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“It’s going to be okay, Mandy,” he murmured.
“No, it’s not,” she cried. “He’s gone and now I’ll never have the chance to have a better relationship with him. Nothing is ever going to be okay again.” She cried even harder and there was nothing Brody could do to comfort her other than hold her while she wept.
He was still holding her when Chief of Police Dillon Bowie arrived along with two other patrol cars and three of his men. As they parked and then approached the house, Brody finally released Mandy.
“Brody,” Dillon greeted him with a touch of surprise in his gray eyes and then turned toward Mandy. “Where is he?”
“In the family room,” Mandy replied and began to cry again.
The four men went into the house, and Brody led Mandy through the small living room and into the kitchen. “Sit,” he said and gently pushed her down into one of the chairs at the table.
He noticed the nearly full coffeepot on the counter and searched the cabinets until he found two mugs. He poured them each a cup and then sat next to her.
Tears clung to her long lashes as she wrapped her fingers around the coffee mug. “I don’t believe this is happening.” She gazed up at him, her eyes dark and pain-filled. “Please tell me this is a nightmare and I’m going to wake up and everything will be fine.”
“You know I can’t tell you that,” he replied with a gentleness he hadn’t even known he possessed.
She stared down into the mug for several long minutes. The only sounds in the room were the low male voices drifting in from the family room.
“Tell me what you did last night.”
Once again she looked up at him, this time with a tiny frown line etched across her brow. “I worked at the café until about six and then went shopping. I got home about eight, wrapped some presents and went to bed.”
“Alone?”
He regretted the question the minute it left his lips. A flash of new pain radiated from her eyes. “Yes, alone,” she replied curtly.
At that moment Dillon walked into the kitchen. “Mandy, I’m so sorry for your loss. We’re waiting now for Teddy to arrive. In the meantime, can I ask you a few questions?” Teddy was Ted Lymon, the medical examiner.
Mandy nodded and Dillon sat in the chair opposite her. “Why would somebody do that to my father? Who would do something like this?” she asked, the words laced with pain.
“That’s what I’m going to try to figure out,” Dillon replied. “Tell me exactly what happened this morning.”
Mandy’s pale face and shaking fingers spoke of her despair as she told Dillon about getting up that morning, dressing and then coming into the house to fix her father breakfast.
“Were any of the doors unlocked?” he asked.
“I know the front door wasn’t because I used my key to get in, and I can see from here that the back door is still locked,” she replied.
“I’ve got Ben looking at all the windows to check if entry was gained through one of them,” Dillon said.
“Do you have an idea of the time of death?” Brody asked.
“Teddy will have to make the official call, but I’d guess sometime in the middle of the night,” Dillon replied. “Which brings me to my next question. I know you were shopping yesterday evening, but what did you do after that?”
“I came home and wrapped some presents...” she began.
“And then I came over and spent the night with her.” Brody was grateful Mandy didn’t look as surprised as he felt as the alibi fell from his lips.
Jeez, what had he just done?
Chapter 4 (#ubf8d1cbe-b218-5df4-88b5-c52aea6ecee4)
The next four days went by in a haze for Mandy. She made her father’s funeral arrangements and kept in close touch with Dillon about the progress of the investigation. She didn’t know how she would have gotten through it all without Brody as a calm and steady presence beside her.
She’d been shocked when he’d told Dillon that he’d been with her on the night of her father’s murder. He’d gone even further and told the lawman to check with Fred Ferguson, who would attest to the fact that he and Mandy had also been together on the night of the snowstorm.
She now stood at the front door of the house, waiting for Brody to pick her up for the funeral. It was a beautiful afternoon in the midforties. The sun shone brightly and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
Grief had also been a big part of the time that had passed since her father’s murder. She wasn’t sure she grieved for the man himself as much as for the relationship she’d wanted—she’d needed—from him and now would have no opportunity to ever gain.
There were still so many things she had to take care of. She’d been shocked to learn her father had a will on file with an attorney in town and he’d left her everything. In the event of her death her brother would be the beneficiary of what little estate there might be.
Brody had advised her not to make any decisions about things until she’d given herself time to fully grieve, but she’d already decided to clear out the house and put it on the market to sell. She would move to someplace in town, maybe a small house where she could build a life that didn’t include the memories of a father who had been so hateful, a man she’d desperately wanted to love her.
