Convictions (15 page)

"Mr. Elliott, would you answer the question?" the sheriff asked in a way that told Hank he'd been trying to get his attention for more than a few moments.

"I'm sorry. What?" Hank asked, drawing his attention back to Jordan.

"Did you know Ms. Holcomb before she came to Judge Kincaid's ranch?"

Hank shook his head. "I'd never seen her before that day."

The interrogation was bringing back bad memories— memories of being questioned about a crime he had known nothing about until after the fact. Surely he didn't have to worry about being accused of killing this woman—she was basically a stranger. Hank had no motive. But Sheriff Jordan was looking anything but appeased by his answers.

The arrival of three more vehicles put an end to the questions. For now. Hank had an idea he'd be seeing more of the sheriff.

"Why don't you wait in your vehicle while I talk to the forensics team?" the sheriff suggested.

"I'd like to go up to Winnie Canyon to see how my men are doing," Kincaid said.

"I'd like to go, too," Hank said, jumping at the chance to get away. Besides, he wanted to make sure his sister was all right. He hadn't liked the way she'd cozied up to Barton.

Sheriff Jordan shook his head. "You and Ms. Kincaid have to stay here." He turned to the judge. "You can leave, though, sir. Your daughter and Mr. Elliott can wait in my vehicle."

"But—" Kincaid began.

"I'm sorry," Jordan interrupted. "They were the ones who found the body. Forensics might have some questions for them."

"We'll be fine, Dad," Olivia said. "I know you're anxious to see if they've gotten the cattle moved."

Indecision crossed the older man's lined face, but finally he nodded. "I'll be back." He gave his daughter a quick hug and turned to Hank. "Keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn't find any more bodies."

"Dad." Olivia scowled.

Despite the worry gnawing at his gut, Hank smiled at the man who'd given him a chance and his trust. "I will, sir. Could you check on my sister? Make sure she's okay?"

Kincaid slapped Hank's shoulder. "I will."

"My vehicle's unlocked. Wait in the backseat." Sheriff Jordan motioned to his SUV.

Hank assisted Olivia into the back of the sheriff's SUV, then got in on the other side. With less than two feet separating them in the confined space, Hank was acutely aware of Olivia's presence, of the flowery shower soap she'd used and the slight herbal fragrance of her clean hair. When was the last time he'd savored the scent of a woman? Too long, if his body's reaction was any indication.

He shifted in his seat, hoping Olivia wouldn't notice his restless movement.

"Why couldn't I have waited until we got back to the ranch?" Olivia suddenly asked.

"What?"

She turned her whole body toward him. "If I had waited to use the bathroom at the house, I wouldn't have found the body, and we wouldn't be here right now. We could be out helping move the cattle."

"And Melinda would still be missing," Hank said quietly.

He sensed more than saw her embarrassment.

"You're right. It's selfish of me to be thinking about that when Melinda is dead."

Hank shrugged. "Life goes on. You're worried about your father."

"He's worried about the men and the cattle, and now there might be a murderer on the ranch."

Hank hadn't thought of it that way, but he supposed everyone would be suspect, including Olivia and himself. Could someone from the ranch have killed Melinda?

As if reading his mind, Olivia said, "It's hard to imagine someone around here being a murderer." She seemed to shrink into herself.

"Just because the body was found on your father's land doesn't mean someone who works here killed her. Maybe someone figured this would be a good place to dispose of the body, hoping it wouldn't be found."

Olivia remained silent, but he could almost hear the cogs in her head turning. Finally she said, "That makes sense. If the killer buried the body, he probably thought no one would ever find it. That's usually a dry creek bed, but with the rains, the water could have swept away the dirt covering her." She shook her head. "I thought it was safe out here. But now there's Melinda's murder, and then there's the skeleton that was found just over the Wyoming state line a few days ago."

"What skeleton?"

"A woman. She died over six years ago, at least that's what the sheriff said. When he told us about it, they hadn't learned anything yet." She paused. "I'm just being paranoid. But that's par for the course lately." She laughed, but Hank could hear the effort behind it.

"You have a right to be," he said.

