Her Broken Wings

by Hood, D. K.

  Jenna bristled. She had wanted Kane to watch Hall’s reaction, and rather than denying any wrongdoing, the man was glaring at her with malice. “Okay.” She took a beat to shake off the hate radiating from Hall and lifted her gaze to Cross. “Both your clients were in the vicinity of the Stanton Forest murders at the TOD. Both were involved in arguments at their place of work and later at the Triple Z, where there was an altercation witnessed by a number of people. Both your clients have grievances against Lucas Robinson, and they can’t verify their whereabouts during the time he was gunned down in his home.” She gave him a direct stare. “I believe your clients are involved in three murders.”

  “Where’s your evidence?” Cross stabbed a finger into the table. “Do you have anything to prove my clients were at either crime scene?”

  Jenna shook her head. “Not at this time.”

  “Not at this time.” Cross barked out a laugh. “Circumstantial evidence will not amuse the DA. Nor will it convince him to charge my clients. No jury will convict them without evidence.”

  “I asked for a gunshot residue test and they refused.” Jenna glared at him. He was right, of course, but she had to interview suspects to get answers. He was going way over the top. “If they are innocent of the crimes, why not comply?”

  “Because a gunshot residue test from two known shooters would likely show positive, as both my clients have current hunting licenses.” Cross pushed to his feet. “That alone is reasonable doubt. Now, if you’ll open the doors, I’m taking my clients out of here.”

  Jenna stood her ground. “Not yet. I want to speak to Cliff Young. His girlfriend broke up with him over Lucas Robinson. I need to know if he met with Robinson.”

  “I wouldn’t allow you to ask that question, Sheriff.” Cross flicked a glance at Kane and then back to her. “This may be a backwoods town but we don’t allow intimidation from law enforcement.”

  In her periphery, she noticed Kane stiffen just slightly and get slowly to his feet. He had her back as always, and from his cold expression, he wouldn’t allow too many more judgmental remarks from Sam Cross.

  “Why don’t you take a seat, Mr. Cross?”

  “So you can try to intimidate me as well?” Cross glared at Kane.

  Infuriated, Jenna shot up from the table. “I resent that. It’s unprofessional, and I thought you were better than that, Sam. We always treat people with respect. I asked you here because I need to ask questions to eliminate your clients from my inquiries. You’re impeding my investigation. This time you can remove your clients, but rest assured the moment we find evidence against them, the talking is over. I’m taking it straight to the DA for an arrest warrant.” She swiped her card on the scanner and walked into the hallway without a backward glance.

  Twenty-Six

  It had been a long day and Ruby Evans rubbed her sore feet on the bus trip home. Glad the sleet had stopped at last and the evening was clear and crisp, she slipped her shoes on and stood to make her way to the front of the bus. The vehicle slowed with a squeak of brakes and she moved down the steps. The doors banged shut behind her, and as the bus disappeared into the distance, she had the awful sense of being totally alone if someone attacked her.

  It seemed darker than usual, and although the sky was clear, a heavy mist swirled across the blacktop from the forest. Halloween was a few days away, and the mist resembled ghostly forms drifting along the sidewalk as if searching for souls to steal. To make things worse, the streetlights were out between the bus stop and the pathway she took on her way home, through the woods. After the upsetting meeting with the strange man the previous evening, her nerves were on edge. Ruby couldn’t push the thought from her mind that someone was following her again, and she had to force one foot in front of the other along the shadowy sidewalk. As she walked, she searched her purse for her phone; the screen would offer her a modicum of light but the battery was low.

  Ruby walked the fifty yards to the alleyway and stopped, listening for any sound. An owl hooted in the forest and a breeze rustled the leaves, but nothing seemed to move in the darkness. She took a few hesitant steps and then paused, looking ahead at the patch of inviting light from the streetlight, one hundred or so yards away. She could take the long way home. It would take maybe another half an hour, but her feet ached and she had an early shift in the morning. She peered into the darkness. The picturesque walkway she’d taken earlier had turned into a musty-smelling tunnel leading into an unknown void of uncertainty. Should she take the shortcut home and maybe risk running into the strange man again?