She had no idea how many people might attend the funeral this afternoon. She’d been shocked in the last couple of days to realize how many people disliked her father. She knew how he’d treated her, but she hadn’t known that he’d carried that same hateful attitude outside the house.
As Brody’s truck came up the lane toward the house, she couldn’t help the way her heart beat just a little faster. Although he hadn’t touched her in any way since the day she’d discovered her father dead, he’d been the best kind of friend she could ever ask for, and surely that was why her heart quickened at the sight of him.
She turned and hurried to the kitchen to retrieve her purse from the table. By the time she returned to the front door, he was out of his truck and approaching the porch.
Brody Booth in jeans and a flannel shirt was sexy, but Brody in a dark suit coat and slacks was off the charts. She stepped out on the porch, then closed and locked the door behind her.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked as they walked to his truck.
“I guess I’m as ready as I’m going to be. At least I’ve finally stopped crying all the time.”
He opened the passenger door and she slid inside. The truck interior smelled like him...the pleasant scents of sunshine and the outdoors and his woodsy cologne.
“What have you heard from Dillon?” he asked once he was in the truck and had started the engine.
“He called me last night to ask if I knew anything about a pushing and shoving fight my father had last Saturday night at the Watering Hole.”
“Who was he pushing and shoving with?”
“Lloyd Green. Apparently Dad owed Lloyd some money and Lloyd tried to collect.”
“So, did Dillon say that Lloyd was a suspect in the case?”
“Dillon seems to be playing things close to the vest, but I would assume Lloyd is a suspect.” Lloyd worked for Raymond Humes, but that was about all she knew about the older man.
They fell silent and she stared out the window at the barren winter landscape. What would happen after today? When the ceremony was over, would Brody go his own way?
He hadn’t exactly signed up for all this. Of course, when he’d offered up the alibi to Dillon, he had to have known that he’d bound them together, at least for a little while.
She was shocked by the new piercing pain that shot through her as she thought of going on without Brody in her life. She’d felt so alone before the night of the snowstorm and his friendship was definitely what was helping her get through these horrible, difficult days.
As he turned in to the Bitterroot Cemetery entrance, she was surprised to see a number of cars parked in the lot. There had been no visitation so this was the one and only opportunity people would have to say a final goodbye to George Wright.
They got out of the truck and were greeted by Dillon and Cassie. “Mandy, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Cassie said and took one of Mandy’s hands in hers.
The warmth and compassion in her voice made tears spring to Mandy’s eyes. “Thank you, Cassie.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Cassie added as she released Mandy’s hand.
Mandy looked at Dillon. “All anyone can do for me now is to help catch the person who’s responsible for my father’s murder.”
“The investigation is ongoing,” he replied.
Julia Hatfield, a waitress at the café, hurried over and pulled Mandy into a tight hug. “Oh, honey, I can’t stay long because I have a shift in a little while, but I wanted you to know I’m so sorry, and you come to me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Julia,” Mandy replied.
Reverend Wally Johnson walked toward them all, his expression somber and fitting the occasion. “Are we ready to begin?”
Mandy drew in a deep breath and released it, then nodded. It was a bit of a walk to the actual gravesite. Mandy, Brody and Wally led the small crowd over the top of a small rise and then to the place where Mandy’s mother rested.
George would be happy resting next to the woman he’d loved. When she’d died she’d taken so much of what little goodness he’d had with her.
They were trailed by several neighbors, a couple of waitresses from the café, Butch Cooper and two men from the Humes ranch.
Mandy assumed the Humes men might have been her father’s drinking buddies. At least Lloyd Green wasn’t here. Still, her father probably would have opened the door to Lloyd. Heck, her father would have opened the door to most anyone he knew on the night of his murder. There had been no signs of a break-in or robbery and no hard evidence that anyone had been in the house. The killer must have relocked whatever door he’d entered when he was finished slashing her father’s throat.
She glanced up at Brody, so tall and stoic next to her. His very presence helped to calm the tension that had balled up tight in her stomach.
This was it. This was so final. She was now an orphan and she would never, ever be able to get the kind of relationship she’d longed for with her father.
