Homicide at Whiskey Gulch

by Elle James

  Once they were both inside, buckled and on their way, Trace turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

  Lily snapped, “Why does everyone assume something’s wrong?”

  He blinked and snorted. “It was a simple question. If everything was all right in your world, you would have answered without jumping down my throat.”

  “I’m not jumping down your throat,” she said, toning down her argument, realizing she was overreacting to his question. Folding her hands in her lap, she drew in a deep, calming breath and let it out. “Nothing’s wrong.”

  “Then why are you avoiding me?” he asked.

  Heat filled her cheeks and her fingers curled into the denim on her legs. “I’m not avoiding you,” she lied.

  “Lily, you never were a good liar.” He glanced at her hands in her lap. “Your face is red, and your hands are clenching.”

  Lily straightened her hands on her thighs and willed the heat out of her face. “I’m fine. And I don’t want to talk.”

  “Okay.” He drove for another minute without saying a word. The minute stretched into two very long minutes before he broke the silence. “While you’re doing your thing, I thought I’d stop by the sheriff’s office and see if they’ve had any leads on my father’s murder.”

  A frown pulled Lily’s brow low. “I’d like to be there when you talk to the sheriff.”

  “Okay.” Trace nodded. “I can wait for you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Where do you want to go first?” he asked.

  “The bank,” she said. “I’m low on cash. I need to make a withdrawal.”

  “Drive-through?”

  Lily shook her head. “I’d prefer to go inside.”

  Trace drove into town and parked in the bank parking lot.

  “I’ll only be a short time,” Lily said.

  He’d started to unbuckle his belt but paused. “I’ll wait here.”

  Lily hurried out of the vehicle and into the bank. She skipped the teller and went to one of the account managers. “I’d like to close my account and withdraw all my money.”

  Cecilia Menn was someone Lily had gone to high school with. She frowned. “Is everything okay, Lily?”

  Lily’s eyes stung, but she managed a nod. “Everything’s fine. I’m just moving.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Cecilia said as she typed on her keyboard. “Don’t you want to leave the account open until you’re established in your new home and then transfer the money over?”

  Lily shook her head. “No, I want to withdraw all of it and close it. I’m not sure how long it will take me to find a new bank.” A new job and a place to live. Hell, she had no idea where she was going. Just away from Whiskey Gulch. Maybe she’d go to San Antonio. She’d always wanted to visit the Alamo. Her chest tightened. This town had been her life. Not always a good life, but it had been her home since the day she was born. Leaving was going to be harder than she thought. Especially because she was leaving behind the only man she’d ever loved. Tears welled in her eyes.

  Cecilia reached across the desk. “Are you okay?” She plucked a tissue from the box on the corner of her desk and handed it to Lily.

  “I’m fine. Just a little nostalgic.” Lily pressed the tissue to the corners of her eyes, refusing to let the tears slip down her cheeks. Trace couldn’t know that she was crying. She never cried in front of him. She wouldn’t start now.

  “Do you want all cash, a check or a mix?” Cecilia asked.

  “Cash.”

  “That’s a lot of cash to carry around,” Cecilia warned.

  Not really, Lily thought. Not considering it was her life savings. She just hoped she didn’t have to use it all before she found another job, in another town. Not to mention an apartment, deposits on an apartment, utilities and more. She might last a couple months before she ran out of funds.

  She carried a cashier’s check to the teller, who counted out the sum of her savings in hundreds and some change. Lily stuffed the wad of bills into her purse and zipped the opening, feeling like a bank robber making a run for it.

  Cecilia closed her account and came around her desk to give her a hug. “I wish you well. And know that you’ll be missed in Whiskey Gulch.”

  “I doubt that,” she murmured.

  Cecilia caught her arms and stared into her eyes. “I’ll miss you. You’ve always been kind to me when others haven’t been.”

  “Thank you, Cecelia, and likewise. I will miss you.” Lily hugged the account manager and made a dash for the door, praying she didn’t burst into tears in front of Trace.

  She climbed up into the truck, averting her gaze.

  When Trace didn’t move to start the engine, Lily forced herself to look through the windshield at the street leading to the sheriff’s office. “Think they will have found any more information?” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Trace staring at her.

  “We can hope,” Trace said. Finally, he started the engine and drove out of the parking lot and down Main Street to the sheriff’s office.

  When he parked, he remained in his seat a moment longer than necessary. “Look, Lily, if I’ve said anything or done anything to upset you, I wish you’d tell me. I can’t read minds.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, grabbing for the door handle. “You haven’t done anything. I told you, I’m fine.” Lily pushed open the door and slid down from her seat.

  Trace joined her at the front of the truck. He hooked her elbow in his hand and guided her into the office.

  Sheriff Owens met them with an outstretched hand. “I’m glad you came by. I had a visit from Marty Bains this morning.”

  “Why did he come in?” Lily asked.

  “I told him and Alan that if they remembered anything about that day of James Travis’s murder, no matter how insignificant it might be, to bring it to me.”

  “And?” Trace prompted.

