Page 42 of Fool's Gold

Sarah frowned like she was fumbling for an excuse. "No thanks, you wouldn't know what to get. Besides, you owe me. You did confiscate my keys, leaving me stranded."

"Okay, I guess you can come," he said grudgingly.

Sarah sat in an uncomfortable tweed chair in a corner of the room while Rafe sat in front of Bob Wilson's desk. Rafe put on a front of confidence, but she knew he was as tense as a canary in a room full of cats.

Rafe cast a frustrated glance her way.

"How do you like that?" Rafe grumbled. "Here I am on time for my appointment, and he keeps me waiting for half an hour."

Sarah was worried, too, but strove to hide it. She needed to be supportive, no matter what happened. He flashed her the I-don't-give-a-damn smile of a man going before a firing squad.

She twined her fingers together to keep her hands from shaking. "Try to be patient, Rafe. Bob did say he was waiting for some lab results, and it would be worth our while to wait."

He sighed and leaned back in the chair. "At least you believe I'm innocent. Now we just have to convince the law." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Waiting stinks. I've never been good at it."

She smiled at his petulant, little boy tone. "Oh, I don't know. You waited six months for me."

He cast her an intense look. "That's different. You were worth waiting for."

It was his first declaration of affection, and she hugged it to her like a security blanket.

Wilson entered the room. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting so long. Ballistics had to fax me some info on the shell casings we found on the bluff yesterday."

"And...?" Rafe prompted.

Wilson slapped a sheet of paper on his desk. "The shots that hit your wife came from a rifle. A thirty ought six."

"There are plenty of those around. Heck, we've got several of them around the ranch." He looked from the paper to Wilson. "Hey, what about Blackthorn, does he own a rifle?"

Wilson smiled grimly. "He did, but he reported it stolen a week ago."

"It figures." Rafe scowled. "Blackthorn's not stupid. If he were going to do the shooting, he'd claim that he didn't have the gun."

Wilson frowned. "Rafe, we checked. Nevell Blackthorn was working on bank business when your wife was shot."

"Has he got any witnesses to back him up?" Rafe asked sharply.

Wilson sighed. "He doesn't need witnesses, Rafe, you do. You're the one accused of a crime."

"What about the rock fragments?" Sarah asked. "And the bullets from the wolves? You've had plenty of time to check on them."

Wilson turned to look at her. "They came from the same gun, ma'am."

Sarah smiled. "Then you know Rafe is innocent. Rafe was with me when the second shots were fired."

"That's true, but you two could have set this up as a ruse." Wilson shrugged. "Or Rafe could have persuaded a pal to take a shot at you."

"What a stupid thing to say." Sarah stood and stepped toward the men. She put a hand on Rafe's shoulder. "My husbandwouldn't do such an underhanded thing. I have complete faith in him."

Wilson nodded. "My gut feeling says he's been set up, but I have to check the weapons on the ranch to be sure."

She glanced at Rafe. The satisfied smile he gave her took her breath away. Apparently, her trust meant a great deal to him.

He refocused Wilson. "What do you want me to do, Bob?"

Wilson sat in his desk chair. "Let’s work out the details."

"I'll do whatever I have to do to get this cleared up. I want this solved as much as you do."

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