Curtis shrugged. “Just people.”
“It’s not up to us to speculate. It’s Harris’s job to sort out the facts. Obviously I’m staying out of it.”
“Obviously.”
It seemed to her that Curtis’s comment came with a sneer of sarcasm, but she didn’t call him on it. She’d rather people say stuff like this to her face than behind her back.
But unfortunately, it seemed there were plenty of people doing both.
B.J.’s version of the facts might clear her brother in the eyes of the law, but the family reputation was more soiled than ever.
* * *
AT THE OFFICE, Savannah checked her messages before heading for home. It was past eight o’clock and she was tired, hungry and dispirited. It seemed that no matter how good she was at her job, she couldn’t stop people from gossiping about her and her family.
Her mood lifted, though, when she saw a second car parked next to Hunter’s truck in the driveway. Regan was back!
She found her sister, Murray and Hunter on the front porch, drinking beer and eating nachos. Savannah ran right for her sister and gave her a big hug. “You’re home!”
“Yup. Sooner than expected.”
Had she and Murray fought? But they both seemed happy. Come to think of it, even Hunter had a smug smile on his face.
“What’s going on?” She looked from one sibling to the other. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”
Regan held up her smartphone. “I got an email from the University of Washington two days ago.”
“Really?” It could mean only one thing. “They accepted you into med school?”
“Sure did,” Murray said, sounding proud. “Soon as she found out, Regan turned the car around and headed home.”
“Looks like I’m going to need every dime I can earn, after all.” Regan had such a big grin on her face that Savannah realized it had been unfair of her to assume that her little sister had given up on her dream.
She’d just been afraid of not getting the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world. And so she’d run off on a trip and tried to pretend it didn’t matter that much.
Oh, how Savannah could relate to that.
“Well, let’s celebrate!”
“We already are.” Hunter held up his beer can.
“Hang on. I have something even better.” She’d bought a bottle of bubbly back in the winter when Regan had first sent out her applications. Back then, Savannah had assumed an acceptance at all three universities was a given.
Instead, they’d gone through months of endless waiting followed by the agonizing disappointment of two refusals.
But none of that mattered now. Her sister was going to med school!
An hour later, the bottle of bubbly was gone, along with the nachos and several frozen pizzas. Some of the elation was starting to fade, as well.
“I’ve been going through the numbers,” Regan said. “I’m going to have to apply for a lot of loans.”
“No, you won’t.” Savannah told her siblings about her plan. She was going to sell the property and divide up the proceeds.
“But if we sell this place, where will you live?” Regan asked.
“I’ll rent someplace. Probably not here. I’d like to try a different county. Maybe I’ll follow you to Washington.”
Regan’s eyes narrowed. “But you love it here.”
“I love being a sheriff. It doesn’t have to be here.”
“But people know you in Coffee Creek. How will you get elected if you go somewhere new?”
“Then I’ll get hired somewhere as a deputy. Work my way up.”
“But you’ve already done that! I don’t understand why you’d want to start at the bottom again.”
“Because of me, that’s why.” Hunter slammed a beer bottle on the porch railing. “She’s afraid she won’t get reelected because people think I killed that kid in the barn.”
“But that was forever ago.” Regan had been a kid back then. But she obviously remembered.
“A watch turned up on eBay,” Savannah explained to her sister. “It led to a private investigator identifying the body of the man who died in the fire. So now the case has been reopened. I doubt that there’s enough evidence to lay charges. But people are talking. Wondering how that boy ended up in that loft.”
Regan turned disbelieving eyes to her older brother.
“It was B. J. Lambert,” Hunter insisted. “He lured the kid out there so he could steal his watch and wallet. And then he set the fire. He did it all, but still everyone in this damn town blames me.”
“I don’t understand.” Regan looked to Savannah to explain, but she just shrugged. None of this sat right with her. But how could she call her own brother out as a liar? She hadn’t been there. She wished to God she had been.
“I think Vanna has the right idea,” Hunter mumbled. “We should all leave this town and never look back.”
Chapter Fifteen
Thursday afternoon, as he crested a hill about a quarter mile from the barn, B.J. could see the patrol car parked by the house. Two figures were standing next to the car, apparently in conversation.
Griff rode up beside him. “That doesn’t look good.”
“No, it doesn’t.” B.J. urged Big Black forward, and Griff and Jay followed with their mounts, half a head behind him. They’d just finished moving the mares and their offspring to the summer grazing pastures.
B.J. had been looking forward to barbecuing a big steak for dinner.
But he guessed that wasn’t going to happen.
The two people by the patrol car had spotted them and were now walking toward the home barn. It didn’t take long for B.J. to make out his petite mother. The short, barrel-chested man beside her was Rex Harris.
B.J. swore.
At the barn, the three men dismounted. Jay came up to him and offered to take care of Big Black. “Seems like you have other matters to tend to.”
B.J. couldn’t argue with that. He handed over the reins with a nod of thanks and went around the barn to where his mother and Rex were waiting.
