Mail Order Mystery

 

Chance City Series, Book One

Robin Deeter

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A lady farmer and a disgraced detective--will what starts as an arrangement turn into something more?

 

Leigh Hawthorne, a widow and local farmer in Tucker Springs, Massachusetts, answers an unusual letter from a man out west, who wants to marry a woman with ranching expertise. Hoping to find a better life, Leigh embarks on a journey to Chance City, Oklahoma.

 

Fired for breaking Pinkerton rules, former detective, Cyrus Decker, just wants to live a quiet life as a cattle rancher. The problem is that he knows nothing about ranching—and his bank account shows it. Dogged by Chance City’s sheriff to join his staff, and plagued by money woes, Cy desperately needs help to turn their ranch around. He hopes that Leigh is the answer to his prayers.

 

Brought together by necessity, will Leigh and Cy find love or will their attempt to find lasting happiness meet with disaster? Join the Chance City adventure as its citizens battle opposing forces and mayhem in their search for love and a brighter future.

 

 

Praise for MAIL ORDER MYSERTY

 

Robin Deeter hits a homerun with this first Chance book. — B. Wilson

 

From the first page to the end, I was enthralled by this book. The author paints the pages with words that make the story and characters come alive. — Patricia Brennan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dedication

 

To my Essie, you are my rock and my biggest fan. You’re always there to cheer me on and give me a kick in the caboose when I need it. I treasure your love and loyalty and I couldn’t do this without you.

 

 

 

Other books by Robin Deeter

 

Chance City Beginnings

(Prequels to Chance City Series)

 

Part One

Part Two

 

Chance City Series

 

Mail Order Mystery

Mail Order Mystery Audio Book

Mail Order Mystery Print Book

On the Fence

Crossroads

Gray Justice

When the Thunder Rolls

And the Lightning Strikes

A Very Decker Christmas

 

 

The Paha Sapa Saga

 

Sacrifice and Reward

Sacrifice and Reward Audio Book

Sacrifice and Reward Print Book

Winter Moon

The Bear, Part One

The Bear, Part Two

 

The Phantom Horse Bridge Series

 

Phantom Origins Book 0

Phantom Heat

 

Wolf Junction Series

 

Silver Bell Shifter

 

Chapter One

 

“I’m not one of your deputies, Rob,” Cyrus Decker said, surveying the dead body of the young woman who’d been found dumped along Winding River, the large waterway that ran through the community of Chance City, Oklahoma.

“And yet here you are,” Sheriff Rob Anderson responded with a smile.

Cy’s dark eyes speared Rob with an angry glare. “That’s only because you keep badgering me.”

Rob chuckled, his faded blue eyes sparkling. The rail-thin, fifty-five-year-old man’s affable demeanor and dedication to his job made him a popular person in Chance City. He’d been sheriff for twenty-six years and was well-respected for his ability to keep law and order through mainly diplomatic means versus force.

“Seems to be working,” Rob said. “I don’t know why you don’t just join up with us and be done with it. You know you’re not cut out for ranching. That’s why you left in the first place.”

Cy couldn’t deny that, but he was starting his life over, or trying to. “Nope. Not interested. You wouldn’t like the way I do the job. That’s one of the things that got me fired from Pinkerton’s.”

“Look, I told you I’d call you a special investigator or something like that. We’ve got the budget for it thanks to that endowment from Carly Branson,” Rob said. He spoke of their rich mayor. The Bransons were one of the three richest families in the small city.

Cy had to admit that it was tempting, but he just couldn’t do it. That part of his life was over and all he wanted to do was lead a nice quiet life on his family’s ranch. The only problem was that Rob’s dogged determination and ability to guilt Cy into helping him kept intruding on that lifestyle. Which was the reason he was at the crime scene at quarter to six in the morning, looking at a dead girl, trying to determine how she’d been killed. He searched for any clues that would lead to the capture of the murderer.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Cy crouched, noting every detail about the woman. She was young, maybe twenty-years-old or so. Her body and tangled blonde hair were splattered with mud. Her simple calico dress led Cy to believe that she’d been a ranch woman. While her hands were pretty, they also sported callouses, denoting the fact that she’d done manual labor.

“You don’t know her?” Cy asked, as he started looking for shoe prints in the muddy ground around her.

“Nope, but then there’s been a lot of people comin’ in here since the government let everyone in.”

It was May of 1894, eight months after the Cherokee Strip Run of 1893 when 100,000 plus people had rushed to secure property in the Cherokee territory that had been opened by President Grover Cleveland. Although Chance City had been established back in 1877, it hadn’t been officially made part of the territory until September 16, 1893.

Chance City was close to Woodward, Oklahoma, which had sprung up almost overnight, and the name Woodward County had been given to the formerly named County N. Chance City bordered the new city of Woodward, which was constantly growing and would soon supersede Chance City’s population.

However, Chance City was also growing, although at a slower rate since much of Chance City was already owned by cattle and swine ranchers and occupied by sundry other economic endeavors. As a result, there were now many people whom the original residents of the city didn’t know, the poor girl before Cy being one of them.

“Well, get Guthrie down here to take her picture and we’ll have to circulate it in the Current,” Cy said. “The first step is gonna be finding out who she is and if she’s married or whatnot. There’s no wedding ring, but it could have been stolen. No other identifying jewelry, either.

