Page 14 of Killer on the Homestead
“My dad is on his way,” Duncan told the cop. Then, before the guy could ask any more questions, Duncan turned away from him. He felt weak-kneed from that bright bolt of terror.
So he walked until he didn’t. Until he found Rosalie. She didn’t look at him, but she began speaking, and he could only figure it wastohim.
“I called a detective at Bent County. He’s rounding up the coroner, though the paramedics hopefully already put that call in. I don’t know why Stanley has to be such an ass about it.” She scowled over her shoulder at the guy, who was now talking to the ranch hand who’d gotten them. “You said your mom’s out running errands. You better give her a call. No doubt ifanyonenoticed emergency services turning into the ranch, they’re already calling her to ask what happened.”
Duncan swore inwardly. “Dad texted asking what was going on. I just told him to come on up.”
She nodded. “Call your mom, or text her, if she’ll read those. Tell her you’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
Rosalie shrugged. “Small-town gossip isn’t alwaystruegossip, Ace. You should know that. Text your mom.”
Duncan sighed. He didn’t like taking orders from anyone, but particularly this slip of a woman who was only a little more than a stranger to him. But he still pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted his mom.
Come home. I’m okay.Before he hit Send, he quickly added that Dad was okay too, then slid the phone back in his pocket just as yet another car he didn’t recognize came to a stop next to the police car and ambulance, followed by a truck.
A guy dressed far too nice for ranch work, with expensive sunglasses, got out of the car. A woman who looked vaguelyfamiliar got out of the truck. The woman headed for the paramedics, while the man made a beeline for Rosalie.
He approached, surveyed Duncan with a flicker of recognition, but he didn’t say anything about it. “How’d you get roped into this?” he said by way of greeting to Rosalie.
“Long story,” Rosalie returned, shading her eyes against the quickly rising sun.
“Well, Bent County will take it from here.” He held out a hand to Duncan. “Detective Copeland Beckett, Bent County Sheriff’s Department.”
Duncan shook the offered hand, still feeling fully out of his body. “Duncan Kirk.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“It’s his parents’ place,” Rosalie explained. “By the way, I don’t want Stanley on this case.”
The detective sighed. “You don’t have a say,” he replied with a shrug. And then, as if he realized it was not in his best interest to fully piss her off, he added, “Besides, he won’t be investigating. I will.”
Rosalie let out a huff of a breath. But once the detective walked away, toward the possiblemurderscene, she muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “so will I.”
Which eased some of Duncan’s tension, whether it should or not.
Rosalie hung aroundwhile Copeland asked questions, poked around the murder scene, conferred with the coroner. No matter how many times Copeland tried to shoo her away, she stuck close. She observed, kept a tally of questions and answers, and a mental note of everything she overheard. Once she had some time, she’d sit down and write it all out while the information was still fresh.
Copeland Beckett was a fine enough detective. She trusted him to do his due diligence, even if some of the people involved were incompetent.
Xavier Stanley was at the top ofthatlist.
But this was too close to the Young Ranch, and until Rosalie knew why someone had murdered this guy, she wasn’t about to back off and let anyone else handle the case, even if she trusted them.
Until she knew why that guy was murdered, and by who, she was working this case.
The body was removed, evidence sealed and packed away, pictures taken.
Rosalie snuck a few of her own on her cell phone when Copeland and Deputy Stanley weren’t looking.
When the coroner was making the move to leave, Rosalie sidled up to her. Gracie Cooper was older than her, so they hadn’t gone to school together and didn’t really know each other socially, but that never stopped Rosalie from trying to press an advantage.
“You’ll share that report with me, right?”
Gracie let out a sigh, the long-suffering kind. “Rosalie. You know better.”
“It’s for a case.”
