by Lynn Shannon
“We’ll be back in on Monday morning then,” Luke said.
He rose, as did Megan.
Sheriff Franklin was slower to get up. He stretched out a hand for Megan to shake. “Whatever is going on, you will have my full support. I want the truth as much as you do.”
Megan clasped his meaty hand in both of hers. “Thank you, Sheriff.”
“I had a soft spot for Franny. Heath Dickerson isn’t an easy man, and he pushed his kids hard. Half of Chad’s troubles stem from the way he was raised and the expectations placed on him. Franny was a sweet girl with a kind heart, a lot like her momma. I was glad when she applied to work here. Her family came from money, but she was a hard worker.”
Brent shook Megan’s hand as well. “We’ll sort this out. Promise.”
Luke opened the office door and placed a hand on the small of Megan’s back, guiding her out. Dan waited near the receptionist desk. He said nothing as they passed by, but Luke felt the heat of the man’s glare following them all the way to the parking lot.
Eight
Something rumbled in her ear.
Megan jolted awake. Spiral pillars arched upward from the bed frame. It took two heartbeats to orientate herself. She was at Luke’s ranch in a guest bedroom. She turned her head on the pillow and got a face full of fur. Archimedes shifted and blinked his bicolored eyes. She stroked the cat, and his purring intensified.
“Go back to sleep, buddy. Yesterday was more excitement than you’ve seen in a month.”
Rain pattered gently against the window. She grabbed her new cell phone—purchased along with a few necessities since everything she’d brought to town was destroyed in the fire.
Almost noon. She sat straight up in bed and her head spun. She’d taken one of the pain pills the emergency room doctor had given her last night. Big mistake.
Twenty minutes and a shower later, the sound of country music and a heavenly smell drew Megan to the kitchen. Hank relaxed in a chair at the kitchen table, the paper in his hand, and a cup of coffee at his elbow. Luke’s mother pulled a loaf of homemade cornbread out of the oven, setting it on the counter, before pushing her glasses up on her nose.
“There you are.” Nancy smiled and wiped her hands on the polka-dotted apron tied around her waist. “Feeling better?”
“I am.” The solid night of rest had gone a long way to soothing Megan’s body, but did little to ease the worries running through her mind or settle the ache in her heart. “How are you feeling, Hank?”
“Fit as a fiddle, darlin’.” The paper crinkled in his hand and a flush rose in his cheeks. “Although I’d like to get my hands on the son—”
“Hank Williams McGregor, don’t you dare swear.” Nancy shot him a scowl. “Sunday morning and you just got back from church service. My word. You know better than that.”
“Sometimes there are reasons to swear, Mom.” Luke appeared in the doorway. His hair was mussed, as if he’d also just crawled out of bed, but the alertness in his gaze along with the wrinkles in his slacks caused by sitting belied the notion. “Hank deserves at least one swear word after what happened yesterday.”
His mother humphed as she stirred something delicious in a huge cast-iron pot on the stove. A brown-and-white mutt ambled in behind Luke.
“Hey, Jax.” Megan bent to rub the old dog’s ears. He licked her hand and his tail thumped the tile floor. “Why are you limping, boy?”
“Arthritis,” Luke said. “He’s on medication, but the rain aggravates it.”
Jax stared up at her, his brown eyes full of adoration. Megan dropped a kiss on his forehead. She’d been with Luke on adoption day, and Jax was as much a part of their courtship as lazy afternoons in the hammock or ice cream splits after training the horses.
“What are we eating?” Luke asked. “It smells amazing.”
“Chili.” Nancy smacked his hand as he picked at the cornbread. “Lunch won’t be ready for another half an hour.”
Luke stole two slices and skirted around the island, out of his mom’s reach. He handed one to Megan and winked. Nancy laughed.
“You’re incorrigible.” She grabbed butter from the fridge, along with a knife, and pushed it in Megan’s direction. “How’s June doing?”