“No footprints around her, which leads me to believe that she was thrown by two people from a wagon or carriage. There aren’t any wagon tracks close to her, so it would take two people to throw her that far from the road. I see some bruising around her knees and lower thighs, so I’m betting that when you take her to Doc Barnes, he’ll find that sexual assault is involved. Hard to tell whether it was before or after death, though.”

Rob listened closely to Cy’s insights. Cy always talked his way through a crime scene, often producing new theories as he did so. Rob found it fascinating to watch the man work and he wanted him on his force in the worst way. The sheriff wasn’t going to give up trying to convince Cy to come on board.

Thunder rumbled overhead and Cy looked at the blackening sky. “Damn it. Send someone for Guthrie before it pours again, will you?”

Rob smiled at Cy’s authoritative tone but humored the younger man. “Sure. Hey! Jeffries, get over here!”

Chance City’s newly hired female deputy, Ellie Jeffries ran over to her superior. “Yes, sir?”

Rob was fond of the twenty-three-year-old woman with light brown hair and vibrant blue eyes. People thought that he was insane for hiring a woman, but she had talents that were useful to the department. She was only five-foot-three, but she was strong and quick with her fists, which had earned her the nickname “Jabs”. “Go get Guthrie and get a move on.”

“Yes, sir,” Ellie said, rushing to her horse and galloping away.

Cy saw a pair of women’s everyday boots lying a short distance away. “Definitely a ranch woman,” he muttered. “Pudge!”

In response to his call, a black Japanese Pug emerged from some bushes a few yards away and raced to Cy’s side, prancing as he eagerly awaited Cy’s orders. He was one of three dogs that Cy had trained for various forms of work. He’d used them during his time as a Pinkerton detective and had, of course, brought them with him when he’d come home in disgrace.

Cy pointed at the shoes and had Pudge sniff. “Find,” he told the dog.

Pudge sniffed all around the body but came back and looked at the deceased woman and then at Cy, his curly little tail wagging.

Smiling, Cy said, “Good boy. Yep. Someone threw her over here. They dumped her in a good place, too. Not many houses here on the outskirts of town.” He stood up and carefully made one last circle around the body.

Rob had already come to some of the same conclusions that Cy had drawn, but he hadn’t thought about the woman being tossed from a vehicle of some sort. “Why do you think they didn’t bury her somewhere?”

“Have there been any other women found lately?” Cy asked.

“Nope.”

“I hope there aren’t, but it’s something to keep in the back of your mind. Maybe they wanted her to be found,” Cy said.

Rob sighed and bent to scratch Pudge’s ears. The pug grunted happily. Ellie returned with Brock Guthrie, another one of Rob’s four deputies. Brock couldn’t stand Cy and took every opportunity to annoy the former detective when he wasn’t on duty. However, since he was working a crime scene, he retained a professional demeanor around Cy.

Because Cy was one-quarter Comanche, the deputy barely tolerated him. Brock’s grandfather had been killed during a skirmish between a small Comanche group and some of Brock’s family. Brock had been little at the time and had witnessed the fight. He’d dearly loved his grandfather and seeing him struck down by a Comanche brave had instilled hatred in Brock for Indians in general, but especially the Comanche.

Brock brought his cameras over to the scene and Cy moved well out of the way. Brock petted Pudge for a moment before getting to work. He might not like Cy, but he loved dogs, and Cy’s dogs were no exception.

Brock worked with two different Kodak cameras; a little pocket model and a larger one on a tripod. Cy jotted down some notes, politely asking Brock to photograph certain things. Brock complied without complaint, knowing that giving Cy a hard time would bring Rob’s wrath down on him. Rob was fiercely protective of Cy, but no one knew why. It irked Brock to no end that Rob sometimes put more stock in Cy’s investigative skills than in those of his staff.

Finished, Brock put his equipment away and rode off to the Current’s office, where he would use their darkroom to develop the pictures. Cy watched Brock ride off with dismay and felt the old frustration rise again. Brock was a great deputy with solid investigative skills, and he was well-liked around town. A little showy sometimes, but in a beguiling, amusing way. It was only Brock’s hatred of Cy’s heritage and resentment of Rob’s involving him in investigations that stood in the way of them being friends.

Sighing, Cy said, “Let me know when they’re developed. I’m going home. If anything comes up after you interview any witnesses, let me know.”

Rob asked “Aren’t you gonna interview any witnesses? You know, do your own investigation?”

“I told you, I’m not one of your deputies. I gave you a starting point. If you get stuck let me know, but otherwise, I have things to do,” Cy said, mounting up. He whistled for Pudge, who jumped high in the air. Cy caught his harness and sat him on the saddle in front of him. “Take care, Ellie, Rob.” He put his heels to his horse, Duke, and set him off for home.

Ellie smiled. “He sure is one gorgeous man.”

Rob hid his smile. She wasn’t the only female in Chance City who thought so. Cy might keep his deep brown hair cut short, but there was no denying his Comanche lineage. His light tan skin turned darker in the summer and his dark eyes were set below eyebrows that resembled the wings of a raven. He rarely smiled, but when he did, his high cheekbones became even more defined, giving his face a chiseled look.

Gruffly, Rob said, “Don’t you got something better to do than stand around gawking at men?”

