by Rita Herron
The medical examiner, Dr. Liam Longmire, narrowed his eyes as he examined the body they unearthed when they’d swept the debris from the bones. Most of the skeleton was intact. Of course, the bones had decayed and been mauled by animals, but there were enough that they’d be able to identify him. That is, if they had medical records to compare to.
“What about Ron Lewis?” Dugan asked. “It could be him.”
Sheriff Gandt adjusted the waistband of his uniform pants and chewed on a blade of grass, his silence surprising. The man usually had an answer for everything.
Dr. Longmire looked up at Dugan, then Gandt. “I can’t say who he is yet, but this man didn’t die from a fire or from the elements.”
“What was the cause of death?” Dugan asked.
Longmire pointed to the rib cage and thoracic cavity. “See the markings of a bullet? It shattered one of his ribs. I can tell more when I get him on the table, but judging from the angle, it appears the bullet probably pierced his heart.”
Dugan glanced at Gandt, who made a harrumph sound.
“Guess you’ve got a murder to investigate, Sheriff,” Dugan said.
Gandt met his gaze with stone-cold, gray eyes, then glanced at the M.E. “How long has he been dead?”
“My guess is a couple of years.” Dr. Longmire paused. “That’d be about the time that Lewis man ran off with Sage Freeport’s kid.”
Gandt nodded, his mouth still working that blade of grass. But his grim expression told Dugan this body was more of a nuisance than a case he wanted to work.
“I’ll request Lewis’s dental records,” Dr. Longmire said. “If they match, we’ll know who our victim is.”
Gandt started to walk away, but Dugan cleared his throat. “Sheriff, aren’t you going to get a crime unit to comb the area and look for evidence?”
“Don’t see no reason for that,” Gandt muttered. “If the man’s been dead two years, probably ain’t nothin’ to find. Besides, the flood last week would have washed away any evidence.” He gestured to the south. “That said, Lewis’s car was found farther downstream. If his body got in the water, it would have floated further downstream, not up here.”
“Not if his body was dumped in a different place from where he died.”
“You’re grasping at straws.” Gandt directed his comment to the M.E. “ID him and then we’ll go from there.”
The sheriff could be right. The victim could have been a drifter. Or a man from another town. Hell, he could have been one of the two prisoners who’d escaped jail a couple years back, ones who’d never been caught.
But the sheriff should at least be looking for evidence near where the body was found.
Gandt strode toward his squad car, and Dugan used his phone to take photographs of the bones. Dr. Longmire offered a commentary on other injuries he noted the body had sustained, and Dugan made a note of them.
Then Longmire directed the medics to load the body into the van to transport to the morgue, making sure they were careful to keep the skeleton intact and preserve any forensic evidence on the bones.
Dugan combed the area, scrutinizing the grass and embankment near where the bones had washed up. He also searched the brush for clues. He plucked a small scrap of fabric from a briar and found a metal button in the mud a few feet from the place where he’d first discovered the bones. He bagged the items for the lab to analyze, then conducted another sweep of the property, spanning out a half mile in both directions.
Unfortunately, Gandt was right. With time, weather and the animals foraging in the wilderness, he couldn’t pinpoint if the body had gone into the river here or some other point.
Frustrated, he finally packed up and headed back to town.
But a bad feeling tightened his gut. Gandt had closed the case involving Sage Freeport’s missing son and Lewis too quickly for his taste.
How would he handle this one?
BY LATE AFTERNOON, news of the bones found at Cobra Creek reached Sage through the grapevine in the small Texas town. She was gathering groceries to bake her famous coconut cream pie when she overheard two women talking about the hikers that had been recovered safely.
The checkout lady, Lorraine Hersher, the cousin of the M.E., broke in. “A body was found out at the creek. Nothing but the bones left.”
Sage inched her way up near the register.
“Who was it?” one of the women asked.
“Don’t think they know yet. Liam said he was checking dental records. But he said the man had been dead about two years.”
