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Warrior Son

Page 15

by Rita Herron


  Because they already had three children...?

  Megan stared into the dark woods they passed as night set in. Farm and ranch land spread for miles and miles, the hint of wild in the rugged ground and boulders interspersed between lush pastures.

  Birds sailed above treetops, diving for food, and a bobcat darted through the woods.

  Roan pulled down a narrow street just outside of Pistol Whip. It wasn’t a street, but a long driveway that led through the woods to a private estate.

  “Dr. Cumberland lives down here?”

  “Yeah, apparently he’s done well for himself.”

  Dr. Cumberland’s house was a rustic two-story with a wraparound porch complete with planters and a porch swing. It looked so homey and inviting that Megan couldn’t imagine anything sinister inside—especially a small town doctor with deadly secrets.

  Roan parked beneath a giant tree with limbs that resembled arms stretching toward the sky. The door swung open before they could make it to the front porch, and Mrs. Cumberland barreled down the steps toward them.

  She folded her arms under her ample bosoms, her eyes flaring with accusations. “Where is my husband?”

  Megan came to a halt beside Roan.

  “Actually, we came to talk to him,” Roan said evenly.

  The woman huffed. “Well, he’s not home. I talked to him earlier and he was upset, said the two of you are treating him like he’s a suspect in Joe McCullen’s murder.” She shook her finger at them. “You should be ashamed of yourselves. After all my husband’s done for this town and those McCullens. Those boys can’t possibly think he’d hurt their father.”

  “Mrs. Cumberland,” Megan said, “we’re just asking questions to figure out what happened.”

  “Because someone did murder Joe McCullen,” Roan finished. “We also know that your husband had a case that went bad a few years ago. A baby died. A couple threatened to sue him.”

  The color drained from the woman’s face. “That happened years ago,” she said with a confused look.

  “What about the night the McCullen twins died?” Roan asked.

  One hand fluttered to her heart. “They were stillborn, for God’s sake. That wasn’t my husband’s fault.”

  Roan cleared his throat. “Actually, we have reason to believe that your husband faked the babies’ deaths and gave the twins to someone else.”

  “What?” The doctor’s wife threw up her hands. “That’s ridiculous.”

  Compassion for the woman filled Megan. But if their suspicions were true, her husband had destroyed lives.

  “You’re going to be sorry you did this,” Mrs. Cumberland said. “I’m going to talk to Sheriff McCullen. Maddox would never put up with you treating us like this.”

  Roan’s jaw tightened. “I’m just doing my job.”

  “A job you never should have been given,” she said. “Why don’t you go back to the reservation with your own people?”

  Megan’s breath caught. She started to say something, but Roan stopped her with a hard shake of his head.

  “If you hear from your husband, tell him he can either come in on his own, or I’ll pick him up,” Roan said in a dark tone. “Either way, as long as I am the deputy sheriff, he will answer my questions.”

  “Get off my property!” Mrs. Cumberland shouted.

  Emotions welled in Megan’s throat. She knew some folks still harbored prejudices, but she hadn’t expected it from Mrs. Cumberland.

  Then again, the woman was shaken up over the accusations they’d made and was probably lashing out any way she could.

  It still didn’t make it right, though.

  Was she so defensive because her husband was innocent, or because she was trying to cover up for what he’d done?

  * * *

  ROAN’S PHONE DINGED with a text as he drove away from the Cumberlands’ house. He handed it to Megan. “Read that.”

  Megan took his cell phone and skimmed it. “It’s from Dr. Cumberland. He wants to meet us at the morgue. He’s ready to talk.”

  Roan’s heart hammered. “Good. Maybe we’ll finally learn the truth.”

  He pressed the accelerator, veered onto the road leading through town and flipped on his siren. It might not be an emergency, but Megan’s life had already been endangered, and finding whoever had threatened her and shot at them was imperative.

  Already too many people had died.

