Rugged Defender

She shook her head. “But he and his brother had been heard arguing earlier in the day. When Justin was questioned his knuckles were skinned and he had a bruise on his forehead. He admitted to having argued with his brother but swears he didn’t beat him up. As for his own injuries, he said they were self-inflicted. He alleged that he’d taken out his temper on a tree out by the pond on the ranch property. When tests were run on his hands, fragments of tree resin were found.”

“So he was telling the truth,” she said. “Did you pass all of this on to his father?”

“I did. But like I said—”

“Bert had his mind made up.” She nodded. “Isn’t it possible that someone fired the shot that would kill Drew, dropped the gun and ran? Drew picked up the gun and fired the shot that was found embedded in the wall by the door?”

“Possible. Justin said he heard the sound of a vehicle engine as he was calling 911. But we found no evidence another person had been in that room let alone shot Drew.”

“You ruled it an accident.” She met the sheriff’s gaze. “It sounds more like a suicide.”

The sheriff bristled. “That’s not what the evidence led me to. I wasn’t alone. The coroner agreed.”

“But you also don’t want this to be a suicide.”

McCall sighed. “No one wants to tell a father that his son killed himself, that’s true. But there was no suicide note. No apparent depression or talk of suicide. People who knew him didn’t believe Drew would have purposely taken his own life. Also there is no evidence that Drew was trying to kill himself,” McCall said. “Alcohol was involved. His wouldn’t be the first accident with a firearm when the user has been drinking.”

Chloe sat forward. “But what if he was trying to defend himself?”

“From whom?”

“That’s what I don’t know, but the shot in the direction of the door bothers me.” She could see that it had bothered the sheriff, as well.

“I believe he was impaired enough that he didn’t have control over the gun,” McCall said.

Drew had been in a fight and he was drunk. She supposed he could have gotten his gun out, thinking whoever had given him the beating might want to finish him off. And in his drunken state shot the wall and then himself as he fumbled with the gun.

“Did you know Drew Calhoun?” the sheriff asked.

She shook her head. “He was older so he was out of high school before I got there. I’ve heard stories about him. I know he and Justin didn’t get along.”

The sheriff nodded. “I’m not sure what you plan to do with this information, but I hope you’re sensitive to the pain a tragedy like this leaves in a community, not to mention how a father is still struggling to deal with his loss.”

Chloe had conflicting emotions when it came to the case. What she knew of Drew assured her that he had no reason to want to kill himself. He had been arrogant, wild and his father’s favorite. He’d been spoiled all his life. Suicide didn’t seem likely. Not that people who have shown no sign of suicidal tendencies previously don’t take their lives in weak moments.

“I lived with a lot of what-ifs in my life, not knowing the truth about my own father,” McCall said.

“But then you found out the truth.”

The sheriff nodded. “Which led to other truths perhaps I hadn’t wanted to know. I found out that whenever you go digging into something like this, it can be dangerous, especially if you go into it believing one thing only to find out you’re wrong. But I can see that your mind is made up.” She got to her feet. “Let me get you the information.”

As Chloe was leaving the sheriff’s office, she almost collided with a man in uniform. He caught her as she stumbled against him. As her gaze rose to his face, she felt a shock. “Kelly?”

“That’s Deputy Locke to you,” he said seriously. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Shocked was more like it. It felt like running headlong into the solid brick wall of her past. All the pain the man had caused her. She’d hated Kelly Locke. For a moment, she couldn’t speak. She’d thought he’d left town and said as much.

“I came back. Seems you did the same thing.”

She stared at him, her throat constricting. Everyone had people in their past who’d helped shape them. If anything, Kelly Locke had made her the cynical woman she’d become. It was what made her dig for stories, looking for the truth. The truth meant more to her than anything. She’d already lived with the lies because of him.

“You like the uniform?” he asked, making her realize she’d been staring.

“I never thought of you like this,” she stammered.

“You thought of me?” He grinned and brushed back a lock of blond hair from his blue eyes. When she didn’t respond, he said, “So what are you doing here?”

She opened her mouth, closed it. “Just stopped in to see the sheriff.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

“No.” She said it a little too quickly.

He raised a brow. “If you don’t want to tell me...”

The shock was starting to wear off. “I’m sure you’re busy with keeping Whitehorse safe from jaywalkers.”

“Funny,” he said as he puffed up, his hand going to the weapon on his hip. “But then again, you always did like the one-liners.”

She looked into his handsome face and thought as she had years ago how unfair it was that Kelly Locke could look so good and yet be such a jackass. But it was worse than that. She knew how cruel the man could be since she’d stupidly dated him at one point. That he was now a deputy and armed made her a little uneasy—especially given the way things had ended between them.

“So how long have you been a deputy?”

He grinned. “Almost six years.”

“That long.” It would mean that he’d been a deputy when Drew Calhoun was killed.

“I’m the strong arm of the law,” he said, his gaze meeting hers and holding it. “Which means you’d best watch yourself.” He lowered his voice and leaned closer so the dispatcher couldn’t hear. She caught a cloying waft of men’s cologne. “I’d hate to have to cuff you and take you for a ride in the back of my patrol car.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” With that, she stepped past him and headed for the exit. She could feel herself trembling, remembering what he’d done to her. She didn’t have to look back to know he was watching her. His gaze burned into her back. The man gave her more than the creeps. He scared her.

Chapter Four (#ud8076414-e6d6-5c39-a9a7-7063c412b4b7)

When Chloe returned to their grandmother’s house, she found Annabelle in the kitchen baking cookies and TJ editing a manuscript at the table.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Kelly Locke is a cop?” Chloe demanded when she walked in and saw her two sisters.

They looked up in surprise. “He isn’t a cop—he’s a sheriff’s deputy,” Annabelle said.

“Same thing! He carries a gun and a badge!” she cried.

“I take it that the uniform doesn’t make your old boyfriend look even better to you? Has he changed?” TJ asked. Not enough, Chloe thought. But then again she’d never told her sisters the extent of Kelly’s malice after they’d broken up.

“It’s his personality that’s the problem.” She shuddered.

“He was always so angry, so close to the edge that I was on pins and needles all the time you were dating,” TJ said. “He’d go off for no reason. He was always looking for a fight. If anyone looked at him cross-eyed—”

“Wow, he really did set you both off,” Annabelle said. “I always thought he was really cute and built too. What did he do this time? Arrest you for throwing snowballs at cars like some of us used to do?”