Blushing, Ellie said, “Yes, sir. I’ll start talking to the people who live around here.”

“Good thinking,” Rob said.

 

 

The previous night, strong storms had rolled over the community. The powerful winds had left behind downed trees and other debris. Riding down the lane to the Sundance Ranch, Cy surveyed the damage to his property, sighing as he looked at the large oak tree that had fallen on the barn, caving in a portion of one of the walls and roof.

He uttered not one word, but he didn’t have to for his sister, Daphne, to know that her brother was angry as he rode up to where she stood by the barn. It shone in Cyrus’ dark eyes, his most expressive feature.

“It’ll be okay, Cy. We’ll get that tree out of there and fix the barn.”

Cy flicked a glance at Daphne before saying, “That’s the least of our worries. I just hope it didn’t damage too much stuff inside the barn. The tree will come in handy for firewood come fall since it’ll have all summer to dry out.” He handed Pudge to Daphne.

Daphne petted the dog and smiled. “That’s right. Gotta keep positive.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up as he dismounted. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’re as annoying as heck when you’re so cheerful?”

She patted his arm, her brown eyes shining up at him. “You do all the time.”

“Well, I mean it. Okay. I’ll get Johnny and we’ll get after that tree,” Cyrus said.

With an inward groan, he turned away from the damaged barn and walked to one of the bunkhouses. He pounded on the door.

“Johnny! Get your rear up and help me!”

Inside the bunkhouse, Johnny Decker jerked awake and began scrambling out of his bed. “Sure, Cy! Be right there!”

Cyrus frowned and said, “Come over to the house.”

“Okay!” Johnny shouted back.

Cy took Duke to the barn to rub him down and then turned him out into the pasture. Then he made his way to the large farmhouse and entered the kitchen where Daphne was making pancakes.

“Is he coming?”

“Yeah. I know he’s our cousin, but he’s about as worthless as teats on a bull,” Cyrus said.

“Be nice,” Daphne reprimanded him.

Cyrus said, “Yes, ma’am,” but the gleam in his eyes said that he wasn’t really sorry.

Daphne might be two years younger than his twenty-seven years, but she ruled the roost in some respects. They’d decided when they’d been given the reins to the ranch by their father that she would run the inside and he’d take care of the outside. Most of the time they stayed out of each other’s way.

Daphne sat a plate filled with flapjacks and bacon in front of him. Next, she gave him a cup of coffee. “That’ll improve your mood,” she said.

Johnny came hurrying into the kitchen, still tucking his shirt into his trousers. “Were you out on an investigation again? Is that what’s going on?” Curiosity lit his blue eyes that sat under a shock of messy wheat-blonde hair.

“Yeah. Another murder. None of us knows her. Pretty young blonde. Looks like a ranch girl. Her picture will be in the paper tomorrow,” Cy said.

“Pretty, young, and blonde; just how I like my women,” Johnny said, grinning.

Daphne laughed as she put a plate in front of Johnny.

Cy smiled. “Well, unless you like your women dead, too, you’re out of luck.”

This earned him a smack on the shoulder from Daphne. “Shame on you!” Her brother’s gallows humor bothered her sometimes.

“Sorry. Force of habit,” Cy said.

Not everyone understood that his sometimes-dark humor was a defense mechanism against the strong emotions that horrible crimes could cause an investigator. It kept his judgement clear so that he could bring criminals to justice.

“Johnny, we’re gonna get that tree out of the barn and see how much of it needs repaired,” he said.

“There’s a tree in the barn?”

Johnny ran outside to look while Cy and Daphne chuckled and shook their heads.

“Jesus, Joseph, and don’t forget Mary!” Johnny said before coming back inside. “Did it storm last night?”

Daphne said, “Did it storm? You might say that. Didn’t you hear it?”

“Nope. Of course, I’m a sound sleeper, but I did dream about drums, so maybe I thought the thunder was drums,” Johnny said, flooding his pancakes with syrup. “Oh, that reminds me. Daniel wants to see you. I saw him last night, but you were already in bed. We were playing cards.”

Cy scowled. “Which explains why you weren’t up this morning. He’s a bad influence on you. All right. I’ll go up there after breakfast, but you get started on that tree, okay?”

“Sure, Cy.” Johnny then stuffed his mouth with pancakes.

Cy shook his head and ate his own breakfast.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

After eating, Cy caught one of their other horses and whistled for his other two dogs, Slink, a black and white Greyhound, and Burt, a big Husky-German shepherd mix. They came from the vicinity of the barn, where they had most likely been hunting mice or rabbits. Pudge rode in his place of prestige in front of Cy, adept at balancing himself as the horse moved.

Cy rode down the road for a couple of miles and then turned right onto a long lane that cut through a thin line of trees. On the other side of the trees, a huge ranch came into view. Horses filled the pastures, their neighs carrying to him on the breeze. His maternal uncle, David Lone Wolf, had followed in the Comanche tradition of being an excellent horseman and skilled horse breeder, and owned the expansive, successful ranch.

Their horses were of the finest quality, which was the main reason the family was tolerated around the region. They’d been providing excellent horses to the military and anyone else looking for good horses for decades. Cy’s cousin, Daniel, had taken over the breeding and training side of the operation, while David concentrated on the financial aspect of it.

