Читать книгу Murder And Mistletoe - Barb Han - Страница 12

Chapter Four

“Dammit,” Dalton said, cursing again under his breath. “Keep your face covered in case he tries to shoot another picture.”

The reporter hopped into his sedan and then tore out of the parking lot, spewing gravel. Before the small gray car could disappear, Dalton palmed his own phone and snapped a pic of the back of the vehicle. He’d open his own investigation on the man and see what he could find.

“This isn’t good,” the detective said. “I could lose my job if this thing plays out wrong.”

“We need to go.” Dalton started toward his sport utility, feeling a cold blast of morning air penetrate his thin jacket.

“Where?” Detective West asked.

“You can go wherever you want,” he shot back. Other than engaging in a kiss that did a little too much damage to his senses, nothing had changed. She still didn’t trust him, a sentiment that went both ways.

“The sheriff said there was only one set of footprints leading up to the base of the tree before she was taken down. Now there are many,” she said and her words stopped Dalton in his tracks.

“How much did your niece weigh?” he asked.

Leanne must’ve known the question was coming because she answered without hesitation. “Around a hundred pounds or so.”

“He could’ve carried her,” he countered, keeping his back to her. He stomped on the ground. The earth was cold, hard, unforgiving. “I’m a big guy and I’m barely leaving a footprint.”

“I’m trying to talk the sheriff into treating this as a murder investigation,” she said. “Maybe if you come with me, I’ll have a chance.”

“Being with me will only hurt your cause in case you haven’t noticed.” Dalton needed to get back to the ranch where he could be productive. Besides, he wanted to examine the pictures he’d taken in detail. “Good luck.”

There were no sounds of footprints behind him, which meant the detective was standing her ground. “If Sawmill treats this as a suicide, we both lose.”

“He won’t change his mind and especially not with me around,” Dalton said. “It’s a matter of pride at this point.”

“Then we have to think of a way to change it for him.” The despair in her voice nearly cracked the casing that locked down his emotions. He’d buried them so deep in order to survive all these years he was caught off guard that anyone could come close enough to touching that place inside him.

“You’ve never met the guy. He’ll stay the course,” he said.

She shot him a curious glance and he decided not to go into detail about how he knew Sawmill so well. “We need him. I can’t call in favors in Dallas to investigate leads. Not without putting people’s jobs in jeopardy and I won’t do that to my friends. If you and I put our heads together, we might just get somewhere.”

“I have to go to work,” Dalton said, figuring he’d given enough of his time to this lost cause. If she thought he could make an impact with Sawmill, she’d have a better chance without his involvement. That part was true enough.

“My niece is dead because of me. It’s my fault. I should’ve been here. We were supposed to meet and I was late.” Damn, the sound of anguish in her words tugged at him. It was a pull he couldn’t afford. He should walk away right now and not look back.

Instead, he turned around, wishing there was something he could say to ease her pain. “Blaming yourself won’t bring her back. Believe me.”

“Who did that tree take from you?” she asked, and her eyes here wide bright brown orbs.

Dalton started to answer but held back.

“I’ll find out either way. I’m sure there’s been coverage, and I still have resources at the department who can check into a cold case. Why not just tell me and make this easier on both of us?” she asked.

Trying to force his hand was as productive as trying to drink milk from a snake.

“Because it’s none of your damn business.” A surprising explosion of anger rattled against his chest. His blood pressure spiked and adrenaline-heated blood coursed through him.

A grunt-like noise issued from the detective. “This whole situation stinks for both of us, but this could go easier if we work together. And you might just get the answers you need as desperately as I do.”

“Good luck, Detective.” He walked away.

She stalked behind him and poked him on the shoulder.

Dalton stopped but didn’t turn.

“Name your price. I’ll do whatever it takes to get your help.”

Damn that he was about to agree to help her.

* * *

LEANNE WALKED INTO Sawmill’s office ahead of the tall cowboy. She didn’t like the way she could feel his masculine presence behind her without needing to see him. She chalked it up to his intensity and did her level best to move on.

“Thank you for agreeing to see us again, Sheriff.” Leanne held her hand out.

Sawmill politely shook it and greeted them but stopped short of inviting them to sit this time. He stood near the door, making it all too clear that he had nothing else to add and expected this meeting to last a minute or two at best. From the grooves around his eyes, she sensed that his patience was running thin.

“I appreciate how much you have on your plate right now...” she started but was met with a get-on-with-it response in the form of the sheriff leaning back on his heels.

Okay, she could work with his emotions. See if she could get his agreement to move forward with a murder investigation instead of wrapping this case as a suicide.

“We just came from the scene,” Leanne said, figuring the sheriff needed to be aware since the guy who was most likely a reporter had taken a picture of them. “Someone showed up and had his phone out. I’m sure he took a picture but we did what we could to hide my face. The story could leak.”

