Stars & Stripes by Abigail Roux Page A

fighting the urge to yank his tie off and use it to wipe away the sweat running down the center of his back. The old A/C unit in the window of the trailer wasn’t doing anything to fend off the summer temperatures of Texas.
    The sheriff cocked his head, and Zane leaned forward to speak in lower tones. “Harrison Garrett is my father. I’m not here in any official capacity; I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on.”
    “You’re one of those Garretts?” the sheriff asked, and Zane could see the man’s defenses lowering.
    “That’s right.”
    Zane produced his identification again. The sheriff gave it another once over, taking his time with it. He nodded and held up a thin file, then set it in front of Zane. “That’s all I got to give you.”
    Zane paged through the file, distraught by the lack of information.
    “I can save you some time.”
    Zane glanced up at him and nodded.
    “This is the fifth time your daddy’s found evidence of trespassers on the ranch. Same place every time. We don’t know what they’re doing, or why they’re doing it. There’s nothing out there.”
    “Why do you think the encounter was violent this time and not ever before?” Zane asked. He pushed the file into his laptop case.
    “Well, this was the first time he’d caught them in action. Before, it was always after the fact. Harrison came across them, challenged them, and they fired at him. He was hit, but managed to get away. Tied himself to the saddle in case he passed out before his horse could make it back to the big house.”
    Zane couldn’t help but smile as he listened to the account. His dad was a hard man. Zane wouldn’t want to meet up with him on the open plains, that was for sure.
    “What about the scene itself?”
    The sheriff winced. “Not much to it. Two days from everything. Ground’s been baked harder than cement. Summer rain washed away what was left. I got some good trackers here, but there was nothing to find.”
    Zane nodded. He knew a pretty good tracker himself. Maybe he could convince his boss to allow Ty to come out here and help him.
    He kind of doubted it.
    “And there’s nothing local going on? Nothing your guys have caught wind of?”
    “Couple brawls between the ranch hands at the establishments. Couple boys with more money than they should have. Their names are in that file, but it’s nothing a little backdoor gambling won’t explain.”
    Zane thanked the sheriff, shaking his hand before retreating from the stifling trailer and into the open air. The sun was blazing down, making the blacktop appear to waver. But it felt cooler out here than it had in there. He hurried to the truck, one of the ranch’s fleet, and fumbled to get the engine running before he burst into flames.
    He sat in the cab, waiting for the air to kick in and ruminating over what he’d just learned. There was no rhyme or reason to it. He’d looked at a map of the area where his dad had encountered the trespassers, and it was near nothing but an old pump house. The underground river that had once fed the spring had long since changed its course, making the area just another barren corner of the massive ranch that served no purpose but as a riding trail for visitors.
    Zane got the truck moving, heading back to the ranch and the guesthouse he had claimed as his while there. After a shower to wipe away the dust and massive, massive amounts of dried sweat, he settled at the kitchen table and pulled out his cell phone to check the time. Nine at night—still early enough to phone Ty without waking him.
    He hadn’t been diligent with keeping in touch, and Ty had sent text messages to check on him rather than risk calling at an inopportune time.
    Zane found that he couldn’t wait to hear Ty’s rumbling, easy voice in his ear. He’d been in Texas three days, and he was starting to feel almost homesick. He couldn’t recall feeling like that before, even as a child.
    For the first time, he had a home he actually