by Rita Herron
If Junior had killed his father, had he also killed Lewis? And why kill his old man if he was going to die and leave him his property, anyway?
The motive for Lewis’s murder was clear. Someone—either a woman or a man Lewis had deceived—had gotten revenge by murdering him. If a female had shot him, she’d probably wanted to lash out against him for his lies and betrayal. She might have seen Benji and decided to take him as her own.
On the other hand, if one of the ranchers Lewis had swindled killed him, he wouldn’t have wanted the kid. And he certainly couldn’t have kept him in Cobra Creek.
There was always the possibility that someone from Lewis’s past, another identity Dugan knew nothing about yet, had traced him to Cobra Creek under his new name and shot him.
A half hour later, he turned into a pricey condo development that featured its own stable, tennis courts and country club.
“Carol Sue lives here?” Sage asked.
“That’s the address I have. Either she has her own money or Lewis did well when they were together and she benefited.”
“Maybe she’s just a hardworking woman Ron tried to con.”
Dugan stopped at security and identified himself. The guard let him in, and Dugan checked the numbers for the buildings until he found Carol Sue’s condo, an end unit at the rear of the complex.
Designated spots were marked for visitors, but each condo had a built-in garage. He parked, and he and Sage walked up to the door. Dugan punched the doorbell and glanced around, noting that the small lawns were well tended, each unit painted to create a unified feel.
When no one answered, he rang the doorbell again, then stepped to the side to peer in the front window. There was no furniture inside.
“Looks like she’s moved out,” Dugan said.
Sage sighed. “Are you sure?”
“There’s no furniture in the living room. Let me check around back.” He descended the brick steps, then walked around the side of the condo. A small fenced-in yard offered privacy, and when he checked the gate, it was unlocked.
Sage followed on his heels as he entered the backyard. The stone patio held no outdoor furniture,. He crossed the lawn to the back but the door was locked.
Damn.
He removed a small tool from his pocket, picked the lock, then pushed the door open. The back opened to a narrow entryway with a laundry and mudroom to the left. Sage trailed him as he stepped into a modern kitchen with granite counters and stainless steel appliances.
“There’s no table.” Sage opened a few cabinet doors. “No food or dishes, either. You’re right. She’s gone.”
A noise sounded upstairs. Footsteps?
Dugan pulled his weapon and motioned for Sage to move behind him. Then he crept through the hallway. He checked the living and dining area. Both empty.
The footsteps sounded again. Then a woman appeared on the stairs. She threw up her hands and screamed when she saw them.
She was dressed in heels and a dress and wasn’t armed, so he lowered his gun.
“Sorry, ma’am. Are you Carol Sue?”
The woman fluttered her hand over her heart, visibly shaken. “No, I’m Tanya Willis, the real estate broker for the development. Who are you?”
Dugan identified himself and introduced Sage. “We’re looking for Carol Sue.”
“I have no idea where she is,” the woman said. “Why do you want to see her?”
“We think she was connected to a man, Ron Lewis, whose body was recently found in Cobra Creek. Carol Sue knew him by another name, though, Mike Martin.”
Tanya gasped and gripped the stair rail. “You said Mike was murdered?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Dugan replied.
Sage stepped up beside him. “He also took my little boy, Benji, with him the day he was killed. You may have seen the story on the news.”
“Oh, my God, yes.” Tanya swept one hand over her chest. “You think Carol Sue had something to do with that man’s murder and your little boy’s disappearance?”
“That’s what we’re trying to discern.” Dugan paused. “Does Carol Sue own the condo?”
“Yes,” Tanya said. “She was so excited when she first bought the place and moved in. Told me she’d never had a nice home before, and that her boyfriend had a windfall and they were planning to get married and live here together.”
“When was that?”
“A little over three years ago,” Tanya said. “I stopped to see her a couple of times after that, thought I’d meet her fiancé since he sounded so wonderful, but both times she said he was out of town.”