“Every day is better. They’re thinking she’ll be out of ICU today or tomorrow. The doctors aren’t making any promises because head injuries are so touch-and-go. It’s all up to June on whether—” No. She wouldn’t think like that. Megan took a deep breath. “—when she wakes from the coma.”
“If you don’t mind, once she’s in a regular room, I’d like to visit. Sit with her.”
“That…” Megan swallowed past the unexpected lump in her throat. “It would ease my mind a lot to know June has you there. Thank you.”
Jax let out a bark, his warm body touching her leg. Megan laughed, breaking off a piece of her cornbread, and feeding it to him. “You always knew I was a soft touch.”
The familiar scene sent an ache radiating through her chest. This was supposed to have been her life. The impact of the loss had been muted in Houston, but now the full force of her choices hit her like a punch to the stomach.
Luke glanced at her, and his smile dimmed. “Since lunch isn’t ready, can I show you something?”
“Sure.”
She followed him through the living room. Overstuffed leather furniture was bracketed by well-chosen end tables. Glass doors leading to a wide porch stretched the entire length of the room. Nothing had changed in the last three years, not even the rustic Texas flag or the photos on the wall. It was strangely comforting.
Luke took a turn into the home office. “Did your aunt own a Glock?”
“Yes. It was her go-to weapon.”
“We recovered one from the vehicle she was in. I was hoping it was the murder weapon used to kill Franny. Guess not.”
Jax hobbled in and settled with a sigh on a dog bed thick enough for a king. Megan gave his ears another rub while she studied a map of the area attached to a whiteboard. She pointed to a red marker. “Is that where June had her accident?”
“Yep. That’s what I wanted to show you.” Luke leaned against the desk, bracing his hands on the shiny surface. “I’m trying to figure out where she was coming from. Using information from the towers her cell pinged, June turned off her phone while in Cardin at two twenty-one and didn’t turn it back on until she called you at four fifteen. That’s roughly two hours we can’t account for. My best guess is that she went somewhere around Woodville. What I can’t figure out is why she was on that road to begin with. The quickest way to Cardin from Woodville is the highway.”
Megan studied the map. “If June thought she was being followed, she would’ve taken the more remote route to flush them out. That could also explain why she turned her cell phone off. She didn’t want to be tracked.”
“Do you know her passwords? Maybe she saved something on the cloud?”
“I already checked last night and there was nothing. My aunt preferred pen and paper when something was critical, or she was worried someone might be looking for it.” She rocked back on her heels. “Dan isn’t happy about our investigation.”
Luke tilted his head. “You think he might be involved?”
“In her voice mail, my aunt said I shouldn’t trust anyone, and Wade was attacked in prison. It makes me wonder.”
“Be careful about jumping to conclusions, Megs. Dan’s not my favorite person, but there’s no indication he’s done anything wrong in this case. It’s not easy to have your work questioned, especially since he’s campaigning to be the next sheriff.”
“Maybe that’s all it is…” She blew out a breath. “I dunno. I don’t trust him.”
Luke’s phone vibrated, and he pulled it from the clip on his belt. One glance at the screen and his expression went flat. He hit the reject button.
“Do you need to take that?” Megan asked. “I can step out.”
“No, it’s fine.”
She squinted at him
, trying to place the tone in his voice. It shouldn’t matter. It was none of her business. But there was a tension in his shoulders and a hint of pain buried in his expression. It tugged at her heartstrings. Megan’s palm itched with the urge to run her fingers over the line of his jaw, and the buried desire to kiss the frown from his mouth welled up.
Not going to happen. She forced her gaze back to the map and her mind to focus on the task at hand. June. Her brother. “When can we talk to Pastor John?”
“Tonight. We can go to service together and interview him afterward.”
“Perfect. Do you have photographs of the accident and the things collected from the car? I’d like to look at them.”
“Yep. They’re on my computer.”
He sat in the leather desk chair and pulled them up on screen. Megan inhaled sharply. June’s vehicle was unrecognizable. A hunk of blue metal resting on rocks halfway down the ravine.
