Page 19 of Killer on the Homestead
So it was just her and Duncan alone in this old, finnicky building, with the lights dimmed for the night.
A strange tension wound itself into a tight ball in her chest. Not discomfort, not anything she fully recognized, and that lefther feeling off-kilter. Unable to find her usual brash way through without her normal footing.
“Why are you here?” she asked, sounding far too grumpy and demanding.
He eyed her with some humor, which put her even more off balance. Who met rudeness with humor?
“Cops finally left. You said you wanted to know what they did and said.”
“Yeah, I do, but you didn’t have to come all the way out here.”
He shrugged. “Mom’s already planning the funeral—I guess Hunter’s family wasn’t interested. She had me run some errands for it, and I was in the area, so I thought I’d stop by and tell you. Be easier here, anyway.”
Rosalie remembered then, with a clear detail she didn’t want, how Natalie had stepped in and walked Mom through funeral preparations for Dad even as their entire foundation had crumbled around them.
The Kirks did what needed doing, and maybe she figured the hotshot baseball player who’d barely been home wouldn’t follow suit, but clearly he did.
“We don’t have to do it here if you’re…” He trailed off. The humor didn’t leave his expression. “Uncomfortable.”
She barely resisted a scowl. “Why would I be uncomfortable?”
He gave a little shrug, still standing close to the doorway. “I’m a big guy. You’re a small woman. It’s late, and I assume we’re in this building alone. I wouldn’t blame you for feeling…intimidated.”
She wasn’t sure if he meant that to be a challenge, or if he was just an arrogant SOB. She patted the gun on her hip. “I’m armed.” Because she wasn’tintimidated.Rosalie Young didn’t do intimidated. Never had.
But his amused smile stayed put. “Noted.”
“And you’re not that big,” she continued. Childishly, she knew, but she just hadn’t been able to stop herself. Because, of course he wasthatbig. He had to be pushing six-five, and she was fairly certain there wasn’t an ounce of body fat on that tall, muscular frame.
The way his mouth seemed to take its time unfurling into an upward curl, the way his dark eyes danced with humor, had unwanted and unfamiliar fireworks going off inside of her. Rosaliehatedfeeling knocked off her axis. She associated it with the aftermath of her father’s death, and even if this was a kind of…an almost pleasant knocked-off-her-axis feeling, she still didn’t trust it.
Or him for bringing out unfamiliar feelings.
“So run me through it,” she said, brusquely turning away from him and marching back into her office.
He followed her into the room, took the seat across from her desk that she gestured to. When she looked at him again, the humor and smile had both melted away.
Back to murder and questions. She almost regretted it. Except this was her job and this was why he was even here.
“They came back with search warrants for the house and the bunks. They were really interested in gun safes and who owned what, the licenses everyone had. That sort of thing. Makes sense, I guess.”
Rosalie nodded. That was about what she’d expected. “They’ll be back once they know what kind of gun killed him. They’ll compare what guns they first inventoried, make sure none mysteriously disappeared. They’ll have more questions as they carefully and methodically build a case.”
“Against who?”
“It’ll depend on the guns. It’ll depend on if they think they’ve found a motive. An investigation like this… It’s all layers. They’ll work hard, but unless it’s easy answers, it’ll be slow going.”
Duncan clearly didn’t like that answer, and Rosalie couldn’t blame him.
He sat forward, balancing his elbows on his knees as he looked at her intently. “The thing is, if everything Owen said was true, Hunter was trying to get on the straight and narrow. He left the bad stuff behind in North Dakota. Why would it follow him all the way here? Why would it end in murder?”
“I’ve put some feelers out, as no doubt Detective Beckett has, to the authorities in North Dakota to see if we can get an idea of the trouble he’d been in, and who else was involved.”
“What if it’s nothing?”
“No point crossing that bridge ’til we come to it. First, we’ve got to find the nothing.”
Duncan made a frustrated grunting sound. “I’m worried about my parents. Not just their safety, but the mental toll of all this. They were already worried about the missing cows, now this. If it drags on… I don’t want it to drag on.”