“Her boyfriend’s windfall was due to the fact that he was a con artist,” Dugan said.
Again, the real estate broker looked shocked.
“When did Carol Sue move out?” Sage asked.
“Just a couple of days ago,” Tanya said. “That was weird, too. She called me and said she had to relocate and wanted me to handle putting the unit on the market.”
Dugan traded looks with Sage. Had the discovery of Lewis’s body prompted her quick departure?
“Did she say why she had to relocate?” Sage asked.
Tanya shook her head, her lower lip trembling. “No, but she definitely sounded upset. Like she might be afraid of something.”
Dugan considered that comment. Had Carol Sue been upset because she’d learned Lewis was dead and feared his killer might come after her? Or because she’d killed him and didn’t want to get caught?
Or had the publicity about the murder and Benji’s disappearance made her run because she had Sage’s son?
* * *
SAGE TWISTED HER HANDS together as they left the condo complex. Dugan phoned his friend Jaxon, with the rangers, and relayed what they’d learned about Carol Sue.
Sage’s cell phone buzzed, and she checked the number. An unknown.
Curious, she hit Answer. “Hello.”
“You need to stop nosing around.”
A chill swept up her spine. It was a woman’s voice this time. “Who is this?”
“It doesn’t matter who it is. If you don’t stop, you’re going to end up dead.”
The phone clicked silent.
Sage’s hand trembled as she lowered the phone to her lap.
“Who was that?” Dugan asked.
“I don’t know,” Sage said, shaken and angry at the same time. “A woman. She warned me to stop nosing around or I’d end up dead.”
Dugan checked her phone. An unknown number. Probably a burner phone, but he called Jaxon to get a trace put on Sage’s phone in case the caller phoned again.
When he hung up, he turned to Sage, trying to make sense of everything. “First, a man breaks in and threatens you. And now a woman calls with threats. They must be working together.”
“Do you think it was Carol Sue?”
“Could be. Or it could have been Sandra Peyton.”
“But if Sandra met up with Ron before he died and took Benji, who is the man?”
“I don’t know,” Dugan said. “As far as we know, Sandra had nothing to do with the land scams in Cobra Creek.”
What if Sandra had reconnected with Ron and they’d planned to con the people in Cobra Creek, then disappear with the money?
If so, did she have Benji with her?
* * *
HE WAS CLOSE on Carol Sue’s tail. The damn woman thought she’d get away, but she was wrong.
He had to tie up all loose ends.
He held back in his car, following her at a safe distance, careful not to tip her off. She’d been hiding out since Lewis disappeared.
But she’d tried to blackmail him first.
He didn’t kowtow to blackmail from anyone.
Not that she had understood what was going on, but she knew enough.
Too much.
She swerved the little sedan into the motel, parked at the front and rushed inside, scanning the parking lot and checking over her shoulder as if she sensed she was being followed.
Stu
pid broad. She’d gotten greedy.
Now she would pay.
He parked to the side and waited until she rushed out with the key. She moved her car down the row of rooms to the last one at the end.
He grinned as she grabbed her bag and hurried inside the room.
Laughter bubbled in his chest.
Night was falling, but it wasn’t dark enough to strike just yet. The motel backed up to a vacant warehouse parking lot. There he might stick out.
Better to blend in with the crowd, so he parked a few spaces down in front of a room with no lights on, indicating it was vacant. Satisfied she’d tucked in for the evening, he walked across the street to the bar/diner.
He slid into a back booth and ordered a burger and beer but kept a low profile as he enjoyed his meal. Night had descended by the time he finished, but he wanted to wait another half hour to give the bar time to fill up so no one would notice him leaving.
So he ordered a piece of apple pie and coffee and took his time.
His belly full, he paid the bill in cash, then stepped outside for a smoke. The first drag gave him a nicotine buzz, and he stayed in the shadows of the bar until he finished and tossed the cigarette butt to the ground. He stomped it in the dirt with his boot, then walked back across the street.
