Hearts Aflame Collection IV: 4-Book Bundle

by Melissa F. Hart

  Wilson pretended to get stern with her. “I refuse to accept conditions from any of my deputies. Now hand over the damn donuts before we have to put you in cuffs.”

  Jade danced away with the box. “I’m not going to surrender the donuts until you agree to my conditions.”

  Dougie spread his arms and made the others step back. “We don’t want to spook her—she might do something rash. I’m the one who went to Cheyenne for special hostage negotiation training.” He turned back and with the calmest possible voice said, “Jade, if you don’t hand over the damn donuts, I will take them by force.”

  “No, you won’t!” Jade hooted, as she ran behind the copy machine, lifting the lid and threatening to squash the entire box of pastry.

  Rosie rolled her eyes as she went to her desk and flipped through her scheduling book. “Why look! Tim just agreed to trade his Thursday night shift for Jade’s on Friday night.” The dispatcher winked knowingly. “You got a lemon crème filled in there?”

  “But of course!” Jade extended the box to Rosie and stuck her tongue out at the others, before placing the box next to the coffeemaker. Fifteen minutes later, the artery-clogging orgy was over.

  “So what’s so important you had to use Mr. Pink’s Donuts as leverage to get off Friday night?” Dougie asked, licking powdered sugar off of his stubby fingers.

  “None of your business,” Jade said sweetly, pecking at her computer. “Don’t you have a report to write or something?”

  “Yeah, one-car accident last night on County Road 19. Some teenagers hit Mrs. Dean’s mailbox, but that smart old biddy had someone sink the post in sixty pounds of concrete.”

  “No one was hurt, were they?” Jade wondered if she should confess the truth about the mailbox to Dougie.

  “Nah, the airbags went off, but Ricky Black is in deep crap with his dad, George, for taking their Lexus SUV without permission.”

  Jade nodded to indicate that parental wrath was probably a worse punishment than a trip to the hospital. “It’s been an exceptionally quiet week in Broken Wheel.”

  Dougie looked pointedly at Jade. “Now you’ve jinxed us.”

  As if to fulfill Dougie’s prediction, a few minutes later, the phone rang. They both watched Rosie’s face as the dispatcher’s expression slowly morphed from her usual pleasant neutrality to clear distress. Her hand was shaking as she hung up the phone. “That was Duke Jr. at the Bar Double Star,” she said, as if she was on autopilot. “There’s another dead wolf, and—and…” Rosie’s throat caught as a sob tried to force its way up, “Duke Minton’s dead.”

  Jade sucked in a breath. Duke’s wife, Evelyn, was Rosie’s best friend, and Rosie had been planning a fortieth wedding anniversary party for the couple.

  Wilson shuffled out of his office, his hands in his pockets, as the playful atmosphere in the department deflated like a forgotten balloon. “Douglas, you and Jade get out there straightaway and see what’s going on. Take Rosie so she can be with Evelyn. Tim, you cover dispatch. I’ll deal with anything else that comes up, but call as soon as you have a handle on the situation. Let’s not jump to any conclusions.”

  The last murder in Broken Wheel had been in 1992 when a gambling debt had gotten out of hand. Broken Wheel had its share of dumbass crime, but not much in the category of murder and mayhem.

  Everyone nodded robotically as the departing trio went for their coats. It was bad enough to have to officially sign off when an elderly person died at home, but this was a healthy, happy, sixty-two year old man, a Sunday school teacher from a well-loved family in the community. This was the kind of call the department truly dreaded.

  Dougie, Jade and Rosie said little on the drive out to the Bar Double Star Ranch. Rosie periodically dabbed at the corners of her eyes with a tissue, and Jade stared out the passenger window at the snowy landscape. Off in the distance, she could see a few elk on the move, their shaggy winter coats making them look like ragged stuffed animals on a white quilt dotted with green cones. She thought about the dead wolf at the Minton’s ranch and wondered if animals mourned the departed the way that humans did. Then she thought of Conall, who had transformed from man to animal in front of her eyes and wondered if all animals, or maybe just all wolves, hid such secrets. Then she made the connection between the Irishman and the dead wolf, and for a moment it seemed her heart had stopped beating. If the dead wolf was a huge one with amber eyes, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold herself together.

