Free Calder Storm by Janet Dailey

own.”
    â€œTo tell you the truth, we’ve already sampled them.” Ed grinned. “We thought it would be easier for you to eat and listen than it would be for us to eat and talk. So, how’s Chase doing these days?”
    â€œHe’s still going strong,” Jessy replied truthfully.
    â€œI always picture him sitting in the den behind that big desk of his, and that old map of the Triple C on the wall behind him.” An absentminded smile curved his mouth at the image in his mind. The digression didn’t last long, and he quickly centered his thoughts on the present. “Where’s your son? I thought he was to be here, too.”
    â€œUnfortunately, Trey’s been held up.” Just why or how, Jessy didn’t know, but she intended to find out before the day was over.
    â€œIt’s probably all that traffic from the parade,” Avery concluded. “I thought we were never going to get here from the airport. The town’s jammed with people.”
    â€œIt always is, on the third weekend in May,” Jessy said as the door opened behind her and Trey walked in.
    â€œSorry I’m late.” He crossed directly to an empty chair and slipped off his hat. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
    â€œNot at all,” Walters assured him and introduced him to his associate.
    â€œGot caught in that traffic, did you?” Avery guessed as they shook hands.
    â€œActually, I spilled coffee all over my shirt so I had to go back to the motel at the last minute and change into something dry.”
    Which was the truth, as far as it went. Trey simply omitted thepart that dealt with Sloan and how easy it had been to lose track of time when he was with her. Indeed, it was where he wanted to be that very moment—with Sloan. The knowledge that she would be leaving when the weekend was over only made that feeling more urgent.
    â€œI suppose you’ll be riding some of those broncs this afternoon,” Walters guessed.
    â€œNo sir.” Trey helped himself to some coffee. “The ranch has put together a team to compete in the wild horse race, and I’m one of the members of that. Ropin’ is more my line than rough stock.”
    â€œQuint mentioned the two of you used to do a lot of team roping events,” Avery remarked.
    â€œWe were a hard pair to beat.” There was no boast in his words, just a statement of fact. “But with Quint heading up the Cee Bar Ranch down in Texas for us, that’s past history.”
    The reference to Quint served to redirect all their thoughts to the matter at hand. It was at Quint’s suggestion that the investigation had been started some five months ago after Rutledge’s efforts to force a sale of the Cee Bar Ranch had extended to infecting the Cee Bar cattle with anthrax.
    At the time, all the evidence against Rutledge was circumstantial. As a former ATF agent for the Treasury Department, Quint hoped an investigation would uncover something more concrete. He had also recommended that all of Rutledge’s past and present activities be scrutinized for other evidence of wrongdoing.
    â€œShall we get started?” Avery suggested, pulling a folder from his briefcase.
    At a nod from Jessy, he started his report with a summary of all the information obtained. When there was documentation, such as laboratory tests that identified the anthrax as a manufactured strain, he produced it.
    Most of it Trey had heard before. His thoughts soon strayed to Sloan, wondering where she was and what she was doing. He had asked her to have a late lunch with him, but she had vetoed the idea, reminding him that she needed to be at the rodeo grounds assoon as the parade was over and that she’d probably grab a quick bite there.
    â€œWe’re ninety-nine percent sure,” Walters was saying, “that we know which laboratory was the source of the anthrax spores that infected your cattle. We can link