Sage’s stomach clenched. Two years? About the time Ron’s car had crashed.
Could it possibly be...?
Desperate for answers, she pushed her cart to the side, leaving her groceries inside it, then hurried toward the door. The sheriff’s office was across the square, and she tugged her jacket around her, battling a stiff breeze as she crossed the street.
Sheriff Gandt had been less than helpful when Benji had gone missing. He wouldn’t want her bugging him now.
But she’d long ago decided she didn’t care what he thought.
She charged inside the office, surprised to see Dugan Graystone standing inside at the front desk. She’d seen the big man in town a few times, but he kept to himself. With his intense, dark brown eyes and brooding manner, some said he was a loner but that he was the best tracker in Texas. Tall, broad shoulders, sharp cheekbones—the package was handsome. Half the women in town thought he was sexy, while the other half were afraid of him.
Dr. Longmire stood next to him, the sheriff on the opposite side of the desk.
All three men turned to look at her as she entered, looking like they’d been caught doing something wrong.
Sage lifted her chin in a show of bravado. “I heard about the body you found at Cobra Creek.”
Dugan’s brown eyes met hers, turmoil darkening the depths, while Gandt shot her one of his condescending looks. She couldn’t believe the man had ever been married and understood why he wasn’t anymore.
She had heard that he’d taken in his ailing mother, that the elderly woman was wheelchair-bound, difficult and demanding. Even though she disliked Gandt, she had to admit his loyalty to his mother was admirable.
“Who was it?” Sage asked.
Dr. Longmire adjusted his hat, acknowledging her with a politeness bred from a different era. “The body belonged to Ron Lewis.”
Sage gasped. “You’re sure?”
“Dental and medical records confirm it,” the M.E. said.
Sage’s legs threatened to give way. She caught herself by dropping onto a chair across from the desk. Tears clogged her throat as panic and fear seized her.
But she’d been in the dark for two years, and she had to know the truth.
Even if it killed her.
“Was Benji with him?”
Chapter Two
Sage held her breath. “Sheriff, did you find Benji?”
Sheriff Gandt shook his head. “No. Just Lewis’s body.”
Relief spilled through Sage. “Then my son... He may still be out there. He may be alive.”
Dugan and the medical examiner traded questioning looks, but the sheriff’s frown made her flinch. Did he know something he wasn’t telling her? Was that the reason he’d closed the case so quickly after Benji disappeared?
“Ms. Freeport,” Sheriff Gandt said in a tone he might use with a child, “Dr. Longmire believes Ron Lewis has been dead since the day of that crash. That means that your son has been, too. We just haven’t found his body yet. Probably because of the elements—”
“That’s enough, Sheriff,” Dugan said sharply.
Sheriff Gandt shot Dugan an irritated look. “I believe your part is done here, Graystone.”
Sage gripped the edge of the desk. “How did Ron die, Sheriff?”
“Ms. Freeport, why don’t you go home and calm down—”
“He died of a gunshot wound,” Dugan said, cutting off the sheriff.
Sage barely stifled
a gasp. “Then the car crash...? That didn’t kill him.”
“No,” Dr. Longmire said, “he most likely bled out.”
Sage’s mind raced. Who had shot Ron? And why? “The shot caused the crash,” she said, piecing together a scenario in her head.
“That would be my guess,” Dr. Longmire said.
“Was there a bullet hole in the car?” Dugan asked Gandt.
Sheriff Gandt shrugged. “I don’t know. The fire destroyed most of it.”
Sage folded her arms and stared at the sheriff. “But that bullet proves Ron Lewis’s death was no accident. He was murdered.”
* * *
DUGAN WORKED TO rein in his anger toward Gandt. The weasel should be comforting Sage and reassuring her he’d do everything humanly possible to find the truth about what happened to her son.
That was what he’d do if he was sheriff.
But he lacked the power and money the Gandts had, and in this small town, that seemed to mean everything.
