It was the sheriff’s car. As it came closer she could make out two figures in the front seat.
Walt and Travis. Here for their daily visit.
Heck, this really should be routine to her by now, she acknowledged fatalistically. But every time she saw them coming, she knew the visit would be no more pleasant than their last and wondered what fresh surprises they might have to spring on her. Or if this would be it, the time they came to make an arrest.
She studied them carefully as they disembarked from the car, trying to prepare herself for what was to come. What she saw did nothing to ease her mind. Walt wasn’t quite smiling, but he seemed happy somehow in a way that made her distinctly uneasy.
Travis, on the other hand, didn’t seem happy at all. She hadn’t thought it possible for him to look at her with any more hatred than he’d been treating her to the past few weeks, but somehow he was managing it, his face red, his eyes burning with rage.
“Afternoon, Elena,” Walt said with false politeness.
“Sheriff. Travis,” she acknowledged, nodding to them each in turn.
Travis didn’t say a word in response, simply glaring at her with such undisguised fury her stomach sank even further.
Unlike his deputy’s unwavering focus, Walt made a show of glancing around the area. “Your new hand around? What’s his name again? Alvarez?”
Elena didn’t doubt for a second that he knew exactly what Matt’s name was. Not about to admit they had her on edge, she tried to keep her voice as even as possible and replied, “Yes, Alvarez. And no, he’s not here. He went into town for some paint. As you can see, we have some damage to repair around here.” She gestured toward the wall beside her.
Both men’s eyes flicked briefly to the wall, though they must have seen what was there when they pulled up. If they hadn’t already known. Travis’s mouth curved in a cruel smile, so much that she almost expected him to release a bark of laughter. Walt betrayed no reaction, his eyes revealing nothing as they glanced at it then returned to her.
“Looks like you had some trouble,” Walt said mildly.
“That’s right. Any chance you’d feel like investigating that?”
The sheriff simply shrugged. “If you didn’t see who did it, probably not much chance of figuring out who it was. Most likely just teenagers playing a prank.”
“Between this and what happened to my tires in town, the teenagers around here sure are busy,” she said drily. “I wonder what they’re going to have to pull before you do something about it.”
“If you don’t feel safe around here anymore, I’m sure you’ll feel a lot safer in jail,” Travis said. “All you have to do is tell us the truth about Bobby.”
Elena stared back at him. “I have told you the truth about Bobby.”
Travis’s face reddened further, his hands fisting at his sides. He took a step toward her. “You lying b—”
“Travis,” Walt cut him off without raising his voice. Travis seemed to regain control with visible effort, clamping his mouth shut and falling back into line at Walt’s side. His eyes, narrowed to slits, never moved from Elena’s face, his own remaining red.
“It’s a shame your hand isn’t here,” Walt continued calmly, his tone instantly making her wary. She almost would have preferred Travis’s open aggression to Walt’s lightly insinuating caginess. “You never did say how you met him.”
“He showed up when I needed him,” Elena said easily.
“Right after your husband was murdered.”
“Not quite,” she returned. “It was almost two weeks later.”
“And how did he just happen to show up right now, when you
needed
him?”
And just like that, she knew. He knew who Matt was, about their prior relationship. The trap Walt was laying for her was too obvious, Travis’s eagerness—the way he was practically salivating at the idea of catching her in a lie—too clear. She suddenly understood his fresh anger all too well, as a chill rolled through her, her belly tightening with fear. It was exactly as she’d worried about. They knew about her and Matt—and it looked just as bad as she’d known it would.
It would look even worse if she lied about it, as they plainly expected her to. Her only hope was to go on the offensive. “Someone sent him a newspaper story about Bobby’s death.”
“And why would he care about Bobby’s
murder?
” Walt asked, clearly making the distinction.
“Because we knew each other eight years ago. He was here in Western Bluff back then, working a summer for the Nolans. We dated that summer.”
Neither Walt nor Travis had an immediate response to that, and she saw that she’d caught them off-guard. A small sense of satisfaction pushed away some of the fear.
