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Cooper’s Redemption (Crimson Romance)

Page 2

by D'Ann Lindun


  Before he could make further comment, the woman whipped a cell phone out of her pocket and dialed. “There’s a body on my property. Yes, I said a body. I don’t know what happened, or when, but his head’s split open. No, I didn’t discover it. No, I’m not alone. I don’t know his name. Hurry. My name is Elizabeth Adams.”

  Cooper’s ears rang and his jaw went slack. He fought for control. Elizabeth Adams. The only niece of Henry Harper. When she found out who he was he might as well pack. He’d be headed behind the walls of Canon City prison before he could say, “I didn’t do it.”

  Chapter 2

  Deputy Tom Harper responded to Elizabeth Adam’s 911 call, and upon his arrival, read Cooper his rights and handcuffed him to a ladder-back chair in the kitchen. He repeatedly asked the same questions. He made Elizabeth wait in the living room, out of earshot, until a car pulled up a few minutes ago and she’d gone outside to meet the new arrival.

  “I want my lawyer.” Cooper braced himself. Years of learning patience had given him the strength to withstand anything — even the deputy’s relentless grilling.

  “This ain’t Law and Order. You’ll get a lawyer when I say you get one.” Harper hammered at him with rapid-fire intensity, refusing to give him a chance to respond. “I want a straight answer,” he demanded again.

  “When I have an attorney.” Cooper swayed in his chair. With an effort, he righted himself. His shoulders ached. He’d been up riding since dawn. There wasn’t an explanation Harper wanted to hear. The deputy thought he’d found a way to even the score.

  “What were you doing? Hunting cows, you said? Isn’t the truth you were coming back to the scene of the original crime? To see where you did in Uncle Henry? Did you get a taste of blood, like a renegade coyote, and want some more? Was my brother as easy to kill as my Uncle Henry? Easy pickings?” Harper grabbed the front of Cooper’s shirt and twisted until the top three buttons popped off.

  “I came to see if any of my cattle were here. Like I already told you.” Cooper stared at his ruined shirt. The old, worn-out chambray was one of his favorites.

  “I can’t say it any other way.”

  Harper glared at him. Cooper made an effort to concentrate on something besides his aching shoulders. He had been bound to the chair for almost an hour. His back felt like it was about to split open like a ripe cantaloupe, but he wouldn’t allow the deputy to see his misery. He bit the inside of his cheek, a trick he’d learned as a child.

  A gleaming white coffee pot seemed out of place in the old kitchen, but the recently-brewed coffee sure smelled good. He desperately wished for a cup. He tore his gaze away and stared at the God-awful Formica counter tops. The room looked much the same as the last time he’d been in it. Bea had been so proud of the gaudy avocado-colored refrigerator Henry had bought her that she’d painted the kitchen to match.

  “I’m going to throw your ass in jail and see if that loosens your tongue,” Harper threatened.

  Cooper steeled himself. The loss of his freedom scared him more than he cared to admit. He had vowed to never be locked up again after he escaped his mother’s torture chamber. The wide open spaces and freedom had drawn him to ranching. Harper might try to trick him into a false admission of guilt, but Cooper would control himself at all costs. He forced his lips shut. He’d say or do nothing that would incriminate him.

  The door opened, and a gust of wind chilled the room. “What in God’s name is going on in here?”

  Cooper lifted his chin and met the horrified gaze of Elizabeth Adams. If she’d been terrified in the barn, she appeared even worse now. She looked like she’d seen an abomination. He guessed she wasn’t used to seeing a half-dressed man hog-tied to one of her kitchen chairs.

  Her eyes flashed and her pale cheeks turned bright pink. “I asked you a question, Deputy. Is this the way the police do business in this part of the country? If so, it’s no wonder you can’t find my mother.”

  Behind her stood Sheriff Pete Marlowe, his eyes cold under thick white eyebrows. His long legs covered the room in two strides. “Let him go, Harper. Now.”

  The deputy unlocked the handcuffs. “I found him standing over my brother’s body. I’m just trying to get an answer.”

