Once again, many thanks to everyone who read and special thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. I really do appreciate it all.

I forgot to mention last time, but I've used names for the horses that I've read in other stories. I can't remember who originally came up with the names, but the credit belongs to them, not me.

Enjoy!

As Chris had noted, they had still been some distance from McCallum's property and it took the morning to arrive. It might have taken an hour less, had they been able to rouse Ezra from his bedroll at dawn. As it was, it took the threat of Chris' gun and a cup of coffee before a sleepy gambler was ready to face the day.

Just after noon, having arrived on the outskirts of the range around ten that morning, they finally caught their first sight of the household. The ranch house was large and sprawling, tastefully decorated in a modern style that would look out of place on the small homesteads and ranches spread out around Four Corners, speaking as it did of prosperity and elegant luxury. McCallum met them at the door, his men having escorted the three strangers through the ranch land, and upon reading the letter Travis had entrusted to Chris, invited the men in.

Before dismounting, Chris nodded to Vin, who had been viewing the area with a disgusted eye. "See if you can do anything," the gunslinger sighed, recognising what Vin was seeing.

"What are you talking about?" McCallum demanded, glaring at both peacekeepers.

Not a man to be kept waiting or wanting, Ezra surmised.

"Where was ya son last seen?" Chris asked shortly, responding in kind to another authoritative presence challenging his own.

"By the stables. His horse is still there," McCallum added, frowning again when Vin muttered a curse. "What on earth is happening? Travis assured me you knew what you were doing."

"We were hoping you'd have had enough sense to keep the place clear," Chris growled, his own temper swiftly on the rise.

Ezra internally winced. Not a good start. "Sir? If I may? My name is Ezra Standish. You have the good fortune to meet Mr Chris Larabee and Mr Vin Tanner. Mr Tanner, as I'm sure you have surmised from his attire, is something of an expert when it comes to tracking."

McCallum shot a suspicious glance his way. "Tracking."

Keeping a pleasant smile on his face, despite the obvious dismissal of both himself and Vin as unimportant, Ezra bowed his head gracefully. "Yes sir. Should someone have taken your son against his will, there would have undoubtedly been sign of it. Mr Tanner was hoping to be able to work unhindered, but alas, in your no doubt great distress at this unpleasant situation, others seem to have wandered across the area."

"It's a stable," McCallum pointed out.

"Yes, of course," Ezra nodded amicably. "I agree, it couldn't be helped."

McCallum blinked. "It couldn't?"

"Absolutely not," Ezra assured, dismounting and rubbing Chaucer's neck companionably. "But rest secure, I believe the answer to your son's disappearance lies within your own power of recall. We can leave Mr Tanner to his dirt and solve this dilemma together."

"We can?" McCallum wondered. Then, gathering himself, he indicated one of his men take care of the horses while Vin, grinning broadly despite the tough task he now had ahead of him, headed for the mass of footprints, both horse and human.

Gritting his teeth, Chris caught Ezra's shoulder as the southerner made to follow their host into the ranch house. "I'm watching you," he warned.

"I should hope so. Perhaps you may learn something," Ezra shrugged, trying to move out from Chris' grip. "Then next time, some other poor soul won't be roped into doing your duties."

"I mean it, kid. You're not here to con the man, and if I find you playing him again I'm going to hit you so hard you'll wake up in next week."

Straightening his clothing and brushing at the dust he'd picked up during the ride, Ezra clenched his jaw. "Let me make myself perfectly plain, Mr Larabee. I have every intention of aiding this man if for no other reason than it will annoy you when I perform your profession better than you do yourself. Let me also clarify that I will not abide you threatening my person or manhandling me. Furthermore, Mr McCallum isn't the type of man to allow your usual lack of finesse to impress him. What I did back there is what you should have done; defuse a tense situation with good manners and levelheadedness."

Without another word, the boy swept into the house, leaving Chris grinding his teeth and stomping after him.

As far as Chris could tell, McCallum didn't know diddly squat about his son's disappearance. He'd admitted there had been no ransom demand, which was concerning. Now, after five days silence, he feared the worst.

At this admission, Ezra had narrowed his eyes thoughtfully but said nothing as McCallum fiddled with his sleeve cuff, hiding a previously unseen bandage almost as a reflex.

