Chapter 6

"Looks like Mama isn't the only one keeping secrets around here," Coy said, glaring at Nash.

Nash pointed to the ground and began to stammer, "I-I have no idea how that, those… they got there."

"It's right behind where you sleep, Nash." Coy gritted his teeth. "And under your little garden of illegal shit."

"I swear to you, I have no idea how it… or they… whatever… got here," Nash defended, wiping sweat from his brow. "I mean, I've done some dumb things, but this? And why would I hide it back here, right behind where I sleep? You don't suppose…"

"Suppose what?" Coy asked.

"Suppose those crazy noises at night in the barn are from… this? Like it's haunting the barn?"

"Haunting? I agree," Cut chimed in. "He had nothing to do with this. He isn't… capable."

"Thank you, Cut. I think?" Nash scratched his head.

"Those are human and by the looks of it, fully intact, minus the… well, what we found over there," Coy shared. "What the hell happened here? And when?"

"Who?" Ransom asked, looking over the gruesome scene.

Lying over the freshly turned dirt pieced together was a full set of skeletal remains. The men stood over what was once a body and studied it as if the answers could be found right there before them.

"How long does it take for a body to fully decompose?" Cut asked.

Coy raised a brow. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. Might be a start to a timeline. Figure out who this is, and how they got here."

"And why…" Ransom said under his breath.

"Ten days with proper conditions," Coy said.

Nash gave him a bewildered look. "Ten days until what?"

"Decomposition. At a minimum, with perfect conditions, ten days, give or take. Depth of burial, ground and soil conditions, chemicals… It all plays a part. So, ten-day minimum."

"Up to?"

Coy looked at Cut. "Years. There isn't an easy answer. Given there aren't any other items or debris, either they were buried naked, or been there long enough for clothing to decomp too. Insects, worms, and such in the soil can make that happen faster… Wildlife."

"The fact that you know that is equally impressive and frightening," Cut admitted.

Coy knelt down and gave the remains a closer look. "Shallow grave, bone decomposition… Hard to say, but they've been here a bit."

"You can tell that just by looking at it?" Nash asked.

Coy nodded and took to his feet. "You couldn't have plowed but a couple of feet when you planted here and I know I didn't go much farther when I tore it all up. We went far enough for the skull to surface and didn't have to dig much to find the rest under there. Too many variables to be certain, but I don't think this is new. There would be evidence of chemical additives in the soil and, to be honest, we probably wouldn't be standing this close and breathing."

Nash took several steps backward. "Oh shit. You mean to tell me there's like lime or some crap in the air from digging that son of a bitch up?"

Cut took one large step back. "Is he right? Should we even be standing here?"

"You feeling okay?" Coy asked point blank.

"I mean, I'm sweatin', feel a little shaky, my heads spinnin' a bit, and I'm a little hungry, and…" Nash cradled his face in his hands and panicked. "Oh no… And I don't feel my face! We've been exposed to whatever that sucker died with in that there dirt and we're next. Ah, shit."

Coy reached over and flicked Nash's forehead, hard.

"Ouch, man. What the hell, Coy? Why'd you go and do that?"

"Because you can feel your face. You're just anxious." Coy shook his head. "Guessin' you've never seen a dead body before."

"Of course I have, all the time. They're all over this place. In fact, just found a real doozy the other day in the back forty…" Nash's words were dripping in sarcasm. "Of course, I haven't seen a dead body before. Or, in this case… no body, just… bones."

"It gets easier with time," Coy said, walking around the space, still studying the scene.

"We can tell." Cut snorted.

Coy rejoined them. "You grew up on a ranch. I'm surprised you're so uncomfortable with death."

Nash guffawed. "I find it more surprising that you're not uncomfortable with it. If I start having trust issues with you, this is why."

"I think you're right, Coy," Ransom said, assessing the scene. "Look around. They've been here quite a while."

Nash tossed his hands in the air. "Oh great, another one. Tell, us, Sherlock Holmes, what is your analysis based on?"

Both Cut and Nash turned to Ransom and waited for an explanation.