  “By tying a man up like a dog? I’m sorry about Lyle, but this isn’t how I run things. I’ll deal with you later.” He turned to Cooper. “You all right?”

  Cooper nodded. He refrained from rolling his shoulders or rubbing his wrists. “You playing the good cop?”

  “Remarks like that’ll get you sitting in a cell faster than you can open that smart mouth again. Start from the beginning and tell me what happened here tonight.”

  Cooper glanced again at the coffee pot, but no one offered him any. He sagged back into the chair and tried to gather his thoughts. His gaze settled on the woman. She’d taken off her coat and hat. Her reddish-blond hair put him in mind of a summer sunset and her knockout figure could almost make him forget his aching body. For some reason it mattered she knew he hadn’t killed Pritchett.

  “Deputy, take Miss Adams in the other room until I come get you,” Sheriff Marlowe demanded.

  With one last glare at Cooper, Harper complied. The woman gave him a compassionate look before she was guided away.

  Cooper said, “I want an attorney.”

  • • •

  Elizabeth watched as Sheriff Marlowe settled himself on the sofa. “I’d like to hear your version of what went on here tonight.”

  She nodded. “A strange man — the dead one — came to my door and asked me if I had anything he could do to make some money. He gave me the creeps, so I sent him away. Later, when I heard a dog bark, I thought it might be him again. It took me a couple minutes to find the flashlight.” She nodded toward the kitchen where she could see the stranger sitting. “That’s when I found this other man in my barn.”

  “Did you see a herd of cows here today? Or hear them?” Sarcasm dripped from Tom’s voice. He held a hand about three feet off the ground. “They’re about so tall, red or black. They make a lot of noise. Moo, moo.”

  She glanced at him. “No, I — ”

  “How did you find Cooper?” Sheriff Marlowe interrupted.

  “What do you mean? Oh, you mean the second man?”

  Marlowe nodded. “What was he doing when you first saw him?” He flipped open a small notepad and clicked a pen.

  She frowned. “He was standing over Mr. Pritchett.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She bit her lip, then spoke. “Well, when I shined my light he was sort of … hovering over the … body … I mean … his hands were … bloody. Nevertheless, I don’t think he did any harm to anyone,” she added.

  “Why not?” Marlowe stared at her.

  Her eyes met Cooper’s. From across two rooms, she held his steady gaze for a long moment. A flush burned across her face and she focused her attention back on the sheriff. “I saw the expression on his face. He didn’t have the look of a murderer, or the air of one. I sense there’s no way he could’ve killed that man.”

  “That’s interesting, Elizabeth.” Deputy Harper sneered. “Because you’re looking at the man who did in Uncle Henry. And Lyle? Your cousin? That man in there is the one I warned you to stay away from.”

  Lyle was her cousin? Her gaze once again collided with Cooper’s. She considered him another minute, then turned to Tom. “In spite of how you feel about that, I stand by my statement. I don’t believe this man had time to kill anyone today.”

  Sheriff Marlowe sighed and said, “I think we need to continue this downtown. Deputy, see that Cooper’s horse gets home.”

  • • •

  Marlowe leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the table. “Let’s hear it one more time, Cooper.”

  “I’ve told you everything.” Cooper had been over the details of his arrival on the Harper ranch until he wanted to pound the table in frustration. They ignored his repeated requests for a lawyer. Midnight passed hours ago and his ey
es burned. He refused to be beaten down and tricked into a false confession.

  Marlowe studied him for a moment. “Your hot head has gotten you in trouble before, Cooper. You’re lucky you got off on the last murder rap. It won’t happen again. Did Lyle owe you some money? Make you mad? Didn’t finish a job, maybe? What happened? Lose your temper and bash him on the head, just like Henry? The question is, why in Harper’s barn? Did you arrange to meet, thinking no one would look out there?”

  “I didn’t have any problems with Lyle.” Cooper knew protesting was useless. Marlowe had made up his mind. The sheriff was going to send him straight to prison. He was the only suspect in two deaths in a little over four months. His future didn’t look good.

