Читать книгу Cowboy of Interest - Carla Cassidy - Страница 9
ОглавлениеNick was in a foul mood. He’d had trouble sleeping the night before, and when he had fallen asleep he’d suffered wild dreams. He’d awakened before dawn after a particularly disturbing dream.
He now stabled his horse, Raven. It was eight o’clock and he headed back to his bunk to clean up for the morning meeting with Adrienne.
He’d been up and out in the pasture early, chased out of bed not by nightmares of Wendy, but rather by inappropriate erotic dreams of Adrienne.
He’d thought the early-morning air and the sight of a beautiful sunrise would erase the unacceptable visions his unconscious mind had conjured up during sleep, but it hadn’t worked.
As he showered and dressed in clean jeans and a navy T-shirt, he dreaded his own suggestion that he and Adrienne work together to figure out who might have killed Wendy.
He might have suffered hot dreams of her, but he had a feeling by the time he’d spent an hour in her company, he’d be pulling his hair out in frustration. Still, as much as she wanted to keep an eye on him, he wanted to keep an eye on her. He didn’t want her somehow interfering or tainting the investigation, an investigation he hoped would quickly exonerate him. He had too much to lose if she screwed something up.
At eight-thirty, he stepped out of his bunk and nearly ran into Dusty Crawford, a fellow ranch hand. “I thought I’d see if maybe you want me to go with you this morning,” Dusty said, his dimples flashing with his smile.
“And why would I want you to tag along?”
Dusty’s smile widened. “She beat you up once. I just thought you might need the services of a personal bodyguard.”
“You aren’t kidding me with your stupid offer to be my bodyguard. The only reason you’d want to go with me is to get a chance to talk to Trisha,” Nick replied.
Trisha Cahill worked as a waitress at the café, and it was no secret that Dusty had a major crush on the blonde, who had a four-year-old son.
Dusty’s smile faded. “I’ve never had a woman give me so many mixed signals. One minute I think she’s about to agree to go out with me and the next she acts as though she doesn’t even want to talk to me.”
Nick clapped the younger man on his back. “If getting a date with Trisha is the biggest problem you have in your life, then consider yourself lucky.” He checked his watch. “And now I’ve got to get going...without a bodyguard at my side.”
Dusty laughed and, with a tip of his hat, headed toward the stables while Nick walked to the oversize shed that served as a garage where the ranch hands parked their personal rides.
A variety of black pickups filled the garage, the favorite mode of transportation for most of the men who worked at the ranch. Nick’s ride was a gray Jeep. He pulled out of the garage and a knot of tension formed in his stomach at the thought of meeting with the woman who had occupied so many of his dreams.
He wished he had another suspect to throw out to her, but he had no idea who Wendy had spent time with when she wasn’t with him. She’d never mentioned anyone else.
He wasn’t surprised to see Adrienne’s silver sedan already parked in front of the café when he arrived. He found her seated in the same booth they’d occupied the day before, although this time she was facing the door.
She was clad in a sea foam–green blouse today. Her eyes were more green than blue, although there was no more warmth in them today than there had been yesterday. Not that he’d expected any welcome.
Sunday mornings, the café was relatively quiet. Things would pick up after church services when families would start to arrive for the afternoon meal.
He slid into the seat across from Adrienne and placed his hat next to him. Before they’d even had a chance to speak, Jenna was by the booth. “Adrienne has already ordered,” she said. “What can I get for you, Nick?”
“Just a cup of coffee,” he replied. He’d eaten breakfast hours earlier in the ranch hand dining room.
“Coming right up,” Jenna said.
“Good morning,” he greeted Adrienne the minute Jenna was gone.
“It won’t be a good morning until my sister’s murderer is behind bars,” she replied.
“Nothing like cutting to the chase,” Nick said drily.
She didn’t blink an eye. “There’s some new information about the case that you probably haven’t heard yet, unless, of course, you’re responsible.”
He sat up straighter. “And what’s that?”
Jenna returned to their table with Nick’s coffee and an order of toast and a cup of hot tea for Adrienne. “Anything else I can do for you two?”
“This should do it,” Nick replied, eager for her to leave and Adrienne to tell him what new information she possessed.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” Jenna said, and once she was gone, Nick focused his attention on the woman across from him.