  Fear churned her stomach. It was so dark in there, and the canopy of trees hid any hint of light. Anyone could be hiding in the gloom, waiting for an unsuspecting victim to walk by. How easy it would be to pluck her from the pathway and drag her into the bushes. Biting her bottom lip, she sucked in a deep breath as indecision made her falter. Home was on the other side of the alleyway; a meal and a hot bath called to her. She ignored the little voice in her head telling her to avoid dangerous situations, gathered her courage, and entered the pitch-black tunnel. The light from her screen was of little comfort but better than nothing. As she quickened her pace, the blue glow faded and blinked out. Surrounded by a suffocating wall of black, she stuffed the phone inside her bag and, using one hand to guide her, she hurried along the wall of leafless bushes, stretching her eyes wide to see in the dark.

  The musty smell of rotting vegetation filled her nostrils, and underfoot wet leaves covered this part of the gravel path, muffling the sound of her shoes and the footsteps of anyone following her. Rising panic made it hard to breathe. She had to get out of the claustrophobic tunnel and increased her pace, stumbling over the uneven pathway. Petrified of every creak of the surrounding tree branches, she moved forward and then her hand touched fabric. A hint of cologne drifted on the air. She froze, too terrified to speak. Under her palm, the fabric moved and a low chuckle came on a breath, so close she could feel the warmth of it on her cheek.

  “Hello, Ruby.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Friday morning

  Jenna ducked and then spun on one foot, aiming a kick at Kane’s head. The next moment his large hand gripped her foot and flipped her face down. The mat made a whooshing sound as Kane’s two-hundred and fifty pounds landed beside her, pinning her with ease. “Dammit, Kane, let’s try that again. I’m getting slow.”

  “It’s to be expected.” Kane rolled to his feet and offered her his hand. “You can’t expect to be in top shape when you work on cases half the night.”

  She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. “You do.”

  “True but I’m used to surviving on no sleep.” Kane pushed a hand through his damp hair. “I just need food and I’m good.” He grabbed a towel from the back of the chair and smiled at her. “I’ll hit the showers. The horses are squared away and it’s your turn to cook breakfast.” He glanced at his watch. “Then I guess it’s a meet-and-greet with the handyman.”

  Jenna watched him walk away and then headed to her bathroom. Although he hadn’t said another word about allowing Tom Dickson to work at the ranch, he’d spent a great deal of time checking the security on her house and his cottage. They both had installed a home security alert on their phones. If Dickson decided to wander near either home, they’d know, and he’d be under CCTV surveillance. She wasn’t in the least worried, but she’d seen the concern in Kane’s eyes. The thing with Kane, he was always on the job. It would’ve come from his time protecting POTUS, no doubt, but she wished sometimes he’d just loosen up. She’d seen his gentle side and he had a vulnerability. He’d place his body in front of a bullet to protect the innocent and she feared, one day, someone would use it against him.

  * * *

  As Jenna closed the dishwasher door and set it working, she glanced at the clock. “Dickson will be here in about thirty minutes.” She turned to speak to Kane but he held a finger to his lips and pointed at Duke.

  She stared at the dog. It was as if he’d
frozen in time, and from his raised hackles and the low rumbling growl, something was wrong. She pulled her weapon, slid to the back door, and checked the locks. When she returned to the kitchen Kane indicated with hand signals to move along the hallway and into her home office. Keeping her back to the wall, she eased inside. She studied the array of CCTV cameras, showing all the external areas. Only the horses moved around in the corral; she couldn’t see anyone near the house. “All areas clear.”

  “He’s indicating toward the front door.” Kane moved to her side. “I can’t see anyone out there either, but I trust Duke—he senses more than people.”

  A shiver of a memory caught Jenna unawares. She’d once hit a tripwire and set off an explosive device, sending them sky-high. “A bomb?”

  “No one could get in here undetected unless they dropped something using a drone.” Kane frowned. “I’m pretty sure that’s the only way in unless someone used a chopper, and then they’d have tripped the motion sensors.”

