Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Beau Elliott sat at his desk in the small Jessup Peak sheriff’s office, the early afternoon sun streaming through the blinds and casting stripes of light across the cluttered papers in front of him.

He rubbed his temple, staring down at his hastily scrawled notes about Teddy Van Meter. Something about Teddy didn’t sit right. He was slick—too slick—and Beau’s instincts, honed from years of dealing with criminals who thought they were smarter than the system, told him Teddy was hiding something. But just as he was piecing together his next steps, his phone buzzed on the desk.

He glanced at the caller ID. It was Rigid Redmond, his nemesis chief back in the city. “What the hell can she want? Hasn’t she antagonized me enough,” he muttered. “Elliott here,” he answered, his words clipped and pointed. Would she pick up on the fact he was here because of her? He leaned forward in his chair, ready for a battle if need be.

“Detective Elliott.” Instead of Janet on the line, it was his former commander. Bucky’s familiar no-nonsense tone came through the line loud and clear. “Good news. My medical leave is officially over. I’m back in the driver’s seat, which means your transfer to Jessup has been revoked. Pack your bags. You’re coming back to the city, my boy.”

Beau blinked, his words hitting him like a sledgehammer. He’d hoped this day would come sooner rather than later, but the timing couldn’t have been worse.

“Well, that’s awesome news, Chief,” he said carefully, already weighing his options. “Yeah, that’s awesome. I’m thrilled, but ah… I’m in the middle of something here. A case. And I’m the only one in this one-horse town who can track down leads, so…”

“A case?” Bucky sounded skeptical. “You’re in Jessup Peak. What kind of case could possibly warrant holding up your return? A missing chicken?” There was a pause and then the chief spoke again. “Knowing you, it’s probably got something to do with a girl.”

Beau didn’t know if he should be insulted or proud. He hadn’t been aware he had such a widely known reputation with the ladies. Regardless, this case had nothing to do with a girl he told himself, ignoring the poke to his conscience when thoughts of Abbie came calling. “Not at all, sir. This is a possible arson and sabotage case,” Beau replied. “It’s tied to a local ranch, and there are layers to it. I’m pretty sure there’s some financial fraud at play too. I can’t walk away right now. If I leave, the whole thing will go cold.”

Bucky sighed. “Elliott, we’ve got bigger fish to fry back here. You’re one of my best detectives if not the best and you can rest assured I made Janet fully aware of that fact. But I’m not going to argue with you. Finish up whatever hayseed drama you’ve got going on, but make it quick. I want you back in two weeks—tops.”

“Understood,” Beau said, his jaw tightening.

Bucky hung up, leaving Beau staring at the phone. He should feel relieved—his ticket out of this small town had just been handed to him. But instead, his gut churned with something that felt suspiciously like regret. Because as much as he’d resisted this assignment at first, the ranch’s troubles and the fiery, infuriating Abbie Carter had hooked him in a way he hadn’t expected.

“Damn it,” he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. He had to see this case through, if only to put his restless mind at ease and to get justice for Mr. Carter. It had absolutely nothing to do with the old man’s granddaughter.

He picked up his phone again and scrolled through his recent contacts until he found the goat herder’s number. It had been saved simply as “Goat Lady” because he couldn’t remember her name when she’d left the office earlier in the day. He tapped the call button and waited.

“Hello?” the woman’s bubbly voice came through the line.

“It’s Detective Elliott,” Beau said, keeping his tone professional. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh my gosh, Detective. I’m so flattered, but I have a boyfriend, but I can tell you right now, if I didn’t, I’d be all over you like stink on?—”

“What? Oh. No.” Beau pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, it’s not that kind of proposition. This is about a favor I need to ask you. It won’t take long and I’ll buy you a good steak dinner. That is, if you think your boyfriend wouldn’t mind? You can tell him it’s police business if it helps.”

There was a beat of silence before she squealed. “You want me to go undercover? Like on Law & Order ?”

“Sort of,” Beau said dryly. “But I’ll need you to look the part. We’ll be heading to the steakhouse where I’ll need you to blend in. Think you’re up for it?”

“Absolutely! Oh, this is so exciting. I’ve always wanted to be in a police drama. Should I wear something glamorous?”

“No,” Beau said quickly. “Just something casual. And I’ll need your help with something else. Where’s the best place in town for me to buy jeans and boots?”

“Oh, the hardware store, of course. They’ve got a little bit of everything.”

“Perfect. Meet me at the steakhouse at seven,” Beau instructed. “And don’t be late. And tell your boyfriend not to come to the steakhouse to spy.”

“I’ll be there, Detective,” she said, her enthusiasm practically bouncing through the phone. “And I’ll tell Willard not to come to the steakhouse. Ooooh, maybe this is just the push he needs to propose. Wouldn’t that be hysterical?”