"Well, why'd you pick this spot to plant your stash?"

"Isolated. Nobody comes back here. We don't use this land for livestock or crops of any kind," Nash started. "It was easy to hide until CSI guy over here found it."

"Exactly. You just described the perfect burial ground for someone you don't want found," Ransom reasoned. "Isolated. Nobody comes back here. The land isn't used, therefore it was never plowed or turned."

"Jesus." Cut ran his hands through his hair. "This was well-planned and thought out. Who does that?"

"A killer," Coy chimed in, eyes still fixed and tracing their surroundings. "This could be anyone, and our suspect, just as elusive. If it were me, and I wanted to hide a body on the ranch, this would be a prime spot. Access from the main road, through the woods, undetected, and then hidden behind this here barn. Middle of the night, no one would know."

"You think someone dumped a body here?" Nash asked.

Cut shook his head. "We would've known. We have trail cams all over the property –– anywhere just like you described where we don't have a good visual."

"How long have those trail cams been installed?" Coy questioned.

"Most, not too long, but you're implying that whoever did this knew where they were and how to avoid them. That's a very small group of people," Cut argued. "People we trust and who have been with us a very long time."

"Or, it was done on the property and the trail cams aren't part of the theory," Ransom added, playing devil's advocate.

Coy nodded in agreement. "You're right, and that makes it an even smaller group of long-trusted individuals who are now on a suspect list. Either way, this is something sinister, and it happened right here on our land where our family lives."

"We could all be in danger," Ransom deadpanned.

They all looked toward the main house where he could hear the faint laughter of small children.

"We need to call the Sheriff," Cut fumed. "Instead of standing around here and playing who done it like a game of Clue, we need to call the Sheriff and get this figured out."

"Not yet. I'm running this one until we know more and we'll use my resources. They are far better than the local law has access to anyway."

"Coy…" Cut seethed. "That's my family in that house over there."

"Cut, I hate to say it, but he's right. We have no idea what we're dealing with or who. Give him time to run this –– at least get a jump start before we bring in local law enforcement. I'd offer up my resources but I'd worry about a potential leak to the press."

"Good point. Let's keep this contained. BK Security will be fast and discreet. Besides, it doesn't hurt to run through past cases of mine and Dillon's –– this could be a revenge case or sending a message, especially with all of us here, together."

"Good point, Coy," Ransom agreed. "Can't forget political adversaries either. Better start a damn list. I'll brief my detail, no real information just escalate security. I can bring in more agents if needed."

"Don't worry about that, we don't want to draw attention," Coy said. "I already took care of extra security and started running this with a team back at BK."

"Y'all work fast," Nash said under his breath.

"What about Nora and the kids? Devyn too." Cut was concerned. "I know Dillon can handle herself, but they're not prepared to face this kind of potential danger."

"I'll loop Dill in when we're done here," Ransom said. "Let's keep her near Nora, Dev, and the kids for now. They tend to break off together anyway, so it won't feel out of the ordinary."

"And nobody leaves the property. Not alone anyway. Not even you two." Coy pointed between Cut and Nash.

"It's getting close to the baby coming so Nora has more frequent appointments. I can go with her to those and it won't seem unusual to her. But the kids have preschool, dance, karate, and whatever else Nora has them signed up for. And if I offer to go shopping for nursing bras with her, she's going to know something's up. It's going to seem really odd if suddenly I'm going to everything and no longer ranching."

"Dillon. She can handle those outings. The doting aunt who just wants time with her niece and nephews and happens to have secret service in tow because, despite how much she hates the role, she is the First Lady."

"Perfect. If for any reason Dev takes off and Dillon isn't around, we'll have to put a tail on her. Can you handle that, Ran, or will that leave your detail too light?" Coy asked.

"I can handle it, assuming you have a few extra firearms and ammo that I can keep on me. As President, I'm not supposed to carry, but desperate times… And you know I can handle myself. It'll be like old times."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, but best to be prepared."

"We're not going to be able to keep them in the dark forever," Cutler said, "I don't like keeping things from Nora. I also don't want to worry her, not now, not when she's so close to having this baby."