  She recognized Harlan Winter’s truck in front of the Minton’s house. As the Minton’s nearest neighbors, it would make sense that Duke Jr. would reach out to Harlan and his dad Carson. And Nicolette’s sensible sedan was there; it also made sense that Harlan would reach out to his fiancée to make sure the news got to the community in a way that respected the family’s wishes. As editor of the Broken Wheel Gazette, Nicolette would keep a lid on any sensationalism and do her best to protect the family from out-of-town tabloid vultures.

  Dougie gave Rosie a hand down from the rear seat of his departmental SUV; Jade envied the comfort and reliability of his eighteen-month-old vehicle. Her Bronco was next in line to be replaced as budget allowed, but it wasn’t looking like it was going to be happening any time soon. She mentally kicked herself; it wasn’t exactly the time to be pondering rides.

  As they stepped into the warmth of the Minton’s kitchen, Jade quickly understood that Harlan and Carson were trying to sooth an outraged Duke Jr. Nicolette and Duke Jr.’s wife, Lori, were in the living room, trying to console Evelyn.

  Rosie sighed and tried to stand a little straighter. “I’ll look in on Evelyn.”

  The group of men turned at the sound of voices, and Harlan looked relieved to see Jade and Dougie. Dougie shook Duke Jr.’s hand, and Jade quietly offered condolences by saying the official words, “We’re very sorry for your loss,” but with the emotion of someone who truly meant it. Duke Jr. acknowledged Jade with a little sideways hug, as he wiped at the corner of his eye with the back of his other hand. Then, everyone tried to deal with the situation at hand as professionally and unemotionally as they could.

  Dougie got out his notepad. “Just tell us what happened.”

  “Dad and I were up on the back forty, getting ready to replace some fencing. Mom and Lori were still at school.”

  Dougie nodded encouragingly; Evelyn taught third grade, and Lori taught chemistry at the high school.

  Duke Jr. sucked in a breath. “So we got up there, and I realized I’d left the wire cutters and the crimping shears in the barn. Dad told me he’d take some measurements while I went to get them, so after we unloaded stuff, I jumped back in the truck and left him up there.” He paused as an agonizing realization crept over his face. “You know, if I hadn’t left him alone, maybe he’d still be alive.”

  Jade rubbed his shoulder reassuringly. “We can’t know the future; you’re not responsible. So what happened when you got back up there?”

  “On the way back up, I—I heard a couple of gunshots, but I couldn’t see anything because there was a stand of trees blocking my view. So I started driving as fast as I could, but you know, there’s no road or even tracks up there. Anyway, there was a dead wolf, and my dad—my dad…” he gulped as his voice dropped to a whisper, “my dad was dead.”

  “Dead how?” Dougie asked.

  Gesturing toward his own neck, the anger started to creep back into Duke Jr.’s voice. “His throat was ripped out. The damn wolf ripped his throat out.” He thought for a moment, before continuing indignantly, “Or wolves, there’s a whole damn pack on the BLM land.”

  “So your father fired the shots?” Jade tried to redirect his thinking.

  “It must have been Dad. I mean—he was all alone up there.”

  “How long were you gone?” Dougie followed up.

  “I don’t know, not long, twenty, twenty-five minutes at most.”

  Dougie flipped his notebook shut. “Do you think you can go back up there with us?”

  Carso
n nodded affirmatively. “I’ll go.”

  Jade put a hand on Carson’s arm. “Not you, Carson, Duke Jr. We have to ask you and Harlan to stay here.”

  Carson didn’t enjoy being sidelined, but the older man understood the deputies didn’t need a bunch of amateurs tramping around on the scene. “Oh, yeah, of course. No problem.” He hooked his thumbs on the back pockets of his jeans. “We’ll make some coffee for the ladies in the other room, look after them.”

  “Thanks, Carson, I appreciate that.” Duke Jr. patted Carson’s back before turning and nodding to Dougie and Jade to affirm his fitness for the mission at hand, and the three headed out.