“Sure, yeah, hysterical.” Beau started to hang up when he stopped himself. “Hey, I don’t know your name.”

“It’s Wanda. Wanda Pennington. Most people around here just call me, well, Wanda, ’cause that’s my name.”

Beau blinked. “Wanda, it is. I’ll see you tonight at the steakhouse. Seven sharp.”

“Got it. I’ll be there.”

He hung up, shaking his head. If nothing else, this would be an entertaining evening, for sure.

That evening, Beau pulled into the steakhouse parking lot, dressed in faded blue jeans, new boots he’d worked for at least half an hour to make them look well-worn, and a flannel shirt he wore over his plain, white T-shirt.

The boots felt foreign since he usually wore dress shoes or tennis shoes on the job in the city, but he found them strangely comfortable, a nod to his ability to adapt to any situation. He might have to consider buying a pair for when he returned to work in the city. Start a new fashion trend at the station.

He smiled at the thought of Big Earl Carmichael in a pair of cowboy boots. Earl used to play center for an NFL team. He was three-hundred-fifty pounds of pure muscle with a neck like a chopping block. If he could turn Big Earl to boots, the rest of the force wouldn’t bother to argue. He grinned at the challenge.

His “undercover partner” was waiting in her pickup in the parking lot. When she exited the vehicle, Beau blinked back his shock. She was wearing a bright green and orange plaid shirt that clashed with the inconspicuous, laid-back vibe he’d envisioned.

“Um, do you have a jacket or something?” he asked as he approached her.

“Too much?” she said, looking down at her shirt.

“Maybe a little.”

“Wait one minute.”

He watched the woman jog to her truck and return a couple of minutes later in a brown and white plaid shirt tucked inside her baggy jeans.

“How’s this?” she asked while she did a pirouette in clunky cowboy boots.

“Perfect.” Beau nodded his approval. “Um, do you have a thing for plaid or something?”

“Nah, when the hardware store has a bogo sale, I buy ’em up. Most of the time, plaid is all that’s left on the sale rack. Besides,” she shrugged, “goats don’t care what you wear.”

“Bogo?”

“Yeah, you know. Buy one, get one free.”

“Understood,” Beau tried not to grin at Wanda’s explanation because he sensed she was dead serious.

Together, they walked into the restaurant. Beau gave a quick glance around the room and asked the hostess to seat them at a table near the corner giving Beau a clear line of sight to all the tables.

“Hey, Wanda,” the hostess with Barbara showing on her name tag Beau didn’t miss the woman’s pointed looks between Wanda and him. There was no telling what rumors would be around town tomorrow. She led them to the table in the corner and dropped their menus on the table. “Your waitress will be with you shortly.” She dropped Wanda another pointed look. “Guess Willard was busy?”

“I’ll explain later. Can’t talk right now,” Wanda’s loud whisper pulled a few more folks at nearby tables into the unwanted conversation.

The woman pinned Beau with another curious look and nodded to Wanda. “I can’t wait to hear this one.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Beau said as she left to help more customers standing at the door to get a table. He raised his menu and used it as a block so he could look for Abbie and Teddy without being noticed. They were sitting three tables over, Abbie’s back was to him, her dark hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders. She wore a black blouse and a pair of starched jeans. Her attire was casual, and yet on her, it seemed elegant, sexy, and just right. Beau couldn’t help but notice how those jeans hugged her in all the right places.

“Where’s our mark?” Wanda whispered, leaning toward him.

Her comment surprised him. “Mark? Where’d you hear that term?”

“I told you. I’m a big fan of Law & Order .”

“I see.”

The waitress joined them. “What would you like to drink?” The woman looked up from her order pad. “Well, Wanda. Surprised to see you here with—” She turned toward Beau and then back to Wanda. “Without Willard. You have another fight about them damn goats of yours? You know he ain’t ever gonna ask you to marry him until you get rid of them goats.”

“That’s never gonna happen, Katy. You know I can’t get rid of them goats. Besides, not everybody hates goats.”

Katy’s gaze hit on Beau again. “Obviously not.”

“I’ll have a large glass of iced tea,” Beau jumped in hoping to dispel this conversation.

Katy nodded. “Got it. Wanda?”

“Same,” his co-conspirator answered.

“Figures. All right, I’ll be back in a minute. Might want to study the menu. Get your order in. It’s gonna get busy tonight.”

“Will do,” Beau said as the woman walked away. “Friend of yours?”

“Nah, I went to high school with her. Always was a troublemaker.”

“So is Willard gonna be mad tomorrow when everyone is talking about you and your dining companion?”