“Chief Bowie and I believe Wendy didn’t pack up her things and leave her motel room under her own volition,” she said. “Did Wendy ever tell you about her blackbird figurine?”
He frowned at her. “I don’t know anything about a blackbird, but she did show me a bluebird that was given to her by her mother before she died. It was very important to her.”
“It was still in the room where she stayed.”
Nick raised an eyebrow. “She wouldn’t have left it behind.” He leaned forward slightly. “A blackbird? Was that some sort of test to see if I knew about the bluebird or not? Did I pass?”
“Yes,” she replied succinctly.
“Are there going to be more tests?”
“Maybe...I don’t know. I’m just being careful about trusting you.”
“You can trust me, Adrienne,” he replied.
“Anyway, when I left the motel this morning, there were several deputies inside her room. I assume they were fingerprinting and collecting anything that might point to the guilty.” She took a sip of her tea, her gaze never leaving his. She placed her cup back down in the saucer. “Are they going to find your prints in that room?”
“Probably,” Nick replied honestly. “There was an evening not long before she disappeared that we ate take-out pizza in her room.” He frowned and stared into his coffee cup. “I don’t know what to say to convince you that Wendy and I were just friends. I didn’t kill her. I didn’t pack up her belongings in that motel room. I had nothing to do with any of this.”
He looked up at Adrienne. “She’d just moved to a new town, and I think she was lonely. I think she sensed a loneliness inside me. Other than my fellow ranch hands, I only have a couple of friends. I tend to be a loner, but Wendy was like a force of nature. Once she’d made up her mind that we were going to be friends, I was helpless.”
For the first time since he’d met Adrienne, a small smile curved her lips. The beauty of it nearly stole his breath away. “She was like a force of nature, fierce and fearless. She was like a windstorm that only stopped when it finally blew itself out.” Her smile faltered.
“Wendy and I saw each other once or twice a week while she was here,” he said. “What we need to find out is who she might have been seeing, what she might have been doing during the time she wasn’t with me.”
“And how do we go about finding those answers?” she asked.
“We start right here, where she worked.” He slid out of the booth. “Wait here and I’ll be right back. If that toast is your breakfast, then I suggest you eat it because it might be a long day.”
He went in search of Daisy, the owner of the café. If anyone would know the people Wendy interacted with both at work and outside of work, it would be Daisy. She thrived on the café business and gossip. He had no idea if Chief Bowie had already talked to Daisy, but it didn’t matter if he had. Nick wanted to hear from the woman himself. He found the plump woman in the kitchen seated at a small table sipping a glass of tomato juice that matched the color of her hair.
“Hey, Nick,” she greeted him. “What are you doing back here in my kitchen? Is Jenna not doing her job right?”
“No, Jenna is just fine. I was wondering if you’d have a few minutes to come out and sit with me and Wendy’s sister, Adrienne, and answer some questions for us.”
“Even if I didn’t have time, I’d make time.” She set her glass down and stood. “That poor woman. I can’t imagine what she’s going through. I know how much I miss Wendy, and I only knew her for a couple of months.”
She followed Nick out of the kitchen and to the booth, where Nick noticed that Adrienne had nibbled down half a piece of toast. Nick picked up his hat and placed it on his lap so that Daisy could scoot in next to him.
She instantly reached across the table and clasped Adrienne’s small hands in her meaty ones. “Honey, I’m so sorry for your loss. For the brief time she was here, Wendy was like a breath of fresh air, a new member of my family.”
She released Adrienne’s hands and leaned back in the booth. “So Nick said you two have some questions for me.” She looked from Adrienne to Nick.
“I know Wendy was a popular waitress, but we were wondering if you could think of anyone in particular who showed an unusual interest in her,” Nick said.
“She wasn’t just a pretty girl and something new and shiny in town. She was also friendly and a bit of a tease,” Daisy said. “When she worked, her section was always full. She drew everyone to her. The cowboys especially. Her section was almost always full of single ranch hands vying for her attention.”
“Did she make anyone mad or upset?” Adrienne asked. “Did she have problems with any of her coworkers? I know Wendy could be wonderful and charming, but I also know she had a bit of a temper and could be a brat.” Adrienne’s face paled, as if she was sickened by speaking anything ill about her sister.
