as the youngest in a family full of boys ensuring she could hold her own. Yet even with the edge that never quite went away, she seemed to revel in her yoga and cooking from scratch and feeding the chickens they kept in their coops.
He had no objection to independence in a woman and he’d never bought into the concept of a weaker sex. Strength came in a variety of ways and the emotional support his baby sister gave their family wasn’t something to underestimate. But the yoga and the earth mother routine did confuse him. She could be anything she wanted, yet she seemed stuck in the Pass, communing with nature.
None of which was really his business. She seemed happy enough. Balanced, even.
So why did it still nag at him?
Arden reached for a muffin of her own. “So how is Belle doing? Presumably you two had a civil conversation.”
Strains of their argument came back to him, including his kidney punch of criticism at the effectiveness of the Midnight Pass police force.
Smooth, Reynolds. Real smooth.
“Belle and I don’t do civil all that well.”
Arden waved her butter knife at him. “Belle does civil just fine. You’re the stubborn one who can’t keep your mouth shut.”
“Sort of like you?”
“Chalk it up to a family trait.” Arden grinned. “But you know what I mean. You two should just jump each other and move on. It would make life a heck of a lot easier for the rest of us.”
“Amen to that,” Hoyt muttered as he came into the kitchen. Dust covered the back of his shirt and Arden was already yelling at him to go straight to the mudroom.
Tate wanted to believe he’d have been quicker on the response if Arden’s comment didn’t surprise him so or his brother hadn’t interrupted, reinforcing her suggestion. Later, he’d tell himself that was the reason. When he was out on Tot, rechecking the property, or enjoying a beer watching the night’s Astros game or brushing his teeth before bed, he’d maybe convince himself she’d simply caught him off guard.
But right now, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit, at least to himself, that he was scared.
He didn’t recognize the body in the ravine, but that didn’t mean much. Midnight Pass was a small town, but still big enough for there to be a few strangers. Add in the number of people who traveled through and it wasn’t a complete surprise the man was a stranger.
And yet...
It clawed at him. He’d lived here his whole life. He might have had his ups and down, but this was home. And now they were dealing with a possible killer on the loose?
Hoyt ambled back into the kitchen, his work shirt gone and an old high school football jersey in its place. He shot Arden a dark look as he reached for a muffin. “Happy now?”
“Yes.” She smiled, her expression prim. “I already cleaned up in here for the police and I don’t want you messing up things.”
Hoyt’s mouth firmed into a straight line and he laid his half-peeled muffin back on his plate. “They found something?”
Tate nodded. “A body. Down in one of the ravines before you hit the border.”
“Our ranch?”
“No.” Tate shook his head. “There’s blood on our property but the body was found in part of the borderlands.”
Tate filled in Hoyt on the few details he had, recounting the search as well as the findings of the K-9 team.
The Reynolds family had ranched in Midnight Pass for five generations. They’d worked the land and raised their cattle and been a part of the community. The land itself—as well as that of the Crown and the Vasquez families—was close to the US-Mexico border, but no one’s property line ran straight up to the border. The US government had seen to it that they kept a small strip to manage as its own.
Was it a coincidence that the body was discovered there? A sign, maybe?
“What do you make of it?” Hoyt asked around a bite of his muffin. “Seems odd the actual crime was committed on our property and yet the body was moved. Like a screw you to the Border Patrol?”
Tate turned the idea over in his mind. As theories went, it was as good as any. What it didn’t explain was why anything had happened on their land in the first place. “So why the cut fence?”
Hoyt shrugged. “A mystery for the cops to solve.”
The heavy knock on the back door interrupted their conversation before Belle peeked her head inside. “Okay if I come in?”
Hoyt smiled, his normally gruff demeanor nowhere in evidence for Belle. “We were just talking about you.”
“Oh?”
“All good things.” Arden was already up, waving her in. The two women exchanged quick hugs before Arden gestured her to the table. “Come on in and take a seat.”
In moments, Arden had a fresh mug of coffee and a plate in front of Belle before she rejoined them at the table. “Any updates?”
“Not many.”
“Do they know who it is?”
“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time.” Belle took a sip of her coffee—black, just like Arden’s—and pointed to the sink. “I’m just going to wash up.”
Tate allowed his gaze to linger, the snug fit of her outfit outlining each and every curve of her body. She was thinner than he remembered. Leaner. Which was a surprise. She’d never been a heavy woman, but she’d always had a fair amount of curves. While he could still see the arch of her hips and the firm outline of her breasts when she turned back toward them, there was a decided leanness to her frame.
One more thing cop work had taken away from her.
And she also looks strong, Reynolds. Strong and lethal. And more than capable of protecting herself.
Damn it.
Just like his sister, he admired Belle’s desire to make her way in the world on her own terms and under her own steam. It just burned him that the woman couldn’t see the danger she subjected herself to by being a part of the police force.
Since he’d been battling the same thoughts for more than a decade now, Tate pushed them away. He and Belle didn’t see eye to eye and nothing was going to change that. “Why do you still want to question the men?”
“We need to talk to everyone. That includes all of you.”
Tate leaned back in his chair. “Brace yourselves. Belle’s gonna pull out her Miranda rights.”
“If I did do that, it would be for your protection,” she snapped back, that ire that he’d been poking for nearly his entire life sparking in her eyes. It was an old, familiar routine. It had also grown tired.
Even with the emotional exhaustion, he couldn’t resist one more jab. It also gave him the ability to let her know he understood far more about her work than he let on. “Reading me those rights would also mean I was in custody. You putting handcuffs on me, Belly?”
He knew the moment his taunt hit her and rebounded straight back to him. Like an uncontrollable Harry Potter curse, it swung back at him with unbelievable force. An image of Belle in handcuffs—and little else—filled his mind’s eye and every cell in his body stood up and took notice.
“I like having rights,” Arden interjected, effectively ignoring his innuendo and dragging him out of the moment. “I thought you did, too.”
Belle nodded, her own anger seeming to fade as she shifted her attention to Arden. “For the record, I didn’t read him anything. And if we get to a point where it’s needed, it’s done for legal protection. Same goes for your men.”
“Yet