At a signal from Cy, the dogs stayed close to him. He didn’t trust them not to chase the horses if he let them roam free. Tying the horse to the hitching post outside the large, two-story stone house, Cy had barely taken three steps from his horse until Daniel came out of the house, raising his hands high in the air.

Whereas Cy had cut his hair short when he’d left Chance City at the age of eighteen, Daniel had fully embraced his Comanche heritage, letting his black hair grow long. It reached almost to his waist, and he had no intention of cutting it. He didn’t color the center part as their ancestors had, but he did wear a scalp lock, a small, braided section of hair that fell on the right side of his head.

While the Comanche for the most part were a shorter statured people, Cy and Daniel’s white heritages included some taller people along the line and both men stood over six feet tall. While Cy’s eyes were dark, Daniel’s were a clear, sky-blue in hue. When he was at home during the warmer months, Daniel wore a traditional breechcloth and nothing else, even if people came over. He didn’t care if they liked it or not.

“A’ho, cousin!” he said. “I see Johnny gave you my message.”

“A’ho. Yeah.” Cy jogged up the porch steps and grasped arms with Daniel. “So, what have I been summoned for?”

Daniel smiled. “I have something for you.”

“Uh oh. Something tells me you’re up to no good.”

“Your great detecting skills have deduced the truth once again,” Daniel said mischievously. “Stay here and close your eyes.”

Cy did and tried to be patient as he thought about all the work that waited for him at home. His mind shifted to the murder victim he’d dealt with that morning.

“Okay, open your eyes,” Daniel said, coming back out onto the porch.

Cy’s eyes rounded when he saw Daniel holding a fuzzy puppy that he instantly recognized as a Collie. “You didn’t.”

“As you can see, I did,” Daniel said. “Happy birthday.” He handed the puppy to Cy, who cuddled it against his chest. “I know your birthday isn’t until next week, but I couldn’t wait that long to give her to you. Besides, she was driving Ma crazy with her whining at night.”

Cy smiled. “I’m sure that Aunt Bonnie will be glad to be rid of her then.” He held the puppy aloft. “What am I gonna name you, huh? What’s your name?”

His dogs crowded around, curious about the puppy. Pudge panted excitedly and yapped a couple of times.

“Be nice,” Cy told the adult dogs firmly as he put the puppy down on the porch.

Pudge might be the smallest of the three dogs, but he was the undisputed leader of the canine trio. He snapped at Slink and Burt, keeping them away from the puppy, who cowered against Cy’s legs. Then the pug sniffed the puppy, making loud snuffling sounds as he thoroughly went over the younger canine, who was about the same size as him. His curly tail wagged the whole time.

Deciding that the Collie passed muster, Pudge yipped his approval and let the big dogs come forward to meet the puppy. When the puppy put her little paw on Burt’s muzzle, Burt growled. It was the wrong thing to do.

Pudge flew at him, jumping up to bite his neck and then his leg. Burt yelped and danced away. Pudge growled and then sneezed as if to say, “That’ll teach you!” Pudge pranced back to the puppy and licked her face a couple of times. Slink had backed away from the puppy, unwilling to be another target of Pudge’s anger.

Daniel burst into laughter. “It always amazes me how afraid they are of Pudge. They could eat him for lunch, but they don’t seem to realize it.”

“Don’t let Pudge’s size fool you. He’s solid muscle and his jaws are strong. Pugs are almost fearless and don’t back down easily. He has no idea that he’s little. In his mind, he’s as big as a grizzly bear and just as fierce,” Cy said. “It looks like he approves of the pup. I just gotta think of a name. One will come to me.”

“It usually does. You’re the best person at naming an animal I’ve ever seen,” Daniel said.

Cy said, “Thanks. Well, I gotta get a tree out of my barn. The storms last night did some damage. Johnny started it, but I’m not sure how far he’s gotten. And quit keeping him up till all hours. He’s worthless the next day.”

Daniel grinned. “Sorry. Do you want help with the tree? I can come over.”

“I won’t refuse the offer. You better put on more than that, though. You don’t want to get all scratched up,” Cy said.

Daniel snorted. “I think I can handle it. I’ll go tell Pa where I’m going. Be right back.”

 

 

Daphne closed her eyes in dismay when she saw the puppy. “Not another dog! Daniel, why did you buy him another one?”

“Sorry, cousin, but I thought he could use a dog to help herd the cattle,” Daniel said. “It’ll actually be useful, unlike these other mangy mutts.”

“Hey!” Cy objected. “They’re useful, just not for ranch work.”

“Sort of like you,” Daniel said.

Cy’s scowl deepened. “I do just fine.”

Daphne turned her head to hide her smile, but not in time for Cy to miss it. Daniel saw it, too, and grinned.

Cy bristled. “I do a heck of a lot better than Johnny. Besides, until six months ago, I hadn’t done ranch work for almost ten years.”

“And as I recall, you didn’t do it all that well then, either” Daniel said.

Cy glared at him before lowering the puppy to the floor so she could explore the kitchen. “Why do you think I left?”

Daphne replied, “Because you wanted to do something more exciting than ranching.”

“And because you stunk at it,” Daniel chimed in.

“Thanks,” Cy said sardonically.