Daisy frowned thoughtfully. “I think she might have had some choice words with Zeke Osmond. He sat in her section one day, and I think he got a bit vulgar with her. She called him a filthy pig and refused to finish serving him. After that, he always sat at the counter with his lowlife friends.”
“Zeke Osmond?” Adrienne looked at Nick curiously.
“He works on the Humes Ranch,” Nick replied.
“The one next to where you work,” Adrienne said.
Nick nodded thoughtfully. Zeke Osmond was another piece of nasty in a group of nasty that worked for Raymond Humes. There was no question that there was bad blood between the two ranches. Was it possible Zeke had murdered Wendy and then had buried her on the Holiday Ranch to implicate one of the Holiday ranch hands?
He focused his attention back to Daisy, who had continued talking. “Of course, Greg Albertson is Zeke’s shadow and was with Zeke when Wendy and Zeke had words. Then there’s Perry Wright, who seemed to take a real shine to Wendy. He’s so shy, I don’t know whether he ever asked her out or not, but it was obvious he was crazy about her whenever he came in to eat.”
“Have you told Dillon all this?” Nick asked.
Daisy shook her head. “I haven’t talked to Dillon since I made the initial identification. I told him what I knew about Wendy’s interactions here in the café then.” She kept her gaze away from Adrienne.
“And you can’t think of anyone else that Wendy might have had problems with?” Adrienne asked.
“Not while she was working here. Now, what happened on her own time I really don’t know about.” She looked at Nick. “I know she followed you around like a lost little puppy, but I don’t know who else she spent her downtime with. If she was seeing another cowboy or any other man, I didn’t hear about it.”
Adrienne’s eyes narrowed once again as she looked at Nick. Daisy caught her look and laughed. “Honey, if you think Nick had anything to do with your sister’s death, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Daisy placed a hand on Nick’s forearm. “I’ve known this man since he was a teenager. There isn’t a bad bone in his entire body.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Daisy,” he said.
She rose from the booth. “You don’t have to convince me of your innocence.” She jerked a thumb in Adrienne’s direction. “She’s the one who has suspicion in her eyes.”
“So what happens now?” Adrienne asked after Daisy left.
“We find Dillon and give him the three names that Daisy just gave us,” he replied. He was particularly interested in Dillon following up on the potential Zeke Osmond and Greg Albertson connection.
Last month one of Humes’s men, Lloyd Green, had been suspected of terrorizing the new owner of Holiday Ranch, Cassie, and her friend Nicolette at the Holiday Ranch. He was eventually cleared, but Nick wouldn’t put anything past any of the ranch hands who worked for Raymond Humes.
They were suspected in all kinds of mischief that had happened at the Holiday Ranch...missing cattle and broken fence line and dozens of other issues.
It seemed as if Raymond Humes had gone out of his way to staff his ranch with rough and mean ranch hands, men who had no moral compasses and who thrived on stirring up trouble. As far as Nick was concerned, it was very possible there could be a murderer among the bunch.
“Let’s go see Chief Bowie,” Adrienne said, pulling him from his thoughts.
Minutes later, they pulled up side by side at the police station only to discover that Dillon was out at the crime scene at the ranch.
Adrienne followed Nick to the ranch, her car like a shining star behind his Jeep in the midmorning sunshine. How did people prove their innocence when there was no evidence to prove their guilt?
It was obvious he’d made little to no headway in making Adrienne believe in his innocence, and what bothered him was how badly he wanted her to believe him.
There had been few people in Nick’s life he’d wanted to please. Certainly not the woman who had given birth to him and then had abandoned him at the zoo when he was eight, leaving him to a foster care system that had, at times, been brutal.
When he’d been brought to the Holiday Ranch, he’d desperately wanted to please Cass Holiday, who had given him real-life lessons and a sense of worth and had taught him how to be a good, self-respecting man.
He’d also wanted to earn the respect and friendship of all the men he worked with at the ranch. He’d managed to do that, and considered each and every cowboy on the Holiday Ranch as a brother.
What he didn’t understand was why it was so important that he somehow prove himself to a woman he barely knew, a woman with chameleon eyes and an unexpected smile that had lit up something inside him.
* * *
Adrienne followed behind Nick’s Jeep, her thoughts in turmoil. She’d come to town wanting to hate Nick Coleman and firm in her belief that he’d killed Wendy. She’d come to town expecting a monster.