Travis soon regained himself, his expression hardening back into a sneer. “So your old boyfriend just happens to show up right after your husband’s murdered? You expect us to believe that’s a coincidence?”
“No, I don’t. I don’t believe it’s a coincidence at all. Someone sent him a newspaper story about Bobby’s death to get him to come here.”
Travis all but laughed. “Yeah, you!”
“It wasn’t me. I hadn’t had any contact with him in eight years. I had no idea where he even was.”
“But somebody else just happened to and decided he should know?”
“Evidently.”
“The man hasn’t been in contact with you for eight years, and one newspaper article is all it takes to get him to run back to town?”
There was only one answer she could give to that. “Yes,” she said simply.
This time he did laugh, the sound full of rage and no humor whatsoever. “You have to think we’re idiots!”
Yes,
she thought, though she wasn’t about to say it out loud. “It’s what happened.”
“So an old boyfriend gets a story telling him your husband is dead and he hightails it to your side? Now why would he do that if you haven’t seen each other or been in touch for years?”
“Because he knew I was no killer. He knew me for only three months and he knew that much. You both have known me a lot longer, so you should know it, too, even better than he does!”
“Yeah, well, we don’t
know
you the same way he does,” Travis sneered, the word filled with every drop of innuendo possible. “But rest assured, I do know you. I’ve known exactly what you were since the moment you hooked up with Bobby. I knew you were nothing but a no-good, worthless—”
“That’s enough, Travis,” Walt said, though there was no censure in his tone. “Now, Elena, you have to admit this story is hard to believe.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Uh-huh,” he drawled slowly. “And I suppose Alvarez can produce this mysterious newspaper article he received.”
“Yes,” she said. “I saw the envelope myself, complete with Western Bluff postmark.”
“I look forward to seeing that,” Walt said. “Why didn’t you tell us any of this yesterday? You had to know it wouldn’t look good when I figured it out.”
“That’s exactly why I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want you to jump to the wrong conclusions. How
did
you figure it out?”
“I’ll admit it took me a while. Then I remembered that fella you were seeing that your daddy got riled up about and it all came back to me.”
Exactly as Matt had suggested,
she thought.
Walt eyed her shrewdly. “Pretty amazing that this guy would come back eight years later after all that trouble if he hadn’t been in touch with you, just because somebody sent him a newspaper article.”
Elena couldn’t argue with that. “So it is.”
“Indeed. When do you expect Alvarez back?”
“He didn’t say.”
“I guess we’ll come back later then.”
“Maybe we’ll run into him in town,” Travis said, the words sounding every bit like a threat.
“Maybe,” Elena said mildly.
“Oh, and Elena?” Walt turned back with a casualness she didn’t buy for a moment. “In case you or your new hand start to get any ideas about leaving town, don’t.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” It seemed strange to say it, as long as she’d wanted out of this town. But even if she had the ability to leave, even if all her meager resources weren’t connected to the ranch, she wasn’t leaving now. Because she wasn’t guilty, and damned if she’d convince anyone in this town that she was by running.
The look he shot her said he didn’t believe her. She wasn’t surprised, nor did she bother to waste her breath arguing. She’d let her actions speak for themselves.
She wasn’t her mother. She wasn’t running. Not from this.
Not from anything.
Chapter Ten
When Matt finally made it into town, he took his time at the hardware store, ignoring the stares of the cashier and some of the other customers. Finding the right color of paint to match the front of Elena’s house wasn’t an easy task since he was operating from memory and so many of the shades were only slightly different from one another, but he wanted to get it right. He figured he could do that much for her.
He was finally loading up his truck, putting the cans of paint he’d bought in the truckbed, when he heard voices, the sounds of two men in conversation approaching on the sidewalk behind him. He didn’t pay much attention to them and was about to close the tailgate when he heard one of them mention the sheriff.
“I’m telling you, Henry, you need to put more pressure on Walt and get him to make a damn arrest already. That woman should be locked up.”
Matt froze, instantly tuning in to what they were saying. There wasn’t a doubt in Matt’s mind what woman the man was referring to.
