Secrets in Four Corners. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ the last couple of days the temps had hovered in the lower forties. Jacket wearing weather for sure.

      Bree surveyed the landscape. No vehicle. She wandered wide around the body, careful of every step. No visible shoe imprints. With the dusty terrain and the ever-present wind, that was no real surprise. No purse. No cell phone. Most females carried some sort of purse, even if only a small clutch. And cell phones, hardly anyone left home without them these days.

      Had the body been dumped here, making this location the secondary crime scene, or had Grainger met someone here who had taken her personal effects and vehicle after taking her life?

      This part of the park’s entry and exit possibilities via vehicle were limited to say the least.

      The thought drew Bree’s gaze to the road. A dust cloud bloomed, announcing that someone was coming…fast. An SUV bucked along the trail-turned-road until it skidded to a halt next to Bree’s vehicle. The dust settled and her denial-swaddled brain registered what her eyes had already recognized.

      Official vehicle.

      Kenner County.

      Had Cyrus called the sheriff first? Now that she thought about it, that didn’t add up. There was no way the sheriff could have gotten here this fast unless he’d heard already. Before Cyrus called anyone.

      The driver’s-side door opened and her heart seemed to stall in her chest. A booted foot hit the ground as the trademark white cowboy hat rose above the open door. Broad shoulders followed that same route…then a tall, lean body gloved in jeans and a brown sheriff’s department jacket moved aside and the driver’s-side door slammed shut.

      Patrick Martinez.

      Sheriff Patrick Martinez.

      Peter’s father.

      He strode toward her and Bree snapped out of the ridiculous trance she’d slipped into. Focus. She was a professional; he was a professional. There was no need to let personal feelings get in the way of doing the job. She’d considered long and hard what she would do if this situation ever arose. Now was the time to put that plan into action.

      “Sheriff,” she said, taking the first step.

      Vivid blue eyes, ones exactly like her son’s, zeroed in on Bree’s like a laser hitting its target. Patrick nodded curtly. “Detective.”

      “The victim’s over here.” Bree walked back to where Grainger’s body lay waiting to reveal the story behind the final moments of her life.

      Had Cyrus or Brewer called MacBride yet? Those lab folks should be here. Now.

      Patrick crouched to get a closer look. Bree did the same. He pulled a pair of latex gloves from his jacket pocket and tugged them on. “Who found her?”

      The pain in his deep voice reflected the ache of finding one of his own murdered. Every victim was a tragedy, but the loss of a colleague was like losing a family member.

      “Burt Hayes. Park guide.” Hayes was still giving his statement to Brewer. “He checks the trails every couple of days. Found her this morning. Looks like she may have been here a couple of days.”

      Patrick nodded. Bree tried hard not to stare at his profile. This wasn’t the time. No time would be right…not for the two of them. Still, she couldn’t look away. Strong, square jaw. He hadn’t taken the time to shave that morning, but the stubble looked good on him. Always had. For a man closer to forty than thirty, he looked damned good.

      Being so near Patrick after all this time made her even more aware of how very much her son looked like him.

      “Coroner on his way?”

      Bree blinked. Concentrate. “Officer Cyrus called the coroner and Callie MacBride at the crime lab just before you arrived.”

      “But he didn’t call me.” Patrick rose, towered over her before her brain could send the message to her suddenly rubbery legs to stand. He took a long look around the area. “You and your people sure got out here in one hell of a hurry.”

      The accusation in the sheriff’s eyes when his gaze settled on hers once more ticked her off, exiled all the other emotional confusion of seeing him again after eight years…after the discussion with her son not an hour ago…after everything.

      “Cyrus was about to call your office when you arrived.” She lifted her chin, sent a lead-filled gaze right back at him. “The initial call came into TPD, Cyrus and Brewer got here first, then called me. Obviously someone called you.”

      “We got a 9-1-1 call,” he explained. “The caller didn’t identify himself, but there was no question that he was male.” Patrick jerked his head toward the guide. “Any idea why he would call your department and report his discovery, then call 9-1-1?”

      Bree glanced at the old man. Most of the older folks didn’t bother will cell phones. Many didn’t even have landlines. Chances were he’d gone to the gas station on Highway 160 and made the call from there since the visitor’s center wouldn’t have been open so early. But why call twice? She shook her head. That was something she needed to ask him.

      Should have already, but she’d only been on the scene a few minutes herself. Still, she felt stupid at the moment. Patrick Martinez somehow always made her feel inept. That had been part of their problem. Here she’d been all caught up in the emotional impact of seeing him again. And he was only concerned with why he didn’t get the call first. Not to mention they should both be focused on the investigation, not some petty pissing contest.

      Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. His point was relevant. Whatever the case, it was past time to cut to the chase here. “As I said, Officers Cyrus and Brewer were the first on the scene. Cyrus called me immediately due to the sensitivity of the situation. We work together. It made sense at the time. It wasn’t about leaving you or anyone else out. As for the 9-1-1 call, we’ll have to ask Mr. Hayes.” She folded her arms over her chest, refused to waver beneath his iron stare. “Bottom line, this is Ute territory first and foremost. Cyrus’s decision to call me first was the right one.”

      The stare-off lasted another eight or ten seconds before Patrick looked away. Bree did a little mental victory dance. It hadn’t been her to give this time.

      “I’ll call my Bureau contact.” Patrick shook his head, rested his gaze on hers once more. “There’s going to be a firestorm over this,” he warned. “There won’t be any straightforward lines of jurisdiction beyond the fact that the Bureau will be lead. We’ll do what they tell us. But everyone will want a part of this. Unfortunately that includes every damned news network in this part of the country.”

      He spoke as if she were a rookie straight out of the academy. “Was that announcement for your benefit? ’Cause I sure as hell hope it wasn’t for mine. I know how the chain of command works, Martinez. And I also know the full scope of the kind of impact this case will have on the community. I don’t need you or anyone else to tell me how to do my job.”

      With one long, slow sweep of his dark lashes, he looked her up and down. “If working together is going to be a problem for you, perhaps you should step aside and let one of the other detectives on the special task force take this one.”

      He had to be kidding. Was he trying to piss her off? Fury boiled up inside her. “I don’t have a problem. You’re the one who appears to have СКАЧАТЬ