A Lawman's Justice (Sweetwater Ranch Book 8) (7 page)

Annette’s eyes narrowed a bit, her only reaction, before she turned her attention to Shelby. “I heard the news. Is it true? Is Marcel really dead?”

Shelby nodded and tried to stave off the images of his butchered body. “How’d you find out?”

When Annette got closer, Shelby could see her smeared mascara and reddened eyes. Annette had been crying. “It’s all over town. Someone called to tell me, but I had to see for myself.”

Seth made a skeptical sounding
humph
. “Why are you here?” he repeated.

Annette folded her arms over her chest and gave Seth a how-dare-you stare. “Marcel was a friend, and I wanted to make sure everything was being done to catch the monster who did this to him.”

“Your friend?” Shelby challenged. She ran her gaze over Annette’s cream-colored silk top and skirt. Considering that Marcel was a ranch hand, it didn’t seem as though he’d have much in common with Annette. Still, Annette had been crying.

“Yes, my friend,” Annette verified in a crisp tone. “We spoke at least once a month on the phone and met for lunch occasionally.”

Seth glanced at Shelby to see if she knew any of this, but she had to shake her head.

“Last time Marcel and I talked,” Annette went on, “he mentioned that your mother was in a psychiatric hospital. It’s good to hear Carla’s finally getting help for her mental problems. Please tell her I wish her the best.”

Now it was Shelby’s eyes that narrowed. “No way will I mention you to my mother.”

Though it was true about the psychiatric hospital. Equally true that her mother had issues she needed to work out. But her mother didn’t needed to hear that Shelby had seen one of the women Whitt had slept with. It’d be like rubbing salt in a still-open wound.

“After my father died, my mother found letters you’d written to him,” Shelby explained. “Letters begging him to leave my mother. I’m thinking she wouldn’t be very receptive to anything you have to say, especially any well wishes.”

And even though Shelby and her mother didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, they agreed Annette had tried her best to be a home wrecker. Of course, Jewell and Meredith fell into that same category, too.

“I’m not the enemy,” Annette said, drawing Shelby’s attention back to her. “We both know who the enemy is.” And with that, Annette looked at Seth.

No doubt because Jewell was the one with the enemy label. Apparently the zinger that Annette had flung about Carla wasn’t enough. Now the woman had to shoot arrows at Jewell through Seth.

But Jewell hadn’t committed this latest murder.

Nor had she killed the other two and put masks on their faces. However, Annette could have done that.

Well, maybe.

“I’m surprised you could find your way out here,” Shelby tossed out. “This cabin isn’t exactly on the beaten path.”

Annette didn’t respond to that, but her gaze drifted to the cabin. “I was here once with your father. I didn’t go inside,” she quickly added. “When I spent nights with Whitt, I preferred a...more upscale accommodation.”

“Then, why were you here at the cabin?” Seth asked, sounding very much like the FBI agent he was. “Because I don’t remember you mentioning that during any of your interviews.”

“No?” Annette certainly didn’t seem concerned that it was something she’d omitted. “Must have slipped my mind. But as I said, I didn’t even go inside the place. Whitt came here to pick up something, and I merely rode out here with him before we headed off to dinner.”

Annette might be telling the truth. After all, her DNA hadn’t been found inside. Still, there was plenty about the woman that Shelby didn’t trust, and she didn’t think that distrust was solely because Annette had been her father’s mistress.

“I’d like to see Marcel’s body,” Annette said. New tears watered her eyes. “To say goodbye.”

“Not possible,” Seth answered. “The ME and sheriff are in there right now, and the scene’s being processed.”

“But you were just inside,” she argued. “I saw you in the doorway when I drove up.”

Seth tapped the badge on his belt to give her a reminder she didn’t need—that he was the law. “Shelby looked inside so she could identify the body.”

Which hadn’t been necessary since Cooper had recognized Marcel. Still, it’d been something Shelby had had to do.

Annette blew out a long breath. “Can you call me when I can see the body?” she asked, pulling a business card from her purse. She handed it to Seth. “And can I have your number, as well? Just in case I remember something about Marcel that you might want to know.”

It wasn’t a totally out-there request since Seth was an FBI agent, but again Shelby questioned the woman’s motive. Why would Annette want to get in touch with Seth rather than someone in the sheriff’s office?

After staring at her for several more seconds, Seth finally took out a business card and handed it to her. “Don’t count on seeing Marcel before the funeral. You’re not family or law enforcement, so there’s no reason for you to view the body.”

