by CP Smith
Logan studied the man and caught him glancing at the two younger men in the truck. He would talk, Logan thought. He was just keeping up appearances, so Logan leaned on the door and directed his next question to the two men beside Macey. “You ever seen Chance Bear with a hunting knife?”
The one farthest from Logan nodded his head before he thought better of it then shook it quickly.
“Yeah, me too,” Logan agreed, then tapped the roof of the truck twice and walked away. Bear might have an alibi for tonight, but he would bet his last dollar there were holes in it. Logan had puzzle pieces that needed to fit together. Duke was one. Rip was one. And Frank, to his way of thinking. How did Johnson fit together with the other three? If Loverboy were here he’d have mapped it out on a sheet of paper until all the pieces fit together. Logan decided it was time to channel Loverboy. For the first time since his brother’s death, the thought of him made Logan smile.
“Talk to me, Goose,” Logan mumbled, quoting a line from the movie Top Gun.
_______________
I sat quietly and watched Logan from our living room. He was currently at our dining room table with his head bent working on an accident report. But every now and then he would grab a sheet of paper and write something on it. He seemed lost in his head. Like he was picking over a problem that needed to be solved. Sipping coffee as my brothers watched Sunday Night Football, I noticed Logan kept glancing over at Josh. And Josh was doing the same, clearly intrigued with what Logan was doing. There’d been a comradery with the two ever since Logan took Josh to school, but something was different now. Almost as if Logan saw something in Josh that I couldn’t. And respected it.
Neither of my brothers were overly affected by the sight of the dead ranch hand. They came back intense, but not upset. After losing our father two years ago, I suspected death didn’t hold as much mystery for them as it did for most kids their age. They’d learned early that life was fleeting.
Logan raised his eyes to the room and looked at Josh again as if sensing my brother was watching him. He studied Josh for a long moment then jerked his head to the chair next to him. Josh got up without question and headed to the table, sitting next to Logan. They immediately lowered their heads as Logan spoke in soft tones for almost five minutes. Josh sat patiently and listened, but I caught him jerk slightly at something Logan said, then he grabbed the sheet of paper Logan had been using and started writing. It looked like he drew something and showed it to Logan. Logan nodded several times then made some notes and pushed it toward Josh, who sat back and took a deep breath. When Josh looked over his shoulder at me with concern, my stomach dropped. What was happening that Logan would tell a fifteen-year-old instead of me?
Josh turned his eyes from me to Jake and mumbled low for Jake to come to the table. I stood then, not about to be left out of the conversation, but Josh shook his head at me. I blinked at the wordless order to stay back. Josh, who had been aloof and withdrawn for years, driving me crazy with worry, was suddenly taking charge? I looked over at Logan and he shook his head as well. I was being ganged up on by them both. Jake took a chair next to Josh and glanced between them. He must have read the mood at the table because he turned and jerked his head toward our bedrooms in another silent order to give them privacy.
“Do you honestly think I’m gonna leave the room so you three can have a meeting without me?” I said this in my best mom voice that usually garnered at least a guilty look, if not cooperation from one of my brothers, but they both stared blankly at me without a hint of guilt. It hit me then they were protecting me from something. They may have been my younger brothers, but both had always protected me in their own way. They were just like our father. He protected and took care of what was his, and anyone else who needed help. Just like Logan was doing. But I wasn’t some helpless female. I’d managed to keep my head above water for two years. And now with Logan in my life I felt even stronger than before, so I doubled down and walked to the table and sat. “I’m not some damaged female who needs to be handled with care. If I can keep you two on the straight and narrow, I can handle anything.”
Logan studied me for a moment, gauging my mental health no doubt, since he’d been there when I had my panic attacks. He nodded finally and looked between Jake and me, announcing without prelude, “I have a suspect in Duke’s death, but no proof. Only conjecture at this point. But if I’m right, this person may have also killed Rip, Frank . . . and Justice Bear.”