"We'll loop them in when we have something to tell them," Coy added. "There are just too many unknowns, and we'd likely add more worry than necessary. When we start narrowing this thing down, everyone is in the loop. I already have extra help en route. They'll work on finding out whatever they can on the remains and anything else we might need and it'll all be under the radar. You see a chopper fly over, it's them. Pay it no attention. Easy in and out that way."

"Should I turn off the trail cams?" Cut asked.

"Nah. They can skate around them fairly easily with jammers. They'll never be detected," Coy replied.

"Never detected? I don't feel as safe with those cams as I did five minutes ago." Nash nervously chuckled. "You sure we shouldn't just get the sheriff here on this?"

"You sure you even want to ask that?" Coy snorted. "‘Oh gee, I plowed up my brother's illegal pot farm and found human remains underneath, sheriff. What do we do?' The first thing they'll do is put you in cuffs and take you in for questioning. Then, the rest of us."

Coy turned to Nash. "What do you know about the people you were in business with over those plants? We need to find out everything we can and quick."

"Oh no." Nash began to pace. "You think that's what this is? That I brought this here?"

"Well, what do you know? Were they ever here? What do you know about them, Nash, but more importantly, what do they know about us?"

"Shit. Okay. Uh, I don't really know anything other than they aren't from here. Met them at the bar…"

"Oh great, so you did a drug deal with strangers in a bar who were just passing through," Cut fumed.

"It wasn't like that. I know they aren't from around here, but they'd been coming in just about every weekend. They play darts, pool, and chat with just about everyone. Friendly even. Not the murder-people-and-hide-bodies-on-random-properties-under-our-pot-plants type," Nash said. "They're just some young surfer types. They said they were looking for property to lease and it sort of went from there…"

"Names?" Coy asked as he tapped away at his phone screen.

Nash looked everywhere but at his brothers. "Names?"

Coy's jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. "You don't know their names? How do you contact them?"

"Contact? I… uh…"

"Damn it, Nash. Are you serious? No names, no contact… How were you supposed to make this deal?" Coy asked. "Back to your question about bringing in the sheriff… They're going to want a list of names of these people and when you come up with nothing, it all lands on you, brother."

"Oh shit."

"Yeah. Major shit," Coy fired back. "Start talkin'."

"I'd see them at the bar and let them know when the plants were ready, they'd… come get them."

"Do you even know how to tell when a plant's ready?" Cut asked.

"Not exactly, but I thought I'd, you know, look it up or something. Maybe show them progress pictures." Nash shrugged. "I don't know, it's not like I have experience with this."

Cut tossed his hands in the air. "Progress pictures? C'mon Nash. My wife takes a profile picture of her pregnant belly every week, on the same day, like clockwork. That's a progress picture. You… You're just…"

"C'mon. Don't hold back, Cut. Say it. Say I'm the screw-up. Nash is always fucking shit up. Can't get his life together. Say it."

Cut stared at Nash, took a deep breath, and let out a deep sigh as his shoulders dropped. "I'm afraid, baby brother. This time you really did fuck shit up. My family lives here, man. My children. My pregnant wife. Didn't you think of that?"

"Oh gee. No. Not at all, Cutler, because I was too busy thinking of myself trying to find ways to save this farm, and fast, not because our Mama was dyin' or because those babies need a roof over their heads…" Nash's words were dripping in sarcasm and what sounded like resentment. "It was simply for shits and giggles. All for me, because heaven forbid I lose that crawl space of an apartment above the tractor barn or my fancy job shovelin' cow shit and plowin' fields. All for me, brother. That's all I was thinkin' about, because who doesn't want to learn to grow weed for strangers to make a buck?"

Ransom laid a hand on his shoulder. "Nash…"

Nash quickly shrugged it off. "It's fine Ran. I got it. I know my place in this family. Always have. Just glad to know my reputation and the disappointment haven't wavered. I'd hate to be inconsistent. You know, maybe I could've taken my time and come up with a better solution, got a second, or third job to bring in some money. But my time was pretty tied up takin' care of Mama because everyone else around here has their heads so far up their own asses they couldn't be bothered to notice that she was dyin'."