Chris could feel the vein on his temple throbbing and clenched his hand in his lap in an effort to alleviate the headache he was building. How was he supposed to keep up with Ezra's thoughts if the boy refused to grant him a glimpse behind what he was beginning to realise was a very well-crafted poker face. He mentally sighed. It was so much easier with the others.

Ezra continued his questioning, bringing up the threat to cut Camden off and the young man's response to it, once again giving away little of his thoughts when McCallum insisted his son had mended his ways and toned down the attitude.

"It was almost overnight," McCallum declared. "It worked, just as I knew it would."

"Indeed," Ezra drawled, managing to sound both sincere and condescending all in the same word.

Both older men eyed him warily.

Realising he might have tipped his hand somewhat, Ezra smiled charmingly and requested McCallum's leave to stretch his legs. "I leave you in Mr Larabee's dependable hands," he added, as he made his exit. Peering back as he shut the study door, he chuckled to himself as the two men turned their suspicious gazes upon each other. He wondered how long the silence would stretch out.

"You look like you're spying on Papa."

Ezra turned at the voice, finding a young woman about his own age gliding down the curved staircase towards him.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to eavesdrop?" she continued as she drew closer.

Ignoring the thought that Maude had actively encouraged eavesdropping, Ezra gave the girl a little bow, straightening up to take her hand and press a kiss to the back of it. Glancing at her properly, he smiled into bright blue eyes set in a pretty face, haloed by masses of golden hair.

"My apologies," he drawled, noticing the way her eyes darkened approvingly at his accent. "I had left my associate with your father and was merely wondering which of the daunting personalities within the study would bend first." He lifted her hand again for another kiss, seeing if he could push the bounds of propriety. "Ezra Standish, at your service."

"Katarina McCallum," she offered, making no move to take her hand back. "I would wager Papa would outlast your associate," she added, smiling mischievously.

"Miss McCallum," Ezra shook his head. "betting on one's own father. I'm impressed."

She laughed then. "I guessed it would meet with your approval," she hinted, running her eye over his finely tailored clothing.

Realising he was still holding her hand, Ezra gently let it go to tug a little at his jacket. "Alas, I fear I have been made."

She laughed again, leading him slightly down the hall to the parlour. Once inside, she watched him wander the room before approaching him. "Are you here about Camden, Mr Standish?"

"We are."

She bit her bottom lip. "Do you think he's in awful trouble?"

"Perhaps." Taking her elbow as gently as he could, Ezra led her to the sofa and sat them down. "You may be able to help me, Miss McCallum."

"Katarina, please."

"Then I must insist upon Ezra."

She peered up at him coyly. "How can I help, Ezra?"

"Do you recall anything unusual about your brother in the days before his disappearance?" he began.

"No," she sighed, shaking her head so that her loose curls bounced distractingly off her shoulders. "He seemed so happy. He was making stupid jokes and playing with Henry."

"Henry?"

"Camden's dog. He never goes anywhere without him."

"And where is this paragon of friendship?"

Katarina bit her lip again. "I don't know. I haven't seen him in days. I worry he's lying somewhere pining over Camden and – oh Ezra! You have to find my brother. I can't stand to think he's hurt or …" she broke off, valiantly trying not to sob.

"Miss McCallum, Katarina," Ezra murmured, waiting until watery eyes peered back up at him. "I can't promise everything will work out darlin', but I assure you if it's at all possible I will do everything in my power to see your brother safely returned home to you."

"I understand," she sniffed into her handkerchief. Finding a small smile, she touched his arm lightly. "Thank you, Ezra. Papa won't speak of Camden to me, I think he's given up hope."

"I see." Ezra paused, letting his mind work through the bits of information he'd gleamed. There was something there, he was sure of it. Noticing Katarina's stare, he refocused. "Do you perchance know of Malcolm Orso?"

"Sure, I know Malcolm." She smiled a little stronger this time. "I haven't seen him for … oh, nearly a year I suppose. Not since Camden and Papa had that terrible fight."

"They came to blows?"

"Yes, they shouted so loud I could hear them from here. I didn't think Camden would ever forgive Papa, but a few days later he apologised, and they haven't argued since. It's been nice, actually," she added, "having Camden home and he and Papa not making snide remarks."

"Yes," Ezra agreed absently. "I suppose it must have been." Then her wording hit him. "Having Camden home? He journeyed often?"

