Page 22 of August’s Cowboy Braxton

Addison's phone buzzed. She looked at the screen. Then showed it to me.

You should have left it alone.

The number was blocked, but the photograph attached wasn't.

It was a grainy image of Addison and me in the storage area five minutes ago. Like someone had tapped into the feed. Someone had been watching. And they wanted us to know it.

CHAPTER 6

ADDISON

I stared at the photograph on my phone screen until my eyes burned.

"We need to leave." Braxton's voice came from somewhere behind me. "Now."

I couldn't move. The empty shelf where the album had been seemed louder than anything else in the room.

"Addison."

"She wouldn't do this."

“She had access.”

“So did other people.” I shook my head, still not wanting to believe him.

“She knew about the photograph.”

“That still doesn’t make her guilty.” I turned on him. "You don't know her."

"I know evidence."

"Evidence can be wrong."

"Can it?"

The question sat between us like a minefield I didn’t want to wade into.

Braxton moved past me and checked the rest of the storage area. He was methodical and thorough. Looking for anything else that might be missing.

I watched him work and something sharp twisted behind my ribs. He was right. Evie had access and the album was gone. The messages had started after I told her about the photograph. The tracker had been in my crown case—something Evie had access to every single time we traveled together.

But she was also the person who taught me how to survive this life. Who showed up when my own mother told me rodeo queens were just pretty girls playing dress-up. Who stayed when everyone else got tired of the work behind the crown.

"Nothing else is missing." Braxton straightened. "Whoever took the album knew exactly what they wanted."

"Cedar Draw."

"Yeah."

"So they left everything else. All the other rodeo history. All the other photographs."

"They only wanted evidence about Cedar Draw."

Which meant someone was willing to break into a public building during a storm, steal historical records, and threaten us to keep whatever happened at Cedar Draw buried.

My phone buzzed again. I looked at the screen.

Be a smart girl. Go home and forget what you found.