Cori found Deke at his insurance office. She'd dressed the part of innocent newcomer by wearing a flowy floral skirt made of different patchwork fabrics, a solid T-shirt, a jean jacket, her cowboy boots, and paired everything with a confused expression. She'd gotten to be a master of controlling her features while living in Brewster.

She was undeniably nervous. Insurance and those that sold it were a trigger for her. Her father had sold insurance before getting elected mayor. Good old Charlie Walters had used the guise of “he's got your back” to woo the hard working, gullible people of Brewster to spend their money with him. It was after he'd been elected mayor that he continued to sell insurance and use their trust against them. He passed laws with buried restrictions that would require ranchers to buy insurance they didn't need, or didn't exist, or else they paid a fat tax. Sometimes the tax was confiscating portions of their herd.

Prior to entering the building, she pushed back her shoulders. Once inside, she was instantly confused by the setup of his office. Instead of a large secluded space in the back of the building, Deke's desk, a worn, ratty piece of furniture from the sixties, was in the main room. Even more confusing was that his secretary sat across from him. She hadn’t expected him to share space with the help. Her father's office had been grand, his secretary far away with walls between them. She supposed if her father had Deke's setup, he might not have gotten away with what he did for as long as he did.

“Hey,” Cori said as she set her camera bag on the corner of his desk.

“Well, if it isn't the future Mrs. Besingame. Sure you wanna do that? It’s an awful last name.” His smile was smooth, like melted butter on a pancake.

Cori's stomach growled. “Excuse me,” she said and made a mock grimace. “It's not so bad, Fort's last name.” It felt disloyal to tell Deke she called him Fort Be-so-lame.

“What can I do for you? I don't have much for food, but I do have some of these great snickerdoodles Mrs. Williams makes for me.” He produced a tin of cookies from his desk and offered her one.

As hungry as she was, she did not do snickerdoodles. They reminded her of dear old dad. They were his favorite. “I'm on my way over to the diner for some lunch. I popped in because I'm the current photographer for The Critten County Rambler, and we'd like to get a picture for the paper to use for election articles. If you have a head shot you prefer to use, we can do that instead.”

Deke stood. “Nope, I want you to take the picture. I'll go to the diner with you. Gives us a chance to get to know each other.” He turned to his secretary, an older woman Cori had seen before. “Mrs. Williams, I trust you to hold down the fort.”

Cori went through her mental Rolodex, trying to place how she knew the name aside from the cookies. Mrs. Williams had made Fort's banana bread. She'd eaten half of the loaf last night. Unbidden images of their make-out session flashed through her mind. Her body heat rose as she recalled all the places he had touched.

Her nipples puckered.

Crap.

She blew out a slow breath. Time for a distraction. “This is a cozy office,” she said. “I expected a big office in the back.”

Deke was shaking his head. “I like to be where people can reach me. They have to know their insurance man is there for them. Just like I'll be when I'm their sheriff.” He stepped around his desk and gestured for Cori to precede him.

Bile rose in her throat. Deke was just like her dad, and it was going to give her great pleasure to bring him down. Oh, yeah! Any fallout would be worth it.

He reached for her camera bag, but she shifted it to the other shoulder. “I got it. But thanks. So, where's Conway? Maybe I could get a picture of the two of you. The ones I took at the airport were out of focus and, I'm embarrassed to say, poorly done.”

“Conway likes to stay in the background. He's always saying this election is about me. Not him.” The walk to the diner was a slow, easy stroll.

“How did Conway come about being your campaign manager?” She hoped her questions sounded innocent enough, simple curiosity. At worst, she could say she was passing the info along for the article.

“I was in Cody, spent the day at the livestock auctions, and was out with a bunch of other ranchers from various areas. Subject came up and Conway, who was with someone, I'm not sure who to be honest, offered me some free campaign advice. Told me if I had any questions I could call him. I figured your beau would be entering the election and would give me a run for my money so I reached out to Conway and asked if he might be able to help.”

“What does your wife think of him?” She was curious about the woman who would marry a man like Deke. Her vapid, wanna-be-famous mother was the perfect match for Charlie. Who was the perfect match for Deke?

He stopped walking.

When Cori turned to face him, she was confused by the sadness on his face.

“Why do you ask about my wife?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, the corners of his mouth downturned.

“You mentioned your proposal at the airport. I was just curious how she felt about Conway.”

Deke looked across the square, and Cori followed, trying to see what he was looking at. Trying to get into his head. All she saw was the church and attached graveyard, the library, and a quickie-mart.

“My wife, Laura, died five years ago. I think if she was still here, I might not need the help of Conway. She would be all the counsel I'd seek.”

