Rugged Defender

“So he was telling the truth,” she said. “Did you pass all of this on to his father?”

“I did. But like I said—”

“Bert had his mind made up.” She nodded. “Isn’t it possible that someone fired the shot that would kill Drew, dropped the gun and ran? Drew picked up the gun and fired the shot that was found embedded in the wall by the door?”

“Possible. Justin said he heard the sound of a vehicle engine as he was calling 911. But we found no evidence another person had been in that room let alone shot Drew.”

“You ruled it an accident.” She met the sheriff’s gaze. “It sounds more like a suicide.”

The sheriff bristled. “That’s not what the evidence led me to. I wasn’t alone. The coroner agreed.”

“But you also don’t want this to be a suicide.”

McCall sighed. “No one wants to tell a father that his son killed himself, that’s true. But there was no suicide note. No apparent depression or talk of suicide. People who knew him didn’t believe Drew would have purposely taken his own life. Also there is no evidence that Drew was trying to kill himself,” McCall said. “Alcohol was involved. His wouldn’t be the first accident with a firearm when the user has been drinking.”

Chloe sat forward. “But what if he was trying to defend himself?”

“From whom?”

“That’s what I don’t know, but the shot in the direction of the door bothers me.” She could see that it had bothered the sheriff, as well.

“I believe he was impaired enough that he didn’t have control over the gun,” McCall said.

Drew had been in a fight and he was drunk. She supposed he could have gotten his gun out, thinking whoever had given him the beating might want to finish him off. And in his drunken state shot the wall and then himself as he fumbled with the gun.

“Did you know Drew Calhoun?” the sheriff asked.

She shook her head. “He was older so he was out of high school before I got there. I’ve heard stories about him. I know he and Justin didn’t get along.”

The sheriff nodded. “I’m not sure what you plan to do with this information, but I hope you’re sensitive to the pain a tragedy like this leaves in a community, not to mention how a father is still struggling to deal with his loss.”

Chloe had conflicting emotions when it came to the case. What she knew of Drew assured her that he had no reason to want to kill himself. He had been arrogant, wild and his father’s favorite. He’d been spoiled all his life. Suicide didn’t seem likely. Not that people who have shown no sign of suicidal tendencies previously don’t take their lives in weak moments.

“I lived with a lot of what-ifs in my life, not knowing the truth about my own father,” McCall said.

“But then you found out the truth.”

The sheriff nodded. “Which led to other truths perhaps I hadn’t wanted to know. I found out that whenever you go digging into something like this, it can be dangerous, especially if you go into it believing one thing only to find out you’re wrong. But I can see that your mind is made up.” She got to her feet. “Let me get you the information.”

As Chloe was leaving the sheriff’s office, she almost collided with a man in uniform. He caught her as she stumbled against him. As her gaze rose to his face, she felt a shock. “Kelly?”

“That’s Deputy Locke to you,” he said seriously. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Shocked was more like it. It felt like running headlong into the solid brick wall of her past. All the pain the man had caused her. She’d hated Kelly Locke. For a moment, she couldn’t speak. She’d thought he’d left town and said as much.

“I came back. Seems you did the same thing.”

She stared at him, her throat constricting. Everyone had people in their past who’d helped shape them. If anything, Kelly Locke had made her the cynical woman she’d become. It was what made her dig for stories, looking for the truth. The truth meant more to her than anything. She’d already lived with the lies because of him.

“You like the uniform?” he asked, making her realize she’d been staring.

“I never thought of you like this,” she stammered.

“You thought of me?” He grinned and brushed back a lock of blond hair from his blue eyes. When she didn’t respond, he said, “So what are you doing here?”

She opened her mouth, closed it. “Just stopped in to see the sheriff.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

“No.” She said it a little too quickly.

He raised a brow. “If you don’t want to tell me...”

The shock was starting to wear off. “I’m sure you’re busy with keeping Whitehorse safe from jaywalkers.”

“Funny,” he said as he puffed up, his hand going to the weapon on his hip. “But then again, you always did like the one-liners.”

She looked into his handsome face and thought as she had years ago how unfair it was that Kelly Locke could look so good and yet be such a jackass. But it was worse than that. She knew how cruel the man could be since she’d stupidly dated him at one point. That he was now a deputy and armed made her a little uneasy—especially given the way things had ended between them.

“So how long have you been a deputy?”

He grinned. “Almost six years.”

“That long.” It would mean that he’d been a deputy when Drew Calhoun was killed.

“I’m the strong arm of the law,” he said, his gaze meeting hers and holding it. “Which means you’d best watch yourself.” He lowered his voice and leaned closer so the dispatcher couldn’t hear. She caught a cloying waft of men’s cologne. “I’d hate to have to cuff you and take you for a ride in the back of my patrol car.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” With that, she stepped past him and headed for the exit. She could feel herself trembling, remembering what he’d done to her. She didn’t have to look back to know he was watching her. His gaze burned into her back. The man gave her more than the creeps. He scared her.