Who he meant hit Jake and me like a lightning bolt at the same time. We both blurted out, “You think it’s Chance?”
Josh pushed the sheet of paper he’d been drawing on to the middle of the table. He’d made a timeline of the deaths, along with a list of names with arrows and lines intersecting back to one person. Everyone who had died recently could be traced back to Chance.
I pulled the paper toward me with a shaking hand. “You have to be wrong.”
They couldn’t be right. Chance, for better or worse, was still our brother. We had the same blood running through our veins. Our mother had been kind. Gentle. I still remembered her crying on the front porch, looking up at the Bear Claw, missing her son. She wouldn’t harm a hair on anyone’s head, so how could her son be a killer?
“It follows Occam’s Razor,” Josh stated with a thickness to his voice. “When all other explanation has been ruled out—” he pointed to his timeline “—the simplest explanation . . .”
It was right there in black and white, but I refused to believe it. I shoved the paper at him and stood. “He’s our brother, and you’re only fifteen. What do you know about anything?”
Josh glanced at Jake. “He’s not our brother.”
“He is,” I retorted. “Momma told me all about him. She said he was gentle and well-mannered. That he clung to her like a monkey, never wanting her to put him down. She loved him just like she loved us. Her blood runs through his veins just like it does ours, so he’s our brother.”
“Baby . . .” I turned at Logan’s soft-spoken tone and noticed he had also stood and was looking down at my hand that was currently stroking Max as if my life depended on it. I hadn’t even noticed. Max always seemed to appear at my side when I needed him most.
“You’re wrong, Logan. My mother was the kindest woman I’ve ever met. She couldn’t have given birth to a killer.”
He lifted his eyes to mine and took a step toward me. “It’s just conjecture. Nothing is certain. I told you before I was the muscle not the analyst that Loverboy was.”
It was said too gently. Too appeasing. Too “say whatever she needs to hear so she’ll calm down.” I took a step back from him. “Don’t lie to me. I’m not fragile.”
“I don’t think you’re fragile, not for a minute, baby. You’re one of the strongest women I’ve met in my life. You kept your family together against all odds. Nothing about that is weak, but everyone has their limit, and it can cause you to turn a blind eye to protect yourself.”
“And you think I’m at my limit? That defending my brother is denial?”
Was I in denial?
“It makes sense, Skye,” Jake stated, looking at Josh’s graph. “Josh is gifted. We knew that when he was five. He sees things others don’t. Sees the world differently from the rest of us. If there’s a pattern to something, he’ll find it.”
“Jake’s right. He’s a natural code breaker,” Logan agreed. “He can take pieces and group them together until they make sense. Justice was the missing link I couldn’t see. We all assumed he died of natural causes because everyone was expecting him to die sooner rather than later. Josh saw past that fact and linked all the others until it made sense. Think about it. The killing started the day Justice died. But it wasn’t Frank who died first, it was Justice.”
I turned and slumped into my chair. “So you’re saying what? You think he killed Frank and Duke because they figured out he killed his father? Is that what you’re saying happened?”
Logan kneeled down next to me and took my hand. “That’s where the
investigation is taking me.”
“And Old Rip?”
“If we’re correct, he probably saw something he shouldn’t.”
I closed my eyes. For the first time since my mother died, I prayed she wasn’t watching over all of us. It would destroy her peace, if what they were saying were true.
“Are you thinking the man who died today is also tied to this?”
Logan’s expression softened and he nodded. “I need more evidence, though. Nothing I suspect will hold up in a court of law.”
I opened my mouth to argue again, but I didn’t have it in me. The three people I trusted most in this world were in agreement, and I knew I was too emotional to argue with them. I was suddenly very tired and couldn’t think of anything except crawling under the covers of my bed. My eyes stung with unshed tears I’d been holding at bay, determined to prove to all three of the men in my life that I was stronger than they believed. I would fail to prove my point if I didn’t get the heck out of there, so I stood and pushed in my chair as Logan rose from his crouch. Then I woodenly said goodnight and headed down the hall to my room, while three sets of eyes burned into my back. Once inside, I fell onto the bed and buried my face in my pillow, screaming into it as tears flowed. If Logan was right, my brother killed at least two men who never hurt anyone. Men I loved and respected. The guilt would be crushing if it were true, but worse, there was no way we could stay in Ennis if Chance were guilty. The town would never forgive us.