Aw, poop-cicles. Her distrust of him wavered. “I'm so sorry, Deke. I didn't know.”

“How could you? I'm sure my love life isn't something you and Fort talk about. Not the most romantic of pillow talk.” He smiled slightly and nudged her with his shoulder. “What are you gonna do?” he said, appearing to accept there was no changing the hand fate dealt him.

“I'd hug you, but I'm sure that would get back to Fort pretty quick, and that wouldn't go over well. So how about I buy you some pie? Not that I'm saying pie will fix this, but it might make you feel better. Not that you need to feel better, but it’s better than booze, which you can't take back the aftermath of a bender. Not that I know about—”

Deke tossed his head back and laughed. “Cori,” he said. “Stop. I'm not offended in case you thought I might be, but I'll let you buy me that pie so your conscience feels better.” He nodded forward with his head for her to start moving. “Let's go before the crowd gets there.”

Relief washed over her. Last thing she wanted to do was offend someone, especially a guy who was a widower. Two steps later, she reminded herself that Deke was the enemy. He could potentially be the one who was organizing the theft of his neighbor's cows and was planning to use a public office for other nefarious activity. She was here to thwart him, after all.

No matter how nice he seemed.

Cricket was inside the diner and waved Cori over. Her smile fell when she saw Deke step in behind her. She led him to Cricket's table anyway.

“Hey, Deke's joining me for food, and I'm going to get some shots of him. Did you have any questions for him?” Cori asked and slid into the booth.

“I'm not talking to him,” Cricket said and put her hand up to the side of her face in what Cori assumed was an attempt to block out Deke.

Startled, Cori chocked back a laugh. “What? How are you going to interview him?” She slid into the booth, Deke following after her. Something peculiar was going on here, but Cori couldn't place it.

“I sent him an email. Feel free to share anything he says with you. Or better yet, record it.” She handed Cori a menu and smiled like a southern belle with a deep secret.

“Ah...” Cori didn't know what to say, but she was totally curious as to why they weren't talking.

Deke filled in the void. “She hasn't spoken to me for six months. Woman can hold a grudge.” He extended his arm across the back of the booth.

Cricket began to hum.

“Okay, then,” Cori said and looked for the waitress. Sally was working, and she pointedly ignored Cori. “I don’t think we’re gonna get service anytime soon, and I also think it's because of me.”

Cricket tried to flag Sally down, but the waitress wasn't having it. Clearly, she wasn't over Fort bringing Cori to town. Cori faced Deke. “You might want to order for us. Apparently, Sally doesn't speak to me. I'd like the buffalo burger with extra fries and surprise me with the pie.”

He looked at Cricket, who pointed at what she wanted on the menu.

Deke slid from the booth and made his way to the counter, stopping to talk to people along the way. Cori snapped pictures, anxious to look at them later.

“Wanna share why you haven't talked to Deke for half a year?” She kept the camera on Deke.

“It's a long story. One I'd have to be waterboarded to share.”

Cori glanced at her. Her thin pressed lips were no joke. “Noted,” Cori said. “Are you going to be able to eat with him here? I can move.”

“Nope.” She waved her hand like it was no biggie. “I do it all the time.”

Cori wanted to probe further, but Deke returned. Maybe the silence wasn't awkward for them, but it was for Cori. Of course, she wasn't used to it like they were. She'd intended to share a watered-down version of last night with folks in hopes of shining a light on Fort that didn't show what a tight-ass he was. A more carefree side.

“So, last night, Fort played the worst prank on me. I was so mad, though it's kinda funny today.” Cori noticed the two tables closest had stopped talking.

She painted a story of two lovers out enjoying the stars, not ready to end the day, who found themselves by the railroad tracks. She laughed as she imitated Fort's frightened face, telling her the light was a ghost. The chatter in the diner was quieting as more patrons were listening to Cori. She had their rapt attention. Then she bragged at how she beat him back to the truck and made up the part about making him sleep on the couch. The last part earned her an ugly scowl from Sally. She had the room laughing when she told them the size of the couch and how his legs hung over the arm to nearly touch the floor.

She let the story float around the room for a few minutes before broaching her next topic. “It was nice to see him relax. Aside from the election”—she elbowed Deke good-naturedly—“his family has had some cattle go missing. One here. Another there. It's weird and”—she lowered her voice—“kinda spooky. Where I'm from, there's usually a sign of what happened. Fort says there's nothing. Not one clue.”

“Don't I know it,” Mr. Phillips said. “I have my suspicions.”

Cori looked at Cricket who mouthed “aliens.”

“Recently?” asked Cori.

“Another went missing last night,” he said. “Poof. Gone.” He did his hands in a dramatic mock explosion.

