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desk were tossed aside.
    â€œSomebody’s already tried to spruce things up inhere,” he said, taking in the scattered equipment and strewn papers. “Or does it always look like this?”
    â€œIt wasn’t like this yesterday before closing or my volunteers would have reported it,” she said, turning to him with her hands on her hips. “Did you do this, Anderson? Is that why you kept asking me about where I get my funding? You still think I might be involved with these criminals? Were you in here looking for evidence or something?”
    Anderson would never understand the female logic or how a woman could ask so many questions at one time and expect a man to remember each one. Putting his hands on his hips, he said, “First, I asked about your funding because I was impressed with how you handle all of this and I wanted to help. And as far as trashing your place—now why would I do that and leave it like this? That would be pretty dumb on my part, wouldn’t it?”
    Jennifer frowned at him, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess it would.” Letting out a huff of breath, she shook her head, then leaned back against the door. “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to being under scrutiny all the time. I keep jumping to the wrong conclusions about all of this and…about you.”
    Anderson heard the sincerity in her words and re minded himself he was a Christian after all. He couldn’t lash out at her even if she did tend to read him the wrong way. “Understood.”
    She gave him an apologetic glance. “So I wonder who decided to reshuffle my already disorganized stuff.”
    Anderson studied the mess for a minute then said, “Someone who’s looking for more than evidence againstyour operation, Jennifer. I think we’ve been hit again by one of the drug runners. Cutting the fence and now this. They’ve seen your work crew back there near their drop site and they’re not happy about it.”
    â€œBut why mess up the tack room?”
    â€œThey were probably trying to scare you, or maybe they think you have something of theirs. Something they left behind.” He glanced around again. “Or, this could just be a deterrent, a way of keeping you occupied. Which means I need to get back out to the site as soon as possible.”
    She looked frightened for the first time since he’d arrived here. “And that makes me a target, right?”
    He nodded. “You became a target the minute you bought that land and started building that pen. But this just upped the ante.”

FOUR
    J ennifer finished clearing the last of the horse stalls, her work a comfort that helped push away the uneasiness floating over her like dust balls. Looking around, she noted that the stable was clean now. That would last a couple of days then she’d have to do this all over again. Busy work tended to keep her mind off everything else and that was probably why she was right in the middle of a criminal investigation. She had a tendency to focus on one thing to the point of blocking out everything around her. She’d learned this technique after her parents had divorced. It was a coping mechanism, but now, it was bringing trouble to her door. She should have been more vigilant in guarding her property.
    I don’t have a life, she thought, gritting her teeth to that truth. She’d pretty much blocked out everything and everyone but her work. Even God.
    â€œMight need to rethink that one,” she mumbled to her gelding Chestnut. “I’ve sure had a wake-up call now and I hear you, Lord.”
    The big horse nosed at her arm, his deep brown eyes gazing down at her in expectation of either a treat or a rubdown.
    Anderson peeped around a stall. “I’ve cleaned up the tack room, taken photos of the broken lock and a video overview for evidence, dusted it for prints and checked in with my captain to give a report. I’ve also written a