  Dougie parked a little distance from where both Duke Sr. and the wolf were lying, wanting to approach on foot so that they didn’t contaminate any evidence.

  Jade turned to Duke Jr. “You just stay here with the truck for now, keep warm. We’ll call you when we need you.”

  Duke Jr. looked toward his father’s still form. “I put that horse blanket on him. It was in the truck, I—I couldn’t just leave him lying there like that.”

  “Sure, we understand.” Jade wished he hadn’t contaminated things with extra fibers and hairs, but if a wolf had killed Duke Sr., it wasn’t like they would need to prosecute him in court.

  The few inches of snow that covered the ground made the spill of blood leaking from under the horse blanket appear all the more gruesome. Dougie turned to Jade. “Check out the wolf…I’ll get the first look at Duke.”

  It was kind of Dougie to spare her the initial shock, she thought. Once he uncovered Duke’s body, she could desensitize from a short distance. She had seen a number of dead bodies in her time in the sheriff’s department, but most were people who died at home from natural causes. She’d been on the scene at a couple of bad car wrecks, and once she had found a drunk frozen to death at the edge of town, but this felt different: more intimate, and more personal. As she walked toward the wolf, though, her earlier fears for Conall started to rise up again.

  The wolf had definitely been shot with something big and powerful; part of its skull was blown away. To her relief, it was a much smaller wolf than the one she associated with Conall, but its blank, staring eyes were the same unusual amber color. The wolf wasn’t heavy enough to leave much in the way of footprints on the crusty, frozen snow, but from the direction it was facing, it seemed to Jade that the shot had come from the other side of the fence, the side that backed up to BLM land. She took out her smartphone and began to snap pictures.

  “Does Duke have a gun on him?” Jade called over to Dougie.

  “Not that I can see.” Dougie pushed back the wide brim of his wool felt campaign hat and scratched at his head thoughtfully.

  “Then who shot this wolf?” Jade stood up and made her way over to where Dougie was squatting. She sucked in a breath when she got close enough to get a good look at Duke’s body. “Oh geez.”

  “Sure looks to me like something tore his throat out.” Dougie pointed to the gaping wound. “But something about that doesn’t seem canine to me. It looks too neat.”

  Jade peered at Duke’s neck; it was hard to tell much with all the blood—which was quickly freezing—but there wasn’t the kind of tearing you’d expect from an animal attack. “Yeah, I see what you mean, the edges of the wound look too clean to have been made by teeth.”

  “And there aren’t any other bites on his face or arms. Get plenty of snaps. I’ll call the coroner and get him out here. There needs to be an autopsy at any rate. And then we need Duke Jr. to go through everything one more time.”

  “You want me to call Wilson?” Jade asked.

  “Yeah, it’s not open and shut. There’s something about this that doesn’t quite add up.”

  After making their respective calls, Duke Jr. held it together for long enough to walk them through his story again. He seemed consistent, and as the father and son were known for being close, they had no reason to suspect that Duke Jr. had done anything nefarious. Plus, Jade thought, no one could fake either the numbness or strong emotion that Duke Jr. alternately displayed.

  Dougie turned to Jade. “Why don’t you run Duke back to the house and when the coroner gets there you can lead him back up here?”

  “It’s okay, Dougie, I’ll stay up here. I’ve got my long johns on, and I want to have a look around before it gets darker. The coroner will probably be waiting down at the house; it won’t be that long.”

  “Suit yourself.” Dougie settled his hat back on his head, and with his round face, short beard, and good-natured attitude, Jade couldn’t help but feel like she was working the investigation with Smoky the Bear.

  Duke Jr. took one last look toward his father as anger began to seep back through the numbness. “It’s that damn Irishman. We never had a wolf problem around here until he showed up. For all we know, he’s trapping wolves and bringing them into the area.”

  “Com’on, let’s get you back to your people.” Dougie steered Duke Jr. toward the SUV, and they slowly drove off.

  Jade flinched at the reference to Conall; she couldn’t believe that Duke’s death was somehow his fault. But Duke Jr. had made an astute observation about timing: the hubbub with the wolves started about the same time people first started seeing Conall around. Shaking off the queasy feeling rolling through her, Jade paced between the two bodies, trying to make sense of what might have happened. Then it hit her. They needed to autopsy the wolf too. If it attacked Duke, Duke’s DNA would be in its mouth, and maybe its gut.

