doing.”
Jordan watched Santana’s reaction, looking for any hint that Danny might be right about the rancher being in on the crime. Other than a grunt, there was nothing.
“That’s good to know. Fortunately, I haven’t been hit as hard as some of my friends, but that’s only because I now have men patrolling the west pastures at night. Told them to shoot first, ask questions later. Word must have gotten out.”
Jordan shrugged. “I can see where that would be a deterrent.”
“Damn straight.” Lucas leaned closer. “If you ask me, putting a bullet in a few chests would make them think twice, seeing as the organization taking our good money to protect us can’t seem to find their own behinds with both hands.” He glared at Danny. “No offense, but how hard can it be to find a stolen cow at an auction when they’re branded?”
Danny inhaled sharply. “That’s the problem, Mr. Santana. Not everyone is branding their livestock. Without a brand, it’s difficult to find your stolen Elsie when she’sstanding next to someone else’s Sophie. You know what they say—they all look alike after a few beers.” He stopped then added, “No offense taken, by the way.”
Santana puffed out his chest. “No need to get snippy, young man.”
“I’m sorry if I came across that way. I’m just saying if every ranch owner would take the time to brand their herd and register that brand with the department, it would make my job a whole lot easier.”
“Easier, maybe, but you still don’t always get it done. Joe Rosco over at the Starboard Ranch in Ellis County lost ten head last month alone, and every single one of them wore his brand and was registered with TSCRA.”
Danny cleared his throat. “That’s a problem we’re working on. There’s a possibility the stolen animals are being transported across the border. Our agency now has inspection points for every trailer hauling cattle to Mexico.” He held up his hands. “If you have any better suggestions, I’d love to hear them.”
“Just catch the yeller-bellied slime.” Santana looked away when Cooper Harrison tapped his shoulder.
“My crew’s ready to serve lunch, Lucas. They’re waiting on you.”
Santana turned back to Danny. “Maybe you and I will have more time to talk about this now that Jordan will be coming out this way more often.”
Before Jordan could respond, he added, “You’re part of the family now, remember? We have a sit-down dinner every Sunday afternoon, and I expect you here even if it means I have to put a bug in your editor’s ear.” He turned and followed Cooper to the bunkhouse.
“Now that man’s a piece of work. Why he’s attracted to your skinny butt is beyond me.”
Jordan ignored him, still thinking about what Santana had said earlier. “Danny, if it’s as simple as branding the cows, why doesn’t everyone do it?”
“Cattle rustling wasn’t a big problem until the last ten years or so. Many of the smaller ranches are slow to implement branding. In today’s economic downturn, stealing cattle has become the new carjacking.”
“Get out! How much can a cow be worth?”
“You think you know everything. For your information, one cow can bring in as much as a grand or two at auction. Wagyu, a whopping ten to twenty thousand.”
She gasped. “Twenty grand?”
“Some more than that. Ever eaten Kobe beef?”
She tsked. “You know darn well I don’t do steak.”
“Well, if you ever decide to give a big juicy steak a try, Kobe is the way to go.”
“I still don’t get it. What’s so special about Wagyu?”
Danny lifted a cocky eyebrow, apparently loving that he knew something she didn’t. “They’re treated like royalty, pampered more than most humans, with massages, first-class food, and even beer.”
She laughed. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“Nope. All that coddling makes their flesh highly marbleized with interspersed flecks of fat. Marbling so subtle it bastes a steak in its own
Jordan watched Santana’s reaction, looking for any hint that Danny might be right about the rancher being in on the crime. Other than a grunt, there was nothing.
“That’s good to know. Fortunately, I haven’t been hit as hard as some of my friends, but that’s only because I now have men patrolling the west pastures at night. Told them to shoot first, ask questions later. Word must have gotten out.”
Jordan shrugged. “I can see where that would be a deterrent.”
“Damn straight.” Lucas leaned closer. “If you ask me, putting a bullet in a few chests would make them think twice, seeing as the organization taking our good money to protect us can’t seem to find their own behinds with both hands.” He glared at Danny. “No offense, but how hard can it be to find a stolen cow at an auction when they’re branded?”
Danny inhaled sharply. “That’s the problem, Mr. Santana. Not everyone is branding their livestock. Without a brand, it’s difficult to find your stolen Elsie when she’sstanding next to someone else’s Sophie. You know what they say—they all look alike after a few beers.” He stopped then added, “No offense taken, by the way.”
Santana puffed out his chest. “No need to get snippy, young man.”
“I’m sorry if I came across that way. I’m just saying if every ranch owner would take the time to brand their herd and register that brand with the department, it would make my job a whole lot easier.”
“Easier, maybe, but you still don’t always get it done. Joe Rosco over at the Starboard Ranch in Ellis County lost ten head last month alone, and every single one of them wore his brand and was registered with TSCRA.”
Danny cleared his throat. “That’s a problem we’re working on. There’s a possibility the stolen animals are being transported across the border. Our agency now has inspection points for every trailer hauling cattle to Mexico.” He held up his hands. “If you have any better suggestions, I’d love to hear them.”
“Just catch the yeller-bellied slime.” Santana looked away when Cooper Harrison tapped his shoulder.
“My crew’s ready to serve lunch, Lucas. They’re waiting on you.”
Santana turned back to Danny. “Maybe you and I will have more time to talk about this now that Jordan will be coming out this way more often.”
Before Jordan could respond, he added, “You’re part of the family now, remember? We have a sit-down dinner every Sunday afternoon, and I expect you here even if it means I have to put a bug in your editor’s ear.” He turned and followed Cooper to the bunkhouse.
“Now that man’s a piece of work. Why he’s attracted to your skinny butt is beyond me.”
Jordan ignored him, still thinking about what Santana had said earlier. “Danny, if it’s as simple as branding the cows, why doesn’t everyone do it?”
“Cattle rustling wasn’t a big problem until the last ten years or so. Many of the smaller ranches are slow to implement branding. In today’s economic downturn, stealing cattle has become the new carjacking.”
“Get out! How much can a cow be worth?”
“You think you know everything. For your information, one cow can bring in as much as a grand or two at auction. Wagyu, a whopping ten to twenty thousand.”
She gasped. “Twenty grand?”
“Some more than that. Ever eaten Kobe beef?”
She tsked. “You know darn well I don’t do steak.”
“Well, if you ever decide to give a big juicy steak a try, Kobe is the way to go.”
“I still don’t get it. What’s so special about Wagyu?”
Danny lifted a cocky eyebrow, apparently loving that he knew something she didn’t. “They’re treated like royalty, pampered more than most humans, with massages, first-class food, and even beer.”
She laughed. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“Nope. All that coddling makes their flesh highly marbleized with interspersed flecks of fat. Marbling so subtle it bastes a steak in its own
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