Page 26 of Killer on the Homestead
Duncan nodded. “I can get my hands on a map.”
“Then we need dates. More than just that list of cows your mom gave you. What was going on that day, who was working what jobs. Maybe you could talk to Terry about it. Or I can.”
“I’ll do it,” Duncan said. “Not sure Terry’s my biggest fan. Pretty sure he sees us both as outsiders, but he’ll be more careful with you. If I get Mom behind me, he’ll tell me everything.”
“Okay. So I’ll leave it up to you. Gather all that information, and we’ll go from there. Tonight, I’ll talk to Audra about everything she remembers when the cows ended up over at our place.”
“Sure, I—” He was interrupted by a vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and saw his agent’s name. He could avoid it, but then he’d be distracted, and he still wanted to talk to Rosalie about Owen. “Can you wait here? Just a second. I have to take this, but… Just give me one second.”
She eyed him suspiciously, but she nodded, so he walked deeper into the cabin and went into his bedroom. The last thing he wanted was Rosalie’s eyes on him while he talked to Scott about baseball things.
Rosalie watched asDuncan moved stiffly down the hall and into a room she suspected was his bedroom. He shut the door.
She’d never seen that look on his face before. A kind of hard-edged annoyance. Not quite as pissed off as she’d seen him get over things with the case. No, there was something too resigned about it.
Rosalie forced herself to survey the cabin instead of continuing to mine thoughts about Duncan’sfacialexpressions. But there was something she had no compunction about mining.
Since he was occupied, Rosalie poked around his living room, which was indeed full of unpacked boxes. She’d been a private investigator too long not to take liberties when she had the opportunity. She nudged open a box in the corner, then just stared at it.
It was full of…trophies and awards. Somewhat haphazardly packed. None were wrapped up carefully, but a few sheets of bubble wrap were stuffed here and there. She didn’t reach out and touch one, but she read the engraving on one that she could see.Cy Young Award.
It sent a strange wave of sympathy through her—which didn’t make much sense, because he had an award she knew was incredibly important and amazing in his sport. He was loaded. He had gone out into the world and lived his dream. So why should she feel any sympathy for that, even if it had ended on a sour note?
But he’d been at the top of his game. A bona fide star. Now he was back in Wyoming and in constant pain, it seemed. With missing cows, murders, and worry about his parents.
And that was the foundation of where any sympathy came from. She could see it on his face, the way he wasn’t taking care of himself. He worried far more about his parents than about his old awards, or life, or even his pain.
He’d been going around today hurting, all because he hadn’t taken the time to eat something and take a pain pill.
She was just soft enough that she couldn’t quite harden her heart against that. Which didn’t seem fair at all.
“Did it ever occur to you some of that might be private?”
Rosalie refused to jump or startle. She glanced over at him and smiled, not bothering to close the box. “Of course it occurred to me. That’s why I looked.”
Maybe she expected him to be angry about it. Maybe she hadn’t really considered his reaction. But she sure wasn’t prepared for that grin of his, and the way it shot through her like fireworks.
“You want to go through all my awards, Red?” he asked in that slick way he had that she really,reallywished didn’t affect her the way it did. “You’ll be here all night.”
Something about him sayingall nightpoked holes in all her usual smarts. Because she should have let that go. Stepped back and away from thedanger, dangerof it all.
She didn’t. “Well, if that’s the most entertaining thing you can think of to do all night, no wonder you’re back to living with your parents.”
The air felt charged then.All nighthanging around them like a storm that rolled in out of nowhere. Which just kept happening. Every time she was around him.
It’s not going to stop.
No, it wasn’t. Not when he moved closer, and she was not someone who retreated, even when she should. She stood her ground. She fought any threat head-on and with relish.
Except this one. She took a step back, and then another, until she found herself backed against a wall.
A place she had never found herself in all her life.
“That wasn’t an invitation to prove yourself,” she said, but she didn’t sound like her normal, in-control, haughty self. She sounded winded.
Particularly when he stood in front of her, all tall and broad and so handsome it hurt.
He raised an eyebrow, leaned closer. “No?” he asked, reaching out. She thought he’d touch her face or something, something she should stop him from doing. But he only smoothed a big hand over her hair.
