Six-Gun Investigation Read online

  Zane eyed Anna, wondering why she was pushing so hard to get Sarah’s things. This was the third time she’d asked for them. It was possible her interest in her sister’s belongings was innocent. His gut told him differently however. He was pretty sure her interest had to do with whatever she wasn’t telling him. For that reason if no other, he wasn’t about to let her get her hands on them, not before he’d had a chance to study them himself.

  He’d glanced at the crime scene report this morning. The suitcase had yielded nothing significant. Sarah’s purse, as expected, had Sarah’s DNA and fingerprints on it, but no others.

  “You can come to the police station,” he said evenly. “I’ll let you get a dress, but that’s all.”

  “Why can’t I have the suitcase—and her purse and whatever else she brought with her? She’s…she was my sister.” Tears welled in her eyes.

  Zane told himself he wasn’t moved by her distress. Then he called himself a liar.

  “They’ve obviously been released by the crime lab. Please.”

  “They haven’t been released by me.”

  Irritation replaced sadness in her olive-green eyes. She took a long breath and straightened to her full height. “Then I’ll take one dress, Lieutenant.”

  ANNA SAT in the tiny viewing room next to the casket. She’d agreed to have a short viewing before the funeral. It gave her a chance to observe the townspeople as they came in to pay their respects. She wondered if Sarah would think she was perverse. She doubted it. Sarah would probably encourage her to thumb her nose at the curiosity-seekers and gossips.

  Organ music droned from discreet speakers as a low chatter filled the room. Anna smiled stiffly as Donna Hendricks reached for her hand.

  “Please accept my deepest condolences,” Donna said as Leland approached.

  “Anna, dear,” he said, reaching for her other hand.

  Donna shot him a look filled with daggers and let go of Anna’s hand. “Excuse me, dear,” she said, never taking her eyes off Leland. “It just got stuffy in here.”

  “Anna, you shouldn’t be staying in that rat-trap excuse for a hotel. Why don’t you come stay at the estate with me?”

  Anna gaped at him. He’d been completely uninterested in her all these years, and now he wanted to act like the concerned stepdad? “Thank you, Leland, but I don’t think so. I’m fine at the inn.”

  Zane stepped into the room. He had on a charcoal gray pinstriped suit with an impossibly white shirt and a gray and deep red tie. His brand-new dress shoes were polished to a mirror finish. He looked like a successful young businessman. Like a million dollars.

  His gaze met hers and he sent her a sympathetic smile that lit his face and promised her that everything would be fine now that he was here.

  But his gaze didn’t linger. He swept the room, studying each person. Zane wasn’t here to pay his respects. He was here to sniff out a killer.

  Jim McKinney and his wife appeared at the door. Jim held his Stetson in his hand. He was wearing a tan suit that looked a little too big for him, and those beautiful tooled-leather boots. Stella had on an expensively tailored dress in a deep teal blue. Her hair and makeup were perfect.

  Anna glanced at Zane, who was frowning at his parents. Did he know how much he looked like his father? Both men were ruggedly handsome, with the kind of face that only gets more interesting with time. By looking at Jim, she knew exactly what Zane would look like in twenty-five years.

  She was positive Zane had no idea how blatantly his love for his dad was etched on his face, not to mention his anger at him.

  As Jim and Stella approached Anna, she tore her gaze away from Zane and concentrated on the two of them.

  “Anna, I’m so deeply sorry about your sister,” Jim said, bowing over her hand and kissing it.

  A choked sound came from Stella. Her expression reflected stiff disapproval.

  When Anna looked at her, she pasted a sad smile on her face.

  “Hello, dear. That dress looks nice, and the scarf is an interesting choice. I’m sorry we didn’t have time to go into Dallas to shop.”

  “Thank you again, Mrs. McKinney. It was so nice of you to help me find some clothes.”

  Behind Jim and Stella were several people Anna didn’t know. She shook their hands and accepted their condolences graciously. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Rosa Ramirez come in.

