Electric Peak: A Suspenseful Montana Thriller Set In The Shadow of Yellowstone (A Rick Morrand Mystery Book 3) by Peter J. Ryan

Author:Peter J. Ryan [Ryan, Peter J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackhawk Press
Published: 2026-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26

Rick drove south along the Yellowstone on Friday shortly after breakfast, his first destination being the Dove Mountain Ranch. He chose the less-trafficked Route 540, which mimicked the flow of the river, weaving a serpentine path through lush green cottonwood trees, their leaves tickled by a tender breeze. If someone could bottle a Montana morning, he thought, they’d sell out in an instant. Sunlight glinted off the river, the riffles flickering like gold sequins on a flowing formal gown. He inhaled the crisp morning air through his open window, intoxicated by the sweet scent of the long, dew-tipped native grass. Rain had been generous and kind throughout the season, limiting wildfires and leaving the valley lush and green.

Mitch Percival’s spread totaled roughly two thousand acres that extended from the forest to the valley floor. The ranch had been in his family for three generations, and its sole purpose was raising and harvesting a yearly herd of approximately six hundred cattle, an endeavor that seemed to become more perilous with each passing year. It was understandable for Mitch to consider a helicopter buzzing his animals a threat to his treasured commodity.

Rick was following the two-track up toward the main house when he spotted Mitch approaching him on the back of a tall chestnut, the sixty-something cowboy likely three or more hours into his workday. Mitch dismounted when Rick rolled to a stop, his bow-legged gait easing him toward the sheriff’s vehicle.

“Morning, sir,” the man said, removing his worn yellow leather work glove and shaking Rick’s hand through the open window. “Thank you for coming down.”

“Sorry for your trouble, Mitch,” Rick said. “I understand it’s been a little noisy.”

Mitch nodded, his deep-set eyes squinting into the morning light from beneath his sweat-stained straw hat. His round face was a catcher’s mitt weathered by years of sun and wind. He tugged a can of Copenhagen from the back pocket of his jeans, placed a chunk between his cheek and gum, then offered a dip to Rick, who politely declined. “As I told Helen, this same chopper has come by at least three times in the last couple of weeks,” he said. “It circled over my place before landing over at the Two Diamond. With my cattle in gestation, the noise can be a bit unsettling.”

Rick adjusted his Stetson and stared out his windshield. Mitch’s border collie was relentlessly barking at a magpie, the bird’s indigo-tinged wings twitching slightly as it sat safely on a fencepost with no plans to relocate. “You’re positive it landed at the Two Diamond?” Rick asked, turning toward Mitch.

“No question,” the rancher answered. “I planned to go over and talk to them about it, but my wife vetoed that idea, given the Hutchinson woman’s reputation.”

“What reputation is that?”

“It’s been said she’s dropped her bloomers for a few fellas in the valley. Loretta and I have been married forty-two years. I explained I’m too old, fat, and ugly to interest a younger woman, but she apparently doesn’t agree.”

“Did you ever meet Samuel Hutchinson?”

“Only once,” Mitch said.

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