She caught her breath. "Am I? How so?"

"You sure do know plenty of people I can help," he noted coolly.

She bit her lip. "Oh, that. I was asked about jobs here, that's all. I don't even know the man who wanted the managerial position-he's a friend of a friend. And the man who wants the land is a good friend of my father's. My father worked in a textile corporation, you know. He was quite well-known in certain circles."

He was a cloth cutter, but Mallory wasn't saying it. He'd keep his own counsel. There was something about Gelly that started to ring alarm bells in his brain. He just smiled and asked her where she'd like to eat after the movie let out.

BUT LATER HE SPOKE TO TANK.

"What do you really think of Gelly?" he asked when they were sipping coffee alone at the kitchen table. They rarely had it late at night, but they were helping with calving and it was a long and tedious job that never seemed to end when it was bedtime.

Tank's dark eyes narrowed. "I don't think about her, if I can help it. Why?"

"She's got a friend who wants us to sell him some scrubland we own, that tract on the northern boundary that we can't run cattle on. She says it's just worthless land. He's down on his luck and wants us to sell it to him cheap."

Tank pursed his lips. "Wasn't that the same land that the oil company had its eye on for fracking and we refused to lease it to them?"

Mallory raised his head. His eyes narrowed. "The very same."

"I wonder if her friend has any ties to the oil and gas industry."

"I wonder," Mallory repeated, and he didn't smile.

"You were asking someone about phone records," Tank added. "May I ask why?"

He shifted restlessly and sipped coffee. "Morie called that superior-court-judge friend of Cane's in Texas late at night."

Tank's eyes lifted. "Danny Brannt?"

Mallory looked murderous. "Brannt?"

"Yes. His brother is Kingston Brannt. He has an empire down in Texas. Runs Santa Gertrudis cattle that make ours look like mongrels by comparison."

"Morie's last name is Brannt," Mallory replied thoughtfully.

"Yes, but there's no relation. I asked Danny. He said it's one of the most common names in his part of Texas." He added with a smile, "Like Smith in other places. Coincidence. Nothing more."

"Really?"

"Look at Morie, for God's sake," Tank replied. "She's sweet, but she's poor as Job's turkey, can't you see? She didn't even have a decent cell phone until we got one for her."

Mallory felt a chill. "She's courting a judge," he said. "I think she may be looking for a way to sue us."

"You tar and feather her every chance you get, don't you?" Tank replied. "I wonder why."

"Gelly thinks she's up to something."

"Yes? Well, I think Gelly's up to something, and to your detriment." He finished his coffee. "Better watch your step."

"Maybe so," he conceded after a minute. He finished his own coffee. "Guess we'd better grab a little sleep while we can," he added.

Tank nodded his agreement. "Good advice."

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE NEXT DAY, Morie found an excuse to talk to Tank after they moved cattle from one pasture to another.

"I need to tell you something. I don't quite know how," she said when they were resting for a minute with thermoses full of coffee while the cattle grazed in their new fenced area.

He pushed his hat back and wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm. "Go ahead."

She glanced around to make sure nobody was near enough to hear. "Joe Bascomb was at the line cabin," she said.

"What? Good Lord, girl...!"

"He didn't hurt me. He didn't even really threaten me," she said. "He was hungry, so I gave him a biscuit and some water. He's in awful shape."

He winced. "He was my friend. I don't believe he could deliberately kill anybody."

"Neither do I. He said that his attorney gave him up when he escaped." She hesitated. "He said there was a relative of the dead man on the jury that convicted him. That should be grounds for a retrial, shouldn't it?"

He glanced at her curiously. "That's why you called the judge in Texas, isn't it?"

She laughed ruefully. "Yes," she admitted.

"What did he say?"

"That it should be grounds for a retrial. But Joe needs to turn himself in, and he needs a new attorney."

"I'd pay for one myself if I could find anybody locally who'd agree to defend him. The dead man's family is much loved here," he added. "Nobody thinks the victim was a valuable member of society, but his family is powerful. Not many local attorneys want the stigma of defending his killer."

"The judge might know somebody who'd do it pro bono," she added.

"What did you do to talk him into that?" he exclaimed.

"I appealed to his sense of justice. He's a very nice man. He came into the kitchen to compliment the cook on the food. Whoever thinks to do that at a party?" she added, having been to dozens where the food was taken for granted.

"He must be a nice man," he agreed with a smile. "I'll see what I can do." He sobered. "But don't you talk to Joe again, regardless of the circumstances. You get on your horse and leave. It's dangerous, abetting an escaped criminal. I think he's innocent, but the court judged him guilty."