Warren Telford bellowed. Ed winced as he sat down. “Who told you to do something that asinine?” “Um, you did, sir,” Ed said in a shaky voice. Telford glared at him through the billow of cigar smoke. “I believe I told you to put a scare into them, not cause a stampede! You fucking idiot!” He rubbed his sweating brow. “You see, Ed,” he said very calmly, “the purpose of a stampede is to take them by surprise and have the cattle scattered all over the county. It’s best done at night,” he explained slowly as if poor Ed was a moron. Ed nodded and looked as though he had an excellent idea. Telford held up his hand. “No. Do you think Tess Rawlins is stupid enough to leave the herd unattended at night now? The element of surprise is gone...” With that, the phone rang. “Mr. Telford, Mr. Collins on line two.” “Get out of here, Ed. You’ve done enough for one day.” Ed rose and made a hasty retreat. “Collins? What have you got?” “Nothing so far. I can’t find anything on a Redmond in Portland killed in the time frame you asked.