  Rosa’s presence pretty much completed the circle. It was highly likely that one of the people in this room right now had murdered her sister, and probably her mother, too.

  Suddenly the room was too warm, too close. She felt penned in. Her mouth went dry and her hands started trembling.

  Zane saw Anna’s increasing agitation from across the room. Had she seen something that distressed her? Or had the small room and the crowd gotten to her? All the color had drained from her face and her eyes darted toward the arched doorway like a horse ready to bolt.

  He pushed through the crowd and reached her side just as the funeral director appeared and began to herd the guests to the chapel for the service.

  “How’re you doing?” Zane whispered.

  He saw her throat move as she swallowed. “I’m okay, I guess. I just realized that this little room was full of suspects. That one of these people probably killed Sarah. It just spooked me.”

  A little color returned to her face as the room slowly emptied.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you around to the family room. This will all be over soon.”

  He put his hand at the small of her back and she leaned close as he guided her through the crowd and out of the room.

  Her evocative scent—a faint aroma of strawberries— filled his head and her innocent trust filled his heart. It was getting harder and harder for him to remember that she was the daughter of the woman who’d destroyed his father’s career and ripped his family apart.

  After he made sure she was settled behind the lattice privacy screen, he headed back to the chapel and stood near the rear doors. He’d observed each person as they entered the viewing room. Now he wanted to study them as they filed out after the service.

  It was a long shot to think that the killer would give himself away by his expression, but Zane never took chances, and he never missed an opportunity to study his suspects.

  The funeral director slipped in beside him as the organ music faded and Reverend Ainsworth began to speak. His generic message centered around the value of human life, the sorrow surrounding the death of so young a woman and her unborn child and the solace found in faith.

  Mr. Graves stepped closer to Zane. “Lieutenant McKinney, is the killer here?” he asked in a hushed, excited whisper.

  Zane spared him a censorious glance. “Probably,” he muttered. “I need you to bring Anna to me as soon as the service is over. Don’t let anyone stop her to talk.”

  Graves’s eyes glittered with excitement. “Of course. Are you going to arrest someone?”

  “No,” Zane said evenly, meeting his gaze. His don’t-mess-with-me glare must have worked, because Graves turned white as a ghost and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

  “Right. Certainly. I’ll just—”

  Zane’s gaze didn’t falter.

  Graves backed out through the doors and scurried down the hall, his soft-soled shoes squeaking on the hardwood floor. Zane reached out and closed one of the double doors. He wanted every single person to have to walk past him to get out of the room.

  Reverend Ainsworth didn’t waste any time. Within a couple of minutes he wound up the service and nodded at the organist. Funereal music swelled as he raised his arms, indicating that the people should rise and file out.

  Zane straightened. His eyes studied each and every guest as they walked past him. Most of them eyed him with curiosity. The rest—Leland, Donna, Rosa, his mother and dad, the mayor—either sent him a questioning look or didn’t meet his gaze at all. Richie the desk clerk hadn’t attended.

  About the time the last person exited, Graves ap
peared with Anna. Zane assessed her quickly and thoroughly. She was pale but composed.

  “Thank you, Mr. Graves. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help,” she said. Her voice started out small but gained strength quickly.

  Zane nodded at him and slipped his arm around Anna’s waist. “I’ll drive you to the graveside.”

  She nodded. He guided her out the back door to the covered drive. He shook his head at the hearse driver and led her to his car.

  As he started his car and maneuvered it directly behind the hearse, he glanced at her. “Are you doing all right?”

  She played with the clasp on her purse. “I’m fine,” she said. “I’m sad—” Her voice threatened to break. She swallowed, then continued. “I’m sad, but at least she’s at rest, and she will be beside our mother.”

  Zane clamped his jaw against the surge of compassion that rose in his chest. Her words were trite—something any experienced funeral attendee might murmur to the bereaved—but he knew by her tight, small voice that she was sincere. In fact, he was dismayed to discover how well he knew her in such a short time.

  He didn’t want to know her. Didn’t want to feel her grief and pain the way he was right now. Didn’t want to care what happened to her. He just wanted to catch the person responsible for her sister’s death, wind up this case and get back to his life.