"He and Malcolm liked to stay at one of the line shacks," Katarina explained. "Camden and Papa would clash on the silliest things so when he was fifteen, my brother decided to upscale one of the northern line shacks, intending to hide away there when he and Papa rowed. Malcolm would often come out. I think they used to drink and gamble there; Camden certainly stayed there when news reached us of what he'd been up to."

"Sounds like quite an exciting brother to have."

Katarina laughed a little, still dabbing her eyes. "Exciting is not the word I would have used."

The two smiled gently at each other before Ezra remembered he was sitting alone with a young woman whose father was just down the hall, no doubt having his patience sorely tested by Ezra's own, for want of a better word, guardian.

"I, uh, should take my leave, Miss McCallum," he pointed out, standing.

Joining him, she lightly touched his arm again. "Katarina."

"Katarina," Ezra agreed, once more bowing over her hand. "It has been my pleasure."

"Do you think Papa will invite you to dinner?" she asked, eyes sparkling with some of the mischievousness she had earlier displayed. "I would like to have an excuse to dress up."

Ezra swallowed. "I'm not sure. My companions and I have a job to do."

"I'll insist," she promised. "You'd better go now, though. I'd hate to get you in trouble."

Ezra couldn't help laughing. "I'm afraid you won't have much luck there. Trouble just seems to fall right at my feet." Taking his leave of her, the young gambler decided to head outside and see if Vin had found anything useful. There was no way he wanted to go back to the study and face Larabee and 'Papa' just at the moment.

Moving stealthily by the room in question, Ezra slipped out of the house and headed towards the stable. He found Vin scowling at a patch of dust, muttering oaths under his breath. Peering down, Ezra wrinkled his nose. Tracks were not his forte, but he didn't think he could see any sign that indicated an unwilling journey; no drag marks, heavier steps or the like.

"That doesn't look particularly like a scuffle," he ventured, raising an eyebrow at Vin.

"Nope."

"Then why are you imitating Mr Larabee's fierce façade?"

"None of it looks like a scuffle."

Ezra smiled happily. "Well, don't worry on it, Mr Tanner."

"Vin."

"Yes, I know."

"Why ain't I worried?"

"I doubt Camden had the wherewithal to lay false tracks – a staged scuffle, if you will – when he left the ranch."

Vin turned sharp blue eyes onto the boy. "Ain't what at least two men are saying."

"People told you they saw the abduction of their boss' son?"

"Yep."

"They're lying. No doubt paid for their trouble." Ezra directed Vin's gaze back to the ground. "Nothing here tells you any sort of villainy took place, does it?"

"Nope."

"Then why would you believe strangers over what your own senses are telling you, Mr Tanner?"

"Vin."

"I'm aware. Why are you still out here?"

"Chris sent me to find something. Ain't found it."

"You've certainly found information."

Vin shrugged. "Jus' lotsa tracks crossing all over the place."

"And no scuffle."

"Nope."

"Then you can tell Mr Larabee you've found something," Ezra pointed out brightly. "You could even call it shady, if you were feeling bedevilled."

Vin squinted at the young southerner. "You feelin' all right, Ez?"

"Perfectly fine. I have a theory as to Camden's disappearance, you have an absence of scuffle and we may very well be invited to dinner. And it's two syllables, Mr Tanner. Ez-ra."

Vin shook his head with a grin. "All right, Ez-ra. Let's go talk ta Chris."

Dinner was an exercise in polite restraint.

Vin cringed beside Chris, trying to hide his lean body behind his friend as he frantically attempted not to call attention to himself, out of place among the finery. Larabee himself alternated between itching to drag Vin out from his shadow and loudly telling Camden McCallum Sr just what he really thought about his fine dining room and fancy plates and goddamn airs while at the head of the table, the war hero politely ground his teeth as his daughter flirted with the young gambler.

It was just as well that the boy had the good sense to keep his hands where McCallum and Chris could see them.

As it was, Ezra and Katarina seemed to be the only ones enjoying the gathering, allowing the conversation to flow effortlessly between them on a wide range of subjects, pausing only for vain attempts to include the older men into the discussion. Eventually, and possibly not a moment too soon, dinner was concluded and in a rather poor show of manners, McCallum failed to offer brandy or one of his rich cigars, instead telling the men they could spend the night in the second bunkhouse, just off the side of the stables.