“No reason other than saying goodbye to a friend,” Annette snapped. She looked at Seth’s card and stuffed it into her purse. “I didn’t want to have to wait to say my goodbyes at the funeral.”

It seemed petty to try to ban Annette from doing that, but since Shelby’s mother also might attend, maybe Marcel’s family would agree to a private service.

Annette started to leave but then stopped. When she turned back around, she looked at Seth. “I don’t suppose you know why Jewell wanted to see Marcel?”

Because Seth’s arm was right against hers, Shelby felt him tense. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

Annette didn’t smile, but it was close. “Jewell didn’t tell you? Interesting.”

Seth took a step closer to Annette. “Tell me what?”

“Marcel said Jewell’s lawyer had called him, that she wanted Marcel to visit her at the jail so they could chat. Oh, well.” Annette gave a dismissive wave of her hand, which, of course, didn’t dismiss anything. “Since Jewell’s lawyer told Marcel that it was important that she speak to him, I just figured she would have mentioned it to you. Since you’re her stepson and all.”

And with that new zinger, Annette got in her car and drove away.

“You really believe Jewell wanted to talk to Marcel?” Shelby asked him.

A muscle flickered in Seth’s jaw. He stormed toward the car so fast that Shelby had to run to catch up with him. “I’m not sure, but I’m about to find out.”

Chapter Seven

Seth hated the county jail. Hated that his mother was locked away in it. Now he had a new reason to hate it.

Because he was going to have to ask his mother about Annette’s allegations.

If Jewell had truly asked Marcel to see her just days before he was murdered, then Seth needed to find out why she’d wanted to talk to him. Since anything he asked would likely sound like an accusation, he was bracing himself for a conversation he didn’t want to have.

Especially a conversation that would take place in front of Shelby.

Seth had considered dropping her off at the sheriff’s office, but Cooper and his deputies had their hands full—again. Three dead bodies in less than twenty-four hours, and the two kidnappers who could give them answers were still nowhere to be found.

“You can wait with the guards if you want,” Seth suggested to Shelby as they went into the visitation area.

“After what happened last month, no thanks.”

Yeah. He got that. Last month, a rogue guard had tried to kill Shelby’s brother, Aiden, and Jewell’s half sister, Kendall, when they’d come to visit Jewell. There’d been a thorough investigation, and several guards had been replaced, but the memory was still fresh enough to put Seth, and apparently Shelby, on edge.

“Besides, I want to see Jewell,” Shelby added. “And yes, I know she won’t be friendly to me. Still, I want to hear what she has to say about Marcel.”

Seth had figured that was what Shelby would want, and the truth was he wasn’t comfortable having her out of his sight. And no, it wasn’t because of that stupid kiss. It was because someone was clearly gunning for her.

Someone who thought she was a traitor.

Or maybe it was Hance just using that traitor label to throw suspicion off himself. If so, it was working. If something happened to Shelby now, the cops likely would think it was tied to her father’s murder.

Not to Hance.

Once Seth had some answers from his mother, he really needed to search for anything in this investigation that would give them a much-needed break. That way he could put Hance, Annette, Meredith or anyone else involved behind bars so Shelby would be safe.

Shelby’s phone dinged the moment they sat down at the visiting table. “It’s a text from my brother,” she said reading from the screen. “He’s notified our mother of Marcel’s death. She wants to come home for the funeral.”

Seth didn’t know a lot of the details as to why Carla had committed herself to a mental hospital, but this wasn’t the ideal time for a homecoming. Especially since the funeral and trial would be around the same time.

“You think it’s wise for her to be here?” Seth asked.

Shelby shrugged. “Probably not, but I doubt I’ll be able to talk her out of it. I got my hardheadedness from her.” She added a smile. A real one. She probably didn’t know that it lit up her whole face and made Seth wish they had more things for her to smile about just so he could see it again.

But any smile possibilities were cut short when the guard escorted his mother into the room.

Jewell managed a smile, as well. A thin one. She was too pale again. Too thin, as well. And the stress of being here was starting to show. She took a seat behind the thick Plexiglas that separated them, and once he got a good look at her eyes, he could tell that she’d been crying.

“Seth,” she said. “Shelby.” She extended the smile to Shelby. “I heard about what happened. I’m so sorry. Are you both okay?”

“We’re fine,” Seth answered, but all three of them knew that was a lie. His mother no doubt could see the worry on his face. “Did you hear that Marcel Haggerty was murdered?”