  “We had you clean to rights last time,” Marlowe said. “Your first mistake was letting everyone in three counties hear you tell Henry Harper you’d get him. I admit, you’ve been quieter this time, but this dirty business has your signature written all over it. Not to mention, you’re covered in his blood.”

  “I didn’t kill Lyle,” Cooper repeated. He’d wiped his palms on his jeans from when he fell. His ears rang, and his vision blurred as Marlowe continued to hammer at him. He hadn’t murdered Henry Harper, but no one had believed him that time either. If there had been any concrete evidence tying him to Henry’s death, he would’ve been locked up in Canon City faster than a coyote could catch a rabbit.

  Deputy Harper came to the door and beckoned Marlowe. Over the sheriff’s shoulder, Harper’s cold eyes locked with Cooper’s own. A chill shimmied up his spine as he realized the deputy was out to pin this murder on him at any cost.

  • • •

  Elizabeth fumed.

  Where had the sheriff and his deputy disappeared to? He’d ordered her to follow him into Salt Lick to discuss a few more details. Her hands shook as she poured herself a cup of coffee that resembled tar. She couldn’t control her tremors. They’d left her cooling her heels for over an hour, and she was getting angrier by the minute. Where was their concern when she’d come here first thing upon her arrival in Salt Lick and asked for help?

  Were they still questioning the mysterious Cooper? If they had held him as long as they had her, she wouldn’t blame him for being angry. She shook her head, trying to force her thoughts away from him. But stubbornly, her mind wouldn’t let go of him.

  She hadn’t expected the first man to pique her interest in ages to be a raw, dangerous suspected killer. He was not the kind of man she would ever think about dating. Granted, she hadn’t expected to meet men in Salt Lick, Colorado who wore three-piece suits and manicured their nails. She’d expected real men like John Wayne and Clint Eastwood. Maybe even Emilio Estevez.

  Cowboys.

  She’d found one all right.

  An unfamiliar tingle jolted her. Why was she even thinking of Cooper? She must be crazy from worry and lack of sleep. He was the man blamed for killing her uncle. And now he was accused in another murder. Even if she did find the rancher intriguing, it would be disloyal to further any relationship with him.

  If she were honest, she would admit Cooper frightened her. Tension visibly rippled under his skin, and she’d feared sending him into a rage. No, that wasn’t right. He had shown exactly how much control he had when Tom held him cuffed to the chair. There was something about Cooper that was … fascinating.

  She knew he owned the ranch next door, but there were several hundred acres separating them. They had no reason to come in contact. In fact, she planned to avoid him. He had trouble written all over him in capital letters. She had enough problems of her own without getting caught up in the middle of this mess.

  All the western movies she’d always loved idealized this area, made it seem so perfect, so safe. Now she realized that nowhere was unexposed to violence. Had her mother come face-to-face with ugliness? What had happened to her? Elizabeth shuddered just thinking about the possibilities. She set her mug on the scarred table, determined to go home when the door swung open. Sheriff Marlowe entered, accompanied by a white-haired, stocky man.

  “Sorry for the delay,” the sheriff said.

  Elizabeth nodded. She arched her brows at the second man, but no introductions were made. “How much longer, Sheriff? It’s been a very long night. I’d like to go home.”

  “Soon, Miss Adams. Just a few questions if you don’t mind.” He gestured toward a chair. “Sit down.”

  Bristling at his tone, she sat. “I’m not going to answer anything until you tell me if you’ve heard anything about my mother.”

  He straddled the chair apposite her. “Like I explained every time you’ve come in, Miss Adams, I can’t tell you what I don’t know. What more can I say?”

  “You’re still looking?” She didn’t believe him any more than she had the first time they’d met and he’d brushed off her fears like gnats at a picnic. He’d insisted Lillian Adams had gone back to L.A. The only problem being her things were still here. Including her suitcase and her clothes.

  “I haven’t gotten a single lead. Now, start at the beginning and tell me how you came to be in your barn with Lyle Pritchett and Cooper.”