His 'offer' came out strained and in the manner of one who was itching for a stiff drink and a weapon. Chris could understand that.

For once not pushing his luck, Ezra thanked his host for a wonderful meal and gave Katarina his best smile before heading for their sleeping quarters. Left behind, Vin and Chris mumbled their thanks as well and took their leave, somewhat less gracefully and without managing to meet Miss McCallum's beautiful eyes.

Ezra glanced up from the bunk he'd decided to claim as his own as his companions entered the building. While Chris' very presence preceded his arrival by some feet as an angry, pulsating mass – honestly, the man would never be able to sneak up on anyone - Vin's soft drawl seemed to merge with the darkening evening as he cautioned Chris.

"Don't kill 'im."

"Why the hell not?" Chris ground out around a cheroot. "You know it was his damn doing that got us invited to that … meal."

"He's got a theory. Reckon you should hear it 'fore ya shoot 'im."

Chris didn't appear to listen, stepping closer to Ezra. "What were you thinking?" he snarled. "You're lucky he didn't pull the rifle off the damn wall, acting up with that girl when her daddy's sat right there."

"I was doing nothing but enjoying an entertaining conversation with an intelligent woman," Ezra defended.

"You were flirting with her, boy! McCallum had every right to string you up." Chris roared, warming up for the fight he'd been itching for ever since he met the cattle baron.

"He weren't."

The quiet words ground Chris to a halt. Spinning to face Vin, he treated his friend to a deadly glare. As usual, it rolled right of the Texan. "What?"

"Weren't flirting. That was all her idea."

"Thank you, Mr Tanner. I'm glad someone was paying attention."

The tracker sighed. "Vin."

"So you've mentioned."

Chris looked between the two younger men, pulled his cheroot out of his mouth, ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "You've got a theory?"

"Indeed, I do!" Ezra bounced to his feet, mercurial mood switching effortlessly. Chris was beginning to think the little southerner was enjoying making him seasick with his rapid change of emotions. "It's a good one," he added, green eyes sparkling.

Chris sat wearily on the next bunk, putting the cheroot back in his mouth. "Let's hear it."

"Our missing McCallum kidnapped himself."

Chris raised his eyes towards Vin. "I can shoot him now, right?"

"Reckon."

"Think about it," Ezra insisted. "Mr Tanner has found nothing to indicate an abduction and the dog is gone."

"What dog?" Chris growled.

"Precisely!"

"Ezra."

The young southerner frowned. Was it really so hard to see? "Camden never goes anywhere without his dog."

"So?" Vin shrugged.

"So naturally, where one is, the other shall be."

Chris growled. "You don't start makin' sense, I'm gonna tear up that pardon."

Dejected, Ezra sat back onto his bunk. "Mr Larabee, I'm sure I speak for the both of us when I say this assignment is as tiresome as it is uncomfortable, but I urge you to work with me. Just once. Just once and then we may make our report to the venerable Judge and part company, to never recall these few horrendous hours again."

Chris smoked for a moment, eyeing the boy before him. "Explain."

Ezra let out a tense breath. "As I stated before, leopards rarely change their spots. Camden has an expensive, reckless lifestyle and has grown up protected by a powerful father. Likely he assumed, as has everything else, his expenses and monthly stipend would continue to be handed to him upon a silver platter while his misdemeanours would be quietly swept aside under McCallum's influence and money."

"'Cept his pa put his foot down," Vin grinned.

"Indeed. Quite a shock, I'd imagine," Ezra agreed. "And so Camden was faced with a choice. He could do as his father decreed and grow up and accept the mantle of responsibility or he could take another route to financial security. An easier route."

"You reckon on him takin' that easier route?" Chris asked.

"Let's just say young men who have always known easy rarely think long term and a large payday is infinitely more appealing than hard work. With a ransom in hand, not only would he be able to move out of his father's shadow, but he wouldn't have to give up the lifestyle he enjoyed for particularly long, nor would he be reliant on inheriting the ranch. In just a years' time, he would be a free man, with the added benefit of outwitting the old man."

The slight satisfaction in Ezra's voice made Chris wonder if 'outwitting the old man' was what the boy before him was doing by coming west.

"Ain't no ransom," Vin pointed out, breaking the silence.

Ezra grinned up at him. "An excellent point, Mr Tanner. Which can only mean one thing. Someone is lying to us."