The Black Sheep and the Princess by Donna Kauffman Page A

time.
    Mac answered first. “Not much, other than an attempted buyout had been made. And that there had been reports of vandalism on the property. Did you report that to the sheriff’s office?”
    â€œYes.” For all the good it had done. Gilby had assured her it was nothing but some local delinquents. Except Ralston, the nearest town to Winnimocca, was still almost an hour away. She had no “locals.” She’d gotten up this morning and called his office, only to be brushed off again. So she’d decided to head down and park herself in front of Gilby himself until he agreed to send someone out again to look at the new damage.
    â€œDid you file a report?”
    â€œFor what it was worth, yes.”
    â€œWhat’s been done?”
    She debated telling him. She still didn’t know why he was really here. But a trip to see Gilby would give him the same information. “They sent someone out, but he essentially patted me on the shoulder and told me not to worry my pretty little head about it, that it was just some kids having a laugh at my expense. He said if I actually saw anybody and could give a description, or saw a vehicle on the property that I could get plate information off of, he’d be happy to follow up on that. Otherwise, it was a matter for me to take up with my insurance company.”
    â€œBut he didn’t happen to mention that anyone else’s property was being vandalized in the area.” Mac made it a statement.
    She shook her head. “No. And I sort of thought ‘Go Home, Rich Bitch’ was pretty personal, but they didn’t seem to share my concern.”
    â€œIs the sheriff aware of the particulars in terms of ownership of the property?”
    She glanced over at him, her wariness returning. “I don’t know why he would be. Through me filing the report, he knows I’ve come back to rebuild here and open a camp. But I’ve also been making calls to some of the construction businesses in Ralston, trying to line up estimates.” Not that she’d been all that successful on that front either. She’d chalked it up to the old-fashioned mentality of most of the guys she’d talked to, who didn’t want to deal with a woman. They’d find out she was more determined than they were narrow-minded. She figured as soon as she hired one crew, and they realized she was serious and could pay them, the rest would come calling. “Ralston is a small town, word travels, so I’m sure it’s no secret around the whole county that I’m here and planning to reopen the camp. I assume they all believe I’m the owner, and I let them believe that. It’s merely a formality anyway.”
    â€œWhen does it become official?”
    She faltered. “I—I’m not sure.”
    There was a brief pause; then he asked, “Where were you yesterday?” When she looked at him warily, he lifted his shoulders. “You were wearing a nice suit when I saw you last night, carrying a briefcase. I don’t imagine there’s much need for that in Ralston.”
    â€œI was in the city for meetings pertaining to the property. But…it’s not finalized yet.”
    She waited for him to poke and prod further, but he switched tactics. “I’m just trying to follow the same path the reporter did who put the article together. So far, their sources would—or could—include Shelby and the sheriff.”
    â€œOr possibly anyone in Ralston. For all I know the vandalism is common knowledge.”
    â€œIs the Sentinel still up and running?” Donovan was referring to the paper that was based in Ralston, but pretty much served everyone on this side of the county.
    â€œYes. I used it when I started compiling names and businesses to call.”
    â€œDid they run a story on the vandalism?”
    â€œNo. I mean, not that I know of. No one contacted me. It might have been mentioned in the little