Colter frowned. He was remembering something he’d heard from one of the local lawmen, about a man named Dalton Kirk, up in Wyoming, whose wife had something of a reputation for knowing things she shouldn’t.

“You know,” he said after a minute, “that isn’t a half-bad idea.”

“Do you know somebody who has that ability?” Mrs. Martin asked.

“In fact,” he replied with a smile, “I think I do. Thanks for the suggestion.” He added that he was going to put them under immediate protection as material witnesses in a possible murder case. That would involve federal marshals, and even Morris wouldn’t be crazy enough to go up against those guys. He made the call before he left the hospital and was assured that an agent would be on his way over before the Martins ever left the area.

He found Lieutenant Rick Marquez in the middle of a staff meeting, so he lingered around the hall until the meeting was over.

Marquez grinned at him. “Loitering is prohibited.”

“I’m not loitering. I’m investigating your floors to see if anybody dropped pocket change in the cracks.”

Marquez burst out laughing. “No chance. It would be snapped up before you could reach for it. We’re all underfunded and underpaid in law enforcement, but we do the job because we love it.”

“All true.”

“So, what can I do for you?” he asked, leading Colter into his office.

“We had an assault on a material witness today. Morris Duffy and a couple of his cohorts burst into a home owned by the Martins and roughed the old man up pretty good. I persuaded the Martins to take out a warrant for Duffy’s arrest, for assault.”

“Why did Duffy and his friends attack the Martins?” Marquez asked.

“Because Duffy’s trying to locate his stepbrother, as well as the stepsister whose testimony put him in jail for five years,” he said simply. “He’s also a suspect in the disappearance of the stepsister’s grandfather, Dalton Reed, five years ago.”

“They’re Clancey’s relatives,” Marquez said, making the connection. “Are she and her little brother safe?”

He nodded. “They’re staying at the ranch with me. Morris won’t get within binocular distance, even if he finds out where they are. I’ve got Chet Billings somewhere on the property with a sniper kit.”

Marquez let out a whistle. “Billings was up here with Rourke during a similar case, helping protect a vet’s assistant, Cappie Drake, from Jacobsville whose brother was assaulted by her former boyfriend. The perp threatened Cappie, too. You might know her. She’s married to Dr. Bentley Rydel.”

“Miss Kitty, my cat, is Bentley’s patient,” he said with a grin. “I know Cappie. Her brother recovered nicely from the assault, even managed to walk again after surgery. He’s a tactics expert in a group of international mercs headed by a man named Bojo. They’re good people.”