Chapter 8

It was early afternoon before Cy finished up all his interviews and headed for his office. He went around the back way to the fenced in yard, not wanting to talk to anyone until he’d organized his evidence and had some time to process everything. He let the dogs into the yard and shut the gate.

Opening the door to his shed, he stepped inside, leaving the door open for ventilation. He opened the window and sat the various pictures and documents on his desk before taking off his hat and hanging it on a nail. Taking out a container of tacks from a desk drawer, he stuck the pictures up on the walls.

He’d gotten the photographs of their collections of jewelry from Carly. The Bransons had had them taken for insurance purposes and they hadn’t minded giving Cy copies of them. Cy had concluded that it was either an inside job or someone close to one of the employees. He’d warned all the employees not to leave town or he’d sic a bounty hunter on them.

Now he just had to figure out which employee’s story didn’t hold up. He’d gotten a list of the employees’ addresses who didn’t live at the mayor’s estate and planned on interviewing their neighbors and other acquaintances. It would be time consuming, but it was necessary.

He would split the job with Ellie since she was good at ferreting out information from people. Her questions might sound innocent or merely social, but she was a shrewd woman and knew when someone was trying to hide something.

Sitting down at his desk, Cy took out a large tablet and began drawing, freeing his mind to roam while he sketched a picture. Doing so allowed him to think about the investigation subconsciously while occupying his brain with something else. Sometimes he ended up drawing something related to the crime that led to an answer to a plaguing question.

As his mind sifted through all the information he’d collected from the interviews, he also wondered how Leigh and company were making out with the trench digging. His pencil created a pretty feminine nose and soon, Leigh’s face began taking shape on the paper. A sweet smile curved her full lips and tendrils of hair attractively framed her beautiful, heart-shaped face.

Cy felt a tug of desire as he remembered kissing those luscious, lemonade-laced lips last night. His fingers remembered the softness of her skin as they’d skimmed over her thigh. Cy mentally shook himself, turning his thoughts back to the crime he was investigating.

The Bransons employed eleven servants. Although it seemed impossible that he could figure out which person was responsible for the theft, Cy knew how to weed out the guilty from the innocent.

From the large amount of jewelry that had been taken, Cy thought that there was something else the thieves had been after, and they’d only taken the jewelry as a cover. The pieces were so distinctive that the robbers would have to be idiotic to try selling them anywhere around Chance City or even in Oklahoma.

Cy had telegrammed several sheriffs in the state about the crime and he’d given descriptions to Ellie, who was in the process of distributing flyers to the various jewelry and pawn shops in Chance City. In the morning, she would go to Woodward to do the same thing.

However, Cy had a hunch that those jewels wouldn’t show up for quite some time—not in their original form, anyway. Eventually, whoever had stolen them would most likely take the stones out of their settings and sell them individually. He’d instructed Carly to go through their business papers to make sure that nothing was missing. His investigator’s nose wouldn’t let go of the idea that there was something more valuable at stake than a mere robbery.

Flipping the page on the tablet over, he began brainstorming, writing down other questions that came to mind. He’d set up an appointment for later that afternoon so he could interview the entire family at once. He’d be able to tell whether they’d rehearsed their stories together based on how they reacted to one another when questioned.

Then, the following day, he would get each of them alone and see if he could catch any of them in a lie. When he investigated, he never assumed that anyone was innocent. His stomach rumbled and he decided to get something to eat at his other favorite bar that served an excellent lunch. He said goodbye to the dogs, promising to bring them something back to eat.

The Chowhound Saloon had a reputation for great food and entertainment. Its unconventional proprietor, Sandy Hopper, ran a tight ship while having fun at the same time. She was known for her wacky sense of humor and kind heart. Although she openly propositioned the male clientele, it was done in good fun. Her companion, Jim Gallagher, kept her plenty busy in the romance department.

Cy sniffed the air inside the establishment appreciatively when he entered it. The aroma of beef stew and fresh bread reached his sensitive nose and his stomach growled.

“Well, there you are! It’s been a coon’s age!” Sandy called out from behind the bar as Cy approached it.

“Yep. Here I am,” Cy said. “How are you?”

Sandy’s brown eyes twinkled. “Okay, but I’d be better if you’d give me a toss.”

Cy laughed at her wicked reply, having expected no less from her. “Well, I would, but I’m gonna be getting married soon, and I don’t think my gal would like that too much.”

Sandy braced her arms on the bar and gave him a dubious look. “Married? What do you want to do that for?”

“To save my ranch,” Cy said.

Curiosity jumped into her brown eyes. “Sounds like there’s quite a story there. Out with it.”

Cy told her the situation and when he was done, Sandy laughed.

“So old Rob got you, huh? I’m sorry about your troubles, though. Is she pretty? Good in bed?” Sandy asked brushing her short bangs from her forehead. Unlike most women, she preferred a close-cropped hairstyle.

Her mode of dress raised eyebrows as much as her boisterous, unladylike behavior. She wore men’s trousers and shirts and a gun belt. Her regular patrons knew not to arouse her anger because she wasn’t hesitant about drawing a bead on someone and bringing them down if necessary.

“She’s beautiful, but I’m not gonna find out the answer to that last question until after the wedding.”

Sandy rolled her eyes. “You should sample the goods before you buy them, Cy.”

Cy refused the beer she offered him. “She’s not that kind of woman.”

“That means that she’s not fun like me,” Sandy responded with a wink. “You’re not married yet and I have a room free at the moment.” She nodded her head towards a door to the left that led to some private back rooms.

Cy shook his head. “You know that I’m officially law enforcement now, right?”

Sandy said, “You ain’t gonna arrest me. I provide a valuable service to the community, and I keep things quiet. When was the last time anyone complained about me?”

She had him there. The Chowhound was a place of controlled rowdiness and many of the city’s council members frequented the establishment. Cy himself had partaken of the services offered within its walls, so he would have been a hypocrite to judge others. Although now that Leigh was there, he planned to honor his commitment to her, unlike some men.

“I haven’t heard anyone lodge any complaints and as long as it stays that way, I’ll look the other way. Besides, if I brought any charges against you, I’d have a lot of powerful people on my back. I know how to choose my battles,” Cy said.

Sandy reached over the bar and patted his cheek. “Smart and handsome. Now, how about some lunch?”

“I thought you’d never ask. Beef stew and bread, right?”

“That nose of yours amazes me. Coming right up.”

She went back to the kitchen and Cy chuckled over her outrageous behavior. In a few minutes, she came back with his food.

“So, when are those cousins of yours gonna come see me? Soon, I hope, preferably wearing those skimpy outfits.”

In between bites, Cy said, “I’ll tell them that you’re summoning them.”

She nodded. “Do that. Only this time, they better keep those big mouths of theirs shut a little more.”

He sent her a sardonic glance. “You know that’s impossible. I’ve talked and talked to them about it, but it doesn’t do any good.”

“It’s so hard to believe about Sly because he’s usually so quiet. I wonder if he’s that quiet in bed,” she said.

Cy almost choked on a bite of bread. “You’ll have to ask him,” he said hoarsely.