Rex stepped forward. “Son, I’m afraid I have to bring you in for more questioning.”
B.J. bristled at being called “son” by a man a mere ten years older than he was. “I already gave my statement.”
“Unfortunately, it contradicts the statement given by the only other man there that night.”
“This is outrageous.” Olive was steaming mad. The high color on her cheekbones suggested she’d been arguing with Rex for some time now. Her eyes fairly snapped as she looked from Rex to B.J. “Obviously Hunter Moody is lying.”
“Someone has the truth a little mixed-up,” Rex agreed. “But I still need to talk to your son.”
Olive gave B.J. a look of frustration. He could imagine what was going on in her mind...this is what happens when you fraternize with people like the Moodys. But what she actually said was “I’ve already called a lawyer. Don’t talk to this man until he gets here.”
“We can wait for the lawyer at the courthouse,” Rex said. “B.J., I’ll need you to come with me now.”
B.J. was sore and tired after a long day of riding. He was so dusty he could feel the grit every time he closed his eyes. “Give me ten minutes to shower first. I’ve been out riding since seven this morning.”
Rex hesitated. Maybe he was thinking how bad his car would smell if he didn’t say yes, because finally he nodded. “Ten more minutes won’t hurt, I guess. You go ahead. I’ll wait in the car.”
* * *
SAVANNAH WENT HOME A FEW HOURS early on Thursday. She had an appointment with the Realtor who had contacted her on behalf of Sam O’Neil. She’d given herself time to tidy up the place before the woman arrived.
There were no cars in the driveway when she drove up to her home. She had no idea where Hunter could be, but she knew Regan was working. Regan had texted her earlier with the good news that Straws had given both her and Murray their jobs back. Not only that but he’d also agreed to schedule her for extra hours to make up for the money she’d lost by taking her trip.
Savannah was happy for her sister, and very proud. At least life was going in the right direction for one member of the Moody family. Really, it was all she had the right to ask for.
So why did she feel so crappy?
She was just being selfish. She’d be fine starting over in a new place. As for B.J.—she’d survived eighteen years without him. She could do it again.
But it wouldn’t be easy. She wondered what he was doing right now.
Was he thinking of her? Did he miss her?
Not likely. In his mind she’d betrayed him by not believing his version of the facts over her brother. Which wasn’t fair. If he’d wanted her to believe him, then he should have told her the truth from the beginning.
Something, she was sure, he still hadn’t done.
She sighed as she opened the back door, and her bad mood totally tanked when she saw the state of the kitchen.
The place was a disaster. Hunter had obviously made omelets for breakfast. He’d used every bowl in the kitchen, and there were bits of grated cheese and chopped onion scattered on the floor. Some of the raw-egg mixture had spilled and cooked onto the stove. And the dirty frying pan was sitting in the sink on top of a stack of dishes.
Great. She had a little less than two hours before the Realtor showed up and she hadn’t counted on spending all that time in the kitchen.
Savannah tackled the dirty dishes first, then the dining room and living area. Her room was fine—she’d made the bed that morning—but her basket of laundry was overflowing. She carried it downstairs, intending to start a load of whites. But the washing machine was full of damp clothing.
Hunter’s, of course.
She tried to transfer them to the dryer, but it was stuffed, too. Damn it, couldn’t her brother do anything around here?
Savannah folded his dry clothes for him, then stuck the wet ones in and started the machine. Within a few seconds an annoying clanking sound made it clear that he hadn’t emptied his pockets of all his change.
She opened the dryer door and searched for the offending item.
Sure enough, it was a coin. But a foreign-looking gold one.
Savannah leaned against the dryer, suddenly feeling weak and very, very foolish. This coin was just like the one B.J. had found in the loft the day they’d given the old barn a good search. She still had that coin in the evidence room at work.
She made her way upstairs and out to the porch, where she sank into a wicker chair and tried to think.
But there was only one way Hunter could have got his hands on this coin.
She lifted her head at the sound of an approaching vehicle. She was expecting to see the Realtor. But it was Hunter’s old truck. Her brother parked, then stepped out with a swagger. She noticed his cast was off. He’d been to the doctor.
“Good as new,” he said, flexing his arm as he headed toward the porch. He paused when he saw the expression on her face.
She held out the coin for him to see.
“You found my lucky coin. Hey, thanks.” He went to take it from her, but she snatched it away.
“Where did you get this, Hunter?”
Something dark, like fear or dread, flashed in his eyes. And then he was grinning again. “Hell if I can remember. I’ve had that thing forever. It’s brought me lots of good luck on the rodeo circuit. I never ride without it.” He reached out again. “Give it back.”
She hesitated. She could give him this coin and never say a word about it to anyone.
They could carry on with their plan. Regan off to be a doctor, her working as a deputy, maybe somewhere close to Regan in Seattle. And Hunter riding the circuit again.
