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Cartwell were scattered about. Those images were familiar. Given the fact they had tiny pinholes in the corners, Cash believed the snapshots may have been those Stephen Pratchert had once displayed on his prison cell wall.
    Maybe this was where Stephen Pratchert spent the last days of his life. He wondered why the groundskeeper had seemingly cleaned around all of the personal effects left behind, particularly since the property had been abandoned for over seven years.
    Stilled by what he saw in the glossy images, Cash couldn’t escape a nagging suspicion that maybe a groundskeeper hadn’t been employed by Colony. Perhaps the Cartwell woman had been there. If so, would she return again?
    Cash went rigid. His cock throbbed in agitation. He’d become accustomed to his growing anxiety whenever he thought of her. The pictures only made him long for her more. Trixie held his future in the palm of her hand, and soon she would realize how much she meant to him.
    Without a doubt, one day they would be together forever. It was written in stone, sealed as his fate. And Cash believed in sanctified destinies.
    “Soon, Trixie,” he muttered, growing more anxious by the second as he glanced around at the apartment’s appointments. He paid closer attention to details then.
    The color scheme and décor suggested a woman had decorated the place. There were matching rose pillows with needlepoint stitching. Large frames housed floral prints and fake potted plants added character to every corner.
    “That’s it. That’s why these quarters are well maintained.”
    Trixie Cartwell had been there. It was the only explanation for the well-kept grounds and various memorabilia left behind.
    There wasn’t a groundskeeper. The reason everything looked untouched was because Trixie Cartwell couldn’t let go of the past. And even though Mitch Colony had been in prison, his work at Cow Camp had not been in vain.
    Trixie must’ve returned there on occasion. She must’ve kept things in running order, on the chance Mitch was freed on short notice. They were friends, after all. Weren’t they?
    Cash slipped his hand down the front of his slacks and wrapped his flaccid cock in a loose fist. He narrowed his gaze on his favorite Trixie image and pumped his dick, determined to make love to her right then and there. Some might say the fucking was only an illusion, but later he’d share these very special memories with the woman of his dreams.
    “Ah yes. If only you were here, my darling.”
    He moistened his lips and tried to imagine her before him. She was standing on the dock wearing white-washed denim shorts and a fitted navy halter, tied under her perky breasts. She struck an inviting pose with her index finger crooked. The come-hither look was designed to seduce a man—perhaps even him.
    “Ah, baby lady. Mitch didn’t return for you, but I’m here instead. And I promise, my love, I will wait for you. One day soon, we’ll be together for the rest of all time.”

Chapter Four
     
    Brock tossed the last of the luggage in their SUV and turned to Trixie, now saying good-bye to Winter and Cazeron.
    “Is that everything?” Rory asked, following Brock back to the house.
    “I believe so,” Brock replied right as his cell phone buzzed in his pocket.
    “Who’s calling at this time of the morning?”
    “Bertie from Cow Camp,” Brock replied. “Let me tell her we’ll be staying there for a bit and I’ll be right out.”
    “This is Brock Sheldon,” he said, taking the call.
    “Brock, this is Bertie. I wanted to touch base. Claude had a heart attack.”
    “Oh, Bertie, I’m sorry to hear that.” Bertie and Claude had taken care of Cow Camp for nearly three decades. The older couple had originally worked for Mitch’s parents.
    “Well, it’s gonna be just fine,” she said, forever the optimist. “The doctor said this was a little warning sent from above. That’s the way we’re gonna look at this thing, but I wanted you to know that I