Page 23 of Cowboy Peril

Going through their drawers, cleaning out their closets, disposing of their things…only brought their deaths to the forefront of her mind. In true pampered-princess fashion, she’d rather forget it had happened at all. Now, with someone after her, she had no choice but to face the fact her parents were gone—most likely murdered, Tanya was definitely murdered, which left it up to Parker to find their killer.

The least qualified person in Arkansas.

“What’s with all the sighing?”

She peered at Colt. “Just facing reality.” She returned her seat to its upright position. “It’s up to me to catch my parents’ killer.”

“No, it’s up to the authorities.” He glanced at her as if she’d sprouted horns. “Whatever we might find today goes directly to them. If not, you could be arrested for impeding a murder investigation.”

“They still don’t believe my parents were murdered.”

“No, but they believe your friend was. Eventually, the pieces will all fit together. Especially with the reports Sheriff Westbrook sends to LRPD.”

“Fine.” Parker agreed in principle, but that didn’t mean she’d stop snooping on her end. The authorities moved way too slowly. She didn’t want to die because they didn’t find the culprit in time. Her gut told her she’d need a weapon in the near future. She would also retrieve the Ruger her father taught her to shoot with.

~

Colt didn’t believe Parker for a second. She’d given in too easily. The woman had something on her mind he definitely wouldn’t like.

By the time he pulled the truck up the winding drive of her family home, his mind had spun all sorts of possibilities, ranging from her running away to facing the killer alone. Both possibilities sent a trickle of perspiration down his spine.

Together, they approached the front door. Parker pulled a key from her purse. A light blinked from the control panel to the alarm as they entered, and she punched in the code to turn it off.

The musty smell of a house closed up for months assailed his nostrils. What did Parker intend to do with this massive house? It had to be worth a fortune.

Parker squared her shoulders and headed up the wide staircase to the second floor. She stopped in the doorway to her parents’ room. Silent sobs shook her, before she turned and opened a door halfway down a hallway. Wooden stairs rose to the attic.

It took all his self-control not to pull her into his arms as he had the night before and kiss away her sorrow. Last night should not have happened. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. The feel of her in his arms had kept him awake for hours.

At the top of the stairs, Parker flipped a switch which lit up the attic. “The box is over here.” She led him to the opposite corner and opened a large cardboard box full of smaller white boxes. “I have no idea which one he meant. This might take a while.”

“—If your assumption is right.” He knelt on the dusty floor while she pulled up a chair covered with a sheet. “I’ll hand you a couple. With both of us looking, it shouldn’t take too long.”

Last Christmas, he’d given her the snow globe he held in his hand. One that he’d spent a long time online picking out. A man and a woman strolling hand in hand through a snowy landscape. He’d foolishly thought the couple resembled him and Parker. Colt turned it over in his hand and removed the battery plate. Nothing.

Soon, they had a pile of snow-globe boxes around them.

“If not these, then what could he mean?” Parker stood and stretched, her eyes scanning each corner of the attic.

“Something else that has to do with snow. Skiing?” Colt grunted as he stood. He was too old to sit on the floor for long periods of time.

“My family aren’t skiers.” She paced, her steps leaving prints in the dust. “But—” She rushed to another box and dropped to her knees. “We did spend a week in upstate New York once. It snowed quite a bit.” She opened a box and pulled out a photo album.

“It could be we’re looking in the wrong place.”

She frowned. “Don’t be a Debbie Downer. The clue is in this attic somewhere. I feel it.” She slipped through pages, looking behind every photo. When she reached the last place, she satback, letting the album slide to the floor. “Hold on. My father went on a business trip once and complained about the weather. He’d been snowed in at his hotel for days. A newspaper article had been written about the conference he attended. Mom kept all that sort of memorabilia. The question is where? There are a lot of boxes up here.”

“We’d better keep looking. Mind if I open them without you?”

She waved a hand. “Sure. I’ve nothing to hide at this point, and we’ll go faster if we focus on different boxes.”

He headed for the opposite side of the attic to where boxes that had once held copy paper were stacked. These looked like they might have come from an office. The first box proved him right. “These look like they might have belonged to your father.”

“More business boxes?” Her eyes widened. “I still haven’t finished with the ones I had delivered from his office.”

“These are older.” He scooted a box her way. “Happy digging.”

“Colt—” Several boxes later, she held up a newspaper. “Here is the article I was talking about. There’s a photo of Dad and two of his employees, but the heavy snowfall makes it hard to distinguish their features.”

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