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 pulse hammered. “As a matter of fact, I do. I’ll send it over right now, Howard. But please keep this between you and me.”
“Sure, Megan. What’s going on?”
“I just want to double-check for myself.”
He agreed to call her when he was done, and she decided she’d talk to Deputy Whitefeather while she waited on the results. He would know if Joe had any enemies.
She didn’t want to bother Joe’s sons unless she had something concrete.
The thought of seeing the deputy again stirred a hot sensation deep in her belly. She’d met Roan when he worked on the res on the tribal council.
When his mother died, she’d performed the autopsy. Roan had been devastated. His mother was all the family he had.
She’d hated to see the big, strong man in pain. A comforting hug had led to a kiss. A kiss filled with such loneliness that she hadn’t been able to resist. They’d made love for hours.
Sometimes at night when she was alone, she closed her eyes and could still feel his big, strong hands touching her, stroking her, loving her. She’d never felt anything so intense.
But the next morning, he’d walked away from her and hadn’t spoken to her since.
What would he say if she showed up with questions about Joe McCullen’s death?
* * *
ROAN CONGRATULATED THE happy couple before he drove back to the cabin he’d rented on the river. He missed the res, but working for the sheriff’s department meant he worked for all the people in Pistol Whip and the county it encompassed, so living in a neutral, more central location seemed wisest.
“Did you see anything suspicious tonight?” Maddox asked as they watched Scarlet toss the bouquet.
“No. I’ll ride across the property on my way home and take a look around, though.”
“Thanks.” Maddox shook his hand. “I appreciate you covering the office while Rose and I were gone. Brett said he was going to hire extra security for the ranch for a while, at least until we find out who set those fires. He’s rebuilding the barns and the main house is already done.”
“Extra security is not a bad idea,” Roan said. Maddox, Brett and Ray couldn’t keep up the ranch and do surveillance around the clock by themselves.
After all, on a spread this size, there were dozens of places for someone to hide.
Some blonde caught the bouquet, prompting squeals from the guests, and Maddox joined his wife on the dance floor.
Roan leaned against the edge of the makeshift bar they’d set up for the reception, his mouth watering for a cold beer. But he didn’t drink on the job.
The McCullen men danced and swayed with their wives, and for some odd reason, a pang hit him. They looked so damn happy.
They were family.
Something he didn’t have anymore.
Yet...they were his blood kin.
It doesn’t matter. You’re not going to tell them.
Hell, they’d probably think he was like Bobby Lowman, that he wanted something from them.
He wanted nothing but to live in peace. Caring about folks meant pain when they went away.
His mother’s face flashed in his mind. Truth be known, she was the only person in the world he’d ever loved.
His phone buzzed, and he checked the number, surprised to see Dr. Megan Lail’s name appear. Damn, he hadn’t seen her since last year, the night his mother died.
Since the night they’d...gotten hot and sweaty between the sheets.
Perspiration broke out on his brow and he swiped at it. It was the most erotic sex he’d ever had. For months he’d dreamed about it, woken up to an image of Megan’s breasts swaying above him as she impaled herself on his shaft. Of him pumping inside her, of her ivory skin blushing with passion and her soft moans of ecstasy filling the air.
The phone jarred him again, and he cursed and stepped aside, away from the festivities so he could hear. She was the ME, after all. She might have news about a case.
“Deputy Whitefeather.”
“Roan, it’s Dr. Lail. Megan.”
The sound of her husky voice triggered more memories of their lovemaking and made his body go rock hard.
He kept his reply short, afraid he’d give away the yearning in his voice if he said too much. “Yeah?”
“I need to see you.”
His breath stalled in his chest. She needed him? Instantly his thoughts turned to worry. What if the damn condoms hadn’t worked that night? They’d made love—how many times?
“Megan, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said softly, arousing tender feelings inside him. Feelings he didn’t want to have.
“Then why did you call?”
Her sharp intake indicated he’d been brusque.
“I’m sorry, if this is a bad time, I can call back.”
Now he had to know the reason for her call. “No, it’s fine. I’m standing guard at Ray McCullen’s wedding in case that arsonist strikes again.”
“That’s sort of the reason I called.”
He frowned, his gaze piercing the night as he pivoted to scan the pastures. “Do you have information that could help?”
“I’m not sure,” she said. “But I had some questions about Joe McCullen’s
