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“Should be able to get some cattle soon,” he said now, smiling at her. “Just a big enough herd to make a little profit and keep us fed.” His smile fell. “Rough day?”
“Had to go out to the Chisholm place,” she said.
“Chisholm, huh.”
“Colton Chisholm called the Sheriff’s Department because he found his former girlfriend’s purse buried in a spot the two of them used to meet fourteen years ago. There’s a crime tech team searching for her remains as we speak.”
“Is that right?”
She shot him a warning look.
“Sorry,” he said, holding up his hands. “I know that boy drove you crazy but you held your own and quite frankly, I think—”
“I know what you thought,” she said, cutting him off. Her father had told her she had to learn to fight her own battles. And she had. She knew he believed it had made her stronger, being raised like a son instead of a daughter.
But then he’d also thought that Colton Chisholm was just trying to get her attention all those years ago. Well, he certainly had her attention now.
Chapter Three
Colton felt as if he’d been kicked in the chest by a mule. All these years her parents had believed she was alive because of letters that weren’t from her at all?
“How could you believe the letters were from Jessica?” he demanded.
Millie was crying and wringing her hands in the cloth of her apron. Her husband looked as if he was trying to restrain himself. Colton was glad he hadn’t opted to come here without the deputy because he was having the same problem not going for Sid Granger’s throat.
“A person’s handwriting can change,” Millie was saying through her tears.
“If she was alive, why wouldn’t she call?” Colton demanded. “Why was Jessica so afraid to let her own family know where she was unless she hated you so much—”
“You punk!” Sid Granger sprang to his feet. “It was you she was trying to get away from.”
“Why would Jessica send me a letter asking me to run away with her if I was the problem?” Colton demanded, not backing down as he, too, shot to his feet.
“Colton,” the deputy warned as she stepped between them again. “Mr. Granger, I need to know why you’re so angry at Mr. Chisholm.”
Colton narrowed his gaze at her. Clearly, she was looking for just one more reason to hang him, but he stepped back, raising his hands in surrender.
“What was it you thought Mr. Chisholm did to your daughter?” Halley asked again.
Sid Granger seemed to have trouble speaking. He swallowed several times, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Tears filled his eyes. He hastily brushed them away with his shirtsleeve. Anger reddened his face. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“He got her pregnant,” Millie said from the rocker where she’d been sitting crying.
Colton took the news like a blow. He lowered himself to the couch. Looking up, he saw the deputy’s face. She’d obviously been anticipating something like this. Was this the news Jessica had wanted to tell him that night?
“He knocked her up and refused to marry her,” Sid finally managed to get out.
“No!” Colton bellowed. “That’s a lie. I didn’t know. She never …” His voice broke with emotion as it sank in. “I didn’t know,” he said more to himself than to the people in the room. He could feel Halley’s gaze on him. He doubted she believed him any more than Sid Granger did.
“As Mr. Chisholm said, your daughter wrote him a letter before the night she was to leave,” the deputy was saying. “That letter was lost and only delivered today. In the letter, she said she wanted him to run away with her. Do you know if she met him that night?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Sid snapped. “He’s sitting right there.”
“I’m asking you. When was the last time you saw your daughter?”
Millie spoke up from where the rocker. “I saw her that afternoon. She said she needed to run an errand. I wouldn’t let her take the car so she had her friend Twyla pick her up.”
“Twyla?” Halley asked.
“Twyla Reynolds.” Millie looked to Sid. He had sat back down again and now had one arm over his face. “Sid, when was the last time you saw Jessica?”
“That evening after she came home,” he said, his words muffled. “She said she was going to bed. I just assumed …”
“You have to understand,” Millie said. “The letters … We wanted to believe that she was alive. If I noticed something different about the way she wrote, I just thought it was because she’d changed over the years.”
“Didn’t you ever wonder what she’d done with the baby?” Colton asked, still angry because something had been wrong in this house or Jessica would never have been at their secret spot that night. She would never have needed to run away. She would still be alive today.
He could see that Deputy Halley Robinson was asking questions as if she still thought Jessica might be alive. She was the only person in this room, though, who believed that now.
“I’d hoped that she had the baby and was raising our grandchild …” Millie looked away.
