A Cowboy To Keep: A Contemporary Western Romance Collection

by Hebby Roman

  "I'm deputy Hunter," he told her, showing his badge.

  "Yes, well, what can I do for you?" Her eyes pinpointed the region between his legs and he fought not to roll his eyes.

  "I have bad news, ma'am." He plunged right in, sure it was the wrong way to approach the situation, but at the same time, he didn't think Shelly Mason was the type to be too solicitous with. "Your husband was killed this morning."

  Her eyebrows rose. "Really? Hmmm. What happened to him?"

  Not exactly sure what to make of her lack of reaction, he regarded her searching for a sign of grief. "He was found in his truck this morning." He decided for now to keep the details to himself.

  Her eyes shifted side to side as she took in the news. "You sure he's dead?"

  "Yes, ma'am. Is there anyone you'd like me to call for you? I need to ask you a few questions."

  She waived her hand in the air, dismissing his first question. "Where is he?"

  "At the coroner's office."

  "Well, shit. When can I see him?"

  "I can call you after I speak to Doctor Wilkes. Mr. Mason's body won't be released for at least a couple days."

  She stepped outside and Mark moved back to allow her to plop down on the top step of the small porch. From her back pocket, she produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and proceeded to light up one.

  After a long drag from the cancer stick, she let out a cloud of smoke. "Damn. I didn't expect Eddie to die."

  "Can I call someone for you?" Mark repeated.

  She looked up and down the street as if to see if someone might come to mind. "Nah."

  "Mrs. Mason, is there anyone who would want to kill your husband?"

  The woman shrugged. "Not really. I mean he could be a pain in the ass, but most of the time he kept to himself."

  Once again it struck him as odd that she didn't seem overly grieved at her husband's death. "How long were you married?"

  The question seemed to take her aback because her eyes widened and her mouth went slack. "Shit, I don't know. Let me see...about twelve...no thirteen years."

  He crouched to ensure a good look at her expressions. As much as he hated cigarette smoke, it couldn't be avoided. Mark lowered to his haunches. "Did Eddie mention anyone he'd had an altercation with, or argument of any type?"

  "Nope," she responded immediately. "He just came home, dropped on the couch and watched TV ‘til he fell asleep. Barely spoke to me."

  "Were you having marital problems then?"

  At the question, she let out a bark of laughter. "No, just the way we got along is all."

  "What about you? Anyone angry at you about something?"

  She shrugged and took another draw of nicotine. "Nah. I keep to myself too. Don't have a car right now so when Eddies goes to work, I'm stuck here all damn day."

  "Please let me know if you think of anything." He handed her a business card and thanked her for her time. Once again asked if she wanted him to get someone for her.

  Shelly Mason shook her head and stayed on the front stoop smoking a second cigarette as he drove off.

  * * *

  Park Street ran across Main, Malone's garage was a couple miles down from the center of town. With no other alternative, Mark parked across the street from the car repair shop, as they seemed to be doing brisk business. Either that or people were there to find out what they could about the murder. Mark cursed under his breath. If whoever did this had an accomplice, they were getting their stories straight before he got to them. Then again, he reminded himself this was a small town. Not exactly seasoned murderers who understood the ropes of how to get away with killing someone.

  He was thankful when Deputy Scott pulled up behind him and got out of his truck. Reddened eyes from lack of sleep met his. "Figured you might need help." Carson Scott was tall, very tall. Mark guessed about six-five with the shoulders of a linebacker, muscular arms and a trim waist. It was easy to underestimate the younger cop's ability to sprint, unless you knew he used to be the football team's running back in high school.

  "I do, thanks. Newton is short-handed. They sent a crime scene unit of two. From what I heard from Jerry Pike, they took pictures, footprint molds, Eddie's truck and left." Mark took out a stick of Juicy Fruit gum and popped it in his mouth. "Said they can't afford to send someone to help."

  "What can I do?" Scott looked toward the garage. "Are we going to separate them and question one by one?" Deputy Scott was a good man, but at twenty-four had only served in Lovely and had no real field experience. Nonetheless, he would be learning fast in the next few days how twisted a murder investigation could get.