  “Jade.”

  Whirling to face the direction from which the soft Irish lilt had come, Jade didn’t know whether to be ecstatic over Conall’s appearance or furious that it had taken him more than a month to show up.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” Jade tried to mask her hurt as she waved a mittened hand in the direction of the wolf carcass. “This one of yours?”

  “Aye, one of mine.” Conall’s voice sliced through her like a knife. Then Jade realized the pain in his voice as it softened and he repeated himself in a crooning murmur. “Aye. She’s mine.”

  Jade let her demeanor relax, while trying not to run and wrap herself around him. “She?” Jade said awkwardly.

  Conall said nothing else, and he headed toward the limp body with his graceful, flowing strides. Why did he have to look so damn sexy? She was convinced no one on earth could possibly look as amazing wearing a wax jacket and Dubarry boots. Suddenly she realized that he was going to move the wolf’s body.

  “You can’t touch her!” Jade blurted.

  Conall did not look happy as he stopped and turned to face her. “What do you mean? She’s mine.”

  Trying to sound professional and sensitive at the same time, she said carefully, “We have to autopsy her, Conall. This might be a crime scene.”

  “Cut her up? No, I won’t stand for it.” He started back toward the wolf.

  “Please, Conall, it’s my job. I can’t allow you to take her.” She gestured toward Duke’s corpse. “His son has to allow us to do the same to him.”

  “She didn’t attack him.”

  “I know. But this is how we prove her innocence. I’ll make sure she’s treated with respect.”

  The anguish in his face was plain to see; Conall’s reactions were not so different than Duke Jr.’s. “She’s—she’s my daughter.”

  Jade blinked, trying to process what Conall had just said. She had somehow managed to accept his remarkable transformation the night they rescued Nicolette from the old mine, but a daughter who was plainly an animal, well, it was a bit much to take in.

  “Look, the coroner is going to be up here in just a few minutes, and I don’t think anybody needs to see you sniffing around. Duke Jr. already thinks you’re somehow to blame for his father’s death. Just…come to my house tonight and explain everything to me.”

  Conall scuffed a boot toe in the snow. “You’ll make sure they treat her respectfully?”

  “Yes, of course. I’ll stay with her w
hile they do it.”

  “Alright then.”

  “Please, get out of here. I don’t want anyone trying to turn you into a suspect.”

  Conall studied Jade’s face for a moment. “How do ye know that I’m not responsible for the man’s death?”

  “I know.” Jade corrected herself, “I know…you.”

  Suddenly Conall surged toward Jade, taking her head in his strong hands. His sensuous mouth enveloped hers in an emotion-filled kiss. Everything she had felt the night they made love spilled back over her. Even through their heavy winter clothing, Jade could sense Conall growing hard as he pulled her body tight to his. A delicious ripple of pleasure fluttered between her legs. More than that, though, there was an electric charge, a connection between them that went far beyond sex, but an instant later, he had melted into the trees and was gone.

  ***

  “So what—what should I put in the obituary for the Gazette?” Nicolette quietly asked Jade when she got back to the Minton’s house.

  “Between you and me, and Dougie, there’s something about what happened up there that doesn’t make sense. We don’t think the wolf killed him, and I’d rather you didn’t get everyone in town all worked up over the wolf problem again by even mentioning it. I know Duke Jr. thinks otherwise, and after one trip to the Brown Buffalo Café, everyone in town will be gossiping about it anyway, but it’s your job to report facts, right?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  Jade sighed. “So until we have the coroner’s report, we can’t say one way or another. Can’t you just say that he died while working on his property and the coroner has yet to determine cause of death?”

  Nicolette nodded. “There’s plenty to write about his life in the community, so we’ll skim over the actual death for now.”

  Jade squeezed Nicolette’s hand. “Thanks. It’ll give us a little more time to sort things out. I’d rather a mob of townspeople with pitchforks and torches didn’t show up at Conall’s cabin.”