“It appears that way,” Sheriff Gandt told Sage. “And I will be investigating the matter. But—” he lifted a warning hand to Sage “—if your son had survived, we would have found him by now, Ms. Freeport. Odds are that the shooter fired at Lewis, he crashed and managed to get out of the car and fled. Maybe your son was with him, maybe not. But if he made it to the water with Lewis, he couldn’t have survived the frigid temperature or the current. He would have been swept downstream and drowned.”
“Sheriff,” Dugan snarled, hating the man’s cold bluntness.
The M.E. gave Sage a sympathetic look, then excused himself and hurried out the door.
Sheriff Gandt tugged at his pants. Damn man needed a belt to keep the things up. That or lose thirty pounds around his belly so he didn’t have to wear them so low.
“I know you want me to sugarcoat things, Graystone, but I’m the sheriff, not a damn counselor. I tell it like it is. Good or bad.”
Still, he could consider Sage’s feelings. She’d lost a child. “Part of your job is to protect innocent citizens and to find out the truth when something happens to one of them. Benji Freeport was three. He was certainly innocent.” Dugan squared off with the sheriff. “But you haven’t done a damn thing to give his mother closure or find the answers she needs.”
“You think bringing her a mangled bunch of bones is going to make her feel better?” Sheriff Gandt said.
“That would hurt, but at least I’d know the truth,” Sage said. “And now that we know Ron was murdered, there is a chance that whoever shot him took Benji.” Sage’s voice cracked. “That means that Benji may be out there, alone, in trouble, needing me. That he’s been waiting for us to find him all this time.”
Dugan’s chest tightened at the emotions in her voice. Emotions she had every right to feel, because she’d spoken the truth.
Sheriff Gandt swung a crooked finger toward the door. “I don’t need either of you telling me how to do my job. Now, leave so I can get to it.”
“Then let me know what you find.” Sage clutched her shoulder bag, turned and walked out the door.
Dugan stared at the sheriff. “She deserves to know what happened to her son. And if he’s alive, she deserves to bring him home.”
“She’s deluding herself if she thinks she’ll find him alive,” Sheriff Gandt said. “She needs to accept that he’s gone and move on with her life.”
Dugan had never had a child, but if he did and that child disappeared, he’d move heaven and earth to find him. “You are going to investigate Lewis’s murder, aren’t you? After all, you owe it to the people in the town to make sure that his killer isn’t still among them.”
Gandt tapped his badge. “In case you’ve forgotten, Graystone, the people elected me, so they obviously have confidence in my abilities. Now, get out of my office.”
Dugan shot him a go-to-hell look, turned and stormed out the door. The man might make a token gesture to solve Lewis’s murder.
But he doubted he would put forth any effort to hunt for Benji Freeport.
Dugan spotted Sage sitting on a park bench in the square, her face buried in her hands, her body trembling.
He headed across the square to join her. If Gandt wouldn’t find Sage’s son for her, he would.
* * *
SAGE WAS SO ANGRY she was shaking all over. Sheriff Gandt had stonewalled her before.
But how could he dismiss her so easily now that they knew that Ron Lewis had been murdered?
Ron’s face flashed in her mind, and her stomach revolted. She’d been such a fool to trust him. Why had he taken her son with him that day? Where was he going?
And who had killed him?
The questions ate at her. None of it made sense.
Ron had waltzed into her life and charmed her with his good looks, his business sense and his talk of giving the town a face-lift and bringing in tourism. Tourists would have greatly impacted her income, so she’d been on board from the beginning.
Maybe that was the one reason he’d warmed up to her. Had he thought she could influence the town council with his plans for putting Cobra Creek on the map?
Footsteps crunched on gravel, and she suddenly felt someone beside her. A hand on her shoulder.
She jerked her head up, wiping at the tears streaming down her face, and stared into Dugan Graystone’s dark eyes. The man was a rebel of sorts and was the only person she’d ever known to go up against the sheriff.
High cheekbones sculpted an angular face, evidence of his Native American roots. His chiseled face was bronzed from work on the ranch, his hands were broad and strong looking, his big body made for ranching and working the land.
