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Authors: India Masters

AlmostHome (14 page)

BOOK: AlmostHome
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Haley’s brow puckered. Should she? Her gut told her she
probably should but her heart wouldn’t let her. “No, sir. Leastways not at this
time.”

The deputy turned to Conner. “What do you say, boy? You take
that money?”

Conner straightened, looked straight into her eyes and said,
“Yes, sir. I surely did. Broke in the back door. Knew where she hid her grocery
money. Was gonna take the computer too. And that fancy TV. Would have, too, if
her hired man hadn’t come along.”

“Good enough for me.” The deputy pulled a set of cuffs from
his duty belt and secured Connor’s hands behind his back. “Connor Kilpatrick,
you’re under arrest for Breaking and Entering and Petty Theft. You have the
right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say may be used
against you in a court of law…” He continued the Miranda warning as he led
Conner out of the house.

Haley and Wyatt followed, watching from the porch as the
deputy put her brother in the backseat of the cruiser. “Jesus. He’s more scared
of Rafe Winslow than he is of jail.”

“Well, hell.” Haley stuffed her shirt into the waistband of
her jeans. “You can take it back if you want. The proposal. I wouldn’t blame
you if it did.”

Wyatt went to her and wrapped his arms around her. “That’s a
damn fool thing to say. Of course I don’t want to take it back. Look at me,
sweet pea.” She tipped her head up, searched his face, sure she’d see regret
but she didn’t. “I love you and I want to marry you. You feel the same, right?”
She nodded. “Then I don’t want to hear any more about calling anything off.
Besides, all this excitement keeps life interesting.”

Haley snorted. “I don’t know about you, but I could dang
sure live with a little less excitement in my life.”

Wyatt wiggled his brows. “Well now, I reckon that depends on
what kind of excitement we’re talking about.”

Haley reached for his hat, tossed it on the couch. “I like
the way you think, cowboy.”

“I’m glad you do.” He kissed her, then, “Come on, darlin’,
let’s go finish what we started. I’ll race you to the top of the stairs.”

* * * * *

The next morning, Haley mulled over the conversation she’d
had with Conner before he took the blame for stealing from her. He was afraid
of his new roommate and she’d bet her last dollar Rafe Winslow took the money
she’d given her brother. She didn’t like the man, with his brawler’s knuckles
and torn earlobe, especially since her pa had sent him to keep an eye on
Conner. Which meant he was reporting back to Kent about both of them. Had Winslow
killed her dog? Conner sure thought so and if the man was capable of that, what
else might he be willing to do for her pa? Her mind flashed to her conversation
with Holden Petrie, who believed her aunt’s death was no accident, and figured
today was as good a day as any to check out the hayloft. Aunt Jack had been
gone for a while now so there was probably nothing to find but she had to look.
If for no other reason than to set her mind at ease.

She climbed the ladder, peering over the top. Dust particles
drifted in the air, lit by the sun coming through the window overlooking the
large paddock. Funny that window should be so clean. Who cleaned a window in a
barn hayloft? Unless there had been something there they didn’t want found.
Like fingerprints or blood. She hoisted herself over the top rung of the ladder
to take a better look around.

There was a light coating of dust on the window. Had the
sheriff brought in crime scene techs to go over the loft, or had he assumed
that Jack had taken a tumble off the edge? Haley could see why they’d think
that’s what had happened. Even the scuffmarks they’d found could be read as
Jack’s attempt to keep from falling. Had her aunt been the kind of woman who
would clean the glass in a hayloft window? Somehow she didn’t think so. Why
would she? She moved closer to give the window a thorough inspection. What the
hell? There was a dark substance between the cracked caulking and one of the
panes of glass. She pulled out her pocketknife and was just about to dig the
stuff out when she heard Wyatt’s truck pull up in the yard.

She went to the edge of the hayloft. “I’m in here,” she
yelled.

The truck door slammed and Wyatt appeared a few seconds
later. “What are you doing up there?” He gave her a wicked smile as he crossed
to the ladder and started to climb.

Haley shook her finger at him. “Never you mind what you’re
thinking, cowboy. I come up here looking for evidence that Aunt Jack was
scuffling with somebody before she fell.” That sobered him quick as a hiccup.

“And?”