  His life. He’d always thought he had it made. An ideal job as a lieutenant in the Texas Rangers, a nice apartment, friends and an unending supply of gorgeous Texas beauties who were more than willing to go out with him on his terms—casual fun and no strings. So why did he suddenly feel empty? Unfulfilled? Even lonely?

  As he followed the hearse into the cemetery, he kept one eye on Anna. Her gaze never left the hearse as it drove around to the freshly dug plot.

  Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and those luscious lips that had quivered under his were compressed with barely controlled grief. How had he ever thought she was mousy?

  Zane felt something in the center of his chest—something a lot like pain. He longed to hold her, to protect her and make sure that nothing ever hurt her again.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  Scowling at his ridiculous thoughts, he parked behind the hearse and walked around to open Anna’s door. He held out a hand to help her from the car. She took it and stood right in front of him.

  “Zane, thank you—for everything,” she said softly.

  He dipped his head slightly, until his breath lifted a strand of her hair. “Just doing my job,” he muttered as he led her to the row of chairs placed beside the grave.

  “I’m going to stand back and watch everyone.”

  Anna met his gaze briefly, a flicker of panic crossing her face like the shadow of a butterfly. Her lips parted as if she were about to say something, then she pressed them together and nodded.

  He positioned himself just on the other side of Lou Ann’s grave—the perfect position to watch the guests. Glancing down at her headstone, he saw a bouquet of dead roses. It had a card attached to it.

  The card and the roses were dry, unlike the dirt and grass around the headstone. The flowers had been placed there since midnight. His pulse hammered as he debated the advisability of disturbing possible evidence or calling attention to himself.

  It only took him a second to decide that he needed to get that note before someone else noticed it.

  Casually but quickly, he bent down and plucked it from the withered bouquet. He wanted to pick up the flowers, too, but he didn’t want to draw that much attention to either himself or to Anna’s mother’s grave.

  Without looking at the note, he stuck it in his pocket. Then he dug out his cell phone and called Deputy Spinoza, who was on duty at the police station.

  “Spinoza, is there a florist in town? Check with them. Get the names of everyone who has bought red roses in the past six months. Ask them how long it takes long-stemmed roses to die, because they look like they’ve been dead a long time. After you talk to the florist, get out here to Lou Ann Hendricks’s grave and collect these flowers as evidence. And don’t mention this to anyone.”

  He pocketed his cell phone and turned his attention to the arriving guests. The graveside service drew fewer attendees than the indoor service had. The skies were overcast and there was a hint of rain in the air. He hoped Spinoza could get the flowers before it rained.

  As the cars pulled up and people got out, Zane stepped about twenty paces away from Lou Ann’s grave. He wanted to see people’s reactions as they approached the most notorious gravesite in the cemetery and saw the dead bouquets that hadn’t been there the day before, and hadn’t been alive for a long time. He didn’t want them distracted by his presence.

  Leland Hendricks got out of his Lexus, smoothed his coat and tie and stepped carefully over to the row of chairs. As he approached, his gaze slid to Lou Ann’s grave, and his brows knit together in a frown. His eyes flickered toward Zane as he sat down next to Anna.

  Jim and Stella arrived in the same car, and both spotted Zane immediately. He nodded slightly at them. Jim’s gaze swept past Lou Ann’s grave and paused briefly on the dead roses. It made sense to Zane that his dad wouldn’t miss so obvious a clue. He ignored the irritating voice that whispered in his head—guilty, guilty.

  Stella’s face was a mask of long-suffering disapproval as she took in Lou Ann’s grave, flowers and all. But her attention quickly turned to Jim, and she tugged on his arm and whispered something to him. They sat in the second row.

  Donna and Rosa arrived together. Rosa’s black eyes darted toward Lou Ann’s grave and her expression indicated that she was faintly surprised. She quickly and surreptitiously crossed herself, then slid into the second row.