  "Yeah. First we're going to talk to Jay Garrett. Seems he had a quarrel with the deceased a couple days ago."

  They walked into the car pit area and spotted Garrett. Mark motioned to him with his hand. "Jay Garrett, I need to talk to you," Mark called.

  Immediately Garrett took off at a sprint. He ran around the building and down the street. The guy didn't even bother to drop a wrench, or maybe he planned to use it if they caught up to him.

  Scott gave Mark a quick shrug and took off after Garrett. Giving the younger man the drop on the guy, Mark ran after them.

  Within minutes Scott tackled the smaller man to the ground. Jay was smart enough to toss the wrench when Scott came up on him. Both men rolled Jay to his stomach and Mark handcuffed him. Once Jay stopped struggling, they yanked him to his feet.

  Jay was panting and cursing the whole time. His eyes darted from Mark to Scott. "I don't think it's fuckin' legal for him to tackle me. That's assault." He spit out dirt and attempted to jerk his arm from Scott's hold.

  He stood about five-ten with the build of someone who'd spent more time in the bar than the gym lately.

  "It's just as illegal to run from an officer," Mark said, pinning him with a droll look. "Why'd you run?"

  "The bitch is lying," Jay responded. "I didn't hit her."

  Mark deduced he spoke of Eliza Brock and it took all his restraint not to give the guy a real reason to call assault by punching him square in the face.

  Scott must have sensed Mark's barely held back anger because he yanked Jay's arm up. "So you were not arguing with Eliza last night in front of her apartment at about eight-thirty when I drove by and asked if everything was okay?"

  Jay lost some of his indignation and slumped forward. "That don't mean I hit her."

  "That's not why we're here." Holding Jay between them, they started walking back to Mark's cruiser and upon reaching it, they propped Jay against it and both stood in front of him blocking any chance of running again. "Where were you this morning at about nine-thirty or so?"

  His brown eyes darted from under his messy mop of hair from him to the Scott. "Oh, hell no. You not trying to pin Eddie's murder on me are ya?"

  Mark remained quiet. Jay's right cheek began to twitch. "It ain't no secret I don't like the guy, but I didn't kill him."

  "Same like you didn't hit Eliza Brock?" Scott asked with a cocked brow.

  Jay fidgeted. "Whatever. I didn't kill Eddie."

  "I heard you two got into a tussle." Mark kept his tone neutral. "What was that about?"

  "He owes me money. The bastard went and bought all kinds of shit and claimed not to have enough left to pay what he owes me. Plus he's always flirting with Eliza."

  It didn't miss Mark's notice that Jay used the present tense when speaking of Eddie.

  "Did you threaten him?"

  "I punched him in the gut and then I told him he had one week to pay me and to keep his paws off Eliza or else I was going to kick his ass good." Jay tried to pull off a threatening look. "I don't mind fighting someone, but I ain't about no killin.'"

  "Yeah, I get the drift, you don't mind using your fists on whoever is around you at the wrong time. Is that why you hit your girlfriend?"

  Jay shook his head. "I didn't hit her. She's not my girlfriend any more, can do what she wants. But Eddie is married, she don't need him eyeballing her."

 
; Mark turned him around to face the car and lifted his cuffed hands. The underneath of Jay's fingernails was grimy as with most mechanics. The knuckles scarred, but nothing fresh that he could see.

  He grabbed his arm and turned him back around. "Where were you this morning?"

  This time Jay was more forthcoming. "I left my house about eight-thirty, got here to work at nine or so."

  "Or so?"

  "Hell I don't know for sure, it's not like I keep a watch on to track time or nothin'." His worry-filled eyes darted from Mark to Scott.

  Mark uncuffed Jay and the guy massaged his wrists while waiting for one of the deputies to release him. His gaze directed past them to where the workforce and customers had stopped pretending not to be watching.

  As much as he wanted to throw Jay in jail for hitting Eliza, he couldn't. She'd not complained. "Don't leave town and if your story doesn't check out, I'll be talking to you again."

  He motioned for Jay to go on and Scott watched Jay walk away, head down. "You think he did it?"