Still, he waited, watching her room until she flipped off the lights. He gave her time to get to sleep, then slid from his car and eased down the row of rooms until he reached hers.
He quickly picked the lock, then inched inside. The soles of his shoes barely made any noise as he walked toward the bed. She lay curled beneath the blanket on her side, one hand resting beneath her face.
He grabbed a pillow from the chair, then leaned over her. Her eyes popped open, and she started to scream when she saw him.
But he shoved the pillow over her face and held it down, pressing it over her nose and mouth. She struggled, kicked and clawed at him, but he was stronger and used his weight to smother the life out of her.
Even after her limbs went still and her body limp, he kept the pillow on her for another two minutes to make sure she was dead.
He didn’t want her returning to haunt him and ruin all he’d done to get where he was.
In fact, he’d kill anyone who got in his way.
Including Sage Freeport and that damn Indian, who were asking questions all over Cobra Creek.
Chapter Eighteen
Dugan’s phone buzzed as he drove back to Cobra Creek.
“Mr. Graystone,” Donnell said, his voice hesitant.
“Yes. What can I do for you, Mr. Earnest?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said that day, about my ranch and that Lewis jerk.”
“Go on.”
“I heard Wilbur Rankins is dead.”
“That’s true. The sheriff said he shot himself because of the truth about the scam coming out.”
A tense moment passed. Earnest cleared his throat. “Listen to me, mister. I don’t know what the hell’s going on, but I do know Wilbur. That man was the most prideful man I’ve ever known. Sure, he would have hated being showed up by some bigwig stranger that duped him out of his land, but he would never kill himself. Never.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“First of all, he loved his grandson too damn much. He always said suicide was a coward’s way out. His daddy took his own life, and Wilbur hated him for it.”
Interesting. “What about his cancer? If he was in a lot of pain, maybe he committed suicide to keep his family from watching him suffer or to keep them from paying medical bills.”
Earnest mumbled a crude remark. “He might have been worried about money and bills, but he just got a report saying he was doing better. He thought he was going to beat that cancer after all.”
Dugan stifled a surprised response. That wasn’t the impression he’d gotten. “Do you know who his doctor was?”
“Doc Moser sent him to some specialist oncologist in San Antonio.”
“What is it you want me to do?” Dugan asked.
A long sigh echoed back. “Find out the truth. If Wilbur didn’t kill himself, then someone murdered him. And if it has to do with the land, I’m worried they’re gonna come after me.”
Dugan scrubbed his hand over his neck. That was a possibility. “Thanks for calling, Mr. Earnest. I’ll let you know what I find.”
When he hung up, Sage was watching him, so he relayed the conversation. Then he turned the SUV in the direction of the doctor’s office in Cobra Creek.
* * *
BY THE TIME they reached Cobra Creek, the doctor’s office was closed.
“Do you know where he lives?” Dugan asked.
“Two houses down from the inn.”
She pointed out Dr. Moser’s house, and Dugan parked. “Do you know him?”
Sage nodded. “He’s the only doctor around. He treated me and Benji.”
Dr. Moser’s house was a two story with flower boxes in front and a garden surrounded by a wrought-iron fence in back. His wife apparently spent hours tending her flowers.
Sage rang the bell while Dugan glanced up and down the street. A moment later, Mrs. Moser, graying hair and a kind smile, opened the door and greeted them.
Sage introduced Dugan and explained that he was helping her look for her son. “Can we come in?” Sage asked. “We need to talk to Dr. Moser.”
The doctor appeared behind her, adjusting his bifocals. “Hello, Sage. Is something wrong?”
“Please let us come in and we’ll explain,” she said.
Mrs. Moser waved them in and offered coffee, but they declined. The doctor gestured toward the living room, and they seated themselves.
Dugan began. “I suppose you heard that Ron Lewis’s body was found by the creek.”
