CHAPTER 301

Late Thursday morning, Quinn was wrenching on an old tractor outside the barn when a Crook County sheriff’s car pulled up. He wiped his hands on a rag and squinted at the familiar driver.

His cousin, Cam McKay, had signed on as a deputy after his return from Iraq. The door opened and all six-foot-five inches of Cam unfolded from the vehicle.

“Mornin’,” Quinn said.

“Mornin’, Q,” Cam replied, slamming the door.

Cam’s limp was noticeable as he ambled over. Quinn focused his attention on Cam’s face rather than his disability. “Out makin’ the rounds today, Deputy McKay?”

“I wish. Is Libby around?”

“Nah. She’s at a conference in Cheyenne all week.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“This.” Cam held up an envelope. “Why I’m serving you with papers from Ginger Paulson, Attorney-at-Law.”

Quinn’s stomach pitched. “You’re shittin’ me.”

“Nope. Sorry.” Cam passed over the envelope. “This part of my job sucks worse than dodging bullets.”

“When did you get this?” Quinn asked as he ripped the flap