The news didn’t seem to sit well with the sheriff. He folded his arms in a defensive tactic. He was shoring up his reserves when she was trying to lower his guard by sharing and being honest. All she needed was his word that he would open an investigation.

“I’m sorry about that. It’s not good if my name is linked to the scene and I know it,” she quickly added.

“What were you doing at my scene? What’s the real reason you requested this meeting?” Sawmill asked.

When Leanne hesitated, he added, “I don’t have the resources to follow every bunny trail, including professional courtesy cases. If I did, I’d be more than happy...”

“This isn’t a case of departmental cooperation or respect. I have no intention of wasting your resources or time.” Leanne shouldn’t allow herself to become so heated, but this was Clara. Her sweet niece was never coming back and she knew in her heart Clara hadn’t committed suicide. Leanne suppressed a sob. “I know for a fact that my niece never would’ve done this to herself.”

“I’m listening,” the sheriff said. His posture had improved; she had his ear and she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth by overanalyzing it.

“Gary didn’t like her,” she added, fighting the personal disdain she had for her brother-in-law.

“That’s nothing new in my business,” Sawmill responded flatly. Any hope she had that he could be taking her seriously fizzled.

“Of course it isn’t, but how often do you have a detective telling you there are holes in your case?” she said a little indignant. Damn, why’d she say that? Putting Sawmill on the defensive would only move him further away from her goal.

Dalton touched her arm and heat crackled at the point of contact. “We’re done here. He won’t take you seriously.”

“Whatever’s between us happened in the past, Mr. Butler. This has nothing to do with it.” Sawmill was really on the defensive now. Dalton had struck a chord. She hadn’t thought bringing him into the equation would actually hurt her case, even though he’d insisted that it would.

“We don’t need him to find out what happened,” Dalton said, and his commanding voice sent another jolt rocketing through her, a jolt that couldn’t be more inappropriate under the circumstances.

“I do. I have no intention of working outside the law or putting my career on the line no matter how personal this case is,” she shot back. That was mostly true. She was willing to stretch boundaries when the time was right, but she wasn’t anywhere near there yet.

“There’s no incentive for him to open another murder investigation he can’t solve.” Now the cowboy had stepped on the sheriff’s toes.

But then her rational appeals were netting zero.

“All the resources I have are invested in keeping this town safe while I track down a killer,” Sawmill defended. “A suicide—” he flashed his eyes at Leanne “—no matter how upsetting or personal the case might be, has no place sitting in a murder jacket.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Leanne was taken aback.

“I’m saying that your judgment is compromised and I don’t blame you. There’s a reason it’s against department policy to work on a conflict-of-interest case in every law enforcement agency in the country,” he said, again with that even tone.

It infuriated Leanne, but Dalton touched her arm once more and the spark distracted her for a split second.

“Who knows, you just might solve two cases at once. Forensics has come a long way,” Dalton continued and she was pretty sure the sheriff’s ruddy complexion became even rosier, another sign this meeting was going south. He was right about one thing. Keeping her emotions in check was going to be more difficult than she’d estimated.

“It has.” The sheriff’s tone was steadfast.

“Then we’re wasting our time here like I said before.” There was anger in his voice now as he spoke to the sheriff. “If you won’t believe a detective, I have no chance of convincing you. Besides, I tried once and we both know how that turned out.”

“These cases aren’t related,” Sawmill said.

“Really?” Dalton took a step back. “Same method. Same tree. Same knot. Hell, it was the same day at around the same time. Are you planning to look me in the eye and tell me this is a coincidence?”

Sawmill stared at him but said nothing at first.

And Leanne figured she and Dalton were about to be escorted out the way they had come in when the sheriff lifted his gaze to meet the handsome rancher’s.

He stared for a long moment without saying a word.

And then he issued a sharp sigh. “I owe it to you to take this seriously, Dalton. One of my deputies will pull her cell phone records. We’ll see who she was talking to leading up to last night. There are a few other pieces of evidence I can have processed. If anything comes up to change my initial opinion, you have my word I’ll open a criminal investigation. Between now and then, I’d like to keep this as quiet as possible.”

This was a huge win and she had no plans to push her luck. “Thank you, sir.”

“Let’s see if there’s anything there to be concerned with.” He held up his hands, palms out.

“Anything you can do is appreciated,” Dalton said before escorting Leanne out of the building.

Neither spoke until they reached the safety of the sport utility.

“It’s obvious that you two have history. Do you plan on telling me what any of that was about?”

The doors were locked and the windows were up.

Dalton turned the key in the ignition. “I’d rather talk about our next step. You shouldn’t leave your car at the lot today.”

“What are the chances we can go back to get it unnoticed?” She wondered how much damage there’d be if her name was linked to the case.

“Slim. Especially now that the sun has come up.”