  Seeing that nothing had changed in the week since she’d first come here for help, Elizabeth bit her lip and concentrated. “It was about five this afternoon, just starting to get a little dark. A storm was building when Mr. Pritchett came to my door and asked me if I needed any help around the house. I told him no. Frankly, he frightened me a little, and I told him to leave.”

  “What, specifically, scared you?”

  “I’ve lived in Los Angeles all my life, Sheriff. A woman learns to be cautious. Mr. Pritchett arrived out of the blue and he looked … unsavory. Also, my mother came here to do some routine business and she’s disappeared. I’m a bit jumpy. I’m sure you understand.”

  He nodded. “Go on. What do you mean by ‘unsavory’?”

  “Unclean. Desperate. He seemed a little … off. I watched until he went out of sight. Then I bolted the front door, and went through the house to make sure the back door and windows were also secure. I waited a few minutes before I went outside.”

  “What made you go to the barn?” Marlowe made a note.

  “It was almost time to feed my uncle’s horse, so I dug around for a flashlight. Probably a total of five or ten minutes.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I looked through the kitchen window, but I couldn’t see anyone. After I waited for another minute or so, I heard a dog bark. I went to check it out.”

  “Did Cooper have enough time to murder Lyle before you got there?” Marlowe’s expression was intent.

  She stared back at him. “No.”

  “How are you so sure?”

  “Because, as I said, I went out right after I heard the dog. I saw someone at the barn door. I thought it was Lyle again, but it was Mr. Cooper. I followed him inside, and that’s when I found him with the body.”

  “Wait a minute. You said you were scared. And you went to the barn alone, unarmed?” He arched his gray brows at her.

  “I wasn’t unarmed,” Elizabeth said. “I had a heavy-duty flashlight with me.”

  Marlowe snorted. “What makes you think you could protect yourself with that?”

  “I didn’t have anything else handy.” She didn’t mention she’d taken self-protection courses and carried a can of mace in her pocket.

  “What time was this?”

  “About five-fifteen. I know because I always feed the horse at five sharp. I glanced at the clock when Mr. Pritchett left.”

  “The victim first showed up at your house at what time?” The second man silent until now, sat forward in his chair, eyes focused on her like twin sabers.

  “About four-forty-five. Right before five at the latest.”

  “How do you know so certainly?”

  Elizabeth thought back. “Because I was in town until four. I stopped by the grocery store and I was inside about fifteen minutes. Then came home. I had just changed my clothes and sa
t down with a cup of coffee when I heard him knock. I guess all that adds up to about an hour.”

  Marlowe glanced at the other man. “You agree with that, Doc?”

  The white-haired man nodded. “I think the time of death was between three and five.”

  Elizabeth stared at him. “You’re the coroner? An autopsy has already been done tonight?” Her throat constricted. Once again she had been no help when someone needed her.

  He nodded. “I’ve done a preliminary exam. Body temperature is accurate enough I feel secure about the time of death.”

  Sheriff Marlowe added, “There are a slew of witnesses who saw her in town. Cooper’s the one with no alibi.”

  “I already told you he didn’t come along until about five,” Elizabeth said.

  “Yes, but can you prove it?” Marlowe leaned close. “You’re sticking up mighty hard for someone who might’ve killed two of your family members. Why is that?”

  “I have no reason to lie,” she responded tightly. “Besides, I didn’t know anything about Mr. Cooper until tonight. We’d never met, and he didn’t introduce himself to me.”

  Why was she defending Cooper so valiantly? Maybe it was her anger at the way this department was handling her mom’s disappearance. Not to mention the way Deputy Harper tied Cooper to one of kitchen chairs had been just plain wrong. Of course she knew about police violence. She’d grown up in a city famous for it, but she hadn’t expected it in Salt Lick, Colorado. She hadn’t liked watching her cousin hurting a defenseless man.

  She sipped her coffee and choked. Defenseless. That word didn’t fit Cooper. He reminded her of a chained mountain cat. Dangerous. Untamable. No one would ever call him beautiful, but he oozed sex appeal. His features were rugged, sharp like the Colorado peaks. She had been awed by his ripped physique. She knew men in California who would pay thousands to a personal trainer to help them attain abs like his.

 

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