  “He said he remembered looking for the four-wheelers in an outbuilding. He found one, but the other was missing.” The sheriff frowned. “He was going to ask Mr. Travis about it, but that’s about the time Mr. Travis’s horse brought him home.”

  “Why did he think that was important?” Trace asked.

  The sheriff’s jaw tightened. “He said it was there that morning.”

  “If he was working around the barn all day, wouldn’t he have heard it moved?” Lily asked.

  “He said the only time he and Alan weren’t near the outbuildings was at lunch,” Sheriff Owens said. “Mrs. Travis invited them in for sandwiches.”

  “What about Roy? Where was he?” Trace asked.

  The sheriff nodded. “I asked the same question. Marty said Roy left the ranch earlier that day, claiming he had errands to run in town.”

  “So, no one saw who took the four-wheeler,” Trace said. “And that four-wheeler is still missing. It could be the person who stole the four-wheeler was the same one shooting at us when we were cutting hay two days ago.”

  Lily’s fists bunched. Trace had nearly been shot that day. It was also the day he’d gotten into an altercation with Matt.

  “If we could find that four-wheeler, we might lift some latent prints,” the sheriff said.

  “A big if.” Lily sighed. “We’ll keep our eyes open for it. Thanks for letting us know.”

  “One other thing,” Sheriff Owens said. “The medical examiner said the bullet that killed your father was fired in an upward trajectory. Since your father was riding a horse, the shooter had to have been on the ground and close by. If we could find the location of the crime, we might find the bullet casings nearby. It wasn’t like the shooter was a sniper several hundred yards away.” The sheriff’s lips pressed into a firm line. “That’s if we can find the crime scene.”

  “When it could have happened anywhere on the twelve hundred acres of Whiskey Gulch Ranch.
..” Trace started.

  “And it’s rained since then...” Lily added.

  “It’s highly unlikely we’ll find the exact spot,” the sheriff concluded. “But it’s good to know, in case we do.”

  As they left the sheriff’s office, a large, black SUV pulled up next to Trace’s pickup and Oswald Young leaned out the window. “Trace, you got a minute?”

  Trace crossed to where the other man sat in his vehicle. “What’s up?”

  “One of my guides was out setting up hunting stands today and noticed some cattle ranging on the Rocking J Ranch.”

  “So?” Trace asked.

  “We aren’t running cattle on the Rocking J Ranch. We’re a game outfitting ranch. We sold off all but a few head of cattle and keep them in a pasture close to the lodge. My foreman checked and the cattle he found are branded with WG.”

  “The Whiskey Gulch brand,” Trace concluded. “We must have a fence down. If we come collect the cattle, will you have hunters out there shooting at us?”

  Oswald shook his head. “We’re holding off all hunting until the cattle have been rounded up and removed from the premises.”

  “So, the sooner we get them off, the sooner your hunters can get back to what they pay you for.” Trace held out his hand. “On our way now.”

  “Thank you. Let me know if you need help. My guys aren’t cowboys, but they can lend a hand if needed.”

  “I think we can handle getting the cattle back over on the Whiskey Gulch and fix the break in the fence,” Trace said.

  “Thanks.” Oswald tipped his head toward the sheriff’s office. “Did they find the man who shot your father?”

  Trace shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “I hope they do,” Oswald said, a frown creasing his brow. “The sooner, the better. I hate to think there’s a killer out there. As an outfitter, it’s my responsibility to keep my clients safe.”

  “That’s hard to do when we don’t know who killed Mr. Travis,” Lily said quietly.

  “Exactly.” Oswald gave a nod. “Let me know if we can help with rounding up cattle or mending fences. I understand you’re shorthanded on the Whiskey Gulch Ranch. But now that you’re back, hopefully things will get straightened out.”

  Lily didn’t add that Trace wasn’t back for good. Whether he stayed or returned to active duty, she wouldn’t know. She’d be somewhere else, starting over and moving on. Lily climbed into the passenger seat of Trace’s truck and stared straight ahead.

  Trace started around the front of the truck, hesitated and glanced toward Matt’s auto shop two blocks away. Then he slipped behind the wheel and drove to the shop, parking out front.

  Matt came out, wiping his hands on an oily rag. He tipped his head toward Lily, his gaze turning to Trace. “Everything all right?”

  Trace leaned out the window. “If you want to be part of this ranch,” he started, “we could use your help rounding up Whiskey Gulch cattle on Rocking J land.”

  Matt’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know much about herding cattle, but I’m willing to learn. I’ll be out there as soon as I close up the shop.”

  Trace pulled out of the parking lot onto Main Street, his lips quirking upward. “I wonder if he’s ever been on a horse,” he muttered.

  Lily wondered if Trace was about to test his half brother. “If he hasn’t, you might cut him some slack.”

  Trace’s eyes narrowed as he looked across the console at Lily. “He’ll have to go on horseback if he’s going at all. We don’t have four-wheelers to get us there and we don’t know if we can get a truck across the terrain. It’s hilly and rocky in a lot of areas on the Rocking J.”

  “I know. Just don’t do anything that will get him hurt. After all, you’re brothers.” She raised an eyebrow and shot a direct glance his way.