What she’d found was a hot, sexy cowboy who seemed as determined as she was to find the real killer. Jenna, the woman who had waited on them the day before, had certainly shown no fear or trepidation around Nick, and Daisy had practically laughed at the very idea of Nick being involved in any way in Wendy’s murder.
So who exactly was Nick Coleman? Was he a cold-blooded killer or simply an innocent man who had struck up a friendship with a young, vibrant and lonely newcomer to town?
There was no question that something about him drew her despite her wish to the contrary. She’d never been a woman particularly attracted to eye candy, although there was no question that Nick was easy on the eyes.
There was definitely some emotion in the depths of his blue eyes that tugged at her, a haunting sadness that occasionally shone through otherwise fathomless waters.
At thirty years old, there had been few men in her life. In fact, there had been only one. At the time, when most young women had begun to date to find their lifelong mate, she’d been busy raising Wendy.
A little over two years ago when Wendy had taken off on her own, Adrienne had done little to improve her love life. Wendy had often told Adrienne she was too rigid, too uptight to ever find a man who’d want to spend his life with her.
Even though Wendy had usually said those words in the heat of an argument, Adrienne realized some of them had taken purchase in her heart, making her leery of even seeking any personal relationship with any man. The one time she’d made an attempt, Wendy’s prediction had proved true.
She followed Nick’s Jeep beneath the wrought iron entrance to the Holiday Ranch, her thoughts focused solely on meeting up with Chief Bowie and hopefully furthering the investigation into Wendy’s death.
Nick parked next to the house, and she pulled in just behind him. In the distance, she could see men on horseback and a huge herd of cattle. She could also see the bright blue tentlike canopy that covered the remains of an old shed where Wendy’s body had been discovered, along with the skeletons.
She swallowed against any emotion that might sneak up on her and fell into step next to a silent Nick. She had to take two steps to his one in order to keep up with his long-legged pace.
They walked about halfway between where they had parked and the blue canopy-topped tent when an officer appeared and approached them.
His name tag identified him as Officer Juan Ramirez. He nodded to Adrienne. “Ma’am,” he said and then turned his focus to Nick. “Nick, you know you shouldn’t be anywhere around the crime scene.”
“We have no intention of getting any closer,” Nick replied. “But we heard Chief Bowie is out here and we’d like to talk to him.”
“I’ll go see if he’s available.” Juan turned on his heels and walked back to the tent and disappeared inside.
A moment later, Dillon appeared and headed in their direction, his features appearing haggard and his uniform dusted with the rusty color of the Oklahoma dirt.
“I can’t do anything with the skeletal remains until our expert gets here,” he said as if somebody had asked him a question. “But we’ve been digging around the area where Wendy was found to make sure we haven’t missed anything related to her murder.”
“And have you found anything?” Adrienne asked, eager to hear something positive.
His tired eyes held frustration as he shook his head. “Not yet. So Juan said you two needed to speak to me.”
Adrienne remained silent as Nick told Dillon about the conversation they’d shared with Daisy over breakfast.
“Zeke Osmond, Greg Albertson and Perry Wright,” Dillon repeated. “I’ll add them to the list. Right now I’ve got a couple of my men interviewing all the men who work here at the ranch.”
Adrienne sensed the tension that filled Nick, making him stand a little taller. “None of those men are capable of murder, and nobody has questioned me yet,” he said.
“We’re taking this slow,” Dillon said. “Trust me, Nick, you will be thoroughly questioned, but we only figured out yesterday, thanks to Adrienne, that the crime probably began in the motel room.”
“I saw your men there this morning. Were they able to come up with anything?” Adrienne asked.
Dillon frowned. “No. In fact, they couldn’t pull a single fingerprint from any place in the room.”
“So whoever packed her things also took the time to completely wipe down the room,” Nick said.
“It would appear so,” Dillon replied.
Had Wendy been tied up on the bed while the killer had packed her things and cleaned the room? Or had she already been dead and buried and the killer had come back to her room alone in the dead of night to tie up loose ends?
Adrienne’s knees weakened, and she stumbled against Nick’s side as horrendous visions played and replayed in her mind. His arm immediately went around her shoulder, anchoring her to his strong body. She knew she should step away, but she lingered for just a moment, feeding off his strength, oddly comforted by his warmth.