  Ten minutes later, he swerved into the parking lot and threw the vehicle into Park. Megan was getting out before he could make it around to open the door for her.

  He hurried to walk with her, his gaze scanning the hospital parking lot. Bushes lined the exterior, adding greenery and color, but also provided places for a predator to hide.

  Footsteps sounded behind them, and he jerked his head to the left to search for trouble, but a man and child were walking toward the entrance, carrying a bouquet of pink roses and a white teddy bear, along with a “Congratulations, it’s a girl!” balloon.

  Such a happy occasion in the midst of so much death in the town.

  The man and child were oblivious, though, hugging and laughing as they hurried inside to welcome the newest member of their loving family.

  A pang of longing tugged at Roan, something he’d never felt before. The need for a family.

  For a wife and a child of his own.

  He glanced at Megan, and an image of her holding his baby son taunted him.

  Megan caught his arm as they followed the man and child in, and he wondered if she might be thinking the same.

  She gestured toward the elevator, a reminder they weren’t headed to the nursery where new life was being celebrated, but to the morgue where loved ones met with death, murder and grief.

  They rode the elevator in silence, then walked down the hall toward the morgue. The dreary paint on the walls needed a new coat, preferably something with color. The lights seemed dimmer down here, and the smell was suffocating—a blend of strong antiseptics and cleaner meant to disguise the more acrid odors of what happened between the cement walls inside, but failed.

  This was Megan’s world. She was unlike any woman he’d ever known. Tenderhearted yet strong, determined to find the answers for the families grieving for their lost loved ones.

  A diamond in the rough.

  She swiped her ID card to get inside, then glanced through the window to the autopsy room, but it was empty. The lab was empty as well, indicating the employees had left for the day.

  “He must be in my office.”

  “Dr. Cumberland has a key to your office?”

  She shook her head no. “But if he arrived before Howard left the lab, he would have let him in.”

  Roan nodded, but he didn’t like it. This place was creepy. Set away from the main hospital in the far corner of the basement, Megan and her workers were virtually isolated.

  Which meant they could be walking into a trap.

  Honed for trouble, he pulled his gun and followed her down the short hallway.

  When they reached the door to her office, he caught her arm. The door was closed.

  Fear clouded her eyes as she looked up at him, and he gently coaxed her behind him and turned the knob. The door squeaked open. Roan held his gun at the ready as he stepped into the doorway.

  Darkness bathed the room, but the faint light from the hall illuminated the inside, enough for him to tell that the chair behind Megan’s desk was occupied. All he could make out was a man’s head, though. No movement.

  “Dr. Cumberland?” Megan said softly as she inched into the doorway.

  Silence echoed back.

  Roan detected the metallic scent of blood.

  Dammit.

  Roan held out his hand to stop Megan from entering as he flipped on the light. He knew what he was going to find, but the sight of blood and brain matter splattering the walls still made bile rise to his throat.

  “Oh, God.” Megan’s legs buckled.

  He caught her and pulled her up against him t
o shield her from the grisly sight.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Megan struggled to breathe through the shock. Dr. Cumberland was...dead. In her office.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Roan said.

  Megan dug her nails into his arm. “I know the drill, Roan. What...do you think happened? Do you think...he killed himself?”

  “I don’t know.” He handed her his phone. “Call the crime team and stay in the hall.”

  She found the number in his contacts, keeping her feet rooted to the floor. He didn’t have to tell her twice not to go inside.

  She’d seen a lot of dead bodies, but she knew this man, had spoken with him, had conferred with him.

  Worse, she and Roan had been asking questions. Had they gotten him killed?

  The phone rang three times then a man answered. “Lieutenant Hoberman.”

  “It’s Dr. Lail. Deputy Whitefeather asked me to call. I’m with him now.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “We’re at the morgue, my office. It’s Dr. Cumberland...he’s dead.”

  “Good God.” The lieutenant released a loud sigh. “I’ll get a team and be right over.”