They were right, though. He’d never been all that good at doing the mundane ranch work like fixing fences and branding cattle, not because he wasn’t capable, but because he had no interest in it. Hence the reason he’d hightailed it to Chicago as soon as he’d been old enough and had joined Pinkerton’s organization. He’d loved his job, and he’d still be doing it if it hadn’t been for…no, best not to go into that.

Daphne hated the pain that flickered in Cy’s eyes for a moment. “Cy, you’re doing the best you can now. We’re just teasing you.”

“I know,” he said, smiling tightly. “Don’t worry about it. Well, let’s get to it. Will you watch the puppy?”

Daphne said, “Yes, of course.” She pointed at Daniel. “Don’t buy him any more dogs!”

Daniel merely smiled before heading outside.

“Cy, hang on a minute,” Daphne said.

“I’ll be right there, Daniel,” Cy called through the open door.

He shut it again so that the pup didn’t follow Daniel. “What’s wrong?”

Daphne chewed the inside of her bottom lip a moment, then said, “It’s about our finances. We need to make out good on the cattle sale next week. How are they looking?”

Cy’s jaw clenched. “I don’t know. I guess they’re all right. They’re not skinny, but they could be a little fatter. It’s the damn drought. The grazing isn’t real good and I don’t know enough about irrigating to improve it, either.”

“Maybe we should hire a ranch foreman who knows about things like that?” Daphne suggested.

Cy said, “It doesn’t sound like we have the money.”

Daphne didn’t want to hurt Cy’s feelings. “I know, but we need someone who knows what they’re doing. With Ma and Pa gone now and our last foreman moving to California, we’re stuck.”

Cy hated to agree with her, but he was a realist. “You’re right. Do you think we have a little wiggle room in the budget at all?”

“I don’t know. Let’s take a look at it tonight after supper, all right?” Daphne suggested.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Cy rubbed his forehead. “For now, I’ve got a tree to cut up and a barn to fix. See ya after a bit.”

Daphne nodded. “I’ll fix a nice lunch.”

Cy gave her a slight smile and left the house.

 

 

That evening as Cy entered Big Benny’s, one of his favorite two saloons, he was greeted by the owner himself, Benny McFarland. Benny’s green eyes glittered with good humor as he smiled at Cy.

“Well, look what the cat drug in,” he said. “Been a while.”

Cy sat on a stool at the bar. “Yeah. I needed to dry out a little. I tried, but I just couldn’t quite drown all my sorrows in booze.”

Benny sobered. He was one of the few people who knew Cy’s whole tale of woe. “Things any better in that department?”

With a shrug, Cy said, “Some, I guess. It helps when I keep busy.”

“I’m sorry,” Benny said, running a big hand through his fiery red hair that he wore in a short brush cut.

“Don’t be,” Cy said. “I’m fine. So, what’s new in your world?”

Benny said, “Nothing. Same old, same old. I heard you got a case.”

Cy shook his head. “Nah. I just got them started on the right path, that’s all. I got too much to do at home. Our barn was damaged by the storm, and I don’t know how much we’ll get for our steers at the sale next month. All that rain didn’t seem to help the grazing much. We need a lot more for it to make a difference.”

Benny felt bad for the ranchers and farmers in the area. The drought had affected them all no matter what sort of crop they were growing. “You could always sell.”

Cy shook his head. “Nope. Promised Ma and Pa that we wouldn’t. Our family’s lived on that property for a long time. Gotta find some way to make a profit.”

Benny sat a beer in front of him. “Why don’t you take Rob up on his offer? You could bring in money that way and use it to keep the ranch afloat.”

Cy pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. I gave up that life. It’s behind me now and that’s the way I want to keep it.”

As he wiped down the bar, Benny let out a snort. “Yeah, sure it is. Rob is gonna get you one way or another and you know it’s what you were born to do, Cy.”

Cy gave the big man a hard look. “Not anymore. I just want to work the ranch and have a quiet life. Is that too much to ask?”

Benny grinned, twin dimples flashing. “Cy, you need to face the fact that your life will never be quiet. You attract trouble no matter where you go. You always have.”

Since he was unable to refute that, Cy just took a swig of beer. “I need a ranch foreman, but I can’t afford one. It’s not like I can go around asking for ranching advice, either.”

Benny’s big arm muscles rolled and bunched as he dried glasses. The man always seemed to be in motion. “Yeah. I hear ya. Sorry about that. Of course, the Thunder Twins don’t help matters.”

Cy grunted. “I know.”

His cousins refused to keep their heads down or to back down from a fight. They didn’t start them, but they didn’t run away from them, either. Cy, Daniel and his twin, Sly, had all participated in their fair share of fights growing up.

Cy had dealt with racism after he’d left home, too, but many times, he’d been able to pass for Italian or Spanish. He’d neither hidden nor admitted his Comanche heritage when on the job. He’d become whatever was required at the time.

But Daniel and Sly were antagonized on a regular basis, and, since both had smart mouths on them, they didn’t endear themselves to many people. They also didn’t much care what people thought about them, which only added to their bad reputations. People called them the Thunder Twins because they shook things up in spectacular fashion wherever they went.

As a result, Cy wasn’t liked much better than they were, so asking any of the ranchers for help wouldn’t get him anywhere. Even if one of them had been inclined to show kindness, they wouldn’t for fear that it would get around and they would be ostracized, too. No, Cy and Daphne were on their own.