She quickly locked her knees, banished the horrific visions from her brain and stepped away from Nick, appalled that she’d found any modicum of comfort in his nearness.
“If that’s all you want with me, then I need to get back to work,” Dillon said. “Nick, I’ll have that interview with you sometime later this afternoon. Adrienne, I’ll try to keep you up to date with anything we learn.”
Adrienne and Nick headed back toward their vehicles, but before they reached them, a pretty, petite blonde stepped out of the house and onto the back porch.
“Nick, why don’t you two come in for something cold to drink,” she said.
“Who is that?” Adrienne asked softly.
“Cassie Peterson, my boss,” he replied. He waved to her. “We might as well go inside. You can meet her and the others who live here.”
Nick introduced Adrienne to Cassie, who greeted her warmly, her blue eyes filled with the compassion Adrienne had come to expect from the people in Bitterroot who knew about her sister.
Cassie led them through a small formal parlor area and into a great room where a lovely dark-haired woman and a young boy sat on the sofa thumbing through a catalog. The woman stood and the boy ran to Nick.
“Hi, Cowboy Nick. Whatcha doing?” He looked at Adrienne. “Hi, I’m Sammy and that’s my mom, Nicolette, and we just bought a house with Cowboy Lucas, who is going to be my new dad as soon as they get married.”
“Sammy.” His mother smiled apologetically and moved closer to Nick and Adrienne. “I apologize for my little chatterbox.”
“No apology necessary,” Adrienne replied and then introduced herself.
Nicolette took her hand and squeezed it tightly. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Unfortunately, Cassie and I arrived in town after your sister had gone missing, so we never got an opportunity to meet her. I’ve heard she was a wonderful young woman.” She released Adrienne’s hand and motioned both her and Nick to the sofa. “Sammy, why don’t you take the catalog and go upstairs to your room. You can use a crayon and mark what you like.”
Adrienne was disappointed that they hadn’t known her sister, but before she could scarcely blink an eye, she was on the sofa next to Nick with a glass of iced tea in her hand.
It didn’t take long for Cassie to explain that the ranch had belonged to her aunt Cass, who had died almost two months ago in a tornado. Cass had left the ranch to Cassie, who had left her art and clothing boutique in New York City and had brought her best friend and her son with her to check out her inheritance.
“It was when the men were pulling down an old shed that had been damaged in the tornado that we discovered the bodies,” Cassie said, her blue eyes darkening.
“On that note, I’d like to ask you for some time off,” Nick said. “You know I’m a person of interest in Wendy’s murder, and Adrienne and I are doing a little investigation of our own in an attempt to find the real killer.”
“You can take as much time off as you need,” Cassie replied easily. “I know your fellow cowboys will fill in for you.”
“And you know that you have our one hundred percent support,” Nicolette added as she looked at Nick. “More than once over the past two months I left my son’s safety in your hands. I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t trust what kind of man you are, and you aren’t a killer.”
The obvious respect and support the two women showed Nick only managed to confuse Adrienne more. Was he so good that he had managed to fool everyone around him? Or was he really innocent and didn’t warrant her suspicions at all?
By the time they left the house, it was well past noon.
“By the way, who is Perry Wright?” she asked before they got into their vehicles.
“He’s a shy, quiet young guy who works in medical billing at the hospital. I don’t know him very well. He lives in an apartment in town and pretty much keeps to himself.”
She nodded. She’d find out more about these men in the next couple of days. “What now?”
He frowned thoughtfully. “I think the best thing for me to do right now is hang around here and wait for Dillon to contact me about that interview.”
“Then, I think I’ll just wander around town a bit and ask some questions,” she replied.
“I’d rather you not do that alone,” he said. “For the most part, Bitterroot is filled with good people, but there are also some rough characters. Besides, you’re a stranger, and folks around here can be pretty closemouthed with outsiders.”
“Are you afraid for my safety or about something I might learn about you?” she asked.
His sensual lips thinned to a grim line before he replied, “I thought we were partners working together on this.”
“Is that what you are? My partner, or are you managing me, making sure I only talk to people who believe you’re innocent?”
“Wendy told me you could be impossible,” he said, his eyes flashing with obvious annoyance. “Go talk to whoever you want to, and far be it for me to worry about your safety.”