Deke squirmed beside her. “Listen, I have to go. Thanks for the pie, Cori.” He turned to the rancher. “I'm sure there's a logical explanation, Mr. Phillips.” He tossed down a twenty and was gone before Cori could protest.

“The Williams had it happen, too,” said Sally to the crowd.

Others were chiming in with their thoughts. A few of the ranchers left, plates barely touched, likely heading out to check their herds. Cori turned to Cricket with a brow raised. “What do you think?”

“I think something in Wolf Creek stinks, and we've got us a story.”

“I would agree.” Cori glanced at her watch. “I'm gonna head over to the sheriff's office and try to catch Fort before he starts his shift.” She hung her camera bag across her body, messenger style. “You need me anywhere soon?”

Cricket pursed her lips in thought. “Nope. Pop over and give me those photos when you get the chance.”

“Done,” Cori said. As she left the diner, a few people called out their goodbyes to her. Here only a few days, and she'd smiled more than she had in the last ten years. Wolf Creek was more home than where she grew up. Cori exited the diner and stood in the shadow of the door, biting her lip. She would not get attached to Wolf Creek and its people. She reminded herself that she could have this nearly anywhere. It just meant starting over, and doing so wouldn't be all that awful. She was about to step out of the shadows when she caught Deke stalking across the town square toward his office. Left behind in the parking space in front of the church was Conway Witty. He was leaning against the door of a pickup truck talking to someone. Cori couldn't make out whom. Moving swiftly, she fit her camera with a high-powered lens made for long distance shots. She brought it to her face, finger depressing the shutter, hoping to get an image before the opportunity was gone.

She knew the shots weren't likely to be in perfect focus. Sometimes a person could miss a shot and sometimes they got lucky and snagged the perfect one. The man in the truck leaned farther out the window, and Cori got the shot she needed. When she saw him up close through the lens, she gasped. She captured some more then quickly tucked everything away. She tugged a sun hat from her bag and placed it on her head at an angle, hoping to hide her face. She shuffled from the diner toward the sheriff's department, head down and away from Witty and the man. She reached the sheriff's office as Fort was walking in.

“What's up short stuff? What's with the hat?”

She snagged him by the elbow and dragged him into the office. Once inside, she removed the hat and moved away from the windows. “I have lots to tell you. First, Mr. Phillips had another cow disappear last night. Said it vanished without a trace.”

Separating the offices from the waiting room was a waist-high wall and swinging door. Fort sat on the edge of the wall and stretched his long legs out in front of him, crossing his feet at the ankle. He looked delicious in his uniform, all strong and capable, like an alpha hero waiting to come in and save the day. Her mind got off track as she pictured being swept up and carried in his arms, fireman style would work, too, to a remote field where he'd lay her down, slowly work on her buttons and...

“Cori, where'd you go?” Fort was snapping his fingers in her face.

She coughed then cleared her throat. “Sorry, was trying to recall if any other ranchers said anything.” She fanned herself. “Is it hot in here or is it me?”

“It's seventy degrees in here.” His lips twitched, leaving her wondering if he could read her mind.

“Hm, must be all the food I ate.” She sat down in one of the waiting room’s plastic chairs and set her camera bag in front of her. “After I mentioned the Mystery of the Missing Cattle, a few ranchers hustled out of there. I don't know who they are.”

“If they find heads missing, they'll probably report it now that they know it's happening to everyone. It's a small community, but it’s amazing what people don't say. How'd it go with Deke?”

Cori groaned. “I don't think I can be unbiased where he is concerned. I think he's up to something.” She told him about his behavior when they started talking about the missing cattle and how she'd seen him storming across the square minutes ago. “But that's not all. I got some shots of a stranger. Witty was talking to this person, and I'm guessing Deke was, too.” She lifted her camera and turned on the screen, then scrolled through the pictures.

“This guy look familiar to you?”

Fort took the camera and studied the image. She liked how he took his time. That he wasn't impulsive…much. He'd been rash about bringing her here, but she liked to think it was working out for him.

Fort leaned closer to the image. “Can't say that he does. He look familiar to you?”

Cori blew out a breath, lunch sitting in her stomach like concrete block.

“You okay? You look kinda pale.” He pushed from the wall and came to squat before her. After setting her camera aside, he pressed his palm to her forehead. “You're sweaty. Here, tuck your head between your legs”

She did as he said. She had to tell him. “I don't know the guy's name, but I've seen him before,” she said as she stared at the under seat of her chair at a large pink blob. “Someone stuck gum under here."

“Who's the guy, Cori?”

Feeling much like that blob of gum, chewed up and left in the dark, forgotten, she said, “He used to come around my dad. I think they did some work together, and by work, I mean cons.”