Eli said as he slung a backpack into his truck. He nodded toward Clint and Clay. “The boys and I are going to check it out.” Jace frowned. “But what about Gavin McKinley and Isaac Woolly?” Eli put a hand on his shoulder. “We haven’t found anything.” “Not yet,” Jace said, “but we know there are poachers in the area. They’re killing animals for their antlers and horns and dumping the bodies everywhere.” “Not everywhere,” Eli corrected. “Most of the carcasses have all been found on the Collins property.” “Because they want the Collinses to take the blame,” Jace said, balling his fists at his side. “Or me.” “Possibly both,” Eli said with a nod. “Your endorsement won’t mean much if the bad guys can tarnish your name by claiming you’re a poacher. They’ll kill two birds with one stone—use you to bring down your mother’s campaign and bring down the Collins ranch in the process.”