“Did he get my license plate?” Leaving her car there could pose a problem, too.

“Not that I could tell. I was a little preoccupied.” She could’ve sworn a small smirk dented the corner of his lips.

If it did, he suppressed it just as quickly.

She’d been thinking about that kiss, about the contrast of his hard, muscled chest and the tenderness he’d shown when he pressed his lips to hers. About how good he tasted, like coffee and mint...and she shouldn’t be thinking these destructive thoughts right now.

“Where should we go?” She bit back a yawn.

“I’ll drop you off anywhere you want,” he said.

“Can we talk through what happened while the details are fresh?” she asked.

“The ranch needs me,” he said.

What was he up to?

“I can drop you off at your sister’s,” he said.

“After the way we left things, I doubt it,” she responded. “And since I’ll be sticking around a few days, I’ll need a recommendation for a place to stay while my sister cools off.”

There was no way Bethany was going to give Leanne access to Clara’s room after everything she’d said to her half sister.

Besides, Gary had most likely torn it apart already.

* * *

THE BLACK COFFEE burned Dalton’s throat as he took a sip. It felt good. Reminded him that he was alive. He took another, still trying to figure out what he was doing with Leanne West when he should’ve dropped her off so he could examine the photos on his phone in privacy. But then a part of him realized she had a right to know if he found something there. Besides, with her trained eye, she could be useful in evaluating them.

“Thanks for not dropping me off and leaving,” the detective said. “And for everything you’ve been doing to help so far. I never would’ve gotten that far with the sheriff on my own.”

Dalton nodded.

The detective ran her index finger along the rim of her coffee cup. She took hers with cream and two packets of raw sugar. He didn’t want to notice those details about her. She wasn’t a date. And even the women he’d spent time with never stayed long enough for him to figure out their coffee habits. He knew very little about the woman sitting across the booth from him in the empty café off the highway.

There were other details he’d cataloged about her. The fact that she didn’t wear a wedding ring. He told himself the only reason he noticed was because of the kiss—a kiss so hot he didn’t need to think about it, either—and a necessary apology that would have gone to her husband if she’d had one.

Dalton set his cup down. He also noticed that she’d picked at the hem of her navy blazer four times since sitting down and figured she was nervous. Was it because she was with him?

“If we’re going to work together, we should probably know some basics about each other, Detective,” he started, figuring information might come in handy if they somehow separated.

The detective blew out a burst of air. “Okay. First things first, call me Leanne.”

He nodded.

“I’m from Dallas, but you already know that. I have a six-month-old daughter.” She paused long enough to pull out her cell phone and show him a pic of a partially toothed little girl. “Mila.”

“Cute kid,” he said. His newly found half brother, Wyatt, had a six-month-old kid.

“There’s no father,” she said with an awkward half smile. “I mean, there was a father, but he’s not...around.”

“He’s an idiot,” Dalton said before he could stop himself. He probably shouldn’t insult a man he didn’t know, but anyone who could walk out on a face like the one on the cell phone and not look back had to be a first-order jerk.

Leanne shot a warning look, which surprised him and told him there was more to the story. “My neighbor has been a gift. She loves kids, has more grandkids than I have fingers on one hand and she’s keeping Mila for a few days.”

“Sounds like a good setup.”

She nodded. “Other than that, there’s not much to tell. I worked my butt off to make detective before thirty. I’ve been on the job two years, so still earning my stripes to some.” And then turned the tables on him. “What’s your story?”

“You already know my name is Dalton Butler. I have a twin, Dade. We’re identical, so if you bump into someone who looks a helluva lot like me but says he’s not, he’s not lying.” He chuckled at her wide eyes. “What? You’ve never met twins before?”

She made a gesture. “I guess I have. Haven’t known a lot personally.”

“My father was fairly famous in Texas.” He paused before adding, “Infamous in some circles.”

“I heard a lot of good things about him,” she said casually, like it was common knowledge.

She obviously didn’t know the real man. But then, who really did?

“I’m one of six kids, unless someone else comes out of the woodwork before the reading of the Mav’s will on Christmas Eve.” He tried to suppress the anger in his voice and figured he wasn’t doing a great job based on the look she shot him. “Four of us grew up under one roof and had the same mother.”

“Do you work on the farm?” she asked.

“It’s a ranch. And the answer is yes,” he said indignantly, picking up a packet of sugar. He should’ve realized a Dallas detective wouldn’t know much about ranching but calling Hereford a farm was a lot like calling a horse a cow. “All of us do in some capacity, including the new ones.”

A moment of silence passed between the two of them before Leanne’s gaze intensified.

“Why do you care so much about this case?” She pinned him with her stare, and he couldn’t tell if she was looking at him or through him. “Who did you lose?”

“It’s been fourteen years, so the number fourteen might be important,” he said, redirecting the conversation. He tossed the sugar packet on top of the table.