She’d thought she’d cried all the tears in her body, but she’d been wrong. The moment Wally began to speak, tears chased each other down her cheeks.
She would have broken down altogether had Brody not reached out and took her hand in his. The warmth of his hand around hers, the silent support he offered were enough to keep her somewhat in check.
The official ceremony didn’t take long. There were no good friends to speak of George in glowing terms and Mandy had declined to speak. When it was over, she told everyone that they were welcome at the house, where sandwiches would be served.
She didn’t expect anyone to come. Most of these people who had come had done so to show support for her, which she appreciated.
They were about to leave when Aaron Blair and his wife, Sadie, walked over to the two of them. Aaron was a big man with dark hair, and his wife was a willowy blonde who looked as if she could use a good meal. They owned the ranch next to the Wright place, but Mandy barely knew them.
“Brody... Mandy,” Aaron greeted them. “Mandy, I’d tell you I was sorry for your loss, but your father was a mean, spiteful man who nobody will miss.”
Mandy took a step backward in stunned shock. “Aaron,” his wife replied in surprise.
“Well, it’s the truth,” Aaron said firmly, raising his square jaw. “George accused me of stealing land from him for years. He accused me of putting up my fencing three feet on his property despite the three surveys I paid for to prove him wrong. He was nothing more than a miserable bastard.”
“And I think that’s enough,” Brody replied in a stern voice. “This isn’t the time or the place for you to air your grievances.”
“Come on, Aaron. Let’s go home,” Sadie said. She jerked on her husband’s arm and the two of them headed away from the gravesite.
“Don’t pay any attention to them,” Brody said softly.
Grief once again tightened Mandy’s throat. “It doesn’t matter if my dad was mean or not. He still didn’t deserve to have his throat cut while sitting in his recliner chair in his own home.” She swallowed hard against the emotion that rose up in the back of her throat.
“I just hope Dillon is aware of the bad blood between your father and Aaron,” Brody replied.
She looked at him in surprise. “Surely you don’t think Aaron had anything to do with the murder. I can’t imagine it.”
“None of us could imagine Adam being a serial killer,” he reminded her. He looped his arm through hers. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
Together they headed back toward the parking area, but before they got there a man appeared in the distance. Mandy froze at the sight of him.
Was it? Could it be?
She pulled her arm from Brody’s, every muscle in her body tensed. “Graham?” The name whispered from her.
As he drew closer and smiled at her, joy exploded in her heart. “Graham!”
She ran toward her brother, half laughing and half crying. She had no idea how he had heard about their father’s murder. She didn’t care where he had come from. The only thing that mattered was that he was here now.
* * *
Brody didn’t like him. He stood in the kitchen with Daisy, who had arrived only moments before with sandwiches, potato salad and baked beans.
Mandy was in the living room, catching up with her brother, and it had taken Brody about two minutes to realize he didn’t particularly like and he damned straight didn’t trust Graham Wright.
There was no overt reason for his dislike or distrust of the man, other than he’d appeared out of nowhere after being gone for years. It was just a gut instinct that was hard to deny.
About ten people had come back to the house following the funeral, including Dillon and Cassie. They were also in the family room, and Brody hoped Dillon was not only visiting with Graham but also interrogating him as to his whereabouts when George had been murdered.
“Darn, I left the tossed salad out in my car,” Daisy said.
“Need some help?” Brody asked.
“Nah, I’ll go get it.” She left the kitchen by the back door, and at the same time Butch Cooper came in from the family room.
“Hey, Brody,” he said and picked up one of the paper plates. “These look good.” He grabbed two of the half sandwiches and put them on his plate.
“Daisy doesn’t make bad food,” he replied. “Even her sandwiches taste better than any I’ve ever eaten.”
Butch nodded and stepped closer to him. “What do you think about the prodigal son’s return?”
Brody glanced toward Graham and then looked back at Butch. “The verdict is still out.”
Butch nodded. “Yeah, mine, too. Mandy sure is happy to see him.”
“I know she’s missed him for a very long time.” Over the last couple of days Mandy had spoken often about her childhood memories of her brother. She’d believed she would never see him again.
Butch stared down at his plate for a moment and then looked back up. “I’m glad she has you.”
There was a softness in the big cowboy’s eyes. Brody stared at him. “Does she know you’re in love with her?” he asked.
