started toward the cattle, then turned Bullet and rode by the chickens.
Free-range chickens were held in by a perimeter fence that kept them from disappearing toward Oklahoma and protected them from predators. Coops traveled with them and as the sun set, the chickens bedded down for the night. He’d talked to Arturo and had discovered that Erin was right. The damn chickens were fed a coconut-based feed. All they needed was a little Reggae music and they could be on vacation.
But he’d grown used to seeing them on the land and he had to admit they left behind an effective fertilizer. Going organic had meant contracting with local farmers for certified feed. It was good business all around.
He stared at the land that stretched to the horizon. Now that he was back he wondered how he’d stayed away for those many years. Why hadn’t he missed the Texas sky-bigger here than anywhere in the world? Why hadn’t he wanted to ride by the herd, work the cattle dogs, eat Fidela’s enchiladas and play chess with Arturo? He’d stayed away so long, he’d forgotten what home was like. Now that he was back he could see-
A dark shape moved across the open field, staying low and heading directly for the fence around the chickens. Mitch urged Bullet forward. He’d just checked the fencing a few days before. Was there a hole in it already?
He saw the opening seconds before the coyote dove for it. Without thinking, he reached for his shotgun, aimed and fired. The sound echoed in the night.
Inside their coops, the chickens began to shriek. The coyote, frightened but unharmed, raced in the opposite direction.
“Next time I won’t fire a warning shot,” Mitch yelled after it. The coyote didn’t slow.
He slid off Bullet and walked toward the hole in the fence. The entire structure was moved every few days as the chickens ate the grubs and scratched at the grass. The corners and points of connection were vulnerable to separating, allowing coyotes and other predators a way in.
This opening was just the right size for a small coyote. Mitch fished out a few connectors and clamped them into place. It wasn’t a permanent fix, but it would do for tonight. He and Arturo could put one of the guys on it tomorrow.
Then he turned back to Bullet, only to come to a stop. There was no way he could get back in the saddle without a mounting block. The lights from the house twinkled in the distance. It was going to be a very long walk.
He grabbed Bullet’s reins and led him a few feet. The horse stopped and looked at him. If Mitch didn’t know better, he could swear the horse was telling him he was an idiot.
“Don’t look at me like I’m stupid,” he said. “I’m the higher mammal here.”
Bullet shook his head. Mitch could swear he also rolled his eyes. Then he carefully lowered himself to the ground, crouching like a camel.
Mitch stared at him. “You’re kidding,” he muttered. “Why didn’t anyone tell me you could do that?”
He settled on the saddle, hung on and Bullet struggled to his feet. When he was standing, Mitch patted his shoulder.
“I owe you, big guy. Oats for you, tonight.”
Bullet turned his head and glanced at him, then headed for the ranch.
The house was in silhouette, a pretty place with welcoming lights. He could see Fidela moving in the kitchen. Arturo would be in his office or watching TV. It was a simple life, but it was his. For the first time in years, Mitch knew that he was home.
SKYE FINGERED the letter on her desk. “I wish you’d reconsider,” she told Marianne. “We’ve done such good work together. You’re an important part of what we do here.”
Marianne coordinated all the local fund-raisers for the foundation and provided support for those interested in learning how to raise money to feed children.
She was barely thirty, with a new husband and a burning desire to make a difference.
“I appreciate the opportunities I’ve had here,” Marianne said, not meeting Skye’s gaze. “You’ve been really nice to work for and I really like all the people. I just feel it’s time for me to make a change.”
The last words were barely a mumble. If Skye hadn’t been listening intently, she wouldn’t have heard them. But she got the message and knew what it meant.
“Marianne, I swear to you, no senior staff has ever been paid a bonus and I have not taken a penny from this foundation. I don’t even get a salary. That information is someone’s idea of a bad practical joke. Trisha and our computer guys are working on solving the problem. We’ll find what’s wrong and fix it. Can’t you give me a few more weeks? Haven’t I earned your trust that much?”
She hated to beg, but in the past week, she’d already lost three good people.
“I have another offer,” Marianne told her. “I start Monday. It’s a smaller place and I won’t make as much, but it’s exciting and…”
“And you won’t have to worry about your reputation,” Skye said, trying not to sound bitter. “I understand.”
In Marianne’s position, she would probably do the same thing. Why not? Until Skye could prove her innocence, no one had any reason to believe her.
“I wish you the best,” Skye told her. “If things don’t work out at your new job, you’re always welcome back here.”
Marianne looked doubtful, as if she couldn’t imagine wanting to return. Skye hoped that when the truth finally came out, she could salvage her reputation, but she wasn’t sure. Garth had done some serious damage here.
Marianne left. Skye turned her chair so she could see out the window and wished she knew how to make things better. Where exactly had everything gone so wrong? At what moment had Garth decided to start his plan? Could he be stopped?
Her door burst open and a tall, geeky-looking guy stumbled into the room. His glasses hung halfway down his nose; his hair stuck up in fifteen directions and his clothes had a serious slept-in look.
“I found it,” he announced with great pride. “I found it. I’ve been staying up all night and I wasn’t sure I could, but I did.” He paused, expectantly.
Skye stood. “Who are you?”
“Leonard.” He pushed up his glasses. “I work in IT. I found where the breach is in the firewall. It’s pretty slick.” He said a bunch of stuff that didn’t sound like any language she’d ever heard.
Skye raised her hands in the shape of a T. “Okay, Leonard. Talk more slowly and to those of us who barely know where the on button is on our computer.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He smiled. “I got a little excited. The guy got through the firewall by piggybacking on another program that we let in all the time. It’s very complicated. A lot of work went into this. Once the Trojan horse got in, it went to work, opening up an easier access, then covered its tracks. So basically whoever is doing this can see everything we do online. Putting in a second set of books was a snap.” He grinned at her.
It took her a second to absorb the information. “Can you stop it?”
“Sure, but I can do one better. I can send a program back that will start to capture information there. That way we can figure out who did this.”
“Will it be legal proof?”
Leonard shifted uncomfortably. “Um, no. Tapping into someone’s computer without a warrant isn’t legal. But it would give you a place to start.”
“I already have an idea of who’s paying the guy,” she said. “I just don’t know who’s cashing the checks and doing the actual work. How illegal is it?”
“I don’t know.”
Skye didn’t, either. She didn’t want Leonard or herself going to jail, but she was tired of Garth being one step ahead of her.
“If we found out who was doing this, we could stop him, right?” she asked.
“Yes,” Leonard told her.
“Give me a second.” She grabbed the phone and dialed from memory.
“Why are you calling me at work?” Dana said by way of greeting. “Is this an emergency? Did you mean to call nine-one-one?”
“Is tapping into someone’s computer really illegal or only a little bad? I mean are we talking about a slap on the wrist or time as Bubba’s love slave?”
“You’d be in a women’s facility, so you wouldn’t know Bubba and I can’t believe you asked me that,” Dana said. “Don’t ask me about illegal stuff. I do not want to arrest my friend.”
