Renegade (Tin Star K9 Series Book 1) by Jodi Burnett (literature books to read .txt) 📗

was shot right here and then buried. The shallowness of the grave makes me wonder if covering her with dirt was an afterthought.”

“Have you found the bullet, Officer Dunn? The entrance wound is at the back of the victim’s skull, and there is a clear exit wound out the front.”

“Still sifting.”

“The sheriff already has the casing in evidence,” Colt said.

Dunn’s expression soured. She shook her head and mumbled something under her breath before scooping more dirt into her grate.

The doctor removed a heavy black zippered bag from his duffle and spread it on the ground next to Wendy’s body. “Let’s bag the body and seal it up. I’ll finish my examination at the clinic.” He nodded to Colt and counted to three. Together they lifted Wendy into the bag. Doctor Kennedy zipped it up and sealed it with a labeled zip-tie. “I guess we’ll have to transport the body by ATV down to the ranch where my station wagon is.”

“Found it!” Dunn held up a wrinkled ball of metal with a large pair of tweezers. “Plenty of organic tissue still on this, Doc. The lab won’t have any trouble making the connection.” She placed the spent bullet inside a small paper bag to preserve the DNA.

Colt and the doctor waited with Officer Dunn while she finished collecting samples. It was late afternoon before she was ready to go. They strapped the body on the back of Colt’s ATV, and slowly they descended to the ranch.

She was there, by the barn. Several strands of long chestnut hair blew in the breeze, having escaped her braid. If he wasn’t transporting the dead, he would have stopped and watched her move through her chores—tough like her brothers, yet graceful as a dancer. His next whiff of the remaining Noxzema brought him back to the reality of the day, and he drove his cargo to the back end of Doc Kennedy’s ancient station wagon. Colt helped load the body into the car and saw the doctor on his way.

Before she left, Officer Dunn explained she would take all the evidence she collected down to the Crime Lab in Cheyenne. “Expect a preliminary report from them in the next few days. Any DNA testing will take longer—that can take up to two months.”

Colt thanked her and helped her get her equipment into her oddly shaped car.

“How did it go?” Caitlyn’s voice curled like sultry smoke up his spine.

He turned to face her, taking in the light spray of brown freckles on the bridge of her nose. “Looks like it’s fairly cut and dried.”

Caitlyn’s deep mahogany eyes searched his. “Was it Wendy?”

Colt shifted his gaze to the distant ridge and nodded. “Yeah. Don’t say anything until the official report comes out, though. We need to let Wendy’s family know first.” He swung his focus back to her. “Now, we have to find the killer.”

Caitlyn covered her mouth with her fingers, and her eyes misted. “It’s so awful.”

Colt rubbed her shoulder in comfort, wanting to pull her into his arms. He resisted, certain that her response would not be encouraging. “Can I ask you a favor?”

She tilted her head in question.

He smiled self-consciously. “Would you mind giving me a ride into town? I came with the sheriff this morning, but he left with Dylan.” Colt’s belly rolled like a river of leaping salmon as he waited for her to answer. After all these years, this woman still made him feel like an awkward teenager—all nerves and paltry confidence.

“I’ve got to feed the calves and the horses, but you can borrow my truck.” Caitlyn stepped off toward the barn, shouting over her shoulder, “Keys are in the ignition. Bring it back with my brother.” She waved without turning around and with pleasure, he watched her hips sway as she strode off.

Colt climbed into Caitlyn’s pickup and took the forest highway to Moose Creek. The cab of the truck smelled like her. He ran his fingers over the various strings of things she had hanging from her rearview mirror and smiled at the seemingly random collection. Once he got to town, he made his way down Main Street, past the café and other shops, before pulling up in front of the Sheriff’s Office. He parked on the street and entered the small brick building.

The office contained two desks and a single jail cell with a cot in the back-left corner. Behind Colt’s desk, was a narrow cabinet with an old coffeemaker on the counter. By the smell of things, it was currently distilling the morning’s brew into tar. Dylan sat in a wooden chair stationed in front of Tackett, who perched on the edge of his desk.

The sheriff looked up when Colt came through the door. “CSI get there alright?”

“Yes, they just left. How are things going here?”

“Slow.” Tackett sipped from a stained coffee mug.

Colt approached Tackett and lowered his voice so only he could hear. “It’s not for me to question your tactics, sir. But don’t you think it’s unusual to bring someone in for questioning who in all likelihood knows as little as you do—maybe even less? He probably would have been more cooperative if you questioned him at home.”

“There is a history between Reed and Wendy Gessler. I want to put him off his game—find out about their past and see if he had anything to do with Wendy’s disappearance. It’s a mighty big coincidence that the girl goes missing and three days later a body is found on his property. Don’t you think?”

Colt’s abdomen tightened, and he cocked his jaw. He didn’t like the direction of the sheriff’s thoughts. He’d known Dylan and the Reed family most of his life, and it was hard to get his mind around the idea that Dylan had anything to do with Wendy’s death. For now, Colt would keep the victim’s identity to himself. He’d let the coroner do the reporting.

Earlier, Colt had wanted to comfort Caitlyn, and it wasn’t simply her reaction that gave him pause. The truth