* *
ROAN’S GUT CHURNED with the news of Joe McCullen’s murder.
For a fraction of a second, he considered the possibility that this could have been a mercy killing. Mama Mary supposedly loved the McCullens like family—she’d taken care of Joe during his illness.
What if she’d hated seeing him suffer and decided to speed death along?
Although slowly poisoning someone was not merciful. If Mama Mary or someone else, say Dr. Cumberland, had wanted to keep Joe from suffering, he or she would have found a faster way.
As he drove down the long winding drive to the main farmhouse at Horseshoe Creek, he scanned the property. It was an impressive spread. Now it belonged to Joe’s three sons.
Horses galloped across the fields while cattle grazed in the pastures. Brett had brought more horses in to train and planned to offer riding lessons and was rebuilding the barns that burned down. He’d taken his wife, Willow, and his son away for a couple of weeks in hopes Maddox would track down the culprit sabotaging the McCullens.
Hopefully Maddox would arrest Romley and the trouble would end.
But the fact that Joe had been murdered changed everything. Was Gates responsible? Or...Barbara or Bobby?
Sunshine slanted across the graveled drive and farmhouse as he parked. The ground was dry from lack of rain, although winds stirred dust and scattered leaves and twigs across the yard. Hopefully spring would come soon with warmer weather, new growth and the ranch could get back on track.
But he wouldn’t be a part of it. He didn’t belong.
Still, he had to get justice for his father.
The sound of cattle echoed above the low whine of the wind, and he spotted a cowboy at the top of the hill herding the cows toward the pasture to the east.
A gray cloud moved across the sky shrouding the sun as he strode up to the front porch.
He knocked, noting that the repairs on the house were complete.
He knocked again, then heard shuffling inside. “Hang on to your britches, I’m coming.”
Roan shifted and scanned the perimeter of the property again, searching for anyone lurking around, but nothing suspicious stood out. A second later, Mama Mary lumbered to the door and opened it.
The scent of cinnamon wafted toward Roan, making his mouth water.
The short, chubby lady wiped her hands on her apron as she invited him in. She’d wound a bandana around her chin-length brown curls and flour dusted her blouse and apron. Her brown eyes were so warm and loving that Roan couldn’t help but envy the McCullens. Although alarm tinged them at the sight of him. “Deputy Whitefeather, Is something wrong? Did you hear from Maddox?”
“Maddox is fine,” Roan assured her. “I spoke to him earlier today. He has a lead on Stan Romley.”
Relief softened her face. “Thank goodness. Maybe they’ll lock him up, and my boys can get back to work here on the ranch where they belong.”
Her boys. She said it with such affection that if he’d ever considered the possibility of her doing something to hurt the family, that thought vanished like dust in the wind.
“May I come in? I’d like to ask you some questions.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Something is wrong. Something you don’t want to say.”
Roan jammed his hands in his pockets. She was damned intuitive. “I’m just trying to help Maddox identify the arsonist.”
She nodded, although she scrutinized his face as if she didn’t quite believe him. Still, she waved him in. “You want some tea or coffee?”
“Coffee would be good,” he said. Maybe it would put them both at ease if he at least acted like this was informal, not a hunting expedition. Although, if she knew her boss and family friend had been murdered, he had a feeling she would want to help.
She gestured toward the den where a fire crackled in the fireplace, and she disappeared into the kitchen while he surveyed the room. A family picture of Joe and his three sons hung on one wall—the boys were teenagers then. A bookshelf held other pictures, a couple of Joe and the woman who must have been his wife, Grace. A third one showed Grace holding a baby in her arms with two toddlers beside her—Ray had to be the baby, Maddox and Brett the toddlers.
How would she have reacted if she’d known that Joe had another son at that time? Roan was probably just a few months older than Maddox.
His hand stroked his wallet where he kept a picture of his mother. There had been no father in the picture because she’d chosen not to tell Joe about him. What would Joe have done if he’d known? Would he have offered to marry Roan’s mother?
Would he have grown up a McCullen and lived on a ranch like this?
A wave of disappointment hit him, but he tamped it back. No use wondering. It hadn’t happened.
Footsteps sounded, and Mama Mary waddled in carrying a tray with a coffee craft, two mugs and a plate of cinnamon rolls. She set them on the coffee table, handed him a plate with a cinnamon roll on it, then served them both a mug and offered cream and sugar.
“Black is fine,” he said as he cradled the warm mug in his hand. Even the coffee cups had an M on them for McCullen, another reminder that if his mother had married Joe, that would have been his last name, too.
Mama Mary studied him with a frown. “All right, what’s really going on, Deputy? Maddox is after Romley and we know that he worked for Boyle Gates, the man Maddox put away for cattle rustling. I’m aware you all looked into his cousin Bennett. Do you have new information?”
He sipped his coffee, choosing his words carefully. “We’re still hoping that Romley will give us a confession regarding the fires.”
“So why are you here?”
Roan nodded. “The last few months Joe was sick, Dr. Cumberland came often to check on him?”
She nodded, then stirred sugar into her coffee. “Almost every day. He and Joe went way back. He even delivered Joe’s boys.”
Except for him. And Bobby. But they obviously didn’t count. “Joe and Boyle Gates had trouble?”
Mama Mary sighed. “Well, I guess you could say that. Boyle tried to get Joe to sell some of his land to him. He wasn’t happy at all when Joe refused.”
“Did Gates visit Joe while he was sick?”
Mama Mary nodded. “A couple of times. I couldn’t believe he kept persisting. He must have thought that Joe was weak and would give in, but Joe was adamant that his ranch belonged to the McCullens and didn’t intend to let any of it go.”
Gates would have had to have administered the poison more than twice for it to show up in the tox screen. Maybe he hired someone to sneak it into Joe’s food or drink?
“How about other visitors?”
“Well,
