Spurred (Steele Ranch 1)

“He knows about Mom and Dad?”

“Of course,” she replied, as if I were a little kid. “He knows everything. We have no secrets.”

That was the segue I was looking for. I flicked my gaze to Archer, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. Silent. He and Jamison were very similar.

“He obviously knows about me.”

“You are my sister.” The look on her face screamed duh.

“And my trip to Montana.”

“When you first told me, I was mad. Really mad. I mean, you find out you have a dad you never knew and inherit millions. And part of a ranch. That’s so not fair. No one ever gave me anything.”

“Mom and Dad gave you money to go to college.” I didn’t mention that I paid for her four other stints in rehab and was paying a second mortgage on a teacher’s salary because of it. I’d even given her the clothes off my back one winter.

Her eyes narrowed. I’d struck a nerve with just the mention of our parents. “They paid for the first year and look what happened. They died.”

“They didn’t die, Beth, because you went to school. They died because of a horrible accident. The money was still there for you, for college. They gave it to you.”

She sniffed, rubbed her nose with her finger.

“What did you do with it? Your college money?” I prodded.

Turning her head, she didn’t look at me. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I want Deputy Do-Right here to give me my one phone call.”

Archer didn’t even blink at her harsh tone.

“Who would you call?”

She pursed her lips. “I’d call you, but you’re here. So get me out.”

“No.”

Th

ere. I said it.

Three…two…one.

“No? No! Kady, what the fuck?” She tugged at the handcuffs, ready to pace and wave her arms about, make a scene so she’d get the attention and sympathy she wanted.

“David Briggs is being charged with…what, Sheriff?” I asked, calmly.

“Attempted murder, solicitation to commit murder and a few other things.”

Beth stilled, blinked.

“Murder?” she all but yelled. “Who would David kill? He’s been in rehab and then with me. I think I’d know if my husband had killed someone.”

“Attempted murder.”

“Attempted. Fine, the person’s alive then. No harm, no foul.”

“Don’t you want to know who he wanted killed?” I asked.

She shrugged.

“Me.”