  Donna looked at Zane first, then at the grave. Her expression didn’t change, until she turned toward the chairs. She glared at the back of Leland’s head as she sat next to Rosa in the second row of chairs.

  About a dozen more folks showed up, but Zane didn’t know most of them. Both Deputy Enis and Deputy Burns were there. They sat in the last row, with their hands on their guns.

  Reverend Ainsworth kept the graveside service short. He soon wound up his last prayer, and everyone stood and began to disperse.

  Zane headed for Anna’s side as well-wishers lined up to speak to her. As soon as Zane got close enough, Anna tucked her hand inside his elbow.

  Leland stood and waved his arms. “Everyone! Everyone!” he shouted. “I’m having a light lunch—just finger food—at the estate. Please come by.”

  His gaze lit on Anna. “Anna, dear. Please come by,” he said. “Everyone will want to pay their respects. I don’t know why you didn’t have visitation last night, but that’s okay. We can make up for it at lunch.”

  Anna didn’t speak. Her fingers dug into Zane’s arm with surprising strength.

  “Sorry, Leland. There are some things I need to go over with her that can’t wait.”

  Leland’s face turned dark red. “Anna—?” It was less a question than an implicit command.

  She leaned closer to Zane. “I’m sorry, Leland. But as Sarah’s stepfather, I’m sure you can handle the guests. I have to concentrate my time and energy on finding her killer.”

  “But…but—” he sputtered. His glare demanded Zane’s cooperation, but Zane wasn’t about to subject Anna to something she so obviously didn’t want to do.

  He shook his head at Leland, then led Anna through the crowd, holding on to her as she endured the endless saccharine condolences and hugs.

  Finally they reached his car. He helped her into the passenger seat and climbed in the driver’s side and started the engine.

  “Thank you.”

  “Just doing my job,” he tossed out.

  Like hell, he countered to himself. He’d have liked to hear what everyone said to her, but the note in his pocket was already scorching the wool gabardine, and he knew its contents were more important than anything anyone would say to Anna in his presence.r />
  Still, that wasn’t the real reason he’d rescued her from a long drawn-out afternoon of feigned sympathy and curious looks.

  It was obvious that she was only seconds away from her breaking point. Her sad eyes and straight, vulnerable shoulders ripped at his heart.

  “I know,” she said, her voice quavering, “but I don’t think I could have stood it much longer.”

  “I got that impression.” He stopped in front of the double doors to the Matheson Inn. “Here we are. I’ll walk you to your room.”

  Her room. She cringed at the idea of being in there alone with her thoughts, her regrets, her guilt. But it was obvious Zane was itching to get away from her. So she nodded.

  As she dug in her purse for the key to her room, Zane’s warm hand left her back and he fished his cell phone from his pocket. It vibrated in his hand.

  She unlocked her door and stepped into her room, feeling a twinge of relief that it looked just like it had when she’d left this morning.

  “McKinney.” Zane spoke into his phone.

  She set her purse and keys down on the bedside table.

  The spring-loaded tension of the morning dissolved into tremors. She sunk to the bed, exerting superhuman strength to keep from totally collapsing, her limbs were shaking so.

  “Hey, Jon. What’s up?” He paused, listening. “You did? Just now?”

  He met her gaze, and the smoky-blue of his eyes turned to storm clouds. His jaw clenched. “Yeah, right here.”

  A shard of fear lodged in her chest. Whatever Dr. Evans was telling him, it wasn’t good. “Sarah’s autopsy?” she choked out.

  Zane didn’t answer, but he stepped closer to her, his expression grim. “Are you sure? Sorry. Of course you are.”

  He took a sharp breath. “Right. Don’t give that information to anyone. Not even the deputies.” He paused. “I’m sure. I will, if she needs it. Thanks, Jon.”

  He disconnected and pocketed his phone, his gaze directed somewhere toward his shoes.

  “It is Sarah, isn’t it?” She moved to stand, but her legs wouldn’t hold her up.

  Zane put a hand on her shoulder. Its warmth seeped through to her bones. “You need to relax. You’re exhausted. I want you to promise me you’ll rest.”