Twenty-Two
Max the wonder Dog
AFTER GIVING SKYLAR time to compose herself, Logan slipped inside her bedroom and his heart ached at what he saw. She was lying on her back clutching a framed photo of her mother, tears still evident on her cheeks. She’d fallen asleep, but the crease between her brows told him it wasn’t peaceful.
He knew she would be upset by the news Chance might be a killer, but he’d underestimated her reaction. It was clear that even though her half brother wasn’t in their lives, she still considered him family. Not growing up with one of his own, Logan was a stranger to the complexities that existed within a family unit. He’d wrongly assumed that Chance being indifferent to his siblings meant they felt the same toward him, but he’d been wrong. Her brothers seemed to be holding up better than Skylar, but he’d detected a mood at the table between the two that felt a lot like loss.
He’d heard more than once that being family meant having your back, but other than his brothers in arms, he’d never seen it up close. There may have been animosity between them, but it was clear Chance was still a part of theirs in the deep recesses of their hearts. And Logan had just stuck a knife in that heart, bleeding all three of them. Coop had been the philosopher and poet in his unit. If he’d still been alive, Logan would have called him for advice on how to proceed before dropping this particular bomb on the James siblings.
His breath caught on that thought. If Coop had still been alive, so would Buster and Loverboy. And Logan wouldn’t be in Ennis, Montana, falling in love with Skylar. He’d still be running ops for his government. Protecting officials or rescuing prisoners on the order of the President.
A different kind of pain clutched at his chest. He couldn’t turn back the hands of time, but for the first time since their deaths, Logan wasn’t sure he would if it meant having to walk away from what he’d found in Montana. The realization Skylar had become more important to him than the men who had always had his back was staggering.
Logan expelled a breath then drew in more air until the tightness in his chest receded. Skylar had stirred restlessly while he regained his composure, so he stripped the clothes from his body and crawled into the bed beside her, pulling the picture from her hands and drawing her tightly into his body. Her arm automatically draped across his stomach in response as she snuggled her head into the crook of his neck and fell back asleep. Without even knowing what she was doing, she soothed his tattered soul. Gave him what he’d wanted most in life: acceptance and love. Fourteen years in foster care and ten years in the military, but in less than a week she’d erased most of the pain he’d felt in his twenty-eight years. If Skylar wasn’t the absolute definition of receiving a miracle, he didn’t know what was.
Logan brushed a kiss softly across her forehead as her breathing evened out, whispering, “Thank you,” into the night. He’d caused her pain, but she’d still offered him her love without hesitation. And in return, he’d make sure no harm ever came to Skylar and her brothers again.
_______________
A dull ache throbbed behind my eyes when I finally opened them. It took a moment to remember what day it was, then I sat straight up and looked at my watch. It was after seven in the morning on Monday. I’d overslept and now my brothers were late for school. I rolled to climb out of bed and found a note on my bedside table. It was from Logan. He’d gotten up and taken my brothers to school but had left Max with me for protection. He ordered me to keep Max close at all times—along with a 9mm handgun resting on top of the note. I was to call him the moment I left the house and the second I reached the bar. If I saw Chance, I was to avoid him at all cost and call Logan immediately. I glanced at the weapon and shook my head. This was Montana. I had three handguns and four rifles in my gun case.
