One look at Samuel and she disappeared toward the kitchen without questions.
Within minutes hot coffee arrived.
Bread.
A towel.
Samuel sat at the table.
Hands shaking.
Vincent remained standing.
“Talk.”
Samuel looked at Khloe.
“You found it.”
“What?”
“The second company.”
Khloe sat across from him.
“Yes.”
Samuel laughed weakly.
“Should’ve known.”
Vincent asked:
“What did Paulie do?”
Samuel looked at him.
“More than steal money.”
“How much more?”
Samuel swallowed.
“Your father’s land.”
Vincent became still.
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
“What land?”
“The southern mineral parcel.”
Vincent frowned.
Costa Ranch controlled cattle country.
No valuable mine operated on it.
“Useless shale.”
“That’s what everyone thought.”
Samuel looked toward the window.
“Until the railway survey.”
Khloe leaned forward.
“What survey?”
“A spur line.”
Vincent’s pulse changed.
Samuel continued.
“Proposed route runs through your southern tract.”
“How do you know?”
“Paulie showed me a map by mistake.”
“When?”
“Seven months ago.”
“And you said something.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Samuel laughed.
“He told me I had two choices.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“Leave or?”
“Be accused of stealing.”
Khloe looked toward Vincent.
Samuel continued.
“I left.”
Vincent’s voice hardened.
“You should’ve come to me.”
Samuel’s anger appeared.
“I tried.”
Silence.
“What?”
“Three letters.”
Vincent stared.
“I never received them.”
“I know.”
“Who intercepted them?”
Samuel did not answer.
He did not need to.
Paulie.
Khloe asked:
“Why would the rail route matter this much?”
Samuel looked at her.
“Because the land isn’t worth cattle money anymore.”
“How much?”
“Rail company paid preliminary option prices to two neighboring ranches.”
Vincent waited.
Samuel gave the number.
“Forty dollars an acre.”
Khloe inhaled sharply.
Vincent’s southern parcel contained nearly eleven thousand acres.
Even a fraction taken as right-of-way—
He calculated.
Then understood why someone risked thirty-eight thousand.
Why forge deeds.
Why create Costa Holdings.
Why move grazing land first.
It was not the theft itself.
The money funded the legal machinery required to steal something much larger.
“Who owns the fake company?” Vincent asked.
Samuel looked at Khloe.
Then at him.
“You’re not going to like the answer.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
“Paulie?”
Samuel shook his head.
Khloe went still.
“Then who?”
Samuel stared directly at Vincent.
“Your brother.”
The kitchen became silent.
Vincent heard the rain.
Nothing else.
“My brother is dead.”
Samuel swallowed.
“No.”
Vincent stared.
“Marco died twelve years ago.”
“No body was found.”
“His horse came back covered in blood.”
Samuel looked terrified now.
“Paulie has been meeting him for eighteen months.”
Vincent’s chair scraped across the floor when he stepped backward.
Khloe stood.
“Vincent.”
He did not hear her.
Marco.
Older by three years.
Wild.
Charming.
Always angry that their father chose Vincent to run the ranch.
Twelve years ago, Marco disappeared during a winter ride.
His horse returned injured.