Dr. Moser nodded. “I did hear that. Saw Dr. Longmire yesterday, and he told me that Lewis was shot.”
“Yes, he was,” Dugan said.
Dr. Moser gave Sage a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. I heard they still haven’t found Benji.”
Sage folded her hands and acknowledged his comment with a small nod.
“So what brought you here?” Dr. Moser asked.
Dugan explained about Lewis’s scam. “I have reason to suspect that Wilbur Rankins might not have killed himself.”
Dr. Moser pulled a hand down his chin. “I don’t understand. I’m not the medical examiner.”
“No, but you can answer one question. Sheriff Gandt said that Rankins shot himself because he was ashamed that he’d been duped by Lewis and because he was dying of cancer.”
Dr. Moser looked back and forth between them. “He did have cancer. But you know the HIPAA law prevents me from discussing his medical condition.”
“Dr. Moser,” Dugan said bluntly. “The man is dead. In fact, he may have been murdered. All I need to know is if his condition was terminal or if he was going to get better.”
Indecision warred in the doctor’s eyes for a moment, then he leaned forward in his chair. “I do believe he’d just learned that the chemo was working.”
Sage sucked in a sharp breath. If he’d just received a good prognosis, it didn’t make sense that he’d take his own life.
* * *
DUGAN THANKED THE DOCTOR, Donnell Earnest’s suspicions echoing in his head. Was Earnest right? Had someone murdered Rankins?
Someone who’d partnered with Lewis?
He drove toward the bank, wondering if Bates had any insight. “When Lewis was with you, did he ever mention a partner?”
Sage rubbed her temple. “Not that I remember.”
“How about the name of the developer?”
She closed her eyes as if in thought. “It was something like Woodard or Woodfield. No, Woodsman. I remember thinking that it suited the business.”
“We need to research it.” Dugan parked at the bank, and he and Sage entered together.
“While you talk to Mr. Bates, I’m going to talk to Delores,” Sage said. “She’s the loan officer
here. Maybe she knows something.”
“Good idea.” Dugan strode toward Bates’s office while Sage veered to the right to speak to her friend.
When he knocked, Bates called for him to come in. The man looked slightly surprised to see him but gestured for him to sit down.
“What can I do for you today, Mr. Graystone?” Bates asked.
“Who was this developer working with Lewis?”
Bates tugged at his tie, nervous. “The company name was Woodsman.”
“What about Junior? Does he know this?”
“Yes. Junior is irate. He was furious with his father for signing with Lewis in the first place.”
So Junior might have killed his father...
Or someone from the company could have killed Rankins to keep him from challenging the legitimacy of the deal.
Dugan thanked him and phoned Jaxon as he left the man’s office. He had to find the person behind Woodsman.
* * *
SAGE KNEW DELORES from the bank and church. In fact, Delores had helped her with her loan for the renovations with the inn when she first decided to buy and refurbish it. They had become friendly enough for an occasional lunch and social gathering.
Until Benji disappeared. Then she’d shut down and kept to herself.
Delores waved to her from her desk. “Hey, Sage. How are you?”
“Can we talk in private?” Sage asked.
Delores’s eyebrows shot up, but she gestured toward the door to her office. Jingle bells tinkled on it as Sage closed it. She sank into one of the chairs opposite her friend’s desk, noting a Christmas tin full of cookies and candy canes.
“What’s going on?” Delores asked. “I heard that Dugan Graystone found Ron Lewis’s body.”
Sage knew some of the residents in town weren’t as friendly to the people from the reservation as they should be, an archaic attitude that she had no tolerance for. Dugan seemed to travel between both worlds fairly well. Most of the single women in town were intrigued by his dark, sexy physique and those haunted bedroom eyes.
But the men were standoffish.
Normally she didn’t listen to gossip, but occasionally, a grain of truth could be found beneath the murk. “What are they saying?”