“It’s a miracle she wasn’t killed instantly.” Megan grabbed the mouse and clicked through the photographs. “The inside looks clean. You didn’t find a zip drive tucked in the side pockets or the glove box?”
“Nothing.”
The photographs of the accident scene ended and individual evidence shots began. Her aunt’s blouse and pants. Five keys on a Hello Kitty key chain. The shattered cell phone.
“Hold on.” Megan’s heart skipped a beat, as her brain caught up to her eyes. She flipped back to the picture of the keys.
“What is it?”
“There’s an extra key. That’s the car, the house, the office, and the barn’s tack room.” She pointed to each one as she ticked them off but stopped at a light gold one with a triangle cutout on top. “But that one doesn’t belong to June.”
He frowned. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. She’s had the same set of keys since I was sixteen years old.”
Luke zoomed in closer on the photograph. “It’s too big to be for a safe deposit box. Maybe a storage unit?”
“She could’ve made a copy of the evidence.” Excitement rushed through her body and she bounced on her toes. “Or even her entire investigation. How many storage unit places are there in the area?”
He quickly did a search. “Around fifty within a two hundred mile radius. That’s a doable list. I’ll shoot it over to Weston and we can start calling.”
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and the rush faded as quickly as it’d come. The hospital? She yanked out her phone, but the number flashing across the screen wasn’t one she recognized.
“Hello.” Silence. There was breathing on the line so someone was there. The hair on the back of Megan’s neck stood up. “Hello?”
Luke leaned in closer, and she angled the phone so he could hear.
“You need to leave town,” a woman whispered. “It’s not safe. Please go, otherwise he will kill you.”
Luke tried to focus on the church service, but the desperation in the woman’s voice from the phone call kept bleeding into his thoughts. It made him want to wrap Megan in bubble wrap and keep her on the ranch where she was safe.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was singing the closing hymn, her beautiful voice lifting to the heavens. She pulled the hymnal they were sharing closer to turn the page and nudged him. A slight tease for not singing along. Luke nudged her back and Megan’s lips turned up in a small smile. His gut clenched. Under ordinary circumstances, it would’ve been embarrassing to acknowledge how much he still cared, but nearly losing her in the fire had humbled him.
He wished there was a way to fix what was broken between them, but it was a fool’s errand. Even if—and that was a big if—they proved Wade’s innocence and got him out of prison, it wouldn’t matter. He’d broken her trust. Luke knew from his own experiences some wounds changed a relationship forever.
The service ended, and people started filing out of the church.
“Megan? Luke?” A woman’s voice came from behind and they both turned.
Rosa Crenshaw, owner of the local coffee shop and one of June’s good friends, worked her way up the aisle against the flow of traffic. Trailing behind her was a younger woman, in her mid-twenties, dark hair tucked into a long braid.
Rosa embraced Megan. “Oh, hon, it’s so good to see you.” She pulled back and reached out a hand to affectionately pat Luke’s arm in greeting. “How’s June?”
“She’s getting better, but progress is slow.”
“We’ll keep her in our prayers.” Rosa gestured to the younger woman standing behind her. “I’m not sure if you remember, but this is my niece, Gerdie. She’s staying with me while she applies to business school.”
“Of course I remember Gerdie.” Megan grinned. “Although you were a teenager when I saw you last. It’s lovely to see you again.”
“Thanks. You too.” Her lips spread in a tight smile and her hands knotted together. “Aunt Rosa, I’m going to sign us up for the Cleantastic.”
“That’s right. It’s next week. I almost forgot.”
The Cleantastic was an annual event. The town got together one evening to clean the entire church from top to bottom.
“See you outside.” Gerdie’s dark braid bobbed as she raced down the aisle.
Rosa sighed. “I’m sorry about that. This whole thing with Franny has her in knots. They went to grade school together before Gerdie moved away with her mom after the divorce.”
Megan’s shoulders dropped. “Of course. It’s not easy.”