Figuring it would look suspicious if he was just standing there not doing anything, he started acting like he was moving things around in the back of the truck without making any noise, keeping his ears peeled the whole time.
“Come on, Jack,” the second man said. “Walt is doing his best. He wants her behind bars as much as we all do. He just has to get all the evidence together. You should understand that. You’re a lawyer.”
A lawyer named Jack. That sounded familiar. Matt quickly made the connection in his head. Elena had mentioned the lawyer in charge of Weston’s will, the only lawyer in town. His name was Jack. Jack Landry. Weston’s cousin.
“I understand it shouldn’t be taking this long,” Landry insisted. “It’s been two weeks! Damn it, Henry. There has to be something you can do.”
The man he called Henry sighed. “I’m just the mayor of this town, Jack. I can’t force Walt to make an arrest before he’s good and ready.”
“Still, you—”
The other man cut him off, suddenly raising his voice, calling out. “There you are, hon. I was just on my way to meet you.”
Curious, Matt gave a casual glance over to see who he was speaking to.
A woman was slowly making her way down the sidewalk toward them. It was the woman he’d spotted yesterday, the one who’d been looking at him.
Which was exactly what she was doing now.
Their eyes locked for a few seconds before she looked away, working up a smile as she turned her attention to the men as they met each other.
“Hi there,” she said, kissing one of the men on the cheek—Henry, Matt figured—then nodding to the other. “Hello, Jack.”
“Lynda,” he acknowledged, barely concealing his annoyance that his conversation with the other man had been interrupted.
Matt studied the lawyer closely. He was roughly in his forties, with dark brown hair thinning on top. His desire to see Elena arrested for his cousin’s murder made sense, but Matt couldn’t help but look askance at anyone who was working against her, wondering if there wasn’t more to his actions than it seemed.
Lynda turned back to Henry, who Matt assumed was her husband based on their interactions. “Ready for lunch?”
“I sure am.” He gave a perfunctory glance at the other man. “I’ll see you, Jack.”
“Henry,” Jack acknowledged.
The mayor and his wife started to turn away. Just before they headed down the sidewalk, she glanced at Matt one more time, this time quickly looking away.
He watched her go for a few seconds. Lynda, the mayor’s wife. He’d have to ask Elena about her. She had to know who the woman was, might know if there was any particular reason for her attention.
Elena.
He swallowed a sigh, reminded again how they’d left things, the mess he had to clean up. If they were going to talk about anything, that was probably going to be it. And he still didn’t know what to say.
Even so, it was high time he got back. He finally closed the tailgate and turned away from the back of the truck.
When he arrived back at the ranch, Elena was walking across the yard heading toward the house, a bucket filled with what looked like cleaning supplies in one hand. She looked up at his approach, stopping in front of the steps to the house and waiting for him to get out of the truck.
Matt tried to gauge her expression, but couldn’t read a thing from it. She was too contained, her face blank. Steeling himself, he climbed out of the truck.
“I cleaned out the bunkhouse,” she said as he walked up, lifting her pail. “It should be a little more suited for occupation now.”
“Thanks.”
“Found this lodged between one of the dressers and a wall.” She held up an item in her left hand. It was a belt buckle. “I think I’ve seen Carter wearing it before. I’m guessing this is what he came to get.”
“So he really was looking for something he left behind,” Matt said. It clearly wasn’t just a belt buckle, but one he’d won at some point. Matt could understand why he’d come looking for it, even if he wasn’t quite ready to assume there was no other reason the man had come poking around.
“Evidently. I’ll send it on to Glen’s so he gets it and won’t have any other reasons to drop by.” She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, dropping her head and taking a deep breath. For a moment, Matt was sure he knew what she was about to say. She was going to bring up what had happened before.
She looked up and met his eyes. “Walt and Travis were here.”
It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say, and he couldn’t hide his surprise, both at what she hadn’t said and what she had. Then the implications of her words sank in, anger that he hadn’t been here replacing his surprise. He knew whatever happened, it couldn’t have been pleasant for her. Her expression confirmed that much. “What happened?”