"No, I don't. This isn't Chicago, and the man who stalked and attacked me is behind bars. He's serving ten to fifteen years." She touched his arm, startling him. "This isn't who I am."

Hank tried to see her expression in the dim light. "Then who are you?"

He could feel her gaze on him, and then she abruptly turned away to stare out the window. "I wish I knew."

The pain filling the soft statement made Hank want to offer her comfort, like he had after she'd found the body. But he suspected she'd resist this time. He'd seen young men, almost boys, in prison after they'd been brutalized. They, too, had lost themselves. Some never found their way back.

In the silence that followed, Hank tried to divert his thoughts from his companion. Six years of abstinence made the temptation that much more compelling. However, despite the hell he'd been living in, the morals his parents had drilled into him remained. Besides, Olivia wasn't someone a man picked up in a bar for an easy lay. The lust he felt was threaded with concern and protectiveness. A dangerous combination for a man like him.

The minutes crawled by in uneasy silence until Sheriff Jordan returned and climbed into the front seat. He switched on the overhead light.

Hank blinked in the sudden brightness.

The sheriff turned so he could look at them. "It looks like she was murdered five or six days ago. The ME will know more after the autopsy." He removed his wide-brimmed hat and rubbed his brow, leaving behind a smudge of dirt. "Do you know of anyone who might have had a grudge against her?"

"We went to school together, but I hadn't seen her in over ten years until the day she came out to the ranch to interview me," Olivia said. "I don't know anything about her personal life."

"What did you think of the story she did on you?" Jordan asked a little too casually.

"As little as possible."

Hank frowned at her sharp reply.

"Come again?"

"I wasn't happy about it."

"You didn't have to agree to the interview."

"If I hadn't, she would've printed her own version of what happened to me in Chicago," Olivia snapped. "I felt like I had to do it, but I wasn't happy with the final product."

"Were you angry enough to kill her?"

Olivia narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaw. "No, Sheriff, I was not angry enough to kill her."

"She's Judge Kincaid's daughter," Hank spoke up, more than a little irritated with the sheriff's heavy-handed interrogation.

"I'll be talking to the judge, too. Standard procedure," Sheriff Jordan said flatly.

"It's okay, Hank," Olivia said, making a visible effort to calm herself. "He's right."

Jordan shifted his attention to Hank. "Ms. Holcomb was a beautiful woman, and you've been in a prison a long time. Maybe she turned you down and things got out of control."

Hank sneered. "And maybe Ms. Holcomb didn't tempt me even after six years in prison."

"You don't like women?"

"Not self-centered ones like Ms. Holcomb."

"You have standards, Mr. Elliott?"

"You're badgering him, Sheriff," Olivia cut in, clearly irritated.

"He's not on the witness stand, Ms. Kincaid. I'm just trying to get some answers."

"By insulting him? Keep to the subject of Ms. Holcomb's death."

Jordan rolled his eyes. "As an ADA, I thought you'd be on my side."

Olivia smiled with saccharine sweetness. "I'm on the side of justice and equality."

Hank grinned. Before this moment, he'd had trouble imagining Olivia in a courtroom. Now, he had no problem seeing her in front of a judge and jury.

"As unbelievable as it sounds, I do still have
some
standards," Hank replied to the sheriff's question, his tone sarcastic.

The sheriff glared at him, then Olivia. "It's after one in the morning. We're all tired. Tomorrow, I want you two to come to the office and give your statements."

Hank and Olivia nodded.

"I'll give you a ride back to the ranch," Sheriff Jordan said as he maneuvered around to sit behind the steering wheel.

Olivia pointed to a bobbing set of headlights coming down the road toward them. "I think that's my father."

She got out of the SUV, and Hank followed her. The sheriff stepped out, too.

Kincaid braked to a halt and his door flew open.

"Olivia, Hank, get in."

The urgency in his voice caused Hank to clasp Olivia's arm and help her move more quickly toward her father's vehicle.

"What's going on, Judge?" Sheriff Jordan asked.

Kincaid's distressed gaze settled on Hank. "It's your sister. Her horse came back without her."

