Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
This was where it all fell apart, but then he’d always known it would.
In a few weeks Bay would be a celebrated artist, a master of the modern Western movement. Shane would be Shane. Brooke’s brothers would start asking her what he brought to the table, and what would she be able to say? He brought multiple orgasms? Her brothers definitely didn’t want to hear that.
“The place was trashed,” Nate said with a rueful sigh. “We already processed the scene. We documented everything, but I hope you’ll be able to tell me if anything’s gone.”
He passed a tablet with a set of pictures on the screen. Shane got a good look at them and his stomach knotted. “They tore up the whole place.”
Max studied the pictures. “No, they didn’t tear anything up, but they were definitely looking for something.” He looked at Shane. “Did you take anything from Kingman?”
Shane was at a loss. “I didn’t take anything. I saw something. I was helping some of the senior hands move what I thought was equipment into the barn where he stores heavy tools.”
“I’m not sure I understand how a new backhoe means Kingman wants to kill you,” Nate observed. “Was he trying to keep it undercover?”
“It wasn’t a backhoe, dummy,” Max said with a frown. “It was guns, and a lot of them.”
Well, he didn’t know about the “a lot of them” part, but it was oddly soothing to have Max accept the story as truth. “I’m almost certain I saw one of those guns the Army uses. He was bringing in a whole bunch of wooden crates and they had writing on the side, but it was in a foreign language.”
Now he had Nate’s attention. “Did you see a country name on it?”
“Yes.” He had told Bay all of this and thought Bay believed him. Now it felt like he was telling the story for the first time. “Belgium. There was another word that looked like it was maybe a point of origin or a person’s name. FN Herstal.”
Max nodded. “We need to find this Herstal person.”
“It’s not a person.” Nate stood up. “Gemma, come in here. I need your big brain to check my foggy one.” He looked back at Shane. “That woman should go on Jeopardy. She knows everything.”
“Not how to spot a douchebag,” Max quipped.
Gemma growled his way as she entered the room. “I knew my ex was a douchebag. He was exactly what I was looking for at the time. It was New York. I didn’t have a lot of choices if I didn’t want an overly ambitious douchebag. Good news is I came to Bliss and found a couple of superhot, completely unambitious dudes who can fix my car and cook my dinner and rock my world. I think your sister is finding the same thing. Especially the getting her world rocked by two hot cowboys without a bank account between them.”
Gemma could also be a little mean. “We have one. It doesn’t have much, but we do have an account.”
Nate ignored him. “Gemma, where are P90s produced?”
Her eyes rolled. “I researched all of this for Nell because she said she didn’t want Henry to be sad. Apparently he had a P90 he loved, and she doesn’t want to stir the John Bishop in him. It’s Belgium. The main manufacturer is Fabrique Nationale Herstal. Publicly traded as FN Herstal. Give me a hard one.”
“Is a P90 a gun? Like the Army uses?” Shane asked.
“Not the US Army. Only Navy SEALs use them regularly. They’re used by a lot of elite units around the world,” Gemma explained.
“Would they have any use when it came to ranching?” Maybe there was an explanation.
Nate had been fiddling with a tablet, and he turned it around and showed it to Shane. “Only if they needed a submachine gun to take care of critters. Is this it? Or did it have a longer barrel?”
Gemma looked over his shoulder. “The standard P90 is restricted in the US. Only law enforcement, military, and people who hold special licenses can buy them. We can look that up, though I can’t think of a reason why a rancher would need one. Otherwise, it would have to be a PS90.”
Nate shook his head. “Do I want to know what Nell’s doing with that information?”
“Writing a magnificent romance about an arms dealer who falls madly in love with a gun control activist. It’s actually kinda dark. I liked it,” Gemma said and pointed at the picture. “Do you remember if the barrel was long or short?”
He’d gotten such a quick glance before the foreman had whisked the big box away and sent Shane back to the bunkhouse. “I think it was short, but it was a quick glance, but I did see the markings on the boxes and it was FN Herstal.”