Warrior Son

Dr. Cumberland looked away. “Sometimes our samples get contaminated and it throws off the results.”

That had happened before. “I know you cared about him,” Megan said softly. “And so did his sons. I just want the truth.”

He paused in his pacing and turned to look at her, his expression pained. “What are you saying, Megan? That someone killed my best and oldest friend? That it happened while he was under my care?”

Chapter Five (#ulink_1c3131a1-9d7c-57b1-8104-e150aaf5cef2)

Dr. Cumberland looked completely distraught.

Megan stepped over to him and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Doctor, I know this is upsetting.”

The man’s face contorted with emotions. “How could I have missed that? I saw him all the time...”

“It happened so slowly, there was no reason for you to look for it, not with Joe already dying.”

“This makes no sense,” he said. “Why would anyone kill Joe? He didn’t have long to live.”

“That’s the big question,” Megan said. “And one I’m sure his sons will want the answer to.”

Dr. Cumberland looked stricken, and then he slumped into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. “Good God, Joe...what have I done?”

The guilt in the man’s voice tugged at Megan’s heartstrings. “You didn’t do anything. Joe knew you were his friend. If he’d thought someone was poisoning him, he would have told you.”

“But I was his primary physician. I should have realized, should have seen something.”

“Like I said, whoever poisoned him did it in small doses over a long period of time.” She drummed her fingers on the desk. “Can you think of anyone who had a grudge against Joe?”

“Just Barbara. And maybe Arlis Bennett, but he’s in jail.” He pushed himself up, but staggered slightly. His pallor was gray, his breathing unsteady.

Megan reached out to steady him. “Are you okay? You aren’t having chest pains, are you?”

He shook his head no, then straightened and swiped at the perspiration beading on his forehead. “I have to go.”

“Wait.” She caught his arm. “Maybe you need to see a doctor.”

“I’m fine, I just need some air.” He shrugged off her hand and hurried toward the door before she could stop him.

* * *

ROAN’S GUT CHURNED with the news of Joe McCullen’s murder.

For a fraction of a second, he considered the possibility that this could have been a mercy killing. Mama Mary supposedly loved the McCullens like family—she’d taken care of Joe during his illness.

What if she’d hated seeing him suffer and decided to speed death along?

Although slowly poisoning someone was not merciful. If Mama Mary or someone else, say Dr. Cumberland, had wanted to keep Joe from suffering, he or she would have found a faster way.

As he drove down the long winding drive to the main farmhouse at Horseshoe Creek, he scanned the property. It was an impressive spread. Now it belonged to Joe’s three sons.

Horses galloped across the fields while cattle grazed in the pastures. Brett had brought more horses in to train and planned to offer riding lessons and was rebuilding the barns that burned down. He’d taken his wife, Willow, and his son away for a couple of weeks in hopes Maddox would track down the culprit sabotaging the McCullens.

Hopefully Maddox would arrest Romley and the trouble would end.

But the fact that Joe had been murdered changed everything. Was Gates responsible? Or...Barbara or Bobby?

Sunshine slanted across the graveled drive and farmhouse as he parked. The ground was dry from lack of rain, although winds stirred dust and scattered leaves and twigs across the yard. Hopefully spring would come soon with warmer weather, new growth and the ranch could get back on track.

But he wouldn’t be a part of it. He didn’t belong.

Still, he had to get justice for his father.

The sound of cattle echoed above the low whine of the wind, and he spotted a cowboy at the top of the hill herding the cows toward the pasture to the east.

A gray cloud moved across the sky shrouding the sun as he strode up to the front porch.

He knocked, noting that the repairs on the house were complete.

He knocked again, then heard shuffling inside. “Hang on to your britches, I’m coming.”

Roan shifted and scanned the perimeter of the property again, searching for anyone lurking around, but nothing suspicious stood out. A second later, Mama Mary lumbered to the door and opened it.

The scent of cinnamon wafted toward Roan, making his mouth water.

The short, chubby lady wiped her hands on her apron as she invited him in. She’d wound a bandana around her chin-length brown curls and flour dusted her blouse and apron. Her brown eyes were so warm and loving that Roan couldn’t help but envy the McCullens. Although alarm tinged them at the sight of him. “Deputy Whitefeather, Is something wrong? Did you hear from Maddox?”

“Maddox is fine,” Roan assured her. “I spoke to him earlier today. He has a lead on Stan Romley.”

Relief softened her face. “Thank goodness. Maybe they’ll lock him up, and my boys can get back to work here on the ranch where they belong.”

Her boys. She said it with such affection that if he’d ever considered the possibility of her doing something to hurt the family, that thought vanished like dust in the wind.

“May I come in? I’d like to ask you some questions.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Something is wrong. Something you don’t want to say.”

Roan jammed his hands in his pockets. She was damned intuitive. “I’m just trying to help Maddox identify the arsonist.”

She nodded, although she scrutinized his face as if she didn’t quite believe him. Still, she waved him in. “You want some tea or coffee?”

“Coffee would be good,” he said. Maybe it would put them both at ease if he at least acted like this was informal, not a hunting expedition. Although, if she knew her boss and family friend had been murdered, he had a feeling she would want to help.

She gestured toward the den where a fire crackled in the fireplace, and she disappeared into the kitchen while he surveyed the room. A family picture of Joe and his three sons hung on one wall—the boys were teenagers then. A bookshelf held other pictures, a couple of Joe and the woman who must have been his wife, Grace. A third one showed Grace holding a baby in her arms with two toddlers beside her—Ray had to be the baby, Maddox and Brett the toddlers.

How would she have reacted if she’d known that Joe had another son at that time? Roan was probably just a few months older than Maddox.

His hand stroked his wallet where he kept a picture of his mother. There had been no father in the picture because she’d chosen not to tell Joe about him. What would Joe have done if he’d known? Would he have offered to marry Roan’s mother?

Would he have grown up a McCullen and lived on a ranch like this?