“Me.”
Sky looked puzzled, but only for a moment. “You . . . and Luke?”
“I love him, Sky.” Erin had never said those words before but she felt the truth of them like a burning flame inside her. “I love him and I know he’s innocent. But I don’t know how to prove it.”
“Oh, blast it, Erin.” Sky shook his head. “This is getting complicated. Where’s Luke now?”
“I have no idea. He could be in jail—or on the road, maybe without even knowing what happened. . . .” Erin’s voice broke.
Rose came out of the kitchen. “Heavens to Betsy, Sky, you must be starved,” she said. “I sent Carmen home and warmed up some of the stew she made last night. Sit down at the kitchen table, and I’ll bring you a bowl.”
“Thanks. If you don’t mind, I’ll clean up first. Something tells me it might be a long night.” He disappeared into the half bath off the kitchen where generations of Tylers had washed up before meals.
“You sit down, too, Erin,” Rose said. “I know you might not have much appetite, but you’ve got some tough times ahead of you. You’re going to need your strength—that means getting some nourishment in you.”
Erin sank onto a chair. Rose was right. If she didn’t eat she would be even more fragile than she felt herself to be. But the bowl of savory beef stew Rose set before her, accompanied by a thick slice of buttered bread, seemed more like medicine than food. She would have to force it down.
Sky took his seat across from Erin. Rose dished up two more bowls of stew, poured some fresh coffee, and joined them. No one, not even Sky, felt much like eating, but they went through the motions as they talked.
There would be a funeral to plan—but by now the family had that down to a routine. It could wait until they knew when Will’s body would be released by the medical examiner. He had died of a single gunshot wound to the head. But the sheriff would want to recover the bullet or at least determine factors like range and trajectory before returning the remains to the family. The medical examiner would also determine how long Will had been dead. But since he’d been seen leaving town around twelve thirty and had never made it home, the time would be an easy guess.
The thought of Will on the autopsy table sent a cold shudder through Erin’s body. This was her father. How could she even imagine what was happening to him? Willing the thought away, she tried to focus on the question Sky was asking her.
“Whoever set up that ambush would have known that Will would be coming back from town. How many people were aware that he’d be on the road?”
“He told Carmen where he was going,” Erin said. “Luke would have seen him leave—but so would anyone else who was working around the place. Someone who was already in town could have seen him there, too. Whoever it was must have been crazed with hate to commit such a cold-blooded act—planning it ahead, laying that tire on the road that led to our ranch, then lying in wait and . . .” Erin pressed her hands to her face as if to stem a surge of tears. Will had been a good man. But there had always been people who envied, even hated, the Tylers. The question was, who had hated Will enough to kill him?
“Does Luke own a gun?” Sky asked.
“Doesn’t everybody in these parts? Yes, he has a .38. He used it to shoot a rattlesnake when we were checking out the wash where Jasper was found.”
“Well, let’s hope the sheriff has the bullet that killed Will. If the ballistics don’t match Luke’s gun, that’ll go a long way in clearing him.”
“So you believe me, that Luke couldn’t have killed my father?”
“Luke strikes me as a decent man. I’m not saying he’s the man for you, but without solid evidence, I won’t believe he’s a murderer.” Sky broke off a chunk of bread and used it to sop up the gravy in his bowl.
Sky’s guarded reply to Erin’s question was not lost on her. But for now it would have to be enough.
“There’s somebody else,” she said, changing the subject. “Somebody’s been prowling around the ranch. I don’t know what they want, but Luke and I caught a glimpse of a man above the horse paddock—tall and thin, with long hair, maybe dressed in black, though it was hard to tell. And we thought we heard a motorcycle starting up, far away.”
“A man? You’re sure?” Sky was suddenly alert, seeming almost wary. “Is there any chance it could’ve been a woman?”
“I hadn’t thought of that. But we found a boot track above the paddock and one just like it in the wash where Jasper died. Oh—and Jasper’s pistol and money were missing.”
“Did you tell the sheriff?”
“I told the deputy—Roy Porter. I knew him from school. He said the wash was a hangout for smugglers and illegals, and whoever robbed Jasper was probably just passing through. But I took a photo of the print we found in the wash, just in case.”
“Do you still have it?”
“I do. It’s on my phone. Hang on. I left it in the office. I’ll get it.”
Erin left the table and hurried to the office. She couldn’t help being intrigued by Sky’s reaction to her story. Did he know more than he was telling her?
She found her phone. It took only a few seconds to scroll to find the photo of the boot print. She carried the phone back to the kitchen and handed it to Sky.
“I hadn’t thought of it before,” she said, “but the boot that made that print is narrow enough to be a woman’s. If it is, she’s no fashionista. That long, pointed toe looks like something out of the nineteen seventies.”