A devil sat on Benny’s shoulder as he eyed Cy’s tense posture. “You need a woman.”

His statement startled Cy out of his thoughts. “Huh? What do you mean?”

Benny leaned towards him and lowered his voice. “I mean that maybe a good roll in the hay will set your mind right.”

Cy laughed.

Benny grinned. “What did you think I meant? That you get married?”

“You’re lucky you didn’t suggest it,” Cy said. “I don’t want to get married. Besides, no one around here would marry me once they know I’m part Comanche. No, I need a ranch foreman, not a wife.”

“You said that you can’t afford one.”

“That’s right,” Cy said.

Benny felt that devil sit right back down on one of his big shoulders. “So marry a ranch foreman.”

Cy’s eyes widened. “What are you talkin’ about? I’m no Nancy.”

Laughter bubbled up in Benny’s broad chest and erupted over the shocked look on Cy’s face. “I didn’t mean you were.” It took a few moments for his laughter to abate. “I’m saying that you should find some woman who knows about taking care of stock and stuff like that and marry her. Just a business arrangement with some other benefits.”

Cy laughed at Benny’s sly wink. “Even if one of those did exist around here, like I said, she ain’t gonna marry me.”

“Then get Connie Burns to put an ad in her mail order bride catalogue. It sells all over the country, from what I understand,” Benny said. “You just go tell Connie what you’re after and she’ll reach out. I’m sure you can find a woman somewhere who would be able to run the ranch for you. Then you’d have a foreman—forewoman—and you wouldn’t have to pay her.”

It was an outrageous idea, but Cy was a calculated risk taker. Could something like that work? Was there a woman out there who could be the answer to his problems? Benny was right; if he married a woman with the kind of knowledge needed to turn the ranch around, he’d be willing to sacrifice some freedom in order to make that happen.

Besides, he’d make sure she understood upfront that it was purely business. Well, not purely. He’d like kids someday, so they’d have to be intimate, and if she were pretty enough, that wouldn’t be a problem. As he drank his beer, Cy thought that just maybe Benny had hit on the solution to his troubles.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

A couple of weeks later, Cy hammered nails into the board he held against the support beam with quick, efficient movements. Johnny worked a short distance from him, nails sticking out of his mouth. He reminded Cy of some sort of rabid dog and supposed that he must look the same way.

Hearing horse hooves on the lane, he backed up until he could see the drive. He let out a quiet groan as Rob rode over to him and Johnny.

“Cy, Johnny,” the sheriff greeted them.

Johnny grinned at him. “You here for Cy?”

“That’s right. Can I talk to you privately?” Rob asked.

Cy indicated the damaged barn. “I’m busy right now.”

Rob gave a curt nod. “I see that, but it won’t take long.” His eyes moved to Johnny and then back to Cy.

“Johnny, why don’t you get us something to drink? I’ll take care of this, and we’ll get back at it.”

“Sure. Good to see you, Sheriff,” Johnny said.

“You, too, son,” Rob said. Once the younger man was out of earshot, Rob asked, “Do you know why someone would be investigating you?”

Cy’s brows drew together. “No. No one should be interested in me. Who’s asking questions about me?”

“Some investigator from Massachusetts. Wanted to know whether you’ve ever beaten a woman or if you have a criminal record. That sort of thing.”

Cy’s left eyebrow lifted. “Beaten a woman? That’s specific. I have no idea why someone would be asking that sort of—”

He broke off as something occurred to him. “Connie says that some mail order bride services investigate any potential grooms. It’s a great idea. A woman can never be too careful, especially when she’s coming to a completely new place.”

Rob’s eyes rounded and he tipped up his tan cowboy hat. “You advertised for a mail order bride? I didn’t know you were lookin’ to get married. What’s wrong with the girls around here?”

“None of them would marry a Comanche and I need a woman who can run the ranch,” Cy said, enjoying Rob’s surprised reaction.

“A woman to run the ranch? Now I’ve heard it all,” Rob said.

“That’s right. I can’t afford a ranch foreman, so I figure that I’ll save a bunch of money if I marry one,” Cy said. “There’s gotta be a woman out there who knows her way around cattle and ranching.”

Rob let out a snort, which quickly turned into a full belly laugh. Wiping away tears of mirth, he said, “You never did think like other people, and I can see that you still don’t. That’s the strangest way of getting a ranch foreman I’ve ever heard. What if she’s ugly? You still gonna marry her?”

Cy had thought about that, but it was a business arrangement, so he didn’t attach dreams of finding a great love match to the situation. He’d had that once and that dream had gone up in flames.

“Yep. I don’t care what she looks like as long as she can run a ranch. I was clear in my letter that this was just business. If we’re attracted to each other, that’d be great, but if not …” He gave a shrug of indifference. “So what did you tell the investigator?”

“The truth. I told him that you’re a pain in my backside because you won’t come work for me. I told him you’re a top-notch investigator and a good man.”

“Thanks for the recommendation. Much appreciated,” Cy said. “Well, I got a barn to fix.”

Rob ignored his dismissal. “Don’t you want to know about the investigation?”

“Nope.”

Cy hammered a nail home, but Rob didn’t leave. Eyeing the sheriff, Cy knew that he wasn’t getting rid of him until he asked.