She didn’t think B.J. would end up being prosecuted for arson or the death of Travis McBride. There wasn’t enough evidence. Even if there were, with B.J.’s good reputation and the Lamberts’ ability to hire a top attorney, he’d get off for sure.
But how far was she willing to go to protect her brother?
Was being respectable only a matter of what other people thought of you?
Or what you thought of yourself?
Savannah closed her fist over the coin. Then tucked it into the front pocket of her jeans.
“What the hell are you doing?” Hunter grabbed her shoulder, hard enough to hurt.
She shook him off. “Forget it, Hunter. I’m onto you. Really, I knew a lot earlier—I just didn’t want to admit it.”
“Don’t say that.”
“You let B.J. take all the blame.... Was he even there when you took that coin?”
Hunter hesitated, then admitted, “No.”
She stared at him, appalled, and yet not surprised. She thought back to the day her brother had given his statement to the investigator. “That’s why you and Hanna fought, isn’t it? She found out you’d lied to Rex Harris. And she wanted you to tell the truth.”
“She guessed I didn’t tell the truth. And she was mad that I wouldn’t level with her.”
“Was B.J. a part of any of it? Did he know about the guy in the loft?”
Disgust flashed over her brother’s face. And shame. “No.”
“So he was completely innocent?”
“Look. I’m not proud of what happened. But I didn’t know, okay? I thought that kid was dead.”
With that comment, Hunter had her completely confused. “Why would Travis have been dead?”
“Hell.” Hunter’s hands were fists. “I’ll tell you, okay? But this is just between you and me.”
She wanted to stop him right there. He could say this was just between the two of them, but she wasn’t only his sister. She was the sheriff of this county.
Which meant she had to get at the truth. Whatever way she could.
“You’d better be telling the truth this time, Hunter.”
He took a deep breath. “I met Travis McBride online. It was like a chat room for guys who were interested in rodeo. I was training a lot back then and had done good at some junior competitions. He asked if I could teach him how to ride bucking broncos. I said I would if he could get to Montana.”
“So that’s what he was doing here. June Savage couldn’t figure out why a kid from California would run away to Montana.”
“He wanted to be a cowboy. So I snuck him into Monahan’s and we practiced on some of their horses. Out in the far pasture, where no one could see us. He needed a place to shack up for the night, and I told him about the old barn on Silver Creek Ranch. That’s when I got the idea of having a party out there. I dropped Travis off first. Told him I’d be back with some friends. He should hide up in the loft and make spooky sounds—give the girls a good scare.”
This sounded like one of Hunter’s usual pranks. But when had he crossed the line? When had prank turned into crime? “So then what happened?”
“I left him with a bottle of vodka that I’d lifted from—well, you don’t need to know that part. Then I went back to organize my friends. We decided to drive up to the barn in ATVs since the road was so rough. B.J. and me led the way.”
“But the prank didn’t work the way you planned?”
“No.” Hunter’s shoulders slumped. “B.J. and I got there first. The barn was all quiet. I didn’t know what Travis was doing—he should have heard us drive up and been making scary noises.”
“So what did you do?”
“I figured Travis must have gotten bored and run off, maybe hitched a ride back to town. I went up the loft to make
sure, but he was there, all right, only out cold.”
Sweat glistened on her brother’s brow now. He rubbed his hands on his jeans and took another deep breath.
“The bottle of vodka was beside him. Almost empty. And he wasn’t moving. It seemed like he wasn’t even breathing, either. I panicked, figured he’d died of alcohol poisoning. And it was my fault.”
“Let me get this straight,” Savannah said. She was sweating, too, now. “You really believed Travis was dead?”
“I was positive.”
“But did you check his vital signs?”
“I tried. But I didn’t know what I was doing. It seemed like he wasn’t breathing. And I couldn’t find a pulse. I grabbed the bottle and hid it in my jacket. I took his wallet, too, so he couldn’t be identified. His watch looked expensive, so I grabbed that and a weird coin he had in his pocket.”
“There were actually two weird coins in his pocket. B.J. found the other one when we went to check out the barn a few weeks ago.”
Hunter looked surprised. “Hell. I must have missed it.”
“So you stole Tyler’s ID and his possessions, and then what?”
Hunter flinched at the word stole. “I wasn’t wanting any of that stuff. I was just worried that they would be clues that would get me in trouble. I was panicked, big-time. And then the lightning struck and the barn was on fire. There wasn’t time to do anything. B.J. and I had to run for our lives.”
Savannah couldn’t believe Hunter had been so foolish. “You didn’t even try to save the boy in the loft?”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I thought he was dead. And I was terrified. I figured the old barn with all that hay inside would go up in a flash.”
Hunter stopped talking then, and for a long while neither one said anything. Savannah didn’t know whether to scream or cry from mortification and regret.
All along B.J. had known that Hunter had been up in the loft and must have seen the boy.
But he’d covered for him.
To think she’d blamed B.J. for that night, when she should have been on her knees, thanking him.
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