Freeport, why don’t you go home and calm down—”
“He died of a gunshot wound,” Dugan said, cutting off the sheriff.
Sage barely stifled a gasp. “Then the car crash...? That didn’t kill him.”
“No,” Dr. Longmire said, “he most likely bled out.”
Sage’s mind raced. Who had shot Ron? And why? “The shot caused the crash,” she said, piecing together a scenario in her head.
“That would be my guess,” Dr. Longmire said.
“Was there a bullet hole in the car?” Dugan asked Gandt.
Sheriff Gandt shrugged. “I don’t know. The fire destroyed most of it.”
Sage folded her arms and stared at the sheriff. “But that bullet proves Ron Lewis’s death was no accident. He was murdered.”
* * *
DUGAN WORKED TO rein in his anger toward Gandt. The weasel should be comforting Sage and reassuring her he’d do everything humanly possible to find the truth about what happened to her son.
That was what he’d do if he was sheriff.
But he lacked the power and money the Gandts had, and in this small town, that seemed to mean everything.
“It appears that way,” Sheriff Gandt told Sage. “And I will be investigating the matter. But—” he lifted a warning hand to Sage “—if your son had survived, we would have found him by now, Ms. Freeport. Odds are that the shooter fired at Lewis, he crashed and managed to get out of the car and fled. Maybe your son was with him, maybe not. But if he made it to the water with Lewis, he couldn’t have survived the frigid temperature or the current. He would have been swept downstream and drowned.”
“Sheriff,” Dugan snarled, hating the man’s cold bluntness.
The M.E. gave Sage a sympathetic look, then excused himself and hurried out the door.
Sheriff Gandt tugged at his pants. Damn man needed a belt to keep the things up. That or lose thirty pounds around his belly so he didn’t have to wear them so low.
“I know you want me to sugarcoat things, Graystone, but I’m the sheriff, not a damn counselor. I tell it like it is. Good or bad.”
Still, he could consider Sage’s feelings. She’d lost a child. “Part of your job is to protect innocent citizens and to find out the truth when something happens to one of them. Benji Freeport was three. He was certainly innocent.” Dugan squared off with the sheriff. “But you haven’t done a damn thing to give his mother closure or find the answers she needs.”
“You think bringing her a mangled bunch of bones is going to make her feel better?” Sheriff Gandt said.
“That would hurt, but at least I’d know the truth,” Sage said. “And now that we know Ron was murdered, there is a chance that whoever shot him took Benji.” Sage’s voice cracked. “That means that Benji may be out there, alone, in trouble, needing me. That he’s been waiting for us to find him all this time.”
Dugan’s chest tightened at the emotions in her voice. Emotions she had every right to feel, because she’d spoken the truth.
Sheriff Gandt swung a crooked finger toward the door. “I don’t need either of you telling me how to do my job. Now, leave so I can get to it.”
“Then let me know what you find.” Sage clutched her shoulder bag, turned and walked out the door.
Dugan stared at the sheriff. “She deserves to know what happened to her son. And if he’s alive, she deserves to bring him home.”
“She’s deluding herself if she thinks she’ll find him alive,” Sheriff Gandt said. “She needs to accept that he’s gone and move on with her life.”
Dugan had never had a child, but if he did and that child disappeared, he’d move heaven and earth to find him. “You are going to investigate Lewis’s murder, aren’t you? After all, you owe it to the people in the town to make sure that his killer isn’t still among them.”
Gandt tapped his badge. “In case you’ve forgotten, Graystone, the people elected me, so they obviously have confidence in my abilities. Now, get out of my office.”
Dugan shot him a go-to-hell look, turned and stormed out the door. The man might make a token gesture to solve Lewis’s murder.
But he doubted he would put forth any effort to hunt for Benji Freeport.
Dugan spotted Sage sitting on a park bench in the square, her face buried in her hands, her body trembling.
He headed across the square to join her. If Gandt wouldn’t find Sage’s son for her, he would.
* * *
SAGE WAS SO ANGRY she was shaking all over. Sheriff Gandt had stonewalled her before.
But how could he dismiss her so easily now that they knew that Ron Lewis had been murdered?
Ron’s face flashed in her mind, and her stomach revolted. She’d been such a fool to trust him. Why had he taken her son with him that day? Where was he going?
And who had killed him?
The questions ate at her. None of it made sense.
Ron had waltzed into her life and charmed her with his good looks, his business sense and his talk of giving the town a face-lift and bringing in tourism. Tourists would have greatly impacted her income, so she’d been on board from the beginning.
Maybe that was the one reason he’d warmed up to her. Had he thought she could influence the town council with his plans for putting Cobra Creek on the map?
Footsteps crunched on gravel, and she suddenly felt someone beside her. A hand on her shoulder.
She jerked her head up, wiping at the tears streaming down her face, and stared into Dugan Graystone’s dark eyes. The man was a rebel of sorts and was the only person she’d ever known to go up against the sheriff.
High cheekbones sculpted an angular face, evidence of his Native American roots. His chiseled face was bronzed from work on the ranch, his hands were broad and strong looking, his big body made for ranching and working the land.
Or for a woman.
She silently chided herself. Just because she felt vulnerable and needy, and Dugan was strong and powerful looking, didn’t mean she’d fall prey to his charms.
No man would ever get close to her again.
“What do you want?” Sage asked, a little more harshly than she’d intended.
Dugan’s eyes flared at her tone. “Gandt is a first-class jerk.”
His comment deflated her anger, and a nervous laugh escaped her. “Yes, he is.”
“He said he’d look into Lewis’s murder.”
“Sure
