Page 15 of Colt
She turned and looked over her shoulder at me, clearly surprised. “You didn’t?”
“Nope. I was a little distracted.” The corner of my mouth tipped up.
She blinked at me. “You had it for… six hours yesterday and didn’t open it?”
She meant the time between when she’d slapped the file against my chest in the morgue and when I’d pulled her over.
I shook my head. “I was waiting for you.”
“You were stalking me,” she said, as if the word change was important.
I shrugged, then grinned. “Stalking is the word we use for criminals. I was on a stakeout.”
She laughed and I loved that sound. It went right to my heart, and dick. Hell, I was never going to get enough of her.
“The file’s in the patrol car,” I said eventually. “Give me the highlights.”
I moved to sit beside her. It was early, just after dawn and the snow made everything glisten. It would melt quite a bit today once the sun hit it. Her car was in the drive. I’d have to call Shep and thank him for dropping it off, and for not knocking on the door when he did. It wasn’t like I was gonna answer it, but what guy wanted to be interrupted making his girl come on his face? Pussy juice was the best beard cream around.
“I’m not trained to be a medical examiner,” she admitted. “I’m more the keep-them-alive gal. But since this is a small town, the task falls to me when cases like Lance Mann’s comes in. I admit, when I accepted the role I knew this could be a part of it, but it’s not my favorite.”
I imagined not.
“Okay.” I usually needed tons of caffeine after getting as little sleep as we did, but I was energized.
“Preliminary tox reports I was able to run in the morgue were clean,” she began. Her voice was even. Methodical. I could tell she’d switched intoprofessional mode, even sitting in only my shirt that didn’t hide the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra beneath. “He hadn’t been drinking and there wasn’t any obvious drugs in his system. But I sent blood, fluid, and tissue samples to Missoula for a full report.”
“Okay, so he didn’t party.”
“His lungs were pretty much a big ashtray. I assume he smoked.”
I huffed. “Oh yeah. Last week before he died, I had to drag his ass to my brother’s place. Long story, but he had two cigarettes before the ride home.”
She made a sound parents made when they were disappointed in their kid. Every child knew that sound.
I jumped right to what I needed to know as sheriff. “Murder?”
She shook her head. “Stroke.”
My eyes widened. “Stroke?”
“Yes. Clear and obvious signs of bleeding on the brain.”
I set my mug down. “He was found at the bottom of a flight of stairs. Couldn’t he have hit his head on the way down a bunch of times?”
She shook her head from side to side as if considering. “Possible. Probable even.”
“Someone could have helped him down the steps.”
“He didn’t die from the fall though,” she clarified. “X-rays showed his femur was broken as well as T6 and T7 vertebrae in his back. A broken leg and back would’ve meant a tough recovery, but both are survivable.”
I leaned forward, set my elbows on the table. “You’re telling me Lance Mann had a stroke and fell down the steps because of it?” I couldn’t believe it. Well, I could, but it was crazy. I was sure Conrad Trout had pushed him–or had someone do it for him–because he wanted the guy dead for fucking him over in their ridiculously illegal arranged marriage plan that failed. Ellie, Trig’s new wife, was Mann’s daughter and was the sole heir of the estate, meaning the Rocking M Ranch and the money Trout had forked over for her.
He was one pissed off asshole.
“Yes.” She nodded definitively. “My report, though, was also sent to Missoula for review. The body will remain in the morgue until the chief medical examiner there clears it. Like you said, you’re thinking this was a murder, so I want to ensure my findings are solid.”
“Well shit,” I muttered. There was no murderer in Devil’s Ditch after all. Conrad Trout was an asshole,but he hadn’t killed Ellie’s father. No one had. “I need to see my brother, and you’re coming with me.”