“Nah, Willard don’t ever get too fired up. Maybe it’ll do him good to think this hunk of burnin’ love is slipping between his fingers. And just for the record, I ain’t ever getting’ rid of my goats. They is family to me.”

Beau suppressed a grin. “I can see how dedicated you are to them.” Suddenly, a Tammy Wynette song came to mind and he couldn’t stop his warped sense of humor. “Stand by your goats, Wanda. Stand by your goats.”

She looked pleased. “Thank you, Detective Elliott. I’m glad there’s at least one man in this town that gets me.” Wanda shot him a flirty look and he quickly hid behind his menu.

“Hey, there’s that woman that was in your office today. She’s pretty.” Wanda shook her head. “But she’s with that Teddy Van Meter. I’d steer clear of them two. Teddy is trouble with a Capital T.”

“Why would you say that?” He threw a speculative look toward their table.

“Because it’s true, that’s why. Everybody knows you can’t trust a Van Meter. He’s just like his dad. And older brother. They have a reputation around town, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know. Tell me more,” Beau replied as he absentmindedly studied Abbie and her dinner partner over the top of the menu.

Wanda began to share stories of Teddy’s bad behavior as far back as she could remember. “Now mind you, I’ve only lived in Jessup Peak a couple of years, but I’ve heard stories about Teddy all the way back to his middle-school days when he was conning people out of their lunch money.”

Beau listened while his eyes fixed on Abbie as she laughed at something Teddy said. The sound of it made his stomach tighten, though he couldn’t decide if it was annoyance or something else entirely.

As the evening wore on, Beau kept one ear on the conversation with Wanda and the other on the low murmur of voices from Abbie and Teddy’s table. Beau couldn’t help but notice that Teddy was leaning in too close, his polished charm on full display.

“You’re staring,” Wanda noted, smirking at him over her dessert.

“I’m working,” Beau corrected, though he knew she wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Sure you are,” she teased, taking a sip of her water. “Do you and the pretty lady have something going on? Like, you’re not jealous, are you?”

Beau shot her a sharp look. “Jealous of what?”

She shrugged, clearly enjoying herself. “I mean, if you liked her, the fact that she’s on a date with Teddy Van Meter might put your nose out of joint.”

Beau snorted. “He’s not her type. Trust me, there’s nothing to be jealous of.”

“If you say so,” she said, her grin widening.

When he saw Teddy ask for their check, he asked for his. He wanted to stay on their tail until Abbie was headed home. He hurriedly signed his bill and he and Wanda hurried past their table. Abbie’s eyes rounded in recognition. Her mouth rounded in shock. Beau discretely touched his fingertips to the brim of his cowboy hat to acknowledge her without giving away his presence to Teddy.

Beau held the door open for Wanda as they exited the steakhouse, her cheerful chatter about goats and her favorite TV cop shows filling the cool night air. Just as they neared her truck, a hulking figure stepped out from the shadows. Beau was instantly on alert.

His hand on his gun in his shoulder holster, the door to the steakhouse swung open, spilling light and satisfied customers into the parking lot, including Abbie and Teddy.

“Well, ain’t this cozy,” his eyes flicked between Wanda and Beau, narrowing with every second until he settled on Beau. “Didn’t take long for the big-city cop to come around stealin’ a man’s girl. That might be the way it’s done in the big city, Detective, but we got a different set of codes down here.” Then he looked at Wanda, hurt and jealousy colored his face. “What’s he got that I ain’t got, Wanda?”

Wanda sighed, clearly unimpressed. “Common sense for one, Willard. He ain’t been in town two days. What kind of girl do you think I am? Besides, who said I was your girl? After all this time and no ring? I don’t know, Willard. That seems like a lot to ask for a hunk of burnin’ love like me, don’t you think?”

Beau stifled a grin, but Wanda wasn’t finished. “I’m a catch, Willard. I got my own house. My own business making and selling goat cheese, and I ain’t got no debt. I’m sexy. I’m healthy. And I got all my teeth. I don’t know what you’re waitin’ on to propose, but I ain’t waitin’ on you anymore. So step aside and let my date escort me to my truck.”

Willard hesitated, glancing at the growing audience. Finally, he muttered something unintelligible and stomped off into the night. Wanda turned to Beau with a sly grin. “Well, Detective, looks like you just made a new best friend.” Beau shook his head, catching a glimpse of Abbie’s barely hidden grin in the crowd. “Add it to the list,” he muttered, ushering Wanda toward her truck as the steakhouse patrons slowly dispersed, clearly disappointed the drama had ended without bloodshed.

Beau’s hand tightened on the steering wheel as he called Abbie, fully expecting her to be in rare form after the spectacle in the parking lot. It was the kind of thing he knew would amuse her to no end, and he could already hear her teasing tone in his head.

