The broke old farmer bought the dying mare for $200. Then the millionaire arrived with a sheriff-and the horse hid behind the old man like she knew exactly who had hurt her

beside the equipment shed, and finally Wade.

“Mr. Callahan?” he asked.

Wade drew the blade across the stone. “You found him.”

“My name is Everett Hale. I represent Preston Mallory.”

The knife made another soft scrape. Wade did not invite him closer.

Hale walked to the bottom of the steps and offered a business card. Wade let him hold it there until the continue reading …