  When Duke barked and ran at the door, Jenna exchanged a puzzled look with Kane. “Do you figure he’s ill or something? Do dogs go crazy?”

  “Only with rabies and he’s had his shots.” Kane walked to the door, peered through the window, and then turned and raised both eyebrows at her. “I’ve found the problem. It’s that black cat. It just peeked its head out from under the porch.”

  Jenna frowned. “Poor thing is probably starving.”

  “Not likely—they are superb hunters and there are plenty of mice and rats in the barn.” Kane looked again and then frowned. “It might be hurt. It’s covered in blood.”

  “Blood? Hold onto Duke.” Jenna hurried to the door and opened it. “Puss, come here, puss.” She bent and held out one hand.

  Instead of coming to her, the cat bounded away and she could see its tail waving above the long grass in the direction of the Old Mitcham Ranch. Jenna straightened and stared at Kane. “It’s not acting as if its hurt. I hope nothing has happened to its owner.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to check.” Kane stared in the direction the cat had gone.

  “Okay, we’ll drop by the Old Mitcham Ranch on the way to the office. We haven’t met the new owner yet.” She trunked back to him. “I wonder if they’ve gotten a pile of black cats for Halloween and left them there?”

  “Maybe.” Kane glanced at his watch. “I doubt the owner would stay there. There’s a crew working out of trailers turning it into a Halloween attraction.” He grinned at her. “Woo woo. Let’s hope the curse hasn’t taken them yet.”

  Jenna shook her head. “That’s not funny.”

  The buzzer sounded at the gate and Jenna went to the small screen set beside the front door. She peered at the man staring at her from the window of his truck. “It’s Dickson.” She pressed the button to unlock the gates. “I’m glad he’s early. I want to get over to the Old Mitcham Ranch just in case something has happened. The cat was upset about something.”

  “Hmm. It was making enough noise.” Kane frowned at her. “Unfortunately, I don’t speak cat.”

  Jenna grabbed his coat from the peg in the mudroom and tossed it to him before getting her own. “Neither do I.” She set the alarm and opened the front door. “Cats are more intelligent than you think.”

  “Yeah, but if it’s witnessed a bloody murder, getting it to testify in court is gonna be a problem.” Kane chuckled and followed her down the steps.

  They greeted Tom Dickson and Jenna explained what they needed him to do. She pointed out the sandwiches and drinks she’d left in the refrigerator. “See how you go. Get as much done as you are able but I don’t expect you to work all day. We’ll finish up this weekend. I’ll leave cash with Maggie at the front desk, same deal as before.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff.” Dickson touched his hat and talked slow. “I’ll be working alongside Deputy Rowley on Saturday, and next week Maggie has found me a few days’ work out at the livery stable.” He peered at her over his glasses. “You’ve all been mighty kind to me, ma’am.”

  Jenna looked at the old man and smiled. “That’s great. We’ll leave you to it.” She walked away and heard low voices behind her but didn’t turn around and headed for Kane’s truck.

  “Hmm.” Kane slid behind the wheel.

  Jenna turned to look at him. It was obvious from his grim expression he was annoyed. “What?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about.” Kane started the engine and drove down the driveway, staring straight ahead.

  “Uh-huh, so I’m going to get combat-face Kane all day, am I?” Jenna sighed. “Loosen up, Dave. It’s me, Jenna. He said something to you, didn’t he?”

  “Oh yeah, he said something.” Kane glanced at her and then looked back at the road. “Nothing for you to worry about, he’s just an old man is all. Probably going senile and lost his filter.”

  Jenna sat back in the seat and stared out the window. It was a short drive to the next ranch and Jenna’s mind was running at maximum speed. “If he said something about me, I need to know. I’m recommending him for employment. My reputation is on the line.”

  The truck stopped with a jolt and Kane turned in his seat and looked at her. Annoyed by his stubbornness, she met his gaze. “Don’t go all macho on me, Dave, it doesn’t work. I can order you to tell me.”

  “Yeah, I guess you can. Fine. He asked me how I kept my cool with you ordering me around all the time.” Kane’s gaze didn’t leave her face. “And how I felt being kept in my own little house like your prize stallion.”

