He was about to dial her number when his foreman’s name appeared on the screen.
“Hey, Carl,” he said, picking up. “What’s up?”
“Found another one of your dad’s horses out in the south pasture. I sent Ivan and Seth out there to pick up the carcass. No sense encouraging more of the same.”
“Good thinking.” Nate ran a hand through his hair, wondering which horse it had been and how to break the news to his father. “What do you reckon, bear or cougar?”
“Cougar, most likely. Bear would have left a far bigger mess.”
Carl was right. Bears were greedy, sloppy assassins that often began feeding before their quarry was dead. Cats, even when near-starved, preferred to kill with a bite to the back of the neck. And because the opportunistic felines didn’t like feeding out in the open, they tended to drag uneaten carcasses as far as possible from the kill site and cover them with grass, pine needles or dirt, preserving the meat for a future meal and reducing the chance that another predator might sniff it out and steal it.
“My guess is this cat was forced into new territory by a bigger, better fighter,” Carl said.
“Either that,” Nate said, “or those so-called animal experts captured and tried to relocate it, and now it’s scoping out new hunting ground.”
“Well, we got plenty of pictures, in case Colorado Parks and Wildlife demands proof if we have to take drastic measures.”
“Good, good,” Nate said. “You boys keep your wits about you and rifles and sidearms at the ready, you hear?”
“Don’t worry, boss. We’re like that credit card company—‘Never leave the bunkhouse without ’em.’”
“I CAN’T TELL you how much I appreciate this.”
Stuart returned his dog-eared magazine to the stack on the bank’s waiting room table. “Hey, anything for my big sister. Even putting on my uniform eight hours before my shift starts.” Yawning, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “So tell me again why I’m here?”
“Moral support. No one would say no to me with a police officer present. Not even a banker!”
“I hate to break it to you, but disrespect isn’t against the law.” He winced slightly. “Neither is turning down a borrower who has no collateral.”
When it had come time to split their grandparents’ assets, they’d flipped a coin. Stuart called tails, giving him ownership of the condo in Vail.
“I have Pinewood,” she countered. Eden pictured their grandparents’ house and groaned. “Then again, point taken.” She took a deep, shaky breath. “Do I look as petrified as I feel? Be honest, I can take it.”
Stuart studied her face for a moment. “Just remember what Gramps taught us—always repeat a question in your head before answering it out loud. And sit on your hands.”
“He never said... Oh, I get it,” she said. “So Mr. Judson won’t see them shaking.”
“Or those raggedy cuticles.”
Eden gave Stuart’s shoulder a playful poke. “Thanks, Stewie. That’s the way to show support.”
“Hey, what do you expect from a sleep-deprived, overworked, underpaid cop?”
The door beside them opened, startling them both.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Quinn kids,” the banker said, extending a meaty hand. “Good to see you. How long has it been? Ten, fifteen years?”
“Too long,” the siblings harmonized as he ushered them into his plush office.
Mr. Judson’s black leather chair squealed when he filled it with his considerable bulk. He spent a few moments catching up, asking what they’d been doing in the years since losing their grandparents. He was semiretired, he told them, and spent as much time as possible skiing in Aspen or sailing at Tahoe. And then he sat back and smoothed the nonexistent hair on his shiny head.
“Now,” he said, flashing a salesman-like smile, “what can I do for the two of you?”
Eden sat up straighter. “As I told the receptionist when I made the appointment, I’d like to discuss a loan.”
Frowning, he adjusted his black-framed glasses. “Yes, yes she did make note of that.” He grabbed a sleek silver pen from the marble holder on his desk and glanced at Stuart before meeting Eden’s eyes. “My goodness, dear girl. How much do you need that you felt it necessary to bring a gun-toting companion?”
While he laughed at his own joke, Eden remembered Stuart’s advice and repeated the question internally. “Twenty thousand,” she said, tucking her fingertips under her thighs.
The gleaming ballpoint went click-click as Judson raised one bushy eyebrow. “More than I expected. What, exactly, is the loan for?”
Eden kept her explanation brief and to the point: Pinewood’s tenants had left behind a lot of damage, which had to be repaired before it would pass a city inspection in the event the sale of Latimer House forced her and the boys to relocate.
“For the most part,” she concluded, “the money will buy paint and replace missing appliances and light fixtures.”
Click-click. “With twenty grand, you can buy a lot of lamps.”
Judson slid open a desk drawer and removed a manila folder labeled Quinn.
“I had a feeling Pinewood might have prompted this meeting, so I drove by the house on my way home last evening. And the minute I arrived this morning, I perused your file.” Removing his glasses, he opened the folder. “As I recall, your grandfather’s will specified that upon his death, his life insurance was to pay off the mortgage, so that your grandmother would never have to worry about keeping a roof over her head.”
“And we abided by his wishes to the letter,” Stuart said. “So your point is...?”
The banker ignored Stuart’s impatient tone. “I understand you hired Templeton Property Management to oversee the house and grounds?”
“Yes...”
“That’s odd. He made no mention of damage to the house or grounds.”
“You spoke with him?”
“Well, of course I spoke with him. It’s my job to gather all the facts to look out for our investors’ and depositors’ best interests.”
I’ll bet Joe didn’t tell you what he promised—in writing! “And did Joe provide any helpful facts?”
“No, not really.” Judson smirked. “He didn’t say much of anything, except that you threatened to sue him.” Click-click.
Eden’s pre-meeting jitters had turned into full-blown panic. “I didn’t threaten to sue. Exactly.”
“If we can arrange a loan—and at this stage, I can’t promise that—what collateral can you present? Property? Vehicles? Investments? Savings?”
Since every penny to her name was right here in his bank, Judson already knew the answers. Eden decided his questions were rhetorical, and felt no obligation to reply.
Click-click. “Says here that numerous complaints were registered against the boys who reside at Latimer House. Litter, noise ordinance