A noise sounded from the hill to the right, and he pivoted, senses honed. Since they still hadn’t apprehended the person responsible for the fires, he had to keep an eye out for trouble. With the entire family in celebratory mode, their guards were down. Which would give anyone with a grudge against the McCullens the perfect opportunity to attack.
Maddox, the town sheriff and Roan’s boss, stepped in front of the group gathered on the lawn by the creek and raised his champagne glass to toast the happy couple.
For a moment envy mushroomed inside him as he watched Ray kiss Scarlet, and the other brothers and their wives congratulating and hugging one another.
They had weathered some storms, but they were one big happy family now.
The only family he’d ever known was his mother and the people on the res.
He didn’t need family or anyone else, he reminded himself.
Still, he’d protect the McCullens because it was his job. And his job was all that mattered to him.
Although questions nagged at him. If Joe McCullen had known about Roan, would he have spent time with him? Would he have brought him to Horseshoe Creek and introduced him to his half brothers?
Or would he have hidden him away like he had his other illegitimate son Bobby Lowman?
The wind blew the trees rustling the leaves, and he scanned the horizon again. The ranch spread for hundreds of miles, livestock and horses roaming the pastures. Joe McCullen had definitely built a legacy here for his sons. And although Ray and Brett had been gone for years, they’d recently returned and planned to help Maddox run the ranch.
Someone didn’t want the McCullens to thrive, though. Someone who might have a grudge against Joe besides his mistress and son, Bobby. For all he knew, the problems could be about the land or the way Joe did business.
Hell, if Maddox, Brett or Ray knew Roan was blood related, they might accuse him of sabotage.
All the more reason to keep quiet about who he was.
And all the more reason to keep his questions about Joe’s death to himself until he found out if there was any substance to his suspicions.
* * *
DR. MEGAN LAIL finished her autopsy report on a man named Morty Burns, a ranch hand who’d been shot and left dead outside Pistol Whip, Wyoming. So far, the police had no idea who’d shot him, but she’d done her job—established time and cause of death and recovered the bullet that had taken the man’s life.
She had been infatuated with dead bodies since her sister’s murder. Not that she enjoyed the morbid side of death, but the bodies told the story.
Just as she’d been driven to know who killed Shelly, family members deserved to know the answers about their loved ones. And it was comforting to know she could help give them closure.
Still, her father had been disappointed in her. He’d raved about Shelly and her beauty, constantly reminding Megan that she hadn’t been graced with extraordinary looks, that she had to use her brain to get anywhere in life. She hadn’t minded that at all. Science had always interested her.
When Shelly had been killed and investigators had converged, she’d realized that the medical examiner was the one who’d discovered the clue that led to the culprit. Sitting at the trial with her father, she’d decided she wanted to be an ME.
She removed her gloves, filed her report, then clicked to the news and studied the story about the recent arrest of Bobby and Barbara Lowman made by Deputy Roan Whitefeather and the sheriff. The arrests had hit big in Pistol Whip because they centered around the McCullens of Horseshoe Creek and revealed that the patriarch of the family, Joe, who had recently died, had another family on the side.
A mistress named Barbara and an illegitimate son, Bobby.
Bobby had resented Joe for years, and his mother Barbara felt betrayed because Joe never married her. They’d also been upset over the stipulations Joe placed on the will regarding Bobby’s inheritance, that Bobby would have to work under the tutelage of Maddox.
They’d pulled a gun on Scarlet and threatened the family, and both were in prison. But neither admitted to setting the two fires on the ranch, one of which had ruined the family’s long-standing home.
More details followed in the article.
Former rodeo star Brett McCullen has offered a $10,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of the arsonist.
Megan massaged her temple as her mind took a leap. Something had been bothering her about Joe McCullen’s autopsy.
Her curious nature, the attribute that helped her most in her job, pummeled her with what-ifs. What if Joe’s death hadn’t been due to his illness?
She’d detected something odd about the tox screen and relayed her concerns to Dr. Cumberland, the McCullens’ family doctor and Joe’s lifelong friend.
The conversation replayed in her head.
“You’re young and new to this, Megan. You obviously made a mistake,” Dr. Cumberland had said. “I took care of Joe during his illness. He had emphysema. Just look at his X-rays and scans.”
She’d looked at them and Joe had in fact had emphysema. “But there are slight traces of a toxin indicating he was poisoned. It appears to be cyanide.”
Dr. Cumberland had scanned her notes and scowled. “Run the tests again. This can’t be right.”
Megan had gone to the lab, extracted another sample and sent it to be tested. An hour later, Dr. Cumberland had hand delivered the report to her.
“See, there is no sign of poison. The lab tech mixed up the reports. The result you first received was for another case.”
Yet the fact that someone was trying to hurt the McCullens bothered her. She was meticulous in her work and never made mistakes.
And she couldn’t let this go without one more look. Adrenaline pumping, she accessed the autopsy file. Guilt nagged at her for questioning Dr. Cumberland, though.
The family physician had worked in Pistol Whip for years. Everyone in town adored him. For goodness’ sake, he’d delivered half the town’s babies, including the McCullen boys, Maddox, Brett and Ray.
And he had been distraught over Joe’s death.
He wouldn’t have had any reason to lie to her or cover up a tox report.
But...something just didn’t feel right. She didn’t think she’d made a mistake...
She picked up the phone and called the lab tech, a young guy named Howard, then explained about the two different results.
“I guess it’s possible that I mixed them up,” Howard said. “But I double-check everything. I’m OCD that way.”
So was she. In their line of work, details were important.
Howard cleared his throat. “If you still have a sample I can retest.”
Megan’s