“I’d like to have a handwriting expert look at the letters that were sent to you,” Halley said. “If you get any more, please try not to handle them so we can dust them for prints.”
Millie nodded distractedly. “We weren’t due to get another one for almost a year. I would imagine they will stop coming now.”
Only if the killer finds out that Jessica’s disappearance is being investigated, Colton thought. But the way news spread in this county, if the killer was still around, he would know soon enough.
“Do you have anything Jessica wrote before she left that we could compare it to?” Halley was asking.
Millie pushed herself to her feet. “I’m sure there is something in her room. It’s just as she left it.”
Colton started to rise to follow the deputy and Millie upstairs to Jessica’s room, but Sid Granger stopped him.
“You aren’t going in her room,” Sid said, blocking his way. “If you hadn’t gotten her pregnant …”
“Why don’t you wait outside,” Halley suggested to Colton.
He could have put up a fight, but he didn’t have any fight left in him and there was nothing more to accomplish in this house, even if he could stand another moment in it. All he could think about was Jessica. She had been pregnant with his baby. But they’d been so careful. Not that any of that mattered now.
She must have been planning to tell him about the baby that night. Hadn’t she realized that he would have been excited about the prospect of being a father? He would never have deserted her. Never.
As he left the house, he tried to swallow the lump in his throat at the realization that if he was right and Jessica had never left the spot under the trees that night, then his baby had died with her.
“I think I have everything I need for now,” Halley said a few moments later as she and Millie came out through the screen door to the porch and started down the steps to where Colton was waiting.
As she headed for her patrol SUV parked in the yard, she shot him a look. He could tell that she’d found more of Jessica’s handwriting and it matched the letter he’d received fourteen years too late—not the ones someone had been sending her parents in the interim.
“I’ll let you know what we find out,” the deputy promised Millie who’d followed them as far as the vehicle and stood looking even smaller and even more terrified.
Colton saw her glance back toward the house. Sid stood in the doorway. Millie Granger visibly shuddered at the sight of her husband. As Colton looked toward the man in the doorway, he thought of the man’s temper, his obsession with Jessica, his hatred of Colton. What if Sid had followed his daughter that night and caught her at the secret spot on the creek?
“You all right?” the deputy asked as she started the SUV.
He could feel her gaze on him as he suppressed a chill at the thought of what Sid Granger might have been capable of when it came to his daughter—was still capable of doing when it came to his wife.
“You didn’t know she was pregnant.”
It wasn’t a question but he answered anyway. “No.”
“I assume the baby was yours?”
He looked over at her, anger hitting him again with sudden heat. “Why would you even ask that? You saw the letter. She wanted me to run away with her.”
Halley nodded, but said nothing until they were back at his pickup parked at the edge of the road where he’d left it earlier. As he started to get out of the patrol car, she said, “I’m going to need a sample of your handwriting.”
EMMA WOULD HAVE SAID she was the luckiest woman in the world if anyone had asked her just three seconds ago.
Moments before she’d been lying on the soft warm blanket on the pile of hay beside her husband, his arm around her, trying to catch her breath after their love-making. She’d been wondering if other people their age still felt like this, and felt bad for them if they didn’t.
But then Hoyt’s cell phone had vibrated on the blanket beside him and he’d snatched it up, checked to see who was calling, then he’d seemed to hesitate as if wanting to take the call and yet—
“Go ahead,” Emma had said, sitting up to stretch. She knew how he was about business. Running this ranch was what kept him young.
“I really need to take this.” He rose stark naked and walked down to the end of the hayloft.
Any other time Emma wouldn’t have paid any attention, but something in the way Hoyt was standing, his back to her, his shoulders slumped over slightly, his voice low …
Her heart suddenly took off at a gallop as she noticed something that hadn’t fully registered before. This wasn’t the first time he’d checked to see who was calling and said, “I need to take this,” and hurried out of the room. Or taken the call out on the porch. Or rushed downstairs. Or, like now, moved to the other end of the hayloft. These calls weren’t about ranch business.
Ice-cold fear moved through her. She couldn’t hear what he was saying but she could read his body language. There was secrecy in the way he spoke into the phone.
Emma tried to fight the terror that clutched her heart like a fist. She told herself that she was being foolish. Hoyt loved her. Only her. She had no reason to question his love.
