Fortune's Woman / A Fortune Wedding: Fortune's Woman. Kristin Hardy
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“Yes,” she murmured.
The police chief slipped a huge navy windbreaker over her blood-stained clothing, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders. By all appearances, it looked as if he were consoling the grieving widow but Julie saw the implacable set to his muscles, as if he expected the slight woman to make a break for it any moment.
Ross watched after them, his jaw tight. “This is a fricking nightmare,” he growled. “Unbelievable.”
“Do you need help finding your nephew? I was coming to find you and suggest you look for him. It would be terrible for him to stumble onto this scene without knowing the…the victim was his father.”
He muttered an expletive. “You’re right. I should have thought of that before. I should have gone to look for him right away.”
“I’ll help you,” she said. “We can split up. You take the midway and I’ll head to the dance.”
He blinked at the offer. “Why would you want to do that? You’ve already been dragged far enough into this.”
He wouldn’t get any arguments from her on that score. She would much rather be home in her quiet, solitary house than wandering through a crowd looking for a boy whose world was about to change forever.
She shrugged. “You need help.”
He eyes widened with astonishment, and she wondered why he found a simple offer of assistance so very shocking.
“Thanks, then,” he mumbled.
“No problem. Do you have a picture of Josh?”
“A picture?”
“I can’t find him if I don’t know what he looks like,” she pointed out gently.
“Oh right. Of course.”
He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket, and she was more charmed than she had any right to be when he opened an accordion fold in the wallet and slid out a photograph of a smiling young man with dark-blond hair, brown eyes and handsome features.
“I’m almost certain I’ve seen him around at the Foundation but the picture will help immensely,” she said. “I’ll be careful with it.”
“I have more,” Ross answered.
“We should exchange cell phone numbers so we can contact each other if either of us finds him.”
“Good idea,” he said. He rattled off a number, which she quickly entered into her phone, then she gave him hers in return.
“Now that you mention cell phones, it occurs to me that I should have thought of that first,” Ross said. “Let me try to reach Josh on his phone. Maybe I can track him down and meet him somewhere away from here.”
She waited while he dialed, impatient at even a few more moments of delay. The longer they waited, the more likely Josh would accidentally stumble onto his father’s body and the murder scene.
After a moment, Ross made a face and left a message on the boy’s voice mail for him to call him as soon as possible.
“He’s not answering. I guess we’re back to the original plan. I’ll cover the midway and you see if you can find him at the dance.”
“Deal. I’ll call you if I find him.”
“Right back at you. And Ms. Osterman? Thank you.”
She flashed him a quick smile, though even that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances. “Julie, please.”
He nodded and they each took off in separate directions. She quickly made her way to the dance, though she was forced to virtually ignore several acquaintances on her way, greeting them with only a wave instead of her usual conversation. She would have to explain later and hope they understood.
She expected Ross’s call at any moment but to her dismay, her phone still hadn’t rung by the time she reached the dance.
Country swing music throbbed from the speakers and the plank-covered dance floor was full. Finding Josh in this throng would be a challenge, especially when she knew him only from a photograph.
She scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces. Finally, she found two girls she had worked with at the Foundation standing with a larger group.
“Hey, Ms. O.” They greeted her with a warmth she found gratifying.
“Hey, Katie. Hi, Jo. I could use your help. I’m trying to find a boy.”
“Aren’t we all?” Jo said with a roll of eyes heavily framed in mascara.
Julie smiled. “A particular boy, actually. It’s kind of serious. Do either of you know Josh Fredericks?”
“Sure,” Katie answered promptly. “He’s in my algebra class. He’s kind of cute, even if he is super smart.”
“Have you seen him lately? Tonight?”
“Yeah. It’s weird. Usually he doesn’t go two inches away from his girlfriend but I saw him by himself earlier, over by the refreshments. I think that was a while ago. Maybe an hour. He might have ditched the place by now.”
“Thanks,” she answered and headed in the direction they pointed.
She found Josh right where Katie had indicated, standing near the refreshment table as if he were waiting for someone. She recognized him instantly from the picture Ross had provided. He was wearing a western-cut shirt and a black Stetson, just like half the other men here, and she could see his dark-blond hair and brown eyes like his uncle’s.
She didn’t know whether to feel relief or dismay at finding him. She did not want to have to explain to him why she was searching for him. She quickly texted Ross that she had located his nephew at the dance and waited close by, intending only to keep an eye on him until Ross arrived to handle things.
He looked upset, she thought after a moment of observing him. His color was high and he kept looking toward the door as if waiting for someone to arrive.
Did he already know about his father? No, she couldn’t imagine it. Why would he linger here at the dance if he knew his father had just been killed?
After two or three minutes, Josh suddenly looked at his watch, then set down his cup on a nearby tray.
Rats. She was going to have to talk to him, she realized, as he started heading for the door. She waited until he walked out into the much cooler night air before she caught up to him.
“Are you Josh?”
He blinked a little, obviously startled to find a strange older woman talking to him. “Yeah,” he said slowly, not bothering to conceal his wariness.
“My name is Julie Osterman. I work at the Fortune Foundation with your mother’s cousin Susan.”
“Okay.” He took a sidestep away from her and she sighed.
“Josh,