Diana Palmer - Wyoming Bold

“It will be all right, Mama,” Merissa said, hugging her close. “We all have to face what he did. He was violent and he hurt us. He hurt other people, too. His end was like his life, a mirror of the damage he did.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, too. Whatever else he was, he was still my father. But at least we don’t have to live in fear of him anymore.”

“It’s just, the way he died,” Clara said. She wiped her eyes. “He had a girlfriend, didn’t he? Should we try to find her?”

Tank and Cody Banks exchanged meaningful looks. There might be clues to the man’s identity in Bill Blake’s circle of friends in California. “That’s not a bad idea,” Tank said.

Cody nodded.

“I have a friend who lives in San Diego,” Rourke said. “I’ll get him on it. If you have a contact there in the sheriff’s department,” he told Cody, “that would help. His friends and acquaintances might be able to point us to clues about the rogue agent’s identity.”

“I agree,” Cody said. “Good thinking. I’ll get on it.”

A van pulled up in the driveway and a man in jeans and a sweatshirt got out, along with a younger man who stayed in the van. The coroner was tall, with thinning hair and a sad face.

“The coroner,” Cody introduced. “Mack Hollis.”

“Hello,” he greeted them. “I understand there was a death?”

Cody nodded. “My man is standing over the body. I’ll show you where it is.”

The two men went around the house. The man in the van climbed out and followed closely behind.

Clara’s face was very pale. “I don’t want to be out here when they bring him around...”

“He’ll be in a body bag,” Tank said gently. “You won’t have to see him. But we can go inside if you’d rather.”

“I’d rather,” Clara said gently.

Carson followed Tank and the two women into the house. The women looked at him with curiosity and a little uneasiness.

“I’ll be a model houseguest,” Carson told them politely. “I’ll be outside most of the time, observing, setting up a perimeter. I’ll only need a room to sleep in at night.”

Merissa was nervous. It showed.

Carson actually smiled. “I haven’t ever hurt a woman.”

Merissa relaxed a little and managed a smile in return. “Okay.”

“You can have the guest bedroom,” Clara said gently. “It’s sort of cluttered...”

“Leave it that way. I don’t mind clutter. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get to work.” He nodded to Tank and Rourke and went back outside.

“Well,” Rourke told Tank, who was irritated, “he’s got a point. You’re the danger magnet right now. If you stay here, you put them in even more danger.”

“I know that,” Tank gritted. “That doesn’t mean I like it.”

Merissa went right up to him. “We’d feel safer with a man here, especially after what just happened,” she said. “It’s okay.”

He relaxed. He smoothed his big hand over her hair. “I worry.”

She smiled. Her eyes were soft with affection. “I like that.”

He chuckled.

CODY CAME BACK into the cabin a few minutes later. The women had made coffee, and Rourke and Tank were sharing a pot with them.

“Coffee?” Merissa asked the sheriff.

“Sorry, no time,” he replied. “We’ve got him loaded up and our investigator is out there doing the walkaround with a crime scene technician. It will take a little time to complete, but they won’t bother you,” he told the women. “The investigator will need to speak with you. And I’ll need a report. If I give you the forms, can you fill them out and have them dropped by my office?”

“Certainly,” Clara said for both of them. She teared up again. “He was a bad man. But when we first married, he was so gentle and kind...” She shook her head. “I never understood what changed him.”

“Life happens,” Cody said quietly. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Merissa said.

Cody looked at Tank. “What time is supper?”

Tank chuckled. “Six sharp. You don’t have to dress. We’re informal.”

Cody grinned. “Okay. See you then.”

Tank and Rourke stayed until the investigator was finished and the women had given their information to him. The crime scene technicians packed up and left with him, with trace evidence, photographic evidence and measurements intact.

“I’ll get home,” Tank said. “I hate to leave you, both of you, here.” He sighed. “But Carson’s right. I don’t want to make you a target. It’s me he’s after.”

Merissa hugged him. “Thanks for caring.”

“Silly woman,” he teased. He bent and kissed her gently, in front of them all. “I have to take care of my girl.”

She beamed. “Don’t go out alone.”

He grinned. “Never.” He glanced at Rourke. “He wouldn’t let me.”

“Dead right,” Rourke replied. “And don’t be afraid of Carson,” he added gently. “He’s not what he seems. He’s a good man. He’ll take care of you.”

