The Bodyguard's Return

It was obvious in a glance that the old man was dead. Joshua was smart enough to know not to disturb anything, although it looked like an open-and-shut case of suicide.

He needed to do something. He needed to call Sheriff Ramsey. Grief threatened to overwhelm the denial, but he shoved it back, knowing there were things that needed to be done.

What had happened here? How on earth had this happened? Dammit, what had made Charlie do such a thing? What had happened to make the man take his own life? Of all the men Joshua had known, he would have thought Charlie the last one who would do something like this.

It was only when he stepped back out of the house that he remembered the woman. She was crouched down next to her car, a hand on Jessie’s furry back. As he walked down the steps to the path, she stood, a wary suspicion on her features.

“I called the sheriff,” she said, obviously recovering her gift of speech. “He should be here any minute now. Don’t come any closer.” She held up a can of pepper spray.

Joshua stopped in his tracks. She would have looked quite menacing if the hand holding the spray can weren’t shaking so badly.

Some of her color had returned to her face and the freckles now looked as if they belonged on her skin. It was obvious she didn’t belong here, didn’t belong in Cotter Creek.

She had the sheen of the big city on her, from the toe of her polished boots to the top of her short, curly gelled hair. She represented everything he’d left behind in New York City.

Her hair suited her small, delicate features. She wasn’t beautiful, but she was striking. More importantly, there was no blood on her pink sweater or gray cropped slacks. No splatters on the tops of her polished boots.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” he asked. What had happened in Charlie’s house before he’d arrived, and what did she have to do with the old man’s death?

“I could ask you the same,” she replied, eyes narrowed and finger poised above the sprayer on the can.

“I’m Joshua West and I was just on my way home and decided to stop and say hello to Charlie.”

Relief filled her amber-colored eyes and she lowered the can. “I heard they were expecting you either today or tomorrow.”

“You didn’t answer my questions. Who are you and what in the hell is going on here?” Anger swept through him, much more agreeable than the grief that clawed at his insides as he thought of Charlie.

The relief that had shone from her eyes was shortlived. A frown tugged her thin eyebrows closer together. “My name is Savannah Clarion and I don’t know what the hell is going on. I got here about two minutes before you did, just long enough to go inside and find…” She bit her bottom lip as tears welled up.

The anger that had momentarily reared to life dissipated. “Why are you here? Charlie isn’t…wasn’t exactly the type who liked to entertain guests.” And he couldn’t imagine that a young woman like her would have an interest in visiting with the old man.

“I was going to interview him. I write a column for the Cotter Creek Chronicle called ‘People and Personalities.’” Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “Why would he do something like this? I can’t believe it.”

Joshua raked a hand through his thick, dark hair and frowned. “I just spoke with him two days ago. He seemed fine, his usual self.” Judd nuzzled Joshua’s hand, seeking a reassuring pat on the head.

“What’s going to happen to Judd and Jessie?” Savannah asked. “Who’s going to take care of them?”

“I’ll take them with me. They’ll be well taken care of at Dad’s.”

“I don’t understand this.” She wrapped her arms around herself, as if chilled to the bone. “Seems like a drastic way to get out of an interview.” She gulped in a deep breath.

He wondered if she was about to get hysterical on him. The last thing he wanted was a hysterical woman on his hands. He shoved his hands in his slacks pockets as he heard the wail of a siren in the distance.

The joyous homecoming he’d expected had transformed into something horrible, and he knew the full realization that Charlie was dead hadn’t even struck him yet. What he couldn’t yet comprehend was the fact that Charlie hadn’t died in his sleep or suffered a heart attack, but, instead, from all indications Charlie had eaten the business end of his gun.

He said no more to Savannah as the sheriff’s car pulled onto Charlie’s property. Things have changed, he thought as he watched Sheriff Jim Ramsey lumber out of his car. The sheriff had put on a bit of weight in the year and a half that Joshua had been gone. His hair was more salt than pepper, and as his gaze fell on Savannah an expression of annoyance flashed on his features. What was that about?

