Page 48 of Killer on the Homestead
He supposed there was no point trying to hedge with Mom. Even if she didn’t figure it out, someone would see his truck in Wilde and no doubt tell her. “Okay, fine, I’m going to stop by Fool’s Gold and talk to Rosalie.” He looked down at the list with a scowl. “She’s not shaking me off of this.”
“Investigating is her job, her expertise. Is she shaking you off or is she just doing her job?”
Duncan didn’t know quite how to respond to that. Mom wasn’t wrong, but this was… It was a unique circumstance. Her job involvedhim. This ranch. His family. “You want me to just sit around and stew?”
“I want you to be safe.”
Guilt was a sharp pang in his heart, but he didn’t let it take over what had to be done. “I’m not in any danger. This all happened while I wasn’t here. The murder happened when no one was around. Whatever’s going on doesn’t connect to us. You don’t have to worry about me being safe. We’re all safe.”
“Duncan.”
He hated the way his mother sounded. So…beaten down. Distraught. That just wasn’t her. She had endless patience and optimism that everything could work out with enough hard work.
She sighed. “I want to believe some stranger came in and did both these things. I know that’s what your father believes. And I’m trying so hard, but…”
He knew what she was going to say, and he hated it, but he felt that way too. “But it feels like an inside job.”
Mom nodded. There were tears in her eyes, but they didn’t fall. “It’s one of our own. I just know it.”
Rosalie knew thereception from the detectives wouldn’t be positive, but maybe that’s why she went. She wanted an argument. She was itching for a fight. Why not have it with Copeland?
Not smart when she was riding on the fumes of sleep deprivation, but she didn’t want to be smart or patient, or depend on any of her usual investigative techniques.Usuallythe job itself kept her in line.
Except when the client mattered personally to her. Then her lines got a little blurry.
She wanted action and answers, and for this damn thing to be over. Because all she could seem to think about, worry about,obsessover, was how bereft Mr. and Mrs. Kirk had looked. How beaten down and exhausted Duncan was.
Even in sleep, when she’d slid out of bed maybe having dozed for less than an hour herself, he’d looked beat up, lying there, breathing evenly. Handsome as a devil but beatup.
Police investigations were full of waiting. Full of time ticking. Funny how easy that was to understand when she didn’t reallyknow the victim, and how impossible and unfair it felt when the crime was mixed up with people she knew and cared about.
And because she didcareabout Duncan in uncomfortable ways, she was going to throw her whole self into getting answersfast. Better than dealing with all that care.
She strode into the sheriff’s department with a grim smile on her face. She made a beeline for the detective’s office and was gratified to find all three of the detectives in there. Clearly having a little meeting.
Before she could even open her mouth for an obnoxious greeting, Copeland was snarling at her.
“Get the hell out of here, Rosalie.”
“You guys busy?” she said, ignoring him. “Did you get a match on the prints you pulled from Duncan’s place? Matches to the murder weapon?”
Copeland didn’t respond. He jerked his chin at Detective Delaney-Carson and she nodded. She left the room, Copeland followed with little more than a glare in Rosalie’s direction.
She waited until both detectives were out of the room, then turned to Hart, who was sitting at a desk. Expressly not making eye contact with her.
“Where are they going?”
He studied her with that pinched-cop look she hated. Especially from Hart, because unlike Copeland, he had an excellent bedside manner. Which meant it felt like he waspityingher, and she’d rather spar with Copeland than bepitiedor treated gently by her cousin’s husband.
“There’s movement on the case,” Hart said with carefulcoplanguage.
“What kind of movement?”
“The kind I can give you a general debrief on, because you’ll find out soon enough once you talk to the Kirks. But I need youto promise to keep clear of it for a little bit while we sort out some logistics.”
“Why would I promise that?”
“Because otherwise I’ll make you go get the information out of the Kirks. I know I can’t stop you, Rosalie, but I can slow you down.”
