off these gloves?” he asked.
“Sure.” She kept the rifle close as she peeled the leather glove from his right hand.
“I can get the other one,” he said and pulled gingerly on the fingers, obviously in pain when the motion jarred his injured arm. She couldn’t imagine how he was carrying on as though nothing had happened when it must hurt like hell.
“Okay, now what?” she prompted.
“Let me tell you what I know, and if you want to further enlighten me, that would be great.”
“Okay,” she said hesitantly.
“I know I wounded our gunman and he left on his snowmobile. I don’t know how badly he’s hurt, if he went to fix himself up or get reinforcements and is on his way back. I don’t know who it is, if the same person killed Mike, or why anyone would want to do any of this.”
She nodded.
“I also know you were here last fall. Don’t look so startled. There’s a relatively recent picture of you and Mike and Skipjack standing out in the yard. It’s on top of the mantel.”
She glanced over, saw the photo and swore under her breath. How had she managed to overlook that? And yet, how touching that her father had cared enough to stick it up where he could see it once in a while.
“I know you drove here earlier today and parked in the barn, out of sight,” Nate continued. “I also know it’s your car, that you were looking for something and that from the way you’re acting, you haven’t found it. How am I doing?”
“Not perfect,” she said, but there was a flower of calm beginning to bud in her chest and that in itself should have been setting off alarms. Since getting to Reno two days ago, she’d been moving like a hamster on a wheel and making just about as much progress. Now Nate was close to figuring her out and she almost wanted to help him go the last distance. That was a horrible sign of weakness her mom couldn’t afford. Nate’s life was law enforcement; he was a man who liked order, who valued the truth. Sarah swallowed hard as her fingers twitched on the gun. “How did you know I got here earlier?”
“There were no tracks on the road when I arrived. The weather must have gone downhill after you pulled into the barn.”
She looked away from his intense gaze.
“Your dad didn’t even know you were here while you searched the barn, did he?” he added.
She thought before she spoke, weighing the wisdom of engaging in this conversation, deciding at last a little truth couldn’t hurt. He’d kind of gotten to her when he’d expressed that unwarranted—from his point of view—faith in her. She’d remain wary and on the defensive, but a little chat couldn’t hurt, could it? “He wasn’t home when I got here.”
“Obviously, he returned.”
“Obviously. I heard his truck. I knew he was planning on driving into Shatterhorn this afternoon, so I was surprised he’d come back to the ranch.”
“You knew his plans?”
“Yeah. I talked to him a couple of days ago.”
“So you chose a time to visit when he’d be gone.”
One of her shoulders lifted a little. Man, she sounded like a coldhearted bitch, even to her own ears. Of course, her dad hadn’t helped any.
“Because you needed to find something that you didn’t want him to know you were looking for,” Nate added.
“More or less. My plan was to search the house first, but he came home almost at once, so I started with the barn. After a while, I heard another car and looked outside again. A silver sedan had parked next to Dad’s old truck. A man was just going into the house.”
Nate suddenly straightened in the chair, his gaze sharpening. “Who was it?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“But it might have been his killer.”
“I know that now. If I’d run outside maybe I could have stopped Dad’s murder, but at the time, I just thought it was a friend or something.”
“What kind of car was it?”
She shrugged. “A newish one. I don’t know what model or make. I only saw it from the side,
“Sure.” She kept the rifle close as she peeled the leather glove from his right hand.
“I can get the other one,” he said and pulled gingerly on the fingers, obviously in pain when the motion jarred his injured arm. She couldn’t imagine how he was carrying on as though nothing had happened when it must hurt like hell.
“Okay, now what?” she prompted.
“Let me tell you what I know, and if you want to further enlighten me, that would be great.”
“Okay,” she said hesitantly.
“I know I wounded our gunman and he left on his snowmobile. I don’t know how badly he’s hurt, if he went to fix himself up or get reinforcements and is on his way back. I don’t know who it is, if the same person killed Mike, or why anyone would want to do any of this.”
She nodded.
“I also know you were here last fall. Don’t look so startled. There’s a relatively recent picture of you and Mike and Skipjack standing out in the yard. It’s on top of the mantel.”
She glanced over, saw the photo and swore under her breath. How had she managed to overlook that? And yet, how touching that her father had cared enough to stick it up where he could see it once in a while.
“I know you drove here earlier today and parked in the barn, out of sight,” Nate continued. “I also know it’s your car, that you were looking for something and that from the way you’re acting, you haven’t found it. How am I doing?”
“Not perfect,” she said, but there was a flower of calm beginning to bud in her chest and that in itself should have been setting off alarms. Since getting to Reno two days ago, she’d been moving like a hamster on a wheel and making just about as much progress. Now Nate was close to figuring her out and she almost wanted to help him go the last distance. That was a horrible sign of weakness her mom couldn’t afford. Nate’s life was law enforcement; he was a man who liked order, who valued the truth. Sarah swallowed hard as her fingers twitched on the gun. “How did you know I got here earlier?”
“There were no tracks on the road when I arrived. The weather must have gone downhill after you pulled into the barn.”
She looked away from his intense gaze.
“Your dad didn’t even know you were here while you searched the barn, did he?” he added.
She thought before she spoke, weighing the wisdom of engaging in this conversation, deciding at last a little truth couldn’t hurt. He’d kind of gotten to her when he’d expressed that unwarranted—from his point of view—faith in her. She’d remain wary and on the defensive, but a little chat couldn’t hurt, could it? “He wasn’t home when I got here.”
“Obviously, he returned.”
“Obviously. I heard his truck. I knew he was planning on driving into Shatterhorn this afternoon, so I was surprised he’d come back to the ranch.”
“You knew his plans?”
“Yeah. I talked to him a couple of days ago.”
“So you chose a time to visit when he’d be gone.”
One of her shoulders lifted a little. Man, she sounded like a coldhearted bitch, even to her own ears. Of course, her dad hadn’t helped any.
“Because you needed to find something that you didn’t want him to know you were looking for,” Nate added.
“More or less. My plan was to search the house first, but he came home almost at once, so I started with the barn. After a while, I heard another car and looked outside again. A silver sedan had parked next to Dad’s old truck. A man was just going into the house.”
Nate suddenly straightened in the chair, his gaze sharpening. “Who was it?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“But it might have been his killer.”
“I know that now. If I’d run outside maybe I could have stopped Dad’s murder, but at the time, I just thought it was a friend or something.”
“What kind of car was it?”
She shrugged. “A newish one. I don’t know what model or make. I only saw it from the side,
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