Texas Tough (The Tylers of Texas 2)

“Only until I’d decided what to do about it.” Sky had told Beau about the deed he’d been given in the will. But he hadn’t revealed his relationship to Bull Tyler. That was a secret he’d sworn to carry to his grave.

“What’s to decide?” Beau demanded. “You get the land, you use it, run livestock on it, even build yourself a home. For once I agree with my father. You deserve that parcel of land. And when we tell Will, I know he’ll feel the same.”

Sky gazed past the hood of the pickup, to where the white coroner’s van was pulling up alongside the sheriff’s Jeep. “And what if I don’t feel the same? The Rimrock gave me a home and a life. All I’ve ever done is my job—and for that I’ve been paid a fair wage. I’ve never taken anything I haven’t earned.” He shook his head. “That land’s worth a lot of money. It just doesn’t feel right.”

Beau muttered a curse. “Dammit, Sky Fletcher, if I live to be a hundred, I’ll never understand what goes on in that crazy Comanche brain of yours. So, what would you do with the land if you didn’t keep it?”

“Donate it to the Rimrock—or sell it and donate the money. I know the ranch could use it, especially this year. But to tell you the truth, I’ve been too busy to do anything about it.”

Beau’s response was cut off by a shout from the young deputy who was circling the bog.

“Hey, over here! I found something!” He’d raised his camera and was leaning close to snap photos. Belly jiggling, Abner Sweeney pounded around the side of the bog. He’d taken a handkerchief out of his pocket and was holding it to his nose. Mindi Thacker, in high-heeled sandals, sprinte

d after him followed by her cameraman. Sky and Beau watched from a distance. If the scene hadn’t revolved around a murder investigation, it might have been laughable.

“Here, let’s have a look.” Sweeney moved in closer, crowding the deputy and inadvertently sinking a boot ankle deep into the muck. He yanked his foot out, grimacing with distaste and spattering mud on the newswoman’s spotless white slacks.

“Hope they got that on TV,” Beau muttered, then turned his attention to the object the deputy had bagged and lifted out of the cattails. “How about that? Judging from what I can see of it, I’d say that’s a nine millimeter Glock. A gun like that could blow a big hole in a man. I wouldn’t bet against it being the murder weapon.”

“Neither would I, but why would the shooter just toss it here?” Sky stirred, fishing his truck keys out of his pocket. “This is a good show, but I need to go into town and find Marie.”

“Go ahead,” said Beau. “I’ll cover for you here and answer any questions from Abner. Somebody should be willing to give me a ride back to the house.”

“Thanks. You can tell them anything you know about the camp and the marijuana. But don’t mention Marie if you can help it. If Stella finds out she’s a Fletcher, that could put her in danger.”

“Fine for now, but we might not be able to keep it a secret.”

“I understand,” Sky said. “Just give me time to warn her. She can decide what to do.”

As Sky climbed into the pickup he could see the deputies and the medical examiner moving Coy’s remains to an open body bag on a stretcher. He remembered Coy as a big man, well over 250 pounds. Whoever had killed him, they’d have needed extra muscle to get his body to the middle of the bog—unless Coy had walked there on his own.

Lost in thought, he made the drive into Blanco Springs. It was early in the day. The Blue Coyote would be closed, and Marie would most likely be sleeping.

Worry gnawed at him as he pulled into the empty parking lot. Would he even find her here? He’d given her his cell phone number, but she hadn’t contacted him since the day they’d driven out to his property and found Coy missing. She could have decided to leave town without telling him.

He remembered her vendetta against Stella. Could the Blue Coyote’s owner have found out who she was and done away with Marie as she had Lute? Given the circumstances and the people involved, anything could have happened.

Sky knew she didn’t want to be seen with him. But his news couldn’t wait. Deciding not to waste time, he climbed out of the pickup, mounted the back stairs to Marie’s room, and rapped sharply on her door.

The long silence was broken by the creak of rusty bed springs and a sleepy voice.

“Who’s out there, and what the hell do you want?”

Sky began to breathe again. The voice was Marie’s.

“It’s Sky,” he said. “Open the door. I need to talk to you.”

The door chain rattled. The door cracked open. “I told you not to come here. What is it?”

“Bad news, Marie. Coy’s dead. We found his body on the ranch.”

Seizing Sky’s arm, she jerked him into the room, closed the door, and locked the chain. The blinds were down, darkening the shabby little room. Marie was wearing a shapeless, gray tee that fell to the middle of her thighs. She sank onto the side of the bed, pressing her lips together for a moment before she spoke. “Tell me everything,” she said.

Sky told her, leaving out the more grisly details. She took the news impassively, as if numb with shock. “I figured something like that must’ve happened to him,” she said. “Coy was probably asking for what he got. But he’s still my brother, and I still feel bad. Any idea who killed him?”

“The sheriff’s crew found a pistol at the scene, a Glock. They’ll have to dust it for prints and do a ballistics test, but if it’s the murder weapon, and they can trace it . . .” Sky let the words hang.

“Can they do the testing here in Blanco?”