  She thought she thanked him, but she couldn’t be sure. Her eyes were glued to Roan, who’d pulled on latex gloves and was walking around the front of the desk to examine the doctor.

  Megan held her breath, her head spinning from the scent of fresh blood.

  “He was shot?” Megan asked.

  “Yes.” Roan scrutinized the scene. “Shot in the temple, close range, right side.”

  “He was right-handed,” Megan said.

  “He’s holding a .38. I’ll have to follow up and see if he owned the gun.” He stooped and examined the man’s hands, then looked up at her. “Powder burns on his hands indicate he fired the weapon.”

  Megan’s mind spun. “Why would he text you to meet, then kill himself before you arrived?”

  “Good question.” Roan retrieved his phone, then snapped pictures of the office and the doctor’s body position.

  “Do you think someone else was here?”

  Roan shrugged. “It’s a possibility.”

  That would explain why he died before they arrived. Someone knew he was going to finally talk and wanted to shut him up.

  Megan scanned the office. The files she’d stacked on her desk seemed undisturbed, her favorite coffee mug in the same place she’d left it. Her books were in order on the bookshelf, desk lamp in place.

  There were no signs of a struggle.

  Roan made a low sound in his throat as he peered at Megan’s desk, his brows furrowed. “Damn.”

  Perspiration beaded on Megan’s neck. “What?”

  “He left a suicide letter on your computer.”

  Roan read the note aloud.

  “Dear Dr. Lail,

  I know you and the deputy have been asking questions and you’re close to uncovering the truth. My conscience has bothered me for a long time, and it’s time I tell the real story about what happened years ago.

  I made a terrible mistake earlier in my career and should have performed a C-section on a woman. Complications arose because of it and the woman lost the baby. She and her husband blamed me. I tried to settle with them out of court, but the woman couldn’t have more children. Her husband threatened to ruin my career if I didn’t help find them another child.

  I panicked. I didn’t want my career to end. I loved the people in Pistol Whip, and couldn’t live with myself and my mistake. So the night Grace McCullen went into labor, I decided to take her babies and give them to this couple.

  I realize it wasn’t right, but Joe and Grace had three boys already. They had a family, and I thought Grace would eventually get pregnant again.

  But she never recovered from that night. She started asking questions. She said she wouldn’t stop looking until she found her missing boys.

  I honestly thought she’d mixed the antidepressants with alcohol and had an accident, though. But once you raised questions, I started having doubts myself.

  I made some calls, and I think the man I gave the twins to had Grace killed. I also think he poisoned Joe because one day Joe was on a buying trip and came back and told me he’d seen a young man who looked a lot like Maddox. Joe started probing then, wondering if his wife was right. He hired a PI to find the truth.

  The man I gave the twins to was Bart Dunn. He won’t give up the truth easily, but it’s time the McCullen boys knew the real story.

  I can’t live with these secrets and lies any longer. I left my wife a letter explaining everything. She had no idea what happened. Please tell her that I love her, and I’m sorry for keeping secrets. Most of all I’m sorry I betrayed my friends. If I could go back and change things, I would.

  But some mistakes can’t be taken back.

  Also, let Maddox and Brett and Ray know that I really loved their father and them. I never meant to hurt anyone.”

  “My God, he really did it.” Megan’s pained voice echoed across the room. “His poor wife, she’s going to be devastated.”

  “I’m sorry, Megan,” Roan said quietly. “I understand that you considered the doctor a friend.”

  Megan shrugged. “He did have a good side,” she said. “He did a lot for the people here in Pistol Whip.”

  “But he also betrayed one of his best friends, and he hurt Grace McCullen terribly.”

  “I know. I can’t imagine giving birth and losing my child. No wonder Grace slipped into a deep depression.” Megan sighed. “If she suspected foul play, and that the twins were still alive and no one believed her, she must have felt so scared and alone.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT TWO hours passed in a blurry haze for Megan.