Fresh tears came to Jewell’s eyes, and she nodded. “One of the guards told me. It’s true? Did someone stab him in Whitt’s cabin?”

“Yes.” And now for the question that might make those tears even worse. “We ran into Annette Prior at the cabin, and she said you’d asked to speak to Marcel.”

There was just a quick blink of surprise. “Oh,” Jewell said on a rise of breath. “And you think my request to see him has something to do with his murder?”

“Does it?” Shelby snapped.

Jewell pulled back her shoulders. “I don’t think so. Unless...”

“Unless?” Seth pressed when she didn’t continue. Mercy, he hoped this wasn’t anything he didn’t want to hear.

“Unless someone thought Marcel might tell me something I shouldn’t know,” Jewell finally said.

Obviously, that wasn’t the answer Shelby wanted, because she huffed. She probably wanted Jewell to make a full confession not only to Whitt’s murder but also to hiring someone to orchestrate these attacks. But Seth knew Jewell wouldn’t do anything to put him or her other children in harm’s way.

So what was going on here?

“Why’d you want to see Marcel?” he asked.

Jewell paused. A long time. “Marcel and I were friends back in school, and we’ve stayed somewhat friendly over the years. Phone calls, Christmas cards, that sort of thing. I just wanted to see him before the trial started.”

Hell. She was holding something back. He’d had plenty of experience with suspects and witnesses doing that during interviews. His mother’s shoulders were still stiff. She was dodging his gaze. And she was nibbling on her bottom lip.

“I don’t remember you ever talking about Marcel,” Seth pointed out.

“Well, I didn’t exactly talk a lot about my old life here in Sweetwater Springs.”

No. She hadn’t. In fact, he’d known it was too sore a subject to bring up so he hadn’t. Maybe that’d been a huge mistake.

Shelby moved to the edge of her chair, getting closer to the Plexiglas barrier. “Did you kill my father?” she came right out and asked.

Normally, this would be when he would have told anyone asking that question to back off. He would have protected Jewell at all cost, but Seth wanted to hear what she had to say.

Jewell didn’t dodge Shelby’s gaze. “Would you believe me if I said no?”

“No. But I’d
want
to believe you.”

His mother smiled. “Because of Seth.”

Oh, man. He hadn’t wanted his mother to pick up on that, and once again, Seth cursed that blasted kiss.

“There’s nothing going on between us.” Shelby cursed, too, out loud. “All right, maybe there is, but it’s something that shouldn’t be going on.”

Seth couldn’t agree more. Would that stop him from kissing her again?

Probably not.

But at least he would know it was another mistake before he jumped right into it.

“And whatever’s going on between Seth and me doesn’t affect what I have to do to get to the truth,” Shelby continued. “I need to find out who killed Marcel and those other two people. I need to know who thinks I’m a traitor and why people are dying because of me.”

Jewell moved closer, as well. “I honestly don’t know, but please believe me, if I had a way to stop this, I would. Not just for my son’s safety but for yours.”

Their gazes held for a long time, and Shelby finally nodded. “Thank you.” And it sounded genuine. She stood, rubbed her hands along the sides of her jeans. “I need to get out of here.”

“Take care of her,” Jewell whispered to Seth. “Take care of yourself, too.”

Seth and Jewell exchanged their usual I-love-yous and goodbyes, and since Shelby was practically bolting from the reception area, he went after her. He was slowed down some because he had to stop to retrieve his gun, so he didn’t catch up with her until she was already at the front entrance.

When Shelby looked back at him, she also had some tears in her eyes. Tears that she quickly swiped away.

“I didn’t want her to be that nice,” she said.

Seth understood that. It was easier to make Jewell out to be a monster if she acted like one. But she never had. “Come on. We’ll stop by the sheriff’s office and see if there’s any new information, and then I can take you home.”

She huffed. “Take me home,” Shelby repeated. “And then you can stash me away at some safe house. But I don’t want to be stashed away, Seth. I want to find out who’s killing these people.”

“I want to find that out, too,” he assured her as they stepped outside. “But not at the risk of getting you killed.”

He expected an argument, and one was definitely brewing, but movement near the truck he’d used to drive to the jail caught his attention.

“What is it?” Shelby asked.

Seth pulled her behind him and drew his gun. Normally, the sight of someone near his vehicle wouldn’t have sent his adrenaline soaring, but after three murders he wasn’t taking any chances.

Only a handful of vehicles were in the small parking lot. This area was reserved for visitors. The guards’ parking area was off to the right.