“Fine! How’s the investigation going?”

“We solved it. Turns out that the woman was cheating on her husband. He got drunk one night and, well, you saw what happened. Ellie sweet-talked one of his buddies into spilling the beans,” Rob said.

Cy grinned. “Way to go, Ellie.”

“Yeah. I’m proud of her. The story was in the paper.”

“I don’t read the newspaper anymore. Too much bad news in it,” Cy said.

“Mmm hmm. Well, if you had read it, you’d also know the other reason I’m here.”

Cy’s shoulders sagged and he groaned in dismay. “I don’t want to know.”

“Someone robbed the Briggs Bank late yesterday,” Rob said.

Shock zinged up Cy’s spine. “That’s our bank.”

Rob’s gaze turned kind. “Yeah, I know. You better get in there to get whatever money you can for now before there’s a run on it.”

Cy swore and pounded his fist against the board he’d just hammered into place. “I don’t believe this! How much did they take?”

“Fifty thousand.”

More cussing followed Rob’s response. He waited until Cy quieted. “I know a way you can make some pretty good money.”

Cy narrowed his eyes at Rob, who wore a smug expression. Anger churned in his gut at the thought of becoming an investigator again. He wanted to leave that life behind, but apparently Fate had other ideas—and a nasty sense of humor.

Thinking about the amount of money Rob had offered him before, Cy saw a way to get his hands on enough funds to keep them afloat since their slightly inferior cattle hadn’t brought a high price. But if he accepted the position, he’d be stuck in a life that would constantly remind him of a past that tormented him. If he didn’t take the job, they’d starve and lose the farm. Cy was trapped, and his wily old friend and mentor knew it.

Cy’s face hardened. “Up the pay ten percent and I’ll take the job. But I’m not gonna put up with crap from Brock or anyone else. I investigate the way I see fit and the dogs work with me. I don’t want to be a special investigator, though. Detective will do just fine.”

Rob kept his elation from his expression, nodding as calmly as if they’d been discussing the weather. “All right. Done.”

Cy’s scowl deepened as frustration constricted his chest. “I’ll be along.”

This time when Cy went back to work, Rob left, knowing it was best to leave Cy be if he didn’t want him to change his mind.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Cy walked into the sheriff’s department with his three adult dogs in tow. Looking around the large space, Cy felt like he’d been thrust into prison for a crime he didn’t commit. That trapped feeling washed over him, and his lungs refused to expand for a moment. Then Ellie rose from her desk, coming to greet him, and he was able to breathe again.

“Hi, Cy. Glad to have you aboard.”

Ellie’s enthusiasm and good nature coaxed a smile from Cy. “Hi, Ellie. It’s good to see you, but I’m not happy to be here.”

“That’s okay. You will be.” She gave him a wink. “The boss is out at the moment, but he said that I’m supposed to show you around.”

Brock came out of a small kitchen at the back of the room. “If he’s half as smart as Rob thinks he is, I think he can find his way around, Ellie.”

Cy didn’t react to Brock’s brusque tone. Instead, he whistled to his dogs and headed for the kitchen. Ellie followed him.

“Where are you going?” she asked. “You’re not leaving, are you? Don’t worry about Brock. He’ll get used to having you around.”

Cy’s lips twitched in amusement. She reminded him of an energetic Jack Russell terrier, eager to make friends and please her master. “I’m not worried about him. I’m just heading to my new office.”

Ellie’s brows drew down as she followed him through the kitchen and out the back door that led to a fenced-in area. “Your office? There’s no office out here.”

Cy gave the dogs a hand signal that gave them permission to roam. They trotted away, sniffing as they went. A shed sat off to the right side of the building. Cy headed for it and opened the door. A couple of shovels and rakes leaned against one wall while a few barrels lined the left wall. The floor needed swept and the cobwebs in the corners at the ceiling had to be cleared away, but those things were easily remedied.

Cy’s critical glance moved around the shed interior, and he decided that there would be enough room for a desk, small camping stove, and a bookcase or two. It suited his needs perfectly.

Ellie looked between him and the shed. “What are you going to do?”

“Clean it up. It’s my new office,” Cy replied. “Where are the cleaning supplies?”

He turned around and ran right into Ellie because she was standing so close. “Sorry,” he said, steadying her.

“That’s all right. Did Rob say you could do that? I mean, I thought you’d be in there with us.”

Again, she followed Cy much like a dog as he went back inside. “No, but I don’t think he’ll care. I don’t really care if he does. I don’t want to spend my days sitting in here being glared at by Brock. Besides, I think better when I’m alone.”

Brock sat at his desk, going over some sort of paperwork. Cy practically felt the animosity rolling off the deputy. Ignoring Brock, Cy said, “Show me where the cleaning stuff is please, Ellie.”

“It’s right here in this closet,” she said, opening the door.

“Thanks.”

He grabbed what he needed and headed outdoors.

When Ellie would have followed, he said, “Ellie, I can handle this. Go on back to work. I don’t want you to get in trouble because you let something go to help me.”

Ellie responded to his kind smile with one of her own. “Okay, but if you need anything, just let me know.”

“Will do.”

When she’d gone, Cy went to work. The sweeping and cleaning helped settle his nerves a little. Once he was done with that, he’d get down to work on the bank robbery. He’d do his preliminary interviews with the bank employees and see whatever evidence Brock had found when he’d done his own sweep.

