“Yeah, we need to get that ride hidden right the fuck now. What about the trailer? Is it still in your barn?”
“It’s inside. I’ll get the truck hidden as soon as I get off the horn,” I say, already feeling better with Faulk’s FBI brains moving at light speed.
“Cool, after I check in with Ridge, I’ll make some other calls. I’ll keep you posted on whatever I find out about these Foss people and the crooked conservation officer. Whatever you do, keep the tiger thief and her ferocious buddy out of sight.” He pauses. “By the way, where’s Sawyer and Avery?”
“Summer camp. Damn good timing on my part.”
“I’ll say!” He lets out a happy sigh. “Man, I probably don’t need to tell you, but this is some serious crap, Grady. We’re talking devil dealing black-market runners doing things to critters you don’t even want to know.”
Yeah, exactly what I’ve been afraid of.
“I’ll be in touch soon,” Faulk says.
“Thanks for reminding me what friends are for. Drinks are on the house for the next year if you help save my ass.”
“Nah, you know my money’s good, Grady. And after what you did for me...what are brothers for?”
I smile and click off, agreeing with that more than ever.
My friends are like extended family, all of us baptized by the fires that love to visit this little town.
My gaze lingers on the barn and I exhale slowly.
Faulk didn’t need to drop that warning, but I read more into it than he’d said.
If his instincts are right, Willow and her tiger are in grave danger.
I call Weston to give him the latest. He’s already taken the liberty of towing her truck to his place and guarantees he’ll park it deep in the shed he uses for demo derby stuff.
Perfect.
He also assures me nobody else is gonna know about it, much less come sneaking around his property.
I’ve barely hung up when Ridge calls and tells me to expect a vet before noon, and a massive delivery of carved up meat by tomorrow morning. I thank him and appreciate the way he doesn’t probe deeper. Not that I’d have expected it.
Right now, I’m feeling damn lucky I’d hauled home an extra deep freezer from the Bobcat when I bought a newer model for the bar’s kitchen. It’s still in good shape and purrs like a champ.
I head off to plug it in so it can cool down and tell Willow she’s not going anywhere.
Not for a few days at least.
She’s in the barn, sitting on one of the short walls of stalls that Dad used for birthing sows way back in the day. I nod at her, then enter the storage room and plug in the freezer.
It’s a good-sized room but feels small when I turn and see her in the doorway.
“Grady, look...I truly am sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean to storm off after what you’ve done for me, and I never meant for you to get caught up in all of this. I’m just...stressed isn’t even the word.”
The sorrow on her face could convince any jury.
“Kitten, I know.” I gesture to a wooden bench along the wall. We’ll ignore that spontaneous kitten falling out of my mouth. “Take a seat. We need to talk.”
She does.
Then I lean back against the freezer, keeping as much space between us as possible. For some mysterious and worrisome reason, I want to give her a hug, let her know it’s not her fault.
I’m also smart enough to know where that leads, though, so I keep my grubby paws to myself.
“How’s Bruce holding up?” I ask.
“Fine. He’s as content as ever.” Her face softens as she shakes her head. “He really is a gentle giant, a born sweetheart. I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone murdering him for his parts. I only had one chance to stop it from happening. Take him and run.”
“You’re totally sure that’s the dirty dealing going on in Minot? Black-market tiger stuff?” Redundant or not, I need to confirm.
Even a little detail or two could mean the world to Faulk’s investigation.
“I am. And it’s not just tigers.” She sighs, pushing her face in her palms. “The big cats are just worth the most. Everything I witnessed was for show—not for the good of the animals—and that’s why I questioned so many things from the start.” She leans against the wall, arms crossed. “I had a gut feeling right away, but...” Sighing, she adds, “But I didn’t act. I didn’t turn them in quick enough to the right person.”
“That’s gonna change real fast. The friend I called was an FBI agent once—”
“No! Grady—”
“Hold up, honey, don’t jump to conclusions. I said was. He’s more like a retired private eye and farmer now, and he’s damn sure on our side. Another buddy of mine is sending a vet out here to look at Bruce’s paw and get some fresh beef to feed him. I talked to Weston again, too, and he’s busy towing your truck to his shop and will keep it hidden.”