  “Half brothers,” Trace corrected.

  “No matter how you feel about Matt, you can’t give your mother another body to bury,” she said, her voice hard, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Matt didn’t do anything to you. If you’re mad about what happened eleven years ago, blame me.”

  Trace’s hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He had driven five miles out of town before he relaxed. He loosened his grip and his fingers turned back to their normal color. “You’re right,” he said. “My mother doesn’t need another body to bury.”

  A couple of miles passed in a whir of images blurred by unshed tears.

  “Why did you lie to me?” Trace asked.

  Lily had dreaded that question for the past eleven years. At the same time, she welcomed it. Finally, she could set herself free of the lie. Then she could move on with her life, away from Whiskey Gulch. “You needed to leave.”

  “I was leaving.”

  “You were heading into the military. A relationship with me would have dragged you down. Maybe even kept you from getting security clearance. I couldn’t let that happen.” She drew in a deep breath. “So, I broke up with you in the only way I knew that would keep you from giving up on your decision to join the army.”

  Trace’s foot left the accelerator, the truck slowing almost to a stop on the highway. “That’s it? You lied to me about marrying Hennessey so that my clearance would go through?” He shook his head. “That’s about the saddest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

  “Yeah, well, we were kids. What did you expect? You needed to be free and I needed to grow up and realize what we had would never have lasted.” Lily swallowed hard on the sob rising up her throat. “We were from completely different worlds.”

  “And you didn’t give me the opportunity to decide what was good or bad for me. You made up my mind for me.” He snorted. “That’s a hell of a note.” His foot jammed down on the accelerator. “I guess I should say thanks for saving me from a fate worse than death.”

  The anger in his voice cut through her like a knife. She fought back the tears by urging her own anger to the surface. “You thought everything would be all roses and sunshine. You’ve never lost a fight just because of who you were associated with. How would you have felt if the army denied your clearance because you were dating a woman whose father was a convicted felon?” She glared at him. “You would have been stuck here in Whiskey Gulch, hating your father and hating me. That’s why I lied to you.” Tears slipped from her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “It broke my heart, but I did it for you, damn it.”

  Trace slowed the truck again, pulled onto the shoulder of the road and shifted into Park.

  “What...what are you doing?” Lily blinked back the tears.

  “I’m stopping the truck so I can do this.” He reached across the seat, unbuckled her seatbelt, gripped her arms, and dragged her over the console and into his lap. Then his lips were crushing hers in a kiss that stole her breath away.

  For only a second, she considered fighting him off. Her body and mouth betrayed her. As if of their own accord, her arms snaked around his neck and pressed him closer. When his tongue traced the seam of her lips, she opened to him, meeting him thrust for thrust, loving the way he tasted and felt. He didn’t stop kissing her until they were both out of breath and forced to come up for air.

  Trace leaned his forehead against hers. “Do you think I cared about what the army decided was good or bad? I would have walked away from the military if they refused to accept me with you.”

  “Then what? You and your father were butting heads. He didn’t like me. I wasn’t good enough for his son.”

  “You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and still are,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose.

  “What about your military career? Won’t they frown on your association with the daughter of a felon?”

  He snorted. “If they do, too bad. They’d have to take me as I am, or I walk.”

  “But you love the army.”

  “I love you more.” He
gathered her close and held her against him in a tight hug. “I don’t ever want to be without you. The last eleven years made me realize how much I love you.”

  “You had eleven years to forget me,” she whispered.

  “And did you forget me?” he asked, staring down into her eyes.

  “I tried,” she said. Lily shook her head. “I failed. You were my first...and only love.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Trace couldn’t believe she’d just admitted to loving him. All these years, he’d longed to be right where he was, but he thought he’d lost his chance all those years ago. “I should have come back and fought for you.”

  “You were busy fighting wars,” she said. “But, yes, you should have come back and fought for me, too.”

  “Can you forgive me for failing as a knight in shining armor?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “If you can forgive me for the lie I told you about Matt.” She bit down on her lip, praying he could.

  “I get it now. I didn’t get it when I was eighteen.” He kissed her again, all the world fading away when his lips touched hers.

  The whine of an engine nearing them brought him back to the present and the fact they were parked on the side of the highway, making out.

  A motorcycle pulled up beside the truck and stopped.

  Trace glanced at the rider as he pulled off his helmet.

  Matt Hennessey peered into the truck, his eyes narrowing. “You two all right?”

  Trace grinned. “Better than all right.”

  “Good. I thought you might have broken down.” His brow crinkled. “You all right, Lily?”

  Lily smiled. “I am.”

  “Then I’ll leave you two to whatever it is you’re doing.” He slipped the helmet over his head and buckled the strap beneath his chin. “I’ll be waiting when you get to the ranch.” He glanced at the sun that had slipped past its zenith and was heading toward the horizon. “Don’t take too long. No telling how long we’ll need to round up those cows.” With those parting words, he revved his engine and sped off, kicking up gravel behind him.

  Trace sighed. “As much as I’d rather hold you forever, we have cattle to round up.”