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“Looks like the intruder was busy.”
    Everett Fletcher nodded. “Apparently. But how can we know if he got whatever it was he came for?”
    “You think someone’s looking for money?”
    “I’m sure he wouldn’t turn up his nose at it. But Porter was meticulous about his profit-and-loss records. Anybody who knew him would know that he believed in keeping his money in the bank in Paintbrush. ” The police chief pointed. “From the looks of this mess, our intruder was after something else. A legal document maybe. That seems the most likely reason to break into a dead man’s house and rifle through his files.”
    Jake glanced at Meg. “Do you have a copy of your father’s will?”
    She shook her head. “My father and I never communicated. But Chief Fletcher said that Judge Bolton handled my father’s legal work.” She paused to look at the police chief to fill in the blanks for her.
    Everett Fletcher nodded. “Kirby Bolton was your father’s lawyer long before he became a judge. If anybody would know about a will, it would be Kirby.”
    “Or Flora.” Seeing Meg’s arched brow, Jake added with a smile, “Flora owns the diner in town. She knows what happens in this part of Wyoming as soon as it occurs, and considers it her solemn duty to spread the news as fast as is humanly possible. Folks in Paintbrush don’t need to read a newspaper or watch a TV news show. They just drop by Flora’s Diner.”
    A smile touched Meg’s lips before the look of worry returned. “I remember Flora from my childhood. But, if it’s well-known that Judge Bolton has my father’s legal documents, why would an intruder want to break in here?”
    The chief shrugged. “Maybe he figures your father kept other things. Coins. Collectibles. I can’t really say, Miss Stanford. Could your mother fill you in on some of your father’s background?”
    “My mother is dead,” she said matter-of-factly. “I hope you’ll consider sending an officer to patrol the area until this is resolved.”
    Chief Fletcher was already shaking his head. “This isn’t Washington, Miss Stanford. I don’t have an officer I can spare—”
    “I’m not asking for a full-time bodyguard. But at least at night—”
    “You don’t understand. I’m the only lawman around here. Just me. My only deputy assistant, Burk Truman, fills in while I grab some sleep. If he needs backup, he calls me at home. As you can see, I’m spread thin as it is. I can’t possibly promise to be out here for even one night. But I’d like to give you Thibault Baxter’s number. He owns the paint and hardware store in Paintbrush, and he’d be happy to come out and change these locks for you.”
    “Thank you.” She turned away, but not before Jake saw the stricken look in her eyes. It was obvious that she was feeling completely out of her element.
    “Miss Stanford…”
    Before Everett could finish, Jake put a hand on his shoulder and gave a quick shake of his head.
    He kept his tone soft and easy. “I came in here to let you know that I’ll be taking Shadow to my place.”
    She whirled. “You mean you can’t treat him and you’re going to…put him down?”
    “Not at all. What I’m saying is that this is a nasty infection that hasn’t responded to my first line of treatment, so I want the colt close, where I can keep an eye on him. I’ve asked Cory to ride along and help Shadow settle in. I think you should join us.”
    When she seemed about to refuse he added, “Chief Fletcher will tell you that our cook and housekeeper serve some of the finest food around. You’ve had a lot to handle in just a matter of days. Why don’t you and Cory take a break from all this, and enjoy a good meal while you have the opportunity?”
    The chief seemed relieved for the distraction. “Jake’s not just bragging, Miss Stanford. I find an excuse to stop by the Conway ranch at mealtime whenever I can. Between Phoebe’s pot roast and Ela’s corn bread, those two would put those