Chapter Eleven

The moment Judge Kincaid stopped his four-by-four at the mouth of Winnie Canyon, Hank jumped out and surged toward the horse trailer. Someone grabbed his arm, and Hank whirled around, fists raised to counter the interference. Kincaid's commanding voice stopped him.

"Hold on, Hank. You can't just go off half cocked. You won't do yourself or your sister any good."

"Damn it, she's probably hurt out there somewhere." Hank made an encompassing wave toward the darkness.

"And it won't help her to get yourself lost or hurt."

"Dad's right, Hank," Olivia said, coming around to stand beside him. "You need to coordinate your search with the other men."

Hank fought the impotent anger and fear coursing through his veins. If something happened to Dawn just when he'd found her again...

But the judge and Olivia were right. He took a deep breath and found himself trembling, but not from the cold.

"We'll find her," Kincaid said, releasing him. "Half of the men are getting the cattle moved over to Barker Flats, while the other half are working in pairs to find your sister. You and I will ride together." He turned to Olivia. "You stay here in case Dawn shows up."

She opened her mouth to argue but abruptly closed it. What else could she do? She nodded once, feeling useless.

"Stay in my car and lock the doors." Judge Kincaid held up a finger to punctuate his order. "The person who killed Melinda is still out there somewhere."

Although Hank didn't like the sudden apprehension on Olivia's face, he understood why the judge had warned her. She needed to be on her guard.

What if the killer was nearby and had already claimed a second victim—Dawn?

He fought back the clawing panic. He had to keep a clear head if he was going to be of any use in finding his sister.

Olivia slanted Hank a glance, then asked her father, "Is the gun under the driver's seat?"

The older man nodded somberly.

"I'll be okay," she assured him. She looked at Hank, then back at her father. "Be careful."

"We will." Her father kissed her brow and nudged her toward his SUV.

Hank caught her worried expression as she took one last look at them. He tried to give her a smile but knew it fell flat.

Hank paused by the horse tied to the side of the trailer, its head hanging down. This was the mare Dawn had been riding. He swiftly and efficiently ran his hands over the horse's rain-soaked hide and down each muddy leg. Heat emanated from the right front knee, and Hank could feel the swelling.

"She's lame," he pronounced. "Probably stepped in a hole."

"Which means your sister was more than likely thrown," Kincaid said. "And maybe hurt."

"Better than being murdered," Hank said grimly.

Kincaid nodded, equally grave. He handed Hank a flashlight, which he tucked into his waistband. Then the two men quickly backed out the two horses that remained in the trailer. After tightening the cinches, they mounted up.

Suddenly torn, Hank peered through the night at the dim outline of Olivia in the vehicle. By searching for Dawn, Hank was leaving Olivia vulnerable to the at-large killer. His stomach knotted.

Then Olivia raised her hand and nodded to him as if reading his thoughts and wanting to reassure him.

"Olivia will be all right," Kincaid said, gazing at his daughter. "She's a fighter." The last was spoken with more than a note of pride.

Hank couldn't argue with that. Olivia Kincaid was turning out to be more than he had bargained for. But whether that was good or bad, he had yet to decide.

He allowed the judge to lead the way through the inky darkness broken only by their flashlight beams. As they rode deeper into the canyon, the darkness thickened. They could hear the muted rushing of the swollen creek less than a hundred yards away.

For over an hour they rode through the canyon, calling out Dawn's name. The sound of the fast-moving stream faded, and the quiet grew oppressive within the confines of the steep walls surrounding the mountain valley.

With each passing minute Hank's frustration grew. The night hampered them, and they could've ridden within a yard of an injured Dawn and not even seen her. When they reached the far end of the canyon, they made a wide arc and swung around. Their flashlights cut through the darkness but illuminated nothing but rocks, bushes, grass, and the occasional mouse.

As they started back toward the canyon entrance, Hank yelled, "Dawn!"

There was no answering shout.

He swore under his breath. "Why'd you let Dawn ride with the men?" Hank, exasperated and cold, asked the judge.

"She wanted to help."

"So did your daughter, but you didn't let her."

"Her leg is still healing." Kincaid nudged his horse alongside Hank's. "I know you're worried, but Dawn is an adult. She can make her own decisions."