The West family and Sheriff Ramsey had always shared a precarious tolerance for one another. A tolerance that often threatened to dissolve whenever the sheriff felt that the West work stepped on his toes.

Ramsey nodded to Savannah, then walked past her. “Joshua,” he greeted with a touch of surprise. “Heard you were expected back here. Hell of a welcome home. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I was on my way into town and decided to stop and say hello to Charlie. I stepped up on the porch as Ms. Clarion came crashing out the door. I went inside to see Charlie. It looks like he shot himself.”

“I came out here to interview him for my column,” Savannah said and stepped closer to the two men. “Something isn’t right here. Charlie was excited about being interviewed. He would have never done something like this. I want a full investigation into his death.”

Ramsey sighed audibly. “I’m going inside. I’ve already put in a call to Burke McReynolds.”

“Burke McReynolds?” Joshua didn’t know the name.

“You haven’t met him. We hired him on a month ago as a part-time medical examiner. If I have any more questions for the two of you, I know where to find you both. There’s no reason for you to hang around here.”

It was an obvious dismissal, and Joshua was more than ready to leave this place of death. There was nothing he could do for Charlie, and more than anything he was eager to get home to his family.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Savannah replied. Although her eyes still shone with tears, she raised her chin and looked at the sheriff defiantly. “I have a responsibility to my readers, a responsibility to Charlie.”

The annoyance that had flashed momentarily across Ramsey’s features appeared again. “Savannah, you write a gossip column and there’s nothing you can do for Charlie. Now you go on and get out of here. We don’t need you in the way as we go about our business.”

If her face had lacked color before, it didn’t now. A flush of red swept up her slender neck and took over her face, nearly matching the bright red of her hair.

“There’s something rotten in this town, Sheriff Ramsey, and I’m not going to quit until I figure out what it is.” She stomped to her car and got inside.

“What was that all about?” Joshua asked Ramsey as she pealed out and took off down the road.

“Who knows. Just spare me from Lois Lane wannabes.” Jim sighed again. “I got work to do.” As he headed for Charlie’s front door, Joshua loaded Jessie and Judd into the backseat of his car, then got in behind the steering wheel.

As Ramsey disappeared into the house, Joshua thought of Savannah Clarion’s parting words. “Something was rotten in Cotter Creek.”

What was she talking about? What in the hell had happened in his town in the time that he’d been gone?

Chapter 2

Savannah awakened with grief pressing thickly against her chest. The early-morning October sunshine drifted through the frilly lace curtains in her bedroom, and all she wanted to do was pull the pillow over her head and forget what had happened the day before.

Charlie was dead. The thought hit her in the stomach with the force of a blow. Other than Meredith and her landlady, Winnie, Charlie had been the only friend she’d made since coming to town. And now he was gone, dead in a way that made no sense whatsoever.

She’d never again see that slow, easy grin of his, never hear his acerbic sense of humor or match her wits against his in a game of chess.

“Charlie,” she whispered, her voice nothing more than a hollow echo of itself.

She wanted to weep, but she’d spent most of her tears the night before. Besides, crying didn’t change anything and neither did covering her face with a pillow and hiding in bed all day. She owed Charlie more than tears, more than denial.

She was a reporter, and even though her published work so far was nothing more than a couple of gossip columns and fluff pieces, as Sheriff Ramsey had characterized them, it was time she became an investigative reporter and found out the truth about what had happened to Charlie. She owed the old man that much.

Galvanized with a new determination, she showered, then dressed in a pair of black pencil-thin slacks and a lightweight lavender sweater. Even though it was only the first week of October, the weather had been unusually cool.

The scent of bacon and freshly brewed coffee greeted her as she stepped out of her room and headed downstairs. No matter what time Savannah got up in the morning, her elderly landlady was always up before her.

Winnie sat at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of her. She smiled a greeting as Savannah entered the kitchen. “Coffee’s on and the bacon is fried. All you need to tell me is how many eggs you want.”