  Shocked, Jenna stared at him. “After all we’ve done for him, he said that? He’s a strange one. He probably never had a filter. He was likely raised to believe women should be chained to the kitchen sink.” She frowned. “Do you want me to ask him to leave?”

  “Nope.” Kane turned the truck back on the highway. “He’s just an old man, and I’m sure he was just teasing me.” He snorted. “I’m not easily provoked but he got under my skin is all.”

  Mind reeling, Jenna looked at him. “You don’t think that, do you?”

  To her surprise, Kane laughed.

  She turned in her seat. “What’s so funny?”

  “I’m the luckiest man on Earth.” Kane flicked her a glance. “I came here broken and you gave me a place to live. You nursed me back to health when I’d lost my memory. I’m not perfect but you don’t care. Most women would’ve given up on me after six months but you understand me.” He turned into the Old Mitcham Ranch. “You don’t care you’re living with a killer, albeit, a government assassin. There are no secrets between us—well, apart from my real name—and we’re happy. So, who cares what people think?”

  Jenna sighed. “Well, I sure don’t give a damn and I don’t believe the townsfolk do either.” As they drove past the line of trailers, she looked at him. “I thought this place would be a hive of activity. Where is everyone?”

  “Not sure.” Kane moved the truck closer to the dilapidated ranch house. “Maybe it’s finished or they’re working inside.”

  Jenna’s attention moved over the elaborate Halloween decorations on the front porch of the Old Mitcham Ranch. A skeleton hung inside the window, and the ghoulish mannequins sitting upright in chairs looked so real among the grinning jack-o’-lanterns. She stared as they got closer and her stomach did flip-flops at the sight of a blood trail on the front steps. It looked too real somehow, and the next moment the smell of death seeped into the cab. “Err, Dave, I don’t think the dead bodies are Halloween decorations.”

  Twenty-Eight

  Shots rang out and a tree beside the truck shattered into a million pieces. Wood splinters rained down on the truck in a strange brown dust.

  “Dammit!” Jenna scanned the area, looking for the shooter. “Get us out of here.”

  More shots peppered the ground, sending up plumes of dust. “Move it, Kane. With the sun in my eyes, I can’t see if it’s coming from the ridge. We’re sitting ducks here. Go, go, go.”

  “Hold tight. This is gonna be rough.” Kane s
pun the wheel and hit the gas.

  As the truck reversed at speed, Jenna ducked down and gripped the seat. The engine roared as they flew backward, bumping over the uneven driveway. “Did you make out the shooter?”

  “No.” Kane had turned to look out the back window. “Rifle, from the west I figure.”

  Jenna looked up at his grim face. “Get us out of range. Head back to the ranch. We’ll suit up and get backup.”

  The truck rotated and rocked for a second and then, wheels spinning in the dirt, careered down the driveway. Trees rushed by in a blur and the truck bounced like a bucking bronco as Kane maneuvered over the deep grooves. Thrown forward, Jenna hit her head on the console but held on for dear life as the world turned again. The truck seemed to rise at the front as Kane pushed it to full speed. They slid onto the highway, drifting around the corner and fishtailing in a scream of tires as he accelerated away from the carnage. A wave of nausea hit her and she looked up at Kane’s combat face. “We good?”

  “If he’s on the ridge, we will be once we make our driveway.” Kane didn’t take his eyes off the road.

  “I’ll call the cavalry.” Jenna eased her cellphone out of her pocket and called Rowley. “Shots fired. We need backup, my ranch. No sirens. Call Wolfe. Tell him to bring Webber and pack for bear. Wear full gear including com packs. We have a mass murder at the Old Mitcham Ranch.”

  “Holy cow. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Move it.” Jenna disconnected.

  “Okay, we’re coming up to our gate now.” Kane slowed to make the ninety-degree turn and then hit the brakes, waiting for the gate to swing open.

  Jenna pushed up and rubbed her forehead. “Okay, what is your take on the scene? It sure looked like a mass murder to me.”

  “From what I could see, the men on the porch are all headshots. I’d say the killer allowed the woman to bleed out. The blood is fresh.”