He didn’t give her an opportunity to reply. He got into his Jeep, started the engine and headed to a large structure in the distance.
Adrienne got into her car with the sting of his words in her heart. Of course Wendy had told him she was impossible. Adrienne could only wonder what other negative things her sister had said about her. She’d been tough on Wendy, but at the time she’d felt she had to be. Now she lived with the regret of second-guessing every decision she’d made during Wendy’s growing years.
She pulled away from the Holiday Ranch and headed back toward town. She consciously willed away thoughts of her sister’s hurtful words and instead focused on what she intended to do when she got back to Bitterroot.
If Nick thought she was just going to return to her motel room and cool her heels for the rest of the day, then he was sadly mistaken.
She had a gun in her purse and knew how to keep out of dangerous situations. Somebody in town knew something about Wendy that would lead to the identification of her killer, and she intended to ferret out that information, with or without Nick’s presence.
With this plan in mind, she found a parking space smack-dab in the center of Main Street and decided she would begin at one end of town and work her way to the other. There were plenty of stores that Wendy would have frequented, and people in those stores who would have interacted with her.
She not only wanted to find out what she could about Wendy’s interactions in town, but she also wanted to dig up what she could about the three men Daisy had mentioned. And if she happened to learn more about Nick, she’d consider that a bonus.
She figured she’d work the streets and stores until it grew dark and then she’d head back to her motel room for dinner and to work a couple of hours on her personal business until bedtime.
It didn’t take her long to realize that, unlike Nick’s comment about outsiders and closed mouths, some of the people in Bitterroot liked to talk...a lot.
The first person she spoke to was the owner of the small grocery store that served the town. Sharon Watson was an older woman with salt-and-pepper hair who spent much of her time as not only the owner but also the head cashier.
“I was always riding your sister when she’d come in here for groceries,” Sharon said. “She’d buy frozen burritos and cheap pizzas, chips and dip and all kinds of cookies. I told her she needed to be buying some fruits and vegetables, maybe cook herself a roast or some juicy pork chops, but she just laughed at me and said she liked her junk food diet.”
Adrienne’s heart squeezed tight. Yes, that sounded like Wendy. Getting her to eat a healthy meal had always been a challenge.
By the time she left the store, she knew the eating habits of half the inhabitants of Bitterroot. She’d also learned that Sharon thought Zeke Osmond was a punk, that Greg Albertson was Zeke’s tagalong and that Perry Wright was a sweet, soft-spoken man who had helped Sharon with her insurance claims when she’d had her gallbladder out the year before.
She had no intention of interacting with any of the three men by herself, and she had a feeling her “partnership” with Nick was finished. He’d been angry with her when they’d parted ways earlier. She’d have to depend on Chief Bowie to do his job when it came to those men.
It was almost eight o’clock when she finally returned to her motel room. She parked in front of her unit but remained in the car for several long minutes, discouragement weighing heavily on her shoulders.
She’d managed to talk to people in only four different places of business and hadn’t learned any more than she’d initially gotten from Sharon at the grocery store.
She’d found most of the men she tried to talk to closemouthed about the case and the three men she’d asked about. The women were chattier, but had no real information to offer her.
Remembering that moment of leaning against Nick, of feeling his strong arm around her, she realized that was what she’d like at the moment—a strong arm around her and somebody comforting her.
She straightened and drew a deep, fortifying breath. She hadn’t needed a strong shoulder to lean on when she’d been ten years old and their father had walked out on them, never to be heard from again. She hadn’t needed anyone when she was eighteen and her mother had died, leaving an eleven-year-old Wendy to raise.
She’d never needed anyone, and she didn’t now. All she wanted was dinner, a little work at her computer and a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow was another day, and she would continue to walk the streets and talk to strangers in an effort to gain answers to who had murdered her sister and why.
Finally, she dug the motel room key from her purse and got out of her car. She was just about to unlock her door when she noticed a folded piece of paper shoved in a crack between the door and the doorjamb.
She grabbed the paper, unlocked her door and went inside. She immediately turned on lights to ward off the darkness of deep twilight that had fallen. Then she set her purse on the table and opened the paper.
Printed in bold, black letters with a felt-tipped marker were the words, “BE CAREFUL WHO YOU TRUST.”
