“All right.”
“It’s a fact we’ve been holding back because we don’t know what to make of it, and when we have a suspect to question—”
“You want to see if he’s aware of it, whatever it is.”
“That’s correct.” He paused, then said, “The Major’s deer rifle was within his arm’s reach when the first responders arrived.”
“He was probably putting it away.”
The three men shared another look. One of the Rangers asked, “He had it out of the cabinet while you were there?”
“Yes.” She explained The Major’s sentimental attachment to the rifle. “After showing it to me, he propped it against the wall and went over to the bar to pour a drink. He was probably putting it away when he was attacked.”
The three sat back in their chairs, their body language conveying that was a plausible explanation for something that had intrigued them. Sheriff Addison said, “We conjectured that maybe he had heard something at the back of the house, or heard the culprits coming up the porch steps, and went for the rifle to protect himself. It wasn’t loaded, but he could’ve scared somebody into thinking it was.”
In a soft voice, Kerra said, “If only he’d had the chance.”
He nodded glumly, coughed behind his fist, then said, “What’s the second detail that may or may not be significant?”
She rolled her lips inward, which made the abraded corner of her mouth sore, which reminded her of why she dreaded this so desperately and wouldn’t be doing it at all except that it was the right, moral, and legal thing to do. “It concerns my missing bag.”
“It’s turned up?”
“No, sheriff. But something I’m certain was inside it has been returned to me.”
He registered astonishment. “By who?”
Chapter 11
Contrary to the relief Kerra had expected to feel upon being dismissed and allowed to leave the sheriff’s office, she hunched in the backseat of the deputy-driven patrol car, feeling despondent and generally miserable.
Her head ached dully but without letup. Her coat had been returned to her, but it was inadequate against the Siberian express, which had hit the plains of North Texas where there was nothing to block it except for barbed-wire fences. Over the course of the afternoon, roads had become increasingly hazardous.
Her car, now encased in ice, was still in the motel parking lot where she’d left it Sunday morning to join the crew in the production van for the short trip out to The Major’s spread. That seemed a long time ago.
Gracie had checked her back into the room she’d previously occupied, where a welcome back party was already in full swing when the deputy delivered her. Dazed by the ill-timed surprise, Kerra reunited with the rest of the crew who, despite the inclement weather, had rounded up burgers and beer and helium-filled balloons that bobbed and swayed from various anchors in the crowded room.
She tried to be gracious and get into the festive spirit, but Gracie must have sensed her downcast mood. As soon as the burgers had been demolished, the producer shooed the others out.
“Maybe our celebration was a bit much with you just out of the hospital,” she said, plopping cross-legged in the center of Kerra’s bed with her
tablet in her lap. “But we need to go over some particulars about tomorrow.”
“Gracie, if you’re referring to the interview, there may not be a ‘tomorrow.’”
“I’m betting on a thumbs-up. In which case, we have to be ready.”
Kerra had struggled with the decision over whether or not to agree to be interviewed about her private time with The Major. After weighing the pros and cons, she’d decided that Gracie had given her a solid piece of advice. Shouldn’t she take advantage of this tragic, yet exceptional, set of circumstances? She hadn’t worked this hard, gotten this far, to blow it now. The industry was cutthroat and unforgiving. To pass on this opportunity could amount to career suicide.
But, as Trapper had predicted, neither Sheriff Addison, the Rangers, nor anyone involved in the investigation was enthusiastic when she broached the subject at the conclusion of her questioning.
The officers raised a number of objections and concerns. The discussion went back and forth with compromises being granted by both sides. Ultimately, however, Kerra had come away with only their promise to consider it and inform her of their decision in the morning.
But as though it were a done deal, Gracie proceeded to run down her checklist. “His Highness will want to steer the interview because he’s peeved that you got to The Major when he failed to.” She was referring to the network’s venerable anchorman, who would conduct his end of the interview from the studio in New York.
“But don’t give him any wiggle room, Kerra. The nation will be wanting to hear from you. You. Your disbelief, your heartache, your…well, you know. Be human. If you can cry on command, a tear or two would be a great effect.
“I thought we’d do it from the first floor lobby of the hospital,” she rattled on. “Make it feel real. A hero’s life hanging in the balance. Admirers around the world praying for a miracle. So forth.”