the attempt on my older sister’s life and then finding out about having a sister we never knew existed.”
“I read about what’s been happening with your family. Finding out you have another sister must’ve been a shock. And then her life was in jeopardy. Right?” she asked.
“Madelyn had an ex-boyfriend with a violent streak who tracked her down and attempted to kill her,” he said. “We’re damn grateful the criminals in both cases have been caught.”
“Neither was connected to your father’s murder?” Carrie asked.
“We thought Ella’s might have been at first. Now, we know different. The Mav’s killer is still at large. Every new threat against the family has more reporters descending on Cattle Barge.”
“How’s everyone doing?” Carrie asked.
“It’s been rough.”
“I can imagine.” The note of compassion in her voice struck him, threatening to shed light in a dark place hidden behind layers of anger, frustration and regret.
“But we’re finding a new normal. Everyone’s looking out for each other.” Dade needed to armor up, and the best way to do that was to redirect the conversation. “The sheriff will need a description and the name of the guy from the alley.”
“That’s not a problem. Unless... Actually, I don’t know his last name. He introduced himself as Nash, and I never asked for his last name.” Her voice was still shaky. “He gave me the creeps every time he came into the shop.”
“A first name and description will go a long way toward helping the sheriff find him. If memory serves, the workers usually leave town early in the morning. Sheriff Sawmill or one of his deputies should have no problem locating this guy tonight.” How many men by the name of Nash could be employed by the festival?
Carrie’s cell buzzed inside her purse, and the unexpected noise caused her to jump.
“Sorry.” She stuck her hand inside the bag and came up with her phone. After checking the screen, she refused to take the call.
“Does Nash have your number?” Dade doubted it, but the question had to be asked.
“I wouldn’t give personal information to a stranger.” Her indignant tone said he’d offended her.
“He might’ve gotten it from someone else or the internet,” he offered by way of explanation.
“The phone call was my ex-boyfriend,” she stated with the kind of emphasis on the ex that said there was a story there.
Dade hadn’t thought to ask if there was someone special in her life. It made sense there would be, with her looks. A burst of light zapped his chest at the thought that she was single.
“We broke up recently, and he didn’t take it well.” Her cheeks flushed, and he wondered if he was making her feel uncomfortable talking about her relationships. He tried not to think about his, although the wounds were still fresh.
“How bad was it?” he asked.
“He said things I know he didn’t mean. He just needs time to cool off.” She shrugged it off, like it didn’t bother her, but he could tell by her tone that it did.
“That’s nothing to take lightly.” Considering one of his siblings had just been targeted by a murderous ex-boyfriend, Dade figured he owed Carrie a warning. “What happened?”
“Brett said a few things he didn’t mean. He was hurt and it came out as anger,” she defended. “He’s most likely trying to apologize. Things got a little heated.”
“It’s none of my business, but I wasn’t kidding. Take his threats seriously.” He pulled into the parking lot of the sheriff’s office and found a good spot. There was a flurry of activity. A news reporter spotted them and made a beeline toward his truck. Damn. He hadn’t anticipated this, but he should’ve. Seeing Carrie again threw him off-balance. “We could drive around the block a few times until the swarm calms down.”
“It’ll be fine.” Her voice sounded anything but.
Flashes started going off through the truck windows, blinding Dade.
Carrie’s arm came up to shield her eyes.
“I’d understand if you didn’t want to be seen with me right now,” he offered.
She touched his hand, and the contact sent electricity rocketing through him, searching for an outlet. “This is awful.”
“Yep,” he agreed. “They’re camped out everywhere. I take a breath and it’s on the news with some shrink or expert analyzing it.”
“I’ve seen some of the coverage. No one should have to go through this.” Carrie took in the kind of breath meant to fortify someone. Dade should know. It was a little too familiar. He’d done the same countless times since this whole ordeal began.
From the outside, their family probably did look perfect. No one knew the real truth. And it was too late to change the past.
“I’m ready whenever you are,” she stated with a squeeze.
“Keep your face down and feet moving. I’ll meet you around the back of the truck.” He shoved his door open, pushing back the swarm, and then hopped out. Making his way to the back of the truck proved a challenge with all the cameras in his face, but he took his own advice. The brim of his Stetson blocked out some of the shocking blasts of lights that had the effect of fireworks being lit inches from his face.
A sense of calm settled over him when he looked up and saw Carrie moving toward him. Something felt very right in that moment. He chalked it up to nostalgia. Losing his father had him wishing he could go back. Change the past. He couldn’t. So, it wouldn’t do any good to make useless wishes.
Dade ignored the stirring in his chest that tried to convince him being around her again was a good idea.
“Take my arm.” He held it out, and she took it. More of those frustrating zings of electricity coursed through him. Way to keep the hormones in check around a beautiful woman, Butler.
Reporters tried to follow him and Carrie inside the lobby, but a deputy quickly reacted, forcing them outside.
In the next minute, he and Carrie were being ushered into a hallway. He recognized the building all too well. He’d been there countless times since his father’s murder. Always with the same result—no solid leads. A conference room had been converted into a makeshift command center where volunteers took shifts answering phones, jotting down leads. At least a dozen intake spots were set up around the long mahogany conference table. The room sounded like a Jerry Lewis telethon with the constantly ringing phones, hushed voices and volunteers with their heads hunkered down, speaking quietly into receivers.
The sheriff’s office was large, simple. There was a huge desk, also mahogany, with an executive chair and two flags on poles standing sentinel on either side. A picture of the governor was centered in between the poles. Two smaller-scale leather chairs nestled near the desk. A sofa and table with a bronze statue of a bull with rider sitting astride it—commissioned by Dade’s father—sat to one side of the room. Dade had been surprised to see the statue in the sheriff’s office. But then, Mike Butler always had a few cards up his sleeve, and he’d been a complicated man.
Dade’s oldest sibling, his sister Ella, kept talking about how she felt like their father was still watching over the family. She’d gotten closure from a note their father had given her days before his death. Dade was happy for his sister—finality and peace were two very good things—but his relationship with the old man couldn’t have been more different. And he’d known the minute his father snatched a toy away from him at age seven and told him to quit wasting time and get to work that his father didn’t look at him in the same light.
Expectations for Mike Butler’s sons took on a whole new level. Dade and his twin brother, Dalton, had endured,