His reason for being overprotective unsettled me instantly. He was worried if he was right about Chance, he might come after me and my brothers. Dread settled in my gut. As much as I hated Chance for trying to take our home from us, he was still my brother. It would kill me a little if Logan was right. The thought that someone who shared the same blood as me could take a life turned my stomach. And the implications if it were true would be far-reaching too. Who would come to the bar once they found out Chance killed Duke? If we had to move, would it hurt Jake’s chances at a football scholarship? Would it affect the progress Josh had made under Logan’s supervision? And what about Logan? He’d been traveling for months looking for peace. He wasn’t the type of man who would stand for anyone attacking my brothers or me for Chance’s sin. So much was riding on Chance’s guilt or innocence. Just thinking about it was overwhelming and my heart began to trip a beat, which meant I needed to focus on something else. There was no need to borrow trouble before I had to, so getting to the bar for the morning deliveries was the first order of business.
_______________
Ty was waiting for Logan when he pulled in front of the courthouse with two coffees. Logan had planned on calling him when he got to Duke’s office, so he’d saved Logan the trouble of hunting him down. He needed to pick Ty’s brain about his suspicions before he reported to the mayor. Logan knew the town didn’t like Chance Bear, but not liking him and having him arrested for murder were two different things. If Duke’s warning about Bear lining the pockets of area law enforcement and judges were true, then it was likely that no matter how much evidence he gathered, Chance wouldn’t see jail time for his crimes. Short of being caught in the act of murder, he was certain Chance would be acquitted of all charges. And that stuck in his craw.
“Peace offering,” Ty stated when Logan folded out of his truck. “I’ll let her blubber without interference in the future.”
Logan reached out for what looked like truck stop coffee and took a sip. It tasted like swill. “You’re making peace by poisoning me with shit coffee?”
“Never said it was good coffee.”
“I’m not sure it’s coffee. It’s closer to motor oil.”
Ty grinned. “Never said it was good motor oil.”
Logan eyed the nearest trash can and dropped the Styrofoam cup in the receptacle. “We need to talk,” Logan said, heading for the courthouse door.
Ty dropped his coffee in the trash and followed Logan up the flight of stairs until they reached Duke’s office. It was just past eight, but he noted the mayor kept banker’s hours, so he had time to lay out what he and Josh came up with the night before.
When he sat in his chair, the bottle of whiskey Duke had left in the open was still sitting on the desk. Logan pi
cked it up and studied the label, sniffing the open top. “Johnnie Walker XR. This shit is a hundred and sixty a bottle.”
Ty whistled low. “Duke had good taste.”
The bottle was more than half full, so Logan dug around the desk for the cap and screwed it on tight. He’d take it to the bar later. He doubted there were many top-shelf whiskey drinkers in Ennis, but he knew Skylar would want to keep it in memory of Duke.
After setting the bottle aside, he turned his attention to Ty. “If I told you I believe Chance Bear killed Duke, Frank, Rip Jackson, and his father, would you be surprised?”
It took Ty all of a second to think it over. “I think that man is capable of anything.”
Logan dropped his head back on his shoulders and muttered, “Fuck. I was afraid you’d say that.”
“What makes you suspect him?”
Logan tipped his head back, leaned both elbows on the desk, and got down to the brass tacks. When he was done, Ty whistled again. “You think he killed Duke and put him in the cremator with his father?”
“I’ve left three messages with the man to call me back about his father’s remains. He’s avoiding me, so we’ll have to wait and see if they can extract any DNA from the few bones we found.”
“Wouldn’t there be more than a few bones if he burned two bodies?”
“Not if he thought he got them all.”
“So you’re guessing he burned the bodies to get rid of evidence then pulled out the bones, and what? Buried them somewhere?”
Logan nodded. “From everything I’ve heard about Frank, he was meticulous. I can’t see him leaving a single bone in the cremator, let alone a dozen. And one of them still had burnt flesh on it as if the process hadn’t been fully completed. Rushed for time.”
“If Rip and Butch Johnson saw him burying the bones, that would explain why he went after them.”
“It all fits,” Logan agreed. “But proving it and getting it to stick is a different matter.”
“What about Skylar and the boys? Are they in danger?”