  The crime team took photographs, processed her office, made copious notes on the scene and their findings and searched for forensics. They dusted her computer for prints to verify that Dr. Cumberland had typed the note and that it hadn’t been written by another party.

  Under the circumstances, she phoned the chief ME to perform the autopsy.

  Megan’s stomach roiled as they finally moved the doctor’s body from her office and carried him to the morgue.

  “We have to notify Mrs. Cumberland,” Roan said.

  “I can take care of that if you want,” Lieutenant Hoberman offered.

  “That might be best,” Roan agreed. “She wasn’t too happy with us the last time we spoke.”

  Megan felt weary. “She’s going to blame me for her husband’s death.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Roan said matter-of-factly. “Her husband started this a long time ago.”

  “I realize that, but her life will be shattered by the news.”

  “A lot of lives will be,” Roan agreed. “Just look at what his actions did to the McCullens.”

  “They’ll want to find their brothers,” Megan said.

  “Yes, they will.” Roan angled his head toward the lieutenant. “I’m going to track down Bart Dunn. If he or one of his people killed Grace and Joe McCullen, it’s time they paid.”

  Megan followed Roan as they stepped away from her office. She would never be able to work in there again without seeing an image of Dr. Cumberland slumped in her chair with his head blown to pieces.

  “Let me call our tech team and see if I can get a current address for Dunn,” Hoberman said.

  Roan thanked him, then phoned Maddox to relay the news of the doctor’s death.

  Megan stepped inside the autopsy room where Dr. Mantle stood studying the doctor before he began the autopsy.

  “You were friends, weren’t you?” Megan asked.

  The chief ME shrugged, his expression torn. “Yes. He delivered my two girls.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Megan said.

  He stared at her for so long that Megan’s pulse clamored. Did he blame her for the doctor’s death?

  “You were right, Megan. Damn, I didn’t want to think that he’d do anything underhanded.”

 
; Megan offered him a tentative smile. “For the record, I didn’t want to believe it, either.”

  He adjusted his glasses. “Your questions got him killed, though.”

  “That wasn’t my intention.”

  He grimaced. “No, but it was theirs.” His voice dropped a decibel. “Be careful, Megan. I’d hate to have you lying here next.”

  Megan’s heart pounded at his dark tone. Was he concerned about her safety, or was that a threat?

  * * *

  ROAN ENDED THE call with Maddox, his chest tight as Megan reappeared in the hallway. “Maddox is going to call Brett and Ray and fill them in.” A text dinged through, and he checked it.

  “I’ve got the address for Bart Dunn. Let’s go.”

  Megan was pale and quiet, but he didn’t push her. God knows she’d been through enough the past couple of days, then to find a coworker with his head blown off in her own office? It was enough to shake anyone.

  “Where does he live?”

  “A ranch about fifty miles from here.”

  “Are you going to call ahead and see if he’s there?”

  “No, I want the element of surprise on my side. If he kept those babies, well, they’d be adults now. I don’t want to spook them.”

  Night had definitely set in, the wind howling as they left Pistol Whip. The rain had slackened, but dark clouds still shrouded the moonlight, making it seem later than it was.

  His tires churned over the road leading toward the Dunns’ ranch, the wilderness becoming more vast and reminded Roan of his life on the res. Megan laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

  For a second, he thought she might fall asleep, but she kept twitching, obviously agitated. Traffic was minimal, the area growing more desolate as he approached the ranch.

  The sign for the ranch hung askew and was so faded that Roan couldn’t read it. He turned down the long drive, noting overgrown pastures and fields, and a barn that looked as if it was rotting. No animals were in sight, and the white clapboard house was dingy, shutters in need of repair.

  “It looks like Dunn hasn’t kept up his land,” Megan said.

  A rusty truck sat in front of the house, a beagle lying on the porch. Roan parked and they walked up to the house together. He kept one hand on his gun, alert and ready in case they were walking into an ambush.

 

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