back down when Duke opened his door and cracked open a window far enough for Zorro to get his snout out for fresh air.
Sierra Byrne, who owned the diner, hadn’t grown up in Roundup, but she’d spent summers in her parents’ cabin on the nearby Musselshell River. And she served comfort food, which made her restaurant a hit with ranchers and rodeo cowboys who went for stick-to-the-ribs meals. Men and women alike enjoyed the mining theme. Duke wasn’t crazy about the tables with sparkly red Formica tops, but in general the place had a homey feel.
Several people greeted him as he entered and that, too, added to the diner’s attraction. Two members of the Roundup rodeo committee hailed him to sit with them. The town’s fair and rodeo loomed large in everyone’s mind as it was only a few weeks away. Preparation didn’t change much from year to year, but every year the committees jockeyed their events enough to claim the current rodeo/fair would be the best one yet. And it did seem to Duke that the fair added more booths, the parade got bigger and motels got booked quicker each year, which was good for the town coffers.
Farley Clark owned a gas station at each end of town. He also stored the movable bleachers at his ranch. Duke supposed Farley wanted to ask him to line up burly cowboys to assemble the bleachers. This evening, Farley and his tablemate, Jeff Woods, wanted to discuss the most recent robbery.
“Heck of a note,” Farley said, “Sarah and Ace losing that pricy stud. Thunder Ranch being hit twice puts me in mind that whoever’s doing this is thumbing their nose at Dinah. What’s she got in mind to do? Are there any leads at all?”
Duke shook his head. He hadn’t expected to get grilled about the burglary, or he probably would have skipped coming here. Not everyone in town had favored the idea of Roundup electing a woman sheriff. Farley had been one of the most vocal, and had supported Dinah’s opponent.
“I’ll take the special, with iced tea,” Duke called to Susie Reynolds, the waitress heading toward him. She gave him a thumbs-up, and turned back to deliver his order.
“You figure it’s a local?” Jeff asked, peeling the label off his bottle of sarsaparilla.
“Bound to be,” Duke answered. “Or else someone has spent a lot of time working out escape routes. They strike at night. Nobody hears or sees them make a getaway. Pete Duval’s ranch isn’t easy to find in broad daylight. Practically all of the ranches hit own dogs who haven’t barked in alarm. Dinah and I assume it’s guys who know the back roads and local ranch layouts.”
Farley Clark stirred two packets of sugar in his coffee. “Did you check at the bank if anyone is making deposits over and above what’s normal?”
“Dinah did.” Duke watched the man drink the syrupy black stuff. “Farley, these guys haven’t left any tracks. You know,