“And I think I found something.” She pointed to the window.
“Does it strike you as odd that somebody would Windex a hayloft window? ‘Cause
it strikes me as odd.”

Wyatt’s brow puckered. “Show me.”

Haley directed him toward the window. “See that crack there?
Looks like something dark dripped down there. Could be dirt but it could be
blood, too. Do you know if anybody went over the hayloft?”

“Don’t know. What say we call the sheriff and ask?”

“Hey. Mable. This is Wyatt Brody. Is he in?” Wyatt explained
to the sheriff what they’d found then disconnected. “He says get outta the
loft. He’s coming out.”

Half an hour later, the sheriff arrived and took a look
around. His expression grave, he made his way to the front porch where Haley
and Wyatt sat waiting. “Could be blood. I called for the crime scene techs.
They’ll be here later this afternoon. In the meantime, nobody goes into the
hayloft, understood?”

Haley nodded. “Yes, sir.”

It was almost dark by the time the crime scene people
arrived but before long the sheriff reported back to Haley and Wyatt that
they’d not only confirmed the substance was blood, they’d also found an earring
firmly lodged in a crack between the floorboards. “There was blood on it. With
any luck, they’ll be able to get a DNA profile. Looks like Holden was right,
Jack probably was pushed.” He frowned at Haley. “This puts a whole other slant
on somebody killing your dog, Miss Kilpatrick. Best you beef up security around
here.”

A chill went through Haley. Aunt Jack was murdered and
Haley’s money was on her daddy having something to do with it.

* * * * *

With Wyatt off to a cattle auction, Haley decided the time
was ripe to go visit her brother. When she’d called the police department, they
told her Conner had been bailed out by none other than Rafe Winslow himself.
Maybe it was time to do a little prying into Winslow’s background. He had a
split earlobe. The crime scene people had found a bloody earring. Winslow was a
friend of their pa. Any way she added it up, Conner’s roommate came out as a
likely candidate for shoving her aunt out of the hayloft.

The first thing she noticed when she arrived was that
Conner’s truck wasn’t there. Of course, that didn’t mean Winslow hadn’t taken
it. He struck her as the kind of man who took what he wanted. She hopped out of
her own vehicle and stomped across the porch to make sure whoever was inside
heard her coming.

The door swung open and Winslow greeted her with a deviant
smile, his gaze roaming over body like he owned her. “Conner here?”

“Nope. Had to make a run into town. Should be back soon if
you’re of a mind to wait.”

Haley shrugged, praying she didn’t look as unnerved as she
felt. “Sure. Why not?” When she stepped across the threshold and the door
closed behind her, Haley couldn’t control the shudder that ran up her spine. If
she wasn’t in the presence of pure evil then God was a possum. She sat at the
end of the couch, knees together, and waited for Winslow to take a seat. “So,”
she said, when he plopped down at the other end of the tattered sofa. “Conner
had any luck finding work?”

Rafe shrugged. “Not so’s you’d notice. I reckon he’s
counting on you to give him a job.”

Haley leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “My
foreman handles the hiring. It’ll be his decision.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “Well, that don’t sound too
charitable, if you don’t mind me saying so. What with Conner being your brother
and all.”

Haley stiffened, narrowing her eyes at him. “I do mind you
saying. I’ve supported Conner and my pa with my rodeo winnings since I was old
enough to earn a purse. I reckon I done my share and then some. Conner’s a
grown man. Time he earned his keep.”

Rafe laughed. “Your pa ain’t gonna like that.”

“Too bad for him. How is it you know so much about my pa’s
likes and dislikes?”

Winslow stretched out his legs, propping his feet on the
battered coffee table. “Known Kent for a few years. Served time with him.”

“Uh-huh, got close with him, did ya?”

He hooted with laughter. “Not the way you’re thinking,
sugarplum. But we got along just fine. Got plenty in common.”

Haley rolled her eyes. “I don’t doubt that. Drinking,
fighting, and whoring most likely.” She glanced pointedly at his left ear.
“That how you got that split earlobe? Earring ripped out in a fight?”

Oh, he didn’t like that question one little bit. He puffed
up his chest and scowled at her.

“Ain’t no business of yours how it happened. Best tend to
your own knitting, girl.”