“Not for any of us.” Rosa reached out and squeezed Megan’s arm. “Bessie’s been asking about June every day since the accident. Our Bible study is on Wednesdays, and it’s not the same without your aunt.”
Bessie Granger was Lieutenant Brent Granger’s mother. Come to think of it, Luke had seen the three women huddled together at the Wake Up Cafe from time to time.
“Bessie’s at the hospital so much, what with her cancer treatments and all, and I go up and sit with her when I can,” Rosa continued. “We’d love to pop in on June. You will let us know when she can have visitors, won’t you?”
“Of course, I will.” Megan paused. “Rosa, can you think of any reason why June would’ve been in Woodville?”
“Woodville, you say?” Her lips pursed and she thought for a moment. “Not off the top of my head. I’ll ask Bessie when I see her, though. She’s got a better memory than I do for things.”
“I would appreciate it.”
“Of course, dear. And come see me at the cafe when you have time.”
Megan sat back down in the pew with a sigh after Rosa left. “Poor Gerdie. She couldn’t get away from me fast enough. I’m bringing up painful memories by digging into this case.”
“You aren’t doing it to hurt them.”
“I don’t think that makes it any easier.” She jerked her chin. “Here comes Pastor John.”
The pastor greeted them with a wide smile. Mid-fifties with an upbeat disposition and a mop of unruly curls, he’d been in charge of the church for two decades. Pastor John shook both of their hands and asked about their families.
“I was very sorry to hear about June’s accident and the attack on you, Megan.” Pastor John sat in the pew in front of them, twisting in the seat so they could face each other. “It’s my understanding these events may be connected to Franny’s murder. Is that true?”
“It is,” Luke said. “I know the sheriff’s office didn’t speak to you after the murder, so we’d like to follow up.”
“I was on a two-week retreat when it happened, and by the time I came back, Wade had confessed. I didn’t think the information I had was important and now…”
Beside him, Megan stiffened. Luke placed a hand on her arm to prevent her from asking questions. Sometimes, it was better to let the witness lead the conversation.
“Franny started seeing me because she was conflicted about her relationship with Skeeter. They’d fallen in love, but her father and brother disapproved of the relationship.”
Pas
tor John confirmed the information Brent had provided yesterday. Luke kept quiet because he sensed there was more.
“Franny gave in to the pressure from her family and broke up with Skeeter.” The pastor ran a hand over his hair and the curls bounced away from his forehead before flopping back. “But the separation didn’t last long. Living on her own and working at the sheriff’s department had given Franny a taste of independence. She and Skeeter reconnected.”
Luke leaned forward. “Hold on, are you saying they were dating at the time of her death?”
He nodded. “They kept it secret from everyone—even their friends. The more their love grew, though, the more difficult it became. They wanted to get married. Franny needed guidance on how to come clean to her family.”
“Do you know if she told them about her relationship with Skeeter?”
“I don’t believe she did. The last time we talked, she was still debating things.” He paused. “Of course, I can’t be sure. Franny and her mom were very close.”
Megan frowned. “Was Franny worried about telling her dad and brother because she didn’t want to cause strife with her family, or was there something more?”
Pastor John’s gaze dropped to his hands, and he fiddled with his wedding ring. His wife worked as an accountant for the Dickerson ranch. Cardin was a small town and word could get around.
“It’s just us here, Pastor,” Luke said. “We aren’t interested in gossiping.”
The other man let out a sigh. “No, of course you aren’t. Franny alluded her brother had been physical violent in the past. In fact, the reason Skeeter stopped training to be a bull-rider with Heath was because Chad accused him of cheating. There was a physical altercation between Chad and Skeeter as a result. Admittedly, I was concerned about Franny telling her family about her relationship with Skeeter, considering the animosity.”
Pastor John wasn’t known for creating drama or speaking out of turn. If he was worried about Chad’s reaction, then Franny must’ve been too. But was Chad disciplined enough to plan a murder and then frame someone else for it?