It took a few moments before the person moved again, and Seth finally saw the man. Tall, wearing dark clothes. A baseball cap partially obscured his face. He was right next to the truck but ducked when he spotted Seth.

Definitely not a good sign.

“Go back inside and wait with the guards,” Seth told Shelby, and then he started toward the man.

However, Seth had only made it a few steps when he heard a sound he definitely didn’t want to hear.

A blast. Not from a gunshot, either.

It was much louder. And the truck exploded in a fireball.

The impact threw Seth back, and he landed right against Shelby. That was when he figured out she hadn’t gone back in the building after all. That she was outside where she could be an easy target.

Since Seth was already falling anyway, he pulled Shelby to the ground with him and tried to cover her as best he could. Hell. Here she was, right back in the middle of danger.

“He’s getting away,” Shelby said, trying to lift her head. She pointed in the direction of the flames that had engulfed the truck.

Yes, the moron was definitely getting away. Or rather trying to. Seth levered himself up, took aim and fired. With the bomber on the run, Seth had known it would be a difficult shot, but the bullet slammed into the guy’s shoulder, and he tumbled to the ground.

“Wait here,” Seth told Shelby. “And this time I mean it.” He tossed her his phone. “Get inside and call the county sheriff’s office. Get someone out here right now.”

Once Seth was certain Shelby was inside, he hurried after the man he’d just shot. He wasn’t hard to find. The guy was on the ground twenty feet or so on the other side of the flaming truck. He was moaning and clutching his arm. Certainly not a pro because even though the injury didn’t look life threatening, he wasn’t doing much to get away.

“Don’t shoot me again,” the man snarled. “I surrender.”

Seth went closer, keeping his gun aimed at him, while he kept watch around him. Not just for another attacker but to make sure Shelby stayed put.

“Who are you?” Seth demanded.

“Norris Strand.” The guy groaned, added some profanity. “I need an ambulance now.”

He did, and the sheriff’s office would dispatch one. For now, though, Seth wanted some answers. The name didn’t mean anything to Seth, nor did he recognize the guy’s face.

“Why’d you blow up the truck?” Seth asked.

The man shook his head. “The timer malfunctioned.”

It didn’t take long for that to sink it, and it didn’t sink in well. This idiot hadn’t meant for the explosive device to go off until Shelby and Seth were inside the truck. It was supposed to have killed them.

Seth had to get his teeth unclenched before he could speak, and he put the gun right to Strand’s head. “Who hired you to do this?”

Strand looked away as if he might dodge the question, but Seth moved his gun slightly and pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into the ground right next to the guy’s head.

“Are you crazy?” Strand yelled.

“At the moment, yes. Now tell me who hired you, or the next shot might not go in the dirt.” It was a bluff, but as angry as Seth was, he figured he didn’t sound too stable.

In the distance, Seth heard the sound of police sirens. It wouldn’t be long now before the county deputies arrived.

Seth took aim again. “Who hired you?” he repeated.

“A man,” Strand finally said.

Seth fired another shot, this one even closer to Strand’s ear than the last one. “Who?” Seth yelled. “I want a name, and I want it now.”

Strand made a strangled, whimpering sound and put his hands over his ears. “He never said, but I recognized his picture from the newspapers. It was Marvin Hance.”

Of course.

He wasn’t exactly surprised, but Seth was unnerved that this idiot had given up his boss so easily. Maybe this was some kind of setup, but he’d take what he could get. It was enough to toss Hance back in jail and keep him there for a while.

Seth stepped back when two deputies came barreling out of a cruiser. Both of them recognized Seth, probably because he’d bugged them enough about his mother’s trial. The deputies trained their guns on the wounded man.

“Anybody with him?” Deputy Hawks asked Seth.

“No one that I saw, but he said he’s working for Marvin Hance.”

Seth left it at that, figuring if the deputy couldn’t get Hance in fast enough for questioning, then Seth would call in the FBI. After all, this piece of dirt had just tried to kill a federal agent.

Deputy Hawks glanced back at the ambulance that had come to a stop in the parking lot and then at Shelby who was making her way toward them. Since Seth didn’t want her near Strand or the fire, he ran toward her, catching on to her arm and pulling her back inside.

There wasn’t a drop of color left in Shelby’s face, and she held out his phone. “It’s Cooper,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “They found another body.”

A hoarse sob tore from her mouth, and Shelby practically tumbled into his arms. “This time, it’s a woman,” she added. “And she was murdered in my house.”