Nash turned on his heels but he was met with a visitor.

"Oh good. You're all still here," came a familiar woman's voice, and the men all turned. "I was hoping none of you'd left town."

The men began to move in closer, shoulder-to-shoulder, to protect their secret.

"I thought I'd drop by, pay my respects," she said, studying each of them. "I tried to make Lilah's service, but a truck versus cow over on Highway 20 kept me busy."

Coy grinned. "Who won?"

"Excuse me?" She smirked.

Coy snickered. "Cow or truck?"

"Do you even need to ask or have you been gone that long?" She laughed. "Cow. Always. Good to see you, Coy."

"You as well, Sheriff."

"Delilah Stone was a pillar of this community and one of the best women I've ever had the privilege of knowing. She'll be greatly missed around here. My condolences to the family."

"Thank you, Sheriff," Cut said and nudged Nash.

"Yeah, thank you… kindly… Sheriff."

Ransom extended his hand. "I don't believe we've met."

"My apologies." Coy tossed up his hands. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you two hadn't met. Ran, this is Sheriff Kenzie Stoddard. Kenz?—"

"Gray," she corrected. "Kenzie Gray."

"My apologies again," Coy continued. "Sheriff Kenzie Gray, this is Ransom Wyatt."

"Kenzie. I know the name. You're my wife's childhood best friend if I'm not mistaken. It's an absolute pleasure to meet you and have a face for the name now."

"You'd be correct, Your Highness, and truly, the pleasure… is all… mine," she said full of snark and disdain.

The three brothers tried to withhold their amusement but they were sadly unsuccessful. Nobody addressed Ransom in such a manner, not that they'd witness anyway. It took a lot of gall and confidence to talk to the leader of the free world in such a manner, but then, that was Kenzie.

"Your… Highness?" Ransom questioned. "Most people call me Mr. President, Prez, or just asshole. I prefer Ran, but to each their own."

Kenzie forced a smile and nodded. "I bet they do call you that… Ran."

"Nothing royal about me," he went on.

"Oh, I'm sure there's something royal… about you. I mean, you did clog up our small municipal airport and manage to throw yourself a parade through town."

"I believe you mean motorcade through town. And, well, landing that big jet they make me use in some rancher's field wouldn't be a good look, or friendly. Perhaps even rude."

"Sounds like you thought about it, though."

"Wow." Nash snorted.

Cut leaned into Ran and said quietly, "Now you know why she's Dillon's best friend."

Ransom slowly nodded, eyes still on Kenzie, summing her up. "I'm starting to see it."

"Dilly and I were like two peas in a pod, even finished each other's sentences, yet…" She waved her finger in front of Ransom. "I don't get this. I guess it's true what they say, people change."

"You didn't vote for me, did you?" Ransom joked.

"Not a chance," Kenzie said with a laugh.

"May I ask why? Perhaps it will help me understand why you're so… friendly."

"Well, that's easy. I'm not swayed by the charm, and maybe if you did more for vets, especially being a veteran yourself, I would've considered checking the box next to your name."

With a slow nod, Ransom took his time responding, unsure what to say to such boldness. "Noted. That's one of the most important issues, yet one of the most stonewalled and hard to move forward. It hasn't been without effort on my part."

"Well, isn't that nice? Maybe you'll be the change guy after all."

"I'll do my best, Mrs. Gray, and let you know."

"It's Ms.," she said.

"I stand corrected… Again."

Coy interrupted the exchange before it became any more uncomfortable or unbearable to watch. "Glad to see you haven't changed one bit, Kenz."

"Yeah, well… I just wanted to stop by and offer my condolences."

Nash smiled wide at the hint that she was about to leave. "Always good seeing you, Sheriff. We'll have to have you over for dinner while everyone's in town. Like old times."

Kenzie matched his mega-watt smile. "Sounds great –– then maybe you can tell me who your dead friend is lying on the ground behind you."