  "I don't know," Mark replied honestly. "Mason was killed by someone who didn't want a fight. I would think Jay would rather punch him a few times and then maybe stab him. I don't see him sneaking up and slashing the guy's throat. Especially if he owed him money."

  "So what now?"

  "We talk to Eddie's boss and coworkers and see if they have a different take on this. Maybe one of them saw something on their way to work this morning."

  Two hours later, the deputies headed to their vehicles. The owner Leroy Malone and the rest of the workers at the garage had alibis, either that or they covered for each other. Everyone knew about the animosity between Jay and Eddie Mason. But most said after the initial fight, they'd not argued or seemed overly angry at each other.

  Unfortunately no one saw anything on the way to work either.

  It was going to be a long day.

  Chapter Four

  After a few more hours at the diner, Eliza finally went home. The sun was setting, and dead on her feet, she was ready for a relaxing evening away from all the questions and speculations.

  Thankfully, she lived close enough that dashing across the street and up to the safety of her apartment was quick and no one stopped her.

  A few minutes later, she stepped out of the shower and padded barefoot into her tiny kitchen. Her apartment was only eight hundred square feet, small, cozy and a haven. She'd decorated with yard sale finds she refurbished herself, most of the furnishings painted in pale colors.

  The vintage Formica topped metal kitchen table in her small eat-in area was surrounded with mismatched chairs found in different flea markets. Each was spray painted in a different color to match the soft yellow and blue colors on the tabletop.

  Glass of Moscato in hand, she sunk into her couch. The sofa had been Mrs. Miller's. Both she and the older lady learned how to re-upholster by practicing on the piece. It was now covered in sturdy soft beige canvas fabric and she was rather proud of the finished product. With soft yellow and blue pillows tossed on it and her overstuffed chair, the room matched her kitchen colors. She tucked her feet up and clicked on her television.

  Unlike her other belongings, she’d bought the TV new, that and her mattresses were the only pieces she could boast as being the first owner of.

  The first sip of the sweet wine helped to calm her nerves. The vision of Eddie's lifeless face was hard to dislodge from the forefront and she forced herself to focus on the sitcom on the screen. Thankfully the bruised side of her face no longer throbbed, at least that was one positive.

  How long was it going to take to get rid of Jay Garrett? They'd dated only a couple of months and she thought they'd both move on after she told him it wasn't working. What a mistake dating him had been. Each time he drank or got a wild hair up his butt, he was pounding on her door. Always the same thing. Asking her to take him back.

  Deep down she didn't believe he was a bad guy. Just not the man for her. Jay was impulsive, loud, and drank too much.

  Admittedly, he'd not struck her. He tried to kiss her and she jerked sideways to avoid it. When she looked back to cuss him out, she’d banged the side of her face against his chin. The impact had been so hard, she'd seen stars.

  She wasn't sure who was more shocked by it, him or her. Jay had immediately apologized and swore he'd not meant to hurt her. He had meant to kiss her by force, which was almost as bad in her book.

  Once the whole murder issue was resolved, she would talk to Sheriff Clark and ask him to speak to Jay. Maybe the sheriff could convince him to stop coming by.

  Right now her choice of who to speak to were Mark Hunter or the younger deputy, Scott. She'd rather wait and speak to the older sheriff.

  The thought of talking about her mess of a relationship with Jay to Deputy Hunter was not appealing. She was attracted to him and embarrassed to admit what had transpired between her and Jay.

  The sound of the doorbell made her jump. She glanced at the clock. It was only eight-thirty, she supposed not too late for someone to stop by. Still on the couch with her feet up, she took in her outfit. She wore green polka dot pajama shorts and a loose t-shirt. Not bad since it was probably Mrs. Miller anyway.

  Her stomach sunk when she peered through the peephole and caught a glimpse of Mark Hunter's face. He stood away from the door staring straight forward.

  "Shit." Eliza mumbled and dashed to put the glass on her kitchen table. She yanked the towel from her wet hair and shook it out. Raking her fingers through her shoulder length locks, rushed back to the door.

  His eyes met hers when she opened her front door and immediately her stomach filled with butterflies. How she wanted to roll her eyes at her body's reaction to the flat but beautiful hazel eyes.