Or for a woman.
She silently chided herself. Just because she felt vulnerable and needy, and Dugan was strong and powerful looking, didn’t mean she’d fall prey to his charms.
No man would ever get close to her again.
“What do you want?” Sage asked, a little more harshly than she’d intended.
Dugan’s eyes flared at her tone. “Gandt is a first-class jerk.”
His comment deflated her anger, and a nervous laugh escaped her. “Yes, he is.”
“He said he’d look into Lewis’s murder.”
“Sure he will.” Sage brushed her hands together. “Like he looked into the crash two years ago.”
Dugan sank his big body onto the bench beside her. “I know you were engaged to Lewis and want answers about who killed him.”
Anger shot through Sage. “We may have been engaged, but that was obviously a mistake. The minute he took my son from my house without my permission, any feelings I had for him died.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t care why he was murdered. In fact, I would have killed him myself for taking Benji if I’d found him.”
A tense second passed. “I understand,” Dugan said in a gruff voice.
“Do you? That man took everything from me.”
The anguish in her tone made his chest squeeze. “I’ll help you,” he said. “I’ll find out why Lewis was murdered.”
Sage studied his face. He seemed so sincere. Earnest. As if he actually cared.
But she wouldn’t buy in to that, not ever again.
On the other hand, Dugan had run for sheriff and Gandt had beaten him, so he probably had his own personal agenda. He wanted to show Gandt up and prove to the town that they’d elected the wrong man.
She really didn’t care about his motive. “All right. But understand this—the only reason I want to know who killed Ron is that it might lead me to my son. Whatever dirt you dig up on Ron is fine with me. I don’t care about his reputation or even my own, for that matter.”
Dugan studied her in silence for a few minutes. Sage felt the wind ruffle her hair, felt the heat from his body, felt the silence thick with the unknown.
“I’ll do everything I can to help you,” Dugan said gruffly. “But I may not find the answers you want.”
Sage understood the implications of his statement. �
��I know that.” She gripped her hands together. “All I want is the truth...no matter what it is.”
“Even if it’s not pretty?”
Sage nodded. “The truth can’t be any worse than what I’ve already imagined.”
* * *
DUGAN HOPED THAT was true. But there was the possibility that they’d find out her little boy had been burned in the fire. Or that he’d been kidnapped by a cold-blooded murderer.
The scenarios that came to mind sent a shot of fear through him. For all they knew, the shooter could have abducted Benji and sold him or handed him off to a group trafficking kids. Hell, he could have been a pedophile.
In fact, kidnapping the boy could have been the endgame all along.
Someone could have hired Lewis to get the boy.
But if so, why?
He had to ask questions, questions Sage might not like.
“You’ve done investigative work before?” Sage asked.
Dugan nodded. “I’ve been called in as a consultant on some cold cases. I have a friend, Texas Ranger Jaxon Ward, who I work with.”
“How do you know him?”
“We go way back,” Dugan said, remembering the foster home where they’d met.
Sage arched an eyebrow in question, but Dugan let the moment pass. They weren’t here to talk about him and his shady upbringing. “In light of the fact that Lewis’s body has been found, I’m going to enter your son’s picture into the system for missing children.”
Emotions darkened Sage’s soft green eyes, but she nodded. “Of course. I tried to get Sheriff Gandt to do that two years ago, but he was certain Benji died in the crash or drowned, and said it was a waste of time.”
That sounded like shoddy police work to him.
“If you want to stop by the inn, I can give you one of the latest pictures I took.”
“I’ll walk with you over there now.”
Sage stood, one hand clutching her shoulder bag. “Why don’t you meet me there in half an hour? I have an errand to run first.”
“Half an hour,” Dugan agreed.
Sage hesitated a moment, her breath shaky in the heartbeat of silence that stretched between them. “Thank you, Dugan. I can’t tell you what it means to have someone listen to me. I...know some people think I’m nuts. That I just can’t let go.”