Chapter Four

When Chloe returned to their grandmother’s house, she found Annabelle in the kitchen baking cookies and TJ editing a manuscript at the table.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Kelly Locke is a cop?” Chloe demanded when she walked in and saw her two sisters.

They looked up in surprise. “He isn’t a cop—he’s a sheriff’s deputy,” Annabelle said.

“Same thing! He carries a gun and a badge!” she cried.

“I take it that the uniform doesn’t make your old boyfriend look even better to you? Has he changed?” TJ asked. Not enough, Chloe thought. But then again she’d never told her sisters the extent of Kelly’s malice after they’d broken up.

“It’s his personality that’s the problem.” She shuddered.

“He was always so angry, so close to the edge that I was on pins and needles all the time you were dating,” TJ said. “He’d go off for no reason. He was always looking for a fight. If anyone looked at him cross-eyed—”

“Wow, he really did set you both off,” Annabelle said. “I always thought he was really cute and built too. What did he do this time? Arrest you for throwing snowballs at cars like some of us used to do?”

“You don’t know how unfunny that is. I ran into him at the sheriff’s office,” she said. “He threatened to handcuff me and get me into the back of his patrol car.”

“What were you doing at the sheriff’s office unless he did arrest you?” Annabelle asked.

Chloe saw that both sisters were studying her.

“What’s going on?” TJ asked suspiciously.

She tried to wave it off, but could see neither sister was going to let her get away with it. “I’m looking into Drew Calhoun’s death.”

“Why would you do that?” TJ and Annabelle asked in unison.

“That is so annoying when you two do that,” she said.

“Is this about Justin?” Annabelle asked.

“I’m just curious about Drew’s case,” she said as she opened the refrigerator, pulled out the orange juice and poured herself a glass. She wasn’t thirsty. She just needed something to do with her hands. It was hard to stall without keeping her hands busy.

“Just curious?” TJ said. “Are you looking for a job?”

Taking a drink, she turned slowly to meet her sister’s gaze. “I’m not sure what I want to do next.”

“Chloe? You aren’t thinking of quitting print journalism, are you?”

“Maybe you haven’t heard but newspapers are struggling right now,” Chloe began and was quickly interrupted.

“With your track record?” TJ asked in surprise. “You can get a job almost anywhere, maybe a smaller paper but—”

“I’m not sure what I want to do,” she said. “Maybe I just need a break.”

Annabelle laughed. “You’re falling in love with Whitehorse all over again, aren’t you? You don’t want to leave.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far, but I am enjoying being here with the two of you.” She went over to where Annabelle was taking cookies hot from the oven off the pan and setting them out to cool. She had to smile. Her younger sister had never shown any interest in cooking or baking growing up.

When they were kids, TJ had taken up cooking because their grandmother was no cook. Chloe had been the baker. There was something so satisfying about whipping up a batch of cookies. Plus you got to eat them while they were still warm. She’d forgotten how much she’d enjoyed it since she seldom baked for herself.

“Sugar cookies for Dawson,” Annabelle said proudly.

“And for your big sister Chloe,” she said, taking a cookie. “You’re getting good at this. These are delicious.”

Her sister lit up at the praise. “I figure I’ll branch out into cooking. Willie has promised to teach me a few of Dawson’s favorite dishes.”

“You couldn’t ask for a better teacher,” Chloe said of Dawson’s mother.

TJ was studying her again. “I know you, Chloe. Unless you have a project, you will go crazy between now and the wedding. We don’t want that.”

She realized that her sister was giving her permission to dig into the Drew Calhoun case. Like she needed her permission, she thought, but wasn’t about to voice it. Annabelle and TJ would be busy and out of her hair. She was her own woman. She could do whatever she wanted.

“But are you sure there isn’t more to this quest you’re on?” TJ asked, studying her closely. “Like Justin?”

Chloe had to smile. Her sister knew her so well. “I might as well hang around for a while. Anyway, we have a wedding coming up, right?”

“That’s what we wanted to tell you,” Annabelle said excitedly. “We have a surprise.”

Chloe had already told them that she didn’t like surprises. Often it meant change. Like when their parents had been killed and they’d been shipped to Whitehorse to live with a grandmother they didn’t even know existed before then. Grandma Frannie had been wonderful, but she’d definitely been a surprise.

What was she thinking? Frannie had continued to be a surprise.

“We’re going to have a double wedding!” Annabelle announced, smiling broadly, her eyes glittering as she reached over and grasped TJ’s hand.