He sighed, not looking forward to interacting with Brock. He saw a lot of arguments between them in the future. It was his main reason for claiming the shed for his office. The less time he and Brock had to spend together, the better. He had no fear of the deputy, he just didn’t want the hassle of dealing with Brock’s attitude. It would distract him while he worked on investigations.

Finished, he stood back to survey his handiwork. The place was plain, but he didn’t care. It was clean. Now he had to see about a stove and the other things he needed. He’d just closed the shed door when Rob came outside. The dogs ran to greet him, and he pet them.

“Ellie said you’re gonna use that as an office.” He picked up Pudge, who gave him sloppy kisses.

Cy arched an eyebrow. “That’s right. Got a problem with that?”

Rob hid his amusement over his challenging tone. “Not a one. Pick up what you need for it, and the department will reimburse you.”

“Okay. I’m gonna talk to Brock about the robbery and then work on interviews,” Cy said.

Rob hated the tension between the two men, and he hated that he’d had to pressure Cy into taking the job, but he felt it would be better for all concerned. Chance City could use someone like Cy and the younger man would be happier doing what God had made him for: solving crimes.

“I told all of my staff they better cooperate with you or else,” Rob said. “Brock might not be real nice, but he’ll behave. You do the same, understand?”

“Yeah.” Cy nodded curtly. “I’ll get started.”

“Okay. Keep me updated,” Rob said as they went inside.

The dogs trailed after them, following Cy as he walked over to Brock’s desk and sat down in the chair by it. At a hand signal from Cy, the dogs sat down. Pudge pawed Brock’s leg and whined as he gazed at Cy.

“What’s he want?” Brock asked.

Cy smiled. “Up on your lap. Is it okay?”

Brock grinned. “Yeah.”

“Go ahead,” Cy said in Comanche.

Pudge nimbly jumped onto Brock’s lap, panting happily as Brock scratched his ears and fussed over him. Slink, who lived up to his name, crept over to Brock and worked his head under one of Brock’s arms. Brock was happy to oblige, petting the Greyhound, too. Burt was occupied with Ellie for the moment.

“So what did you find out about the robbery so far?” Cy asked after a few moments.

Brock reached around Pudge and picked up a tablet, which he handed to Cy. “They said that they couldn’t be sure if it was an inside job or not. I talked to all of the employees, and they seemed on the up and up, but I’m not a big-time investigator like you, so I might have missed something.”

Brock’s sarcasm set Cy’s teeth on edge. “Okay. You’re a good judge of character except where I’m concerned, and I’m sure you were thorough.”

Fire lit in Brock’s blue eyes, but Rob came out of his office, preventing him from responding. Burt trotted after the sheriff, trying to sniff his pant legs. Rob tried to shoo him away, but Burt was insistent.

Cy smiled. “He smells Tubby on you.”

Rob smiled at the mention of his fat little mutt. “Yeah, she’s in heat again. I’ve been keeping her penned up, though. We don’t need any more puppies.”

“Ah. No wonder Burt’s all over you,” Cy said. He snapped his fingers, and Burt instantly stopped his bad behavior.

Rob said, “I wish I could get Tubby to behave like that.”

“You can,” Cy said. “It just takes patience and consistency.” Giving Ellie a wink, he said, “It works on women, too.”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Maybe on other women, but not me. You ever snap at me like that, and I’ll punch you right in the kisser.”

“Duly noted,” Cy said.

He fell silent as he read Brock’s report, committing it to memory, before giving the tablet back to Brock. Getting up, he said, “I’ll be back after a bit. Is it okay to leave Burt and Slink here?”

Brock said, “Sure. The only thing good about you working here is that you’ll bring them.”

Rob’s lips thinned in disapproval, but Cy ignored the jab. He told the two bigger dogs to stay, but called Pudge, who hopped down from Brock’s lap and followed Cy out the door.

 

 

The night before she was to leave Tucker Springs, Massachusetts for Chance City, Oklahoma, Leigh Hawthorne walked through one of the large barns on their sprawling dairy cattle farm. She patted each of the horses, saying goodbye to them. Anxiety gnawed at her, but she felt that her decision to head west to marry Detective Cyrus Decker was a wise one. She’d liked his no-nonsense letter.

The cut-and-dried situation suited her perfectly after she’d dealt with so much drama over the past three years since her husband, Walt, had passed away. Pete, her father-in-law, got as much work out of her as possible without giving her any credit for the job she’d done in keeping the farm going.

She’d only stayed out of stubbornness and because there was nothing else at which she was skilled besides farm work. Sure she could do housework, but it wasn’t where her talents lay. Herding, milking, and fixing fences were just a few of the farming tasks she enjoyed. Everything she did was one more step towards improving their business.

“And now, the old buzzard is gonna find out just how much work I do around here,” she said to her horse, Cutter, a chestnut stallion.

The horse bumped his head against her, and she stroked his neck. She’d ride him into town in the morning and load him on the train. There was no way she was leaving behind her prized Quarter horse, whom she’d paid for with her own money.

That was a preview of Mail Order Mystery: The Chance City Series Book One. To read the rest purchase the book.

Add «Mail Order Mystery: The Chance City Series Book One» to Cart