He was so smug. So sure he had all the answers. There was no
doubt in her mind that Winslow was in cahoots with her father. An alliance made
in hell if ever there was one. He’d killed her precious Snoop, she knew it deep
down in her bones and the anger and pain washed over her like a cold, acid
rain. Hatred killed the soul, she knew that. Confronting a man like Winslow was
foolhardy at best, dangerous at worst, but she couldn’t stop herself.

Haley stood, settled her bag over her shoulder. “Touchy,
touchy, Mr. Winslow. I only mention it because those are the things my pa does
best. He ain’t good for much else. Figure that’s true about his good friends
too. So if the two of you are figuring on trying to take what’s mine, you best
think twice. I ain’t nearly as sweet tempered as that dog you killed.”

Before she could blink, Winslow was on her, propelling her
back until she slammed into the wall. The hand around her throat tightened. He
nuzzled her ear and whispered, “Best you watch what you say, girl. Your pa’d be
real upset if something happened to you.” He licked her ear, laughing softly
when she shuddered in revulsion.

“My so-called pa couldn’t give two shits about me, Winslow,
and if you knew him as well as you think you do, you’d know that.”

He leaned back and looked her in the face. “Yup. Ol’ Kent
was right. You are a pretty little thing. Of course, he didn’t do you justice.”
His free hand skimmed up her side to cup her breast. He gave it a hard squeeze,
making her wince, then tore open her shirt. “But you’re wrong about him not
caring about something happening to you. Your daddy’s got plans for you,
sugarplum, and those plans include you and me.” He squeezed her breast again.

When Winslow leaned in and pressed a hard kiss to her lips,
she bit him. He jerked back, wiped blood from his lower lip and laughed.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that, little girl. Never thought
I’d be one to get hitched but I got an idea it’d be a pure pleasure to break
you in.” His hand skimmed lower and Haley swung, her fist connecting with his
temple, but it didn’t faze him. “Oh, you’re a firecracker, ain’t ya?” He
reached between them, fumbling with her belt. “I don’t reckon your pa will mind
if I take a little taste before the wedding.” Panic knifed through her at the
thought of this man touching her intimately. Bitter bile rose to her throat and
she choked it back. This was no time to whimper and cry like a little girl. She
had to fight, the alternative was unthinkable.

She would not allow Winslow to sully what she and Wyatt
shared. He wouldn’t be gentle like Wyatt. No, he’d hurt her, because men like
him enjoyed hurting women. With the clanking of her belt buckle, Haley screamed
and head-butted him.

Winslow staggered back, cursing as blood poured from his
nose. “You fucking little—” He backhanded her.

She’d been hit before but Winslow hadn’t made any attempt to
pull his strength and she could feel her jaw begin to throb as she slid down
the wall. Her butt hit the floor and she shook her head in an attempt to shake
off the disorientation. Shit, that hurt.

The door flew open and Conner rushed in. “Haley? What the
fuck?” Her brother took one look at her disheveled clothes and hurled the
twelve pack of beer at Winslow. “You son of bitch,” he howled. “That’s my
sister.” He lunged at her attacker. “Git, Haley. Get your ass home, now!”

Haley didn’t hesitate for a second. She raced out the door,
hurling herself into her truck. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she berated herself.
“What were you thinking, provoking him like that? You could have been raped or
worse.” A raspy sob escaped her. She’d never been so scared in all her life. If
Conner hadn’t come in when he did… Oh god, Conner. He was no match for a man
like Rafe Winslow. She had no choice, she had to call 9-1-1. She punched in the
numbers. “Oh lord, Wyatt’s gonna have my hide.” She hit the call button and
reported what Winslow had done to her and what he was probably doing to her
brother. The dispatcher asked if she knew where the local station was and
directed her to come in and file a report.

It was hours before she was able to head home to Kimble
County.

* * * * *

Wyatt looked up when Haley walked in. “Where ya been, sweet…
What the hell? What happened? Jesus, are you all right?” He was by her side in
a second, guiding her to the couch. “Who did this to you?”

There was no doubt she’d been assaulted. Her cheek was
swollen and bruised, her shirt was torn, and there were purple marks beginning
to form on her neck. And there was a hollowness to her gaze that scared the
shit out of him. Dear god, had she been…he didn’t even want to think the word
aloud. Tears streamed down her face and he pulled her close.

BOOK: AlmostHome
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