  "Deputy Hunter. Is something wrong?" She took a step back. "I didn't expect you to stop by. Would you like to come in? I just got home not too long ago from the diner." Okay this was the time to shut up and allow the man to talk.

  To her surprise he walked in and stood just inside the door. Once again he accessed her face. "I need to ask you a couple more questions."

  He wasn't wearing his uniform. Instead wore a white t-shirt and jeans. Although he looked handsome in his police clothing, the casually dressed Mark Hunter was a totally hottie.

  "Would you like some coffee? Tea? I have wine." She hustled to the kitchen and stood behind the counter like a fast food worker, waiting to take an order.

  He moved closer and frowned. "I'll take some coffee, please. If it's not too much trouble."

  "Not a problem." She measured grounds into her coffee maker and poured water into the reserve. It had to be a good sign that he was drinking coffee. Surely if he suspected her of having something to do with Eddie's death, he'd not ask for coffee. Would he? "Can I ask you a question?"

  His lips quirked at the corners. "Sure. I haven't asked mine, though."

  "Oh." Her eyes rounded. "You go first then."

  "Thank you." His eyes twinkled as she hurried to the kitchen table and sat, motioning him to do the same.

  Once he lowered to a chair opposite her and pushed the wine glass toward her, he took out his small pad again. Eliza was too nervous to pick up the glass. Instead she clenched her hands together under the table.

  "I spoke to Mr. Garrett today. He was worried you'd reported him for striking you." He watched her intently. Those penetrating gazes of his making her want to either scream. She fidgeted instead.

  "I...er. What is the question?" She bit her bottom lip and prayed the coffee maker would beep. It would give her something to do.

  "Mr. Garrett was worried you'd pressed charges against him. Do you plan to?"

  Eliza let out a breath. So this had nothing to do with the murder then. "I planned to speak to Sheriff Clark and ask him to talk to Jay." She felt heat rising to her cheeks. Great, there went her chances of ever going out with Mark Hunter.

  "Did you have any type of relationship with Eddie Mason?"

  If the previous questio
n made her uncomfortable, this one mortified her. She knew her eyes went wide, her jaw definitely dropped open. Thankfully the coffeepot beeped and she rushed to the kitchen.

  What kind of woman did he think she was? "Creamer? Sugar?" Eliza asked pouring the coffee into a large cup.

  "Just creamer, please." He wasn't looking at her, instead taking in her small living room. "You have a nice place."

  "Thank you." Eliza remained wary. His change of topic did not fool her for an instant. "Eddie Mason and I spoke a couple of times at the most, that I can remember. I took my car to the garage and he fixed it about a year ago. Other than that, I only said hi and bye to him around town or at the diner. He was a friendly guy, but a bit too flirty."

  "Did he ever make inappropriate comments to you?"

  "No. I mean he could be an overly friendly guy, but I wouldn't say disrespectful."

  Mark took a drink from his coffee. "Was Jay a jealous boyfriend?"

  "I didn't think so. We didn't date long, just a couple months or so. So I'm sure there is a lot about him I don't know."

  “When did you break up?”

  “Six months ago.”

  "Yet he continues to pester you months later? Why do you think that is?"

  Eliza reached for her wine and brought it to her lips. The sweet liquid helped wet her parched throat. "I wish I knew. At first he kept asking for a second chance. Lately when he shows up, it's to demand I..."

  "Sleep with him?" Mark provided.

  Beyond mortified she could only nod. "This is so embarrassing. I hate this," she finished weakly.

  "It's not your fault." His words were even and strong. "Look at me."

  She looked into his eyes and saw strength and lack of judgment. His lips curved slightly. "Jay Garrett is the one with the problem."

  Yeah, well, she had major issues too. Like the fact the man across the table from her would never ask her out now. Eliza nodded. "I understand that. Tired of it though." Eliza let out a long sigh. "He didn't hit me. We bumped heads when I tried to avoid a kiss.”

  When he remained quiet, she continued. “Just to make it clear. If he had I would have reported him. Unfortunately, it was a very hard bump. I didn't pay any attention to his face so it's hard to tell exactly where I bumped him, I think the chin."