“Congratulations!” Chloe said, glad for the change of subject. “This is wonderful. What can I do to help?”

The conversation quickly shifted to the double wedding: who, what, where, when.

“We need to find you a dress to wear,” Annabelle was saying.

“I thought you both wanted small weddings?” she asked.

“It can be small but elegant,” Annabelle said.

Chloe looked at TJ. “You and Silas are good with this?”

Her sister laughed. “My mountain man does own a tux, you know.”

She looked at them and felt her heart swell. “I am so happy for both of you.”

“So what have you found out so far?” TJ asked as Chloe joined her at the table.

“I just did a little research on Drew Calhoun’s death,” she said. “There wasn’t much in the local paper so I talked to the sheriff. It was interesting—and disturbing.”

“In what way?” Annabelle asked as she brought over a plate of cookies and joined them.

“No real answers. I can understand why McCall ruled it an accident, but it definitely left me wondering. I’m sure that’s the problem Justin’s dad is having with it, as well. Did you know that someone beat up Drew that night before he was shot? He had cuts and bruises, a black eye and scratches on his face and arms that the coroner said appeared to be from fingernails.”

“So some woman beat him up?” Annabelle said.

“I’d say he definitely tangled with someone or maybe a mountain lion,” she said. “I’d love to know who was responsible. But it makes me think that it’s why Drew, who was drunk, was in the cabin with his gun.”

“Maybe he was going after whoever beat him up,” TJ suggested.

“Or thought they were coming after him,” Annabelle added.

Chloe sighed. “We might never know. He wasn’t dead though when Justin found him. According to Justin, he took the gun away from him—that’s how his fingerprints ended up on the gun. It also explained trace amounts of gunpowder residue on Justin’s hands.”

“I heard that one of the reasons Bert thinks Justin shot his brother was because he found him standing over Drew holding the gun,” Annabelle said.

“That would do it,” TJ agreed.

“Also Justin and Drew had a fight earlier in the day,” Chloe said.

“What convinced the sheriff that Justin didn’t do it?” TJ, the mystery/thriller writer, asked.

“Before I left her office, McCall gave me a copy of the coroner’s report. I’ve only glanced at it, but Drew was shot at close range in the chest. There was another shot fired either before or after. This one in the opposite direction. The bullet lodged in the wall next to the door.”

“That’s odd,” TJ said.

“That’s what I thought. I suggested to the sheriff that someone shot Drew with his gun, then dropped it in his lap to make it look like a suicide and was leaving, not realizing Drew was still alive. He picked up the gun and fired at his would-be killer. His shot went wild. He was still holding the gun when Justin appeared minutes later and took it away from him. Justin said he heard a vehicle motor leaving after he found Drew, but apparently no one else did since his father found him not long after, holding the gun.”

“Or Drew was drunk and angry. He fired the shot at the door before turning the gun on himself,” TJ said and shrugged. “Like you said, we’ll probably never know.”

“But what if someone got away with murder?” Chloe said.

Neither sister said anything for a moment.

“Wait, if you really think Drew was murdered, won’t this be dangerous?” Annabelle said.

“Maybe even more dangerous if Justin Calhoun decides to come to the New Year’s Eve Masquerade Dance,” TJ said. “There are apparently plenty of people in this town who believe he killed his brother. Justin might be the last person who wants you playing investigative reporter into his brother’s death.”

* * *

“WE’VE GOT TROUBLE.”

“I heard. Justin Calhoun is back in town. Someone saw him buying beer at the convenience store. Nici Kent was with him.”

“Bigger trouble than that.”

“Chloe Clementine. She’s an investigative reporter from some big California newspaper. She spent time at the local newspaper wanting to know about Drew Calhoun’s death. Then she went over to the sheriff’s office. I heard the sheriff gave her the coroner’s report on his death.”

“So what? The sheriff ruled it an accident. It’s been five years. It isn’t as if they would reopen the case because of some nosey reporter. Just keep your cool. Nothing’s going to come of this.”

“But what if this Clementine gets too close to the truth?”

“Then I’ll take care of her. You worry too much. Drew Calhoun got what was coming to him. There is no reason anyone would suspect we were involved. So chill out. She’s going to be asking a lot of questions, but we don’t know anything, right?”

“Right. It’s just that after five years—”

“I’m telling you it’s nothing. It’s over. We’re all in the clear.” But even as he mouthed the words, he could tell that they weren’t in the clear. There was a weak link and he was going to have to take care of it.

After disconnecting he considered his options. He wouldn’t do anything until he was forced to. Maybe all this would blow over. Or not. Still there was cause for concern. Something must have brought Justin Calhoun back to Whitehorse. The timing bothered him. He returns and this investigative reporter gets interested? There had to be a connection. Or someone had talked.

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