“Detective Elliott,” Abbie answered after the second ring, her voice laced with amusement. “How’s your new best friend?”

Beau sighed, knowing full well she wasn’t going to let this one go. “Wanda made it to her truck safely, thanks for asking. And Willard didn’t land any punches and I didn’t have to use my handcuffs on anybody so I’d say it was a successful evening.”

“That’s too bad. I’d have paid good money to see you use them on someone tonight.” Abbie replied, her tone teasing but with an edge that made Beau’s pulse quicken.

“The night’s still young.” Beau leaned back in his seat, his lips quirking into a grin. “Is that your thing, Carter? Watching guys in handcuffs?”

Abbie didn’t respond for a moment or two. “Not guys,” she quipped, her voice silky, “just you, Detective.”

Beau chuckled, low and deep, the sound vibrating through the phone. “Careful, sweetheart. You keep talking like that, and I might start thinking you like me.”

Abbie snorted, though the quickened rhythm of her breathing into the phone betrayed her. “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just entertained by the chaos that seems to follow you around.”

“Ah, so it’s entertainment, then,” Beau drawled, his voice dropping just a notch. “I’m absolutely sure I can keep you entertained, Carter.”

There was a beat of silence on the line, the kind of pause that was heavy with unspoken words. Beau could picture her, biting her lip as she decided whether to push the conversation further or retreat.

“Somehow, Detective, I don’t doubt that one bit,” Abbie murmured, and Beau could swear he heard the faintest hint of a smile in her voice. Then her tone shifted, a bit more serious, as if she was trying to remind herself of why she was even entertaining this conversation. “I’m warning you now, Elliott, you’d better wrap this case up soon. I’ve got a job waiting for me back in Manhattan, and I can’t stay here forever.”

Her words hit him harder than they should have. The thought of her leaving, of her walking away from this town—and from him—left a strange heaviness in his chest. But instead of showing it, he leaned into his usual sarcasm.

“Funny you should mention that,” he said, his tone casual. “I’ve got a job waiting for me too.”

“What?” Abbie asked, her surprise clear through the phone. “What are you talking about?”

“I didn’t exactly come here planning to stick around,” Beau admitted, keeping his voice light even as the truth weighed on him. “This was an outpost for outcasts and now that I’ve been called back to the fold, as soon as it’s solved, I’m gone.”

There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Beau wondered if she’d hung up. But then she spoke, her voice softer now, almost hesitant. “So, this is just temporary for you?”

“Yep,” he replied, forcing a grin she couldn’t see. “Just passing through, Carter. Which means I’ve got just as much reason to wrap this case up as you do.”

“Good,” she said after a pause, though there was something in her tone he couldn’t quite place. “Then we’re on the same page.”

“Glad to hear it,” Beau said, his voice dipping lower, softer.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Abbie said finally, her tone clipped as though she was trying to regain control of the conversation—and herself.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Beau replied, letting the endearment linger. When Abbie didn’t take the bait, he ended the call.

He stared at the phone for a moment, the grin fading from his lips. She’d leave when this was all over. So would he. That should’ve made everything simpler. But as he set the phone down in the seat beside him, the truth gnawed at him—nothing about Abbie Carter was simple.

He pulled into his driveway, ready to put the day behind him.

After a quick shower, Beau was just wrapping a towel low around his hips when his phone buzzed on the counter. Seeing Abbie’s name on the screen, he frowned and answered. “You okay?”

“I just got another call from Teddy,” she said, her voice tight. “He wants to meet with me again tomorrow at the ranch. He claims he’s willing to up his offer, but only if Grampa signs the contract tomorrow.”

Beau straightened, his cop instincts kicking in. “And he just decided to share that with you now? What else did he say?”

“I’ll tell you everything,” she said. “Open your door.”

“What?” Beau turned toward his front door, the phone still pressed to his ear. A soft knock echoed through the quiet apartment.

Beau opened the door, his phone pressed to his ear and a towel slung low around his hips. He hadn’t been expecting company, especially not at this hour, and certainly not the woman currently standing on his porch. Abbie Carter. Her green eyes locked on him, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Her gaze flickered—quick and almost imperceptible—but he caught it. A glance that started at his bare chest, lingered just a second too long, then darted back to his face. Beau lowered the phone from his ear, ending the call without a word. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his free hand bracing the wood above him, and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, Counselor,” he drawled, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “What can I do for you tonight?”

Abbie stood frozen, one hand gripping her phone so tightly her knuckles were white. Her lips parted slightly as though she’d come here with something important to say but had forgotten all of it the moment he opened the door.

“I was wondering if the offer to handcuff someone was still open.”