Page 29 of Knox
Glo frowned at him. “Why on earth would she go to the stock barn?”
He held up a hand. “Step back there, Columbo. I saw her come out of there last night. Maybe when she took off last night, she ended up there?” He lifted a shoulder.
She glanced at the barn. Back at Tate. “I don’t want to waste our time—”
“We’re wasting time standing here arguing.” He turned, as if he didn’t care if she followed him, and stalked back toward the barn.
Fine. She caught up to him and walked in silence to the barn.
The side door was unlocked, and Tate took out his phone and flicked on the flashlight. They’d entered at the far end of the barn, where they kept the bulls, and the odor of bovine flesh, manure, and the earthy scent of hay and straw rose around her.
“Reminds me of my grandfather’s place,” she said quietly.
“Farmer?”
“Owner. Thoroughbreds. In Tennessee.”
He glanced at her, gave her a look she couldn’t read. “Really.”
“Yes. Listen, Dr. Phil, there are too many layers here for you to dissect, so don’t try. Let’s just find my friend.”
His eyes narrowed, as if he might be up for the challenge, and shoot, but that little stir of something forbidden only took hold.
No. Tate Marshall was absolutely the last, very last person she should let into her life.
But oh, her mother would hate him.
“It smells like our barn too. My brother breeds bucking bulls for the Marshall Triple M. In fact, one of our bulls was in the arena tonight.” He was shining his light into the stalls. A few thousand-pound-plus bulls lay in repose, hulking bodies heaving in slumber. A few raised horned heads and considered them with glassy eyes.
A handful of the pens were empty but filled with fresh straw.
He stopped at an intersection. “Hot Pete is housed down here.” He shot his light down to the end of the row.
A door stood open, and the light landed on a figure sitting in the fresh straw, her legs drawn up, her head in her arms.
“Kelsey,” Glo said and touched Tate’s arm. “Stay here.”
“Aye, aye, boss.”
She ignored him and headed down the aisle. She noticed he didn’t exactly obey her, coming up behind her to shine the light on Kelsey.
Who raised her head, her eyes wide. Her gaze flickered past Glo to Tate, then back.
“Hey,” Glo said softly, crouching. “How’re you doing? I was worried.”
Kelsey leaned her head back against the wooden slats of the pen. “Sorry. I just had to get out of there. So much…”
“I get it.” Glo came into the pen, searched for a cow pie, but found the straw fresh. She kneeled before Kelsey.
“I don’t know why I came here. I used to go to the barn when…well, before. When I was a kid, and it was just instinct, I guess.”
“Tate said you came here last night.”
Kelsey glanced at him standing a few feet away, holding the light down to puddle on the dirt floor. “Tate?”
“Knox’s brother. He was working security. Helped pull you out tonight?”
“Right.” She nodded at him. “Hey.”