Page 89 of Savage Rancher
“Stay here.” I'm already moving toward the stairs. "I’ll talk to Deputy Garrett."
"Jake—" Mason starts.
“I’ll come with you.” Luke stands, his mouth quirked.
“Oh boy,” Mason mutters, giving me a look.
Shaking my head, I head out to meet Harper, Luke following close behind.
I emerge from the barn and cross the yard, running threat assessments. Harper Garrett is Emma's best friend, but she's also a deputy. She's also the sheriff's daughter—the same sheriff who's been circling me all my life.
Harper's standing beside her cruiser, arms crossed, watching me approach. She's not in uniform—jeans, boots, a flannel jacket. Off duty. That's either good or very bad.
"Callahan." Her voice is steady, but I catch the tension in her shoulders.
"Deputy Garrett." I stop ten feet away, keeping my hands visible. Non-threatening. "Emma's inside if you're looking for her."
"I'm not here for Emma." Harper's gaze flicks to Luke.
Smiling slowly, he sticks his hands in his pockets. “Does that mean you’re here for me, Officer Hot Stuff?”
Her gaze narrows at him before she faces me again. "I'm here for you."
I flex my hands, but I keep my expression neutral. "That so?"
"Yeah." She takes a breath, and I see something shift in her expression—not hostility. Something else. Something that looks like worry. "We need to talk about Robert Hayes."
Emma’s father? I study her. "What about him?"
Harper glances at Luke, then back at me. "Can we do this somewhere private?"
Luke chuckles. “Honey, he doesn’t do private, but for you I will.”
I shoot Luke a warning. "I have no secrets with my brothers. Say what you came to say."
She nods, like she expected that answer. "Robert Hayes died in a car accident four weeks ago. Single-vehicle collision on Route 47, just past the turnoff to Turner land. His truck went off the road, rolled three times, and ended up in a ravine."
I know all this. We have the report. But I let Harper talk.
"The official report says his brakes went out and he lost control on a curve. No evidence of foul play. No witnesses. Just”—she makes a motion with her hand—"a tragic accident."
"But you don't think it was an accident."
Harper's eyes meet mine, and there's something fierce in them. "No. I don't."
"Why?"
"Because Bob Hayes was anal about keeping his vehicles maintained. He knew every curve, every pothole, every goddamn rock on that road. He didn't justlose control." Her voice hardens. "And because two days before he died, he came to see my father."
That gets my attention. "Sheriff Garrett?"
"Yeah." Harper's hands curl into fists at her sides. "Mr. Hayes brought him a file, evidence he'd been collecting on the Turner family—illegal grazing, water theft, intimidation tactics. He said he had more. He said he was close to something big, something that would put Eli Turner away for good."
I straighten, focused. "What happened to the file?"
"My dad opened an investigation, quiet and off the books. He didn't want to spook the Turners before he had enough to make charges stick." Harper glances at the house. "Then Mr. Hayes died. Dad said there wasn’t anything that’d stand up against the Turners, and the inquest into Mr. Hayes’s accident didn’t reap anything."
I glance at Luke. He’s staring at Harper. I can’t tell if he’s analyzing what she’s saying or stripping her naked in his mind. With Riot, it’s a toss-up.
