Hunter Moon. Jenna Kernan

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      Tessay moved closer to Clyne, making Izzie the lone woman in a circle of men. She always had been, he realized, as a rancher and before that with her two brothers and father. But Clay noticed they’d closed Izzie out. He stepped back, and she wedged in beside him.

      “Nope,” said Gabe, his posture relaxed. “Just starting the investigation.”

      If he was stressed by the late hour or the presence of his superiors from the tribal council, he gave no sign and instead only radiated confidence and authority. Clay admired that. Gabe was a keen observer of everything, and he was very good at noticing inconsistencies. Perhaps that was why he went into law enforcement. Or it could have been to make up for their father. That was a tough legacy.

      Gabe hitched a thumb in his utility belt, as comfortable with his sidearm as Clay was uncomfortable with one.

      “We got shots fired, cut fences, repaired fences intended, I believe, to give the illusion of an intact fence. We’ve also got three dead cows with no sign of predation.”

      “Disease?” asked Tessay.

      “Vets will tell us that. They’re en route.”

      Pizarro and Donner exchanged looks.

      “Where’s Soto?” asked Pizarro. “He should be here.”

      “On his way,” said Gabe, failing to be sidetracked. “Either of you have any idea why this area has been improved?” Gabe directed his attention to his brother Clyne and Arnold Tessay. As tribal leaders, they were the logical ones to ask.

      “Not me,” said Clyne.

      Tessay hesitated and then shook his head. “Don’t know.”

      “Looks like a pretty nice level area. Not sure why it’s here,” said Gabe.

      His comment went without reply from any of those gathered, but Izzie was shifting from side to side. Did she know more than she had told him? Clay watched Gabe’s attention flick to Izzie, and Clay resisted the urge to still her nervous motion.

      “We need to quarantine Nosie’s herd,” said Pizarro.

      “I don’t want to get folks all in a tizzy over nothing,” said Tessay.

      “We don’t know what killed those cows, yet,” said Gabe. “But better safe than sorry.”

      Donner looked to Clay. “Pick them up in the morning. I’ve got no budget for overtime.”

      “You can’t just take my cows,” said Izzie, but her voice lacked confidence, for she surely knew that they could and would do just that. Keeping all cattle certified and disease free was essential to their survival.

      Clyne rested a hand on Izzie’s shoulder. It was a fatherly gesture, and still it raised the hackles on Clay’s neck. He had to resist the urge to shove his brother as if they were still kids. Not that he’d ever won a fight against his eldest brother. Clyne was eight years his senior. Clay thought he might just be able to take him now. Instead he reined himself in.

      “Izzie, we’ll expedite this. I promise. If possible, we’ll get your cows a clean bill of health and get the ones that were impounded returned to you as soon as we can. But you have to help us here.”

      “Councilman,” said Izzie, “my family depends on our herd.”

      “She’s no different than the rest of us in that,” said Tessay, whom Clay recalled had a cow or two pastured in the tribe’s communal herd.

      “She is different,” argued Clay, wondering when he’d suddenly decided to pursue a career in public speaking. “Because she has more cattle than most of the other members of the tribe and because her family has been herding on this land since before they built Pinyon Fort.”

      Gabe was rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort. Clay wondered if he were the one causing that pain. He glanced to Clyne to find him grinning at him like a fool. Izzie gaped at him as if he had just sprouted a crown like one of the mountain spirits.

      Donner grasped Clay’s arm. “Will you excuse us for a minute?”

      Clay had a sinking feeling he was about to get fired as his boss led him out of earshot. Donner stopped them a short distance from the others.

      “That’s my boss you’re dressing down,” he said.

      Clay stared at the ground. Outside of the circle of the headlights, there wasn’t much to see.

      “I’m sorry, sir.”

      “What’s gotten into you? I mean, what does it matter to you, anyway?”

      “Nothing,” Clay admitted. “Izzie is an old friend.”

      Donner snorted. “Friend, huh?”

      Izzie had stopped being his concern long ago. She’d made it very clear that she didn’t want any part of him...until today, or was it yesterday? He glanced at the sky, glittering with stars, and decided from the angle of Orion that it was past midnight. He stretched his shoulders.

      “You working for her?”

      “No. Well, she asked me to read sign.”

      His boss flapped his arms. “It’s called moonlighting, and I can fire you for it. You can’t work for someone else while you’re working for me.”

      “I—I didn’t know,” Clay said.

      Donner made a face. “I believe you, son. But this isn’t just about what’s right and wrong. It’s about the appearance of right and wrong. Appearance is the same as reality.”

      Clay scratched the stubble on his chin. “I’m interested in the truth.”

      “Son, an inspector working for a rancher is a conflict of interest. That didn’t occur to you?”

      It had. In fact he’d warned Izzie that he would not be a part of anything illegal.

      “I just read the signs.”

      “Okay. You read the signs. It’s done. I’m giving you a warning and telling you to stay out of it. She needs help, she can hire your kid brother to track. Anyone on the Rez but you.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “You know I went to school with your father?”

      Clay did know because his uncle Luke had told him when he’d spoken to Donner about hiring Clay. His uncle Luke Forrest was his father’s half brother and so was not a Cosen.

      “And your uncle put in a word for you. So do us both a favor. Keep out of politics. When Tessay or Clyne are talking, you hush up unless you need to say, ‘Yes, sir.’ You got that?”

      “Yes, sir.” He said it without sarcasm but still gleaned a long, hard stare.

      His boss left him standing there and returned to the circle. Clay swiped his hand at the long grass in frustration. Izzie needed his help. But СКАЧАТЬ