Page 114 of Cowboy Heat
“No one in Robin’s Tree could ever put a finger on that man. Who knows what kind of life he’d lived that would get him killed?”
She says something after that. However, I’m sticking to a train of thought that’s shooting out faster than a speeding bullet.
“We’ve been thinking this whole thing has been about finding a missing Guidry,” I say. “But what if we should have been trying to solve a murder instead? Ryan King’s?”
My gaze finally shifts to the view I have of the land I can see from the porch.
“Not even Beau and his brothers knew they were inheriting Blue Lolita,” I continue, more sure in my words the more I say them. “If Ryan had no one to inherit it, this ranch would have gone to the bank. Then anyone could have bought it.”
“Why would anyone kill over getting a ranch with no purpose and in need of massive repair in Nowhere, Louisiana?”
It’s a fair question.
I think of a fair answer.
“Why would anyone turn a graveyard into a self-made community calledThe Light in the Trees?”
Mimi sucks in a breath.
“Guidry?” she says. “You think he would kill so he could buy the ranch?”
I don’t know.
I don’t get a chance to say as much.
My stare goes from the land to Deputy Myers’ cruiser. Now that I have insider information and a new working theory, I feel more confident locking eyes with him. Sure, if Dan was killed for hiding the fact that Ryan didn’t die from a heart attack, and that Guidry might have been involved, that wouldn’t account for Grant Robertson and Louis Becker.
Or the sheriff.
But it’s something.
Though, when I stare through the windshield, I don’t think any theory is going to help me now.
I guess I should have looked at my surroundings before blindly pacing across the porch.
I might have seen him sooner.
I don’t know what it says about me, but in the moment, I can’t help but think: at least I have my shoes on.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX
Beau
The worldsure has a funny way of speeding up after you’ve finally decided to slow down. I’ve slept through the night. Finally. My firstrealgood night’s sleep since coming to Robin’s Tree. Since, well, it’s been a long time coming.
That doesn’t help the parts of me that are hurting, like my leg and the slight sting of the cut Grant delivered, but I reach for the pillow next to me with all intentions of showing Kissy Lawson I’m still as ready to go as I was the night before.
She’s not there, and the sheets are cold to the touch.
I sit up faster than I should. I’m alone.
I don’t like it.
I’m out of bed and searching out pants before I make my way through the house to the kitchen.
No Kissy.
I go back to the room we shared, then the guest bedroom where her bag is. It’s been opened and my shirt she put on before sleep is folded neatly on the bed next to it.