He snapped the phone shut, turned toward her and she saw his face and knew. Her husband looked guilty as hell.
Emma had never thought she’d be one of those women who didn’t want to know the truth. But right now, she felt too vulnerable, lying naked on a horse blanket in a hayloft after making love to the man she loved.
Quickly she hid her own face so he couldn’t see her fear as she reached for her clothes.
HALLEY CALLED SHERIFF MCCALL CRAWFORD, who was in Great Falls tied up on a federal case, to update her on the Granger case.
“Sheriff Winchester, I mean, Crawford,” McCall said with a small laugh.
The sheriff wasn’t the only one who was having trouble getting used to her married name. Most everyone in town still referred to her as Sheriff Winchester. When Halley filled the sheriff in, McCall told her to let the state crime investigators take the case from here on out—and to wait for their arrival.
When the team arrived by small plane that afternoon, she drove them to the crime scene, which a deputy had cordoned off, and waited to make sure nothing was disturbed.
Earlier, she’d told Colton to go home, warning him not to leave town.
He’d actually pulled himself together enough to chuckle at that on the drive back to his pickup from the Granger house.
“You must think I’m an idiot. You probably already suspect I’m a murderer. But do you really think I’m going to make a run for it?”
“I don’t know, are you?” He’d given her an impatient look and she’d had to ask, “So tell me about Jessica.”
“What do you want to know?” He’d sounded despondent.
“What was she like?” Halley remembered Jessica Granger, the girl Colton had started chasing at the end of junior high. Shortly after that Halley had talked her father into moving away from Whitehorse. “You were in love with her, right? There must have been a reason.”
He had looked out the side window for so long she’d thought he wasn’t going to answer. “You’re not going to understand because she wasn’t like you.”
She’d shot him a look, not sure how to take that, but taking it badly, just the same.
“Jessica wasn’t strong. She needed me.”
“That was the appeal?” Halley asked in surprise.
He had finally looked in her direction. “Jessica needed someone to take care of her, to protect her from her old man. But I failed her.”
“She needed protection from her father?” Halley couldn’t help thinking about how she herself had needed someone to protect her from Colton Chisholm. She’d had to learn to fight her own battles. No one had come to her rescue. The thought drove the arrow even deeper in her heart and made her all the more angry that Colton, when he’d finally fallen for a girl, had fallen for one who he said himself was nothing like her.
“You met Sid,” was all he said before climbing out of the patrol car.
She’d watched him go, seeing the toll this was taking on him, telling herself that a murderer might act the same way, especially if he couldn’t take the guilt anymore.
Now, as Halley watched the crime techs begin the search for a body, she told herself her suspicions about Colton had nothing to do with how she felt about him today or all those years ago when he’d broken her tender heart.
The breeze stirred the cottonwoods as the creek whispered past. It seemed too beautiful a spot for the crime techs to be looking for a young woman’s remains, but there was little doubt in her mind now that Jessica Granger was dead, that she’d died here.
Whether or not they would find Jessica, though, was another story. Halley suspected it would have been a shallow grave somewhere along this creek bottom. Which meant animals could have dug up the grave and carried away the bones years ago.
“I MIGHT NEED A LAWYER.”
Emma had been picking at her supper but looked up now as everyone else at the table turned toward Colton. Like her, he’d hardly touched his food and he’d passed on apple pie. That wasn’t like him. Hoyt hadn’t eaten much, either. There was almost a full piece of pie on his plate.
“A lawyer?” she repeated. Since Hoyt’s call in the barn, she’d tried to keep busy and think about anything but her own horrible suspicions.
“Why would you need a lawyer?” Hoyt asked.
Colton rubbed a hand over his jaw. “To make a long story short, there’s at least one law enforcement officer in the county who thinks I killed Jessica Granger.”
Hoyt froze, fork in hand. “What? I thought she left town.”
Emma noticed that her husband had gone very pale.
“Apparently, she planned on leaving but I don’t think she made it. Neither does the deputy now scouring a spot not far from here for her remains,” Colton said, pain in his voice.
“I don’t understand why they would think someone killed her,” Hoyt said and Emma found herself studying her husband. Of course he’d be upset about such an allegation against his son, but when he set down his fork, she saw that his hand was shaking.
