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

and he hung his head. After a breath, he returned his gaze to her. “Can we just forget it and finish talking about the case?”

“We’ve talked enough for tonight.” She needed him to leave. Caitlyn fought hard against the temptation of his kiss when everything inside her demanded more. She didn’t want him to realize how difficult it was for her to tell him to go.

Silently, Colt appraised her. Finally, he gave his head a shake, turned to the table to pick up his hat, and strode to the door. At the threshold, he turned back. “I’ll call you tomorrow when I find out the results of Hague’s paternity test.”

Caitlyn nodded, but she couldn’t speak. Her roiling emotions were a hot mess. Worry for Dylan, fear for the ranch, and the intense feelings she refused to acknowledge for Colt, but that warred against her heart, all jumbled together in a massive wad.

“Good night.” Colt reached down and gave Renegade a farewell pat before he walked out.

Caitlyn closed the door behind him and on her way to study her evidence wall, she grabbed another beer. Packing her emotions neatly back inside, she pulled a dining room chair over, centered it before the wall, and sat. Renegade lay at her feet, and resting his chin on her foot, released a long-suffering whine.

“I know you love him, Ren, but that doesn’t make him good for me. Let it go, bud.”

Renegade sighed.

From her position on the chair, she studied at the facts she knew at this point, while she slowly sipped the malty brew out of her fresh bottle. In her heart, she couldn’t imagine Dylan as a murderer. But it was possible that he was already feeling trapped by his responsibilities to a struggling ranch when Wendy told him she was carrying his baby. Maybe she did make financial demands he didn’t think he could manage. Still, that didn’t seem like enough reason to kill someone. Plus, if Dylan was going to shoot somebody, he would never shoot them in the back. He was a lot of things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. She sucked in another thoughtful swallow of beer.

But if not Dylan, then who? When someone gets murdered, the most obvious suspect is a spouse. Wendy wasn’t married, but she was about to become a mother. Whoever the father was should definitely be considered a suspect. That manner of thinking brought her back to Dylan… and Jim.

Jim appeared distraught. In fact, overly so. Caitlyn was eager to know the results of his paternity test. It would mean less to the case if Jim was the father, than if he wasn’t. And if someone else was the father, that qualified as a motive for Jim. A crime of passion. Caitlyn wrote Jim’s name under Dylan’s on the suspect list.

Of course, there was always the possibility that the murderer was a stranger. Either a crazed passerby or someone Wendy knew that no one else was aware of.

Next to draw Caitlyn’s perusal was the list of physical evidence. It told a story of Wendy alive until she faced the grave where she would eventually be buried. Her killer shot her in the back of the head. There was no sign of struggle, and as far as she knew, Dr. Kennedy had yet to find any evidence of someone else’s DNA under her fingernails or anywhere on her body. The fact that there was no sign of struggle anywhere pointed again to the idea that Wendy knew and trusted her murderer… unless she had been drugged. Did the coroner’s report say there were any drugs in her system? She’d ask Colt about that tomorrow.

Witnesses from the bar reported seeing both Dylan and Jim talking to Wendy on Friday night. Jim claimed Wendy was with Dylan when he’d last seen her. Dylan claims he never saw Jim and because he left before Wendy did, obviously doesn’t have any idea who she talked to after him. Freda, the bartender, agreed they were all three at the bar that night, but noticed nothing unusual about any of them. Nor could she say when they left. The sheriff and Colt were still trying to track down who was at the bar and whether there were any strangers there that evening.

It was going to be a long night waiting until dawn. Tomorrow, Dylan’s attorney would arrive and force the sheriff to release him from jail.

15

Caitlyn and Renegade were up early, heading into town to meet the attorney at the Sheriff’s Office. She hoped she would be driving Dylan home from jail by noon. The overcast sky added a definite chill to the day, so Caitlyn buttoned her Carhart jacket and cranked up the heat in the cab. As they pulled to the curb in front of the Sheriff’s Office, Caitlyn noticed two other cars parked in front. It seemed the office was already filled with people, so she cracked the windows and left Renegade in the truck. “You stay here, boy. I’ll be right back.”

Caitlyn pulled open the office door and stepped inside. Sheriff Tackett was behind his desk talking on the phone, and Jim Hague sat in the middle of the room looking flushed and agitated. Mr. and Mrs. Gessler stood behind him, and the poor woman had tucked her hand under her husband’s protective arm. Caitlyn scanned the room, her gaze settling on Colt, who leaned against the bars of the small cell in the corner. Behind those same bars stood her brother.

When Colt saw her enter, he walked across the room. “Good morning.” He studied her face. Caitlyn wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Perhaps encouragement—which he would not get. “Can I take your coat?”

“No thanks, I won’t be here that long. I’m just here to meet our attorney and take Dylan home.”

The sheriff hung up the phone and addressed Colt. “That was Reed’s attorney. He won’t be able to make it here this morning, but according to him, we have to let