“He’s very...” Clara searched for words.

“Yes.” Rourke laughed. “He’s very everything. But he’ll never let you down.”

“Okay,” Merissa said.

“I’ll call you later,” Tank told Merissa. He kissed her again and he and Rourke left the cabin.

On the way home, he stopped by a local jewelry store. Christmas was almost on them, and he meant to get her something very special indeed. She liked rubies. He smiled as he picked out a set of rings.

MERISSA FOUND CARSON hard going as a houseguest. He never said a word. He nodded as he passed them when he got up in the morning, but he was constantly out and about on the property. He checked out all the rooms. There was an attic, too, but Merissa assured him that it was only a crawlspace and a ladder would be required to access it. They didn’t even have a ladder.

The second day he was there, Merissa got up the nerve to ask him if he wanted coffee when he started out the door.

He paused, glanced at her wary expression and retraced his steps. He was much taller than she was, about Dalton’s height. But he was much more somber and uptight.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to offer. I mean, you don’t eat meals with us or... We wouldn’t mind, you know, there’s always extra food...”

He liked her shyness. It was unusual. Well, Cash Grier’s vicious little secretary was shy when she wasn’t verbally assaulting him. He hated the memory of her. He hated having hurt her...

Merissa swallowed, because he looked suddenly angry. She had a terror of angry men, learned at a very early age from her father.

Carson saw it and forcibly relaxed his expression. “I appreciate the offer of food, but I have meals at the Kirk ranch, so that I can keep Dalton up-to-date.” He smiled. “He really has a case on you.”

She smiled back, and her whole face lit up. “I sort of have a case on him, too,” she confessed. “He’s...very special.”

“He feels the same about you.” He hesitated. “I would like coffee.”

She beamed. “I just made a fresh pot. It’s rather strong,” she said hesitantly.

“I like coffee that needs to be cut with a knife,” he told her.

She was amazed at the difference it made when he smiled. He was an odd sort of man, reclusive and introverted. But she sensed tragedy about him. Great tragedy.

Her eyes became that odd opaque shade that indicated she was seeing things far away and back in time. She poured his coffee and put it in front of him. She sat down with her own. Her expression was troubled.

He was quick. He knew about her special gifts. “You know things about me,” he said quietly.

“Yes,” she confessed.

“And not gleaned from any conventional source.”

“That’s also true.” She looked at him with true compassion. “I’m so sorry, for what happened to you.”

His face hardened for a moment and then suddenly relaxed. He stared into the black coffee. “I’ve never spoken of it,” he replied quietly. “My parents are both dead, and I had no siblings. I have a cousin or two spread around in the Lakota and Northern Cheyenne reservations. Nobody close. Not anymore.”

“Losing the child was the worst of it,” she said in a soft monotone, her eyes far away. “She lied to you.” Her face tautened. “But it wasn’t your fault,” she said suddenly, staring right into his shocked eyes. “He was drinking...”

He drew in a sharp breath.

“You didn’t know,” she said, nodding. “You should check the police report. It was why he wrecked the car. He didn’t mean to kill her, or himself.”

“I chased them,” he gritted.

“Of course you did. You were young and in love, and she’d hurt you. It’s not a good thing, but it’s a human thing. It was a mistake. But you’re still punishing yourself for it. What sort of life is that?” she asked gently.

He bit his lower lip, almost hard enough to draw blood.

“I know. You don’t speak of such matters to anyone. But I’m...not like other people,” she faltered. She swallowed. “I know things. I see things. I’m outside, looking in. I don’t belong to this world, except in a disassociated fashion. I’m an outcast. Like you,” she added with a sad smile.

He looked at her with his true face, the one he never let show. It was vulnerable and still and sad. “Her cousin told me the child was mine. She was seven months pregnant, but she didn’t want me. She wanted him. He beat her, abused her...treated her like dirt. It didn’t matter. She wouldn’t leave him. I couldn’t make her see sense. He came to her house and saw me, and ordered her into the car. He jerked her in, with no consideration for her condition, and sped off. I thought...he was going to hurt her. She had my child inside her. I chased them, trying to save her.” His eyes closed. “He hit the side of the bridge. It was made of wood and the car went through it. They dropped into the river, far below. They found the bodies downstream the next day.”