He walked softly toward the door, then paused before entering. Wyatt had been one of the boys who had taken pleasure in beating Justin up. When Justin had grown big enough to hurt back, Wyatt had given up his game. Justin wondered if his old enemy knew who the new sheriff was.
He opened the door and stepped inside. The two men turned toward him. The stranger gave him a half smile, but Wyatt stared as if he’d seen a ghost.
“Evening, gentlemen,” Justin said. He walked closer to the men. “I’m Justin Kincaid, the new sheriff of Landing.”
The smaller, dark-haired man held out his hand. “Daniel Thomas, Sheriff. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” They shook hands. Justin studied the younger man, taking in the firm set of his jaw and the straightforward appraisal of his eyes.
“Thomas,” he said. “How long have you been in town?”
“About three weeks, sir. I worked as a deputy up North for a while. I’m sure excited about this job.”
“Good.” Justin turned his attention to the other man. “Evening, Wyatt.”
“Justin.” Wyatt’s blue eyes met his. Justin read the confusion there, the shock and anger. Then all the emotions were banished, and the other man smiled. “Welcome home.”
Justin walked over to his desk and picked up a piece of paper. “I’ve got a contract that says I’ll be here for a year. I won’t accept less than complete loyalty and obedience. You can either work with me, or move on. Which is it to be?”
Wyatt shifted his weight and brought his right hand up to rest on his waist, right above the butt of his pistol. Justin didn’t blink. He wasn’t armed, but that wasn’t something he cared about right now. Wyatt wasn’t going to draw, the man was just testing him. He didn’t mind the testing, what he cared about was Wyatt’s decision. He would rather be a man short than work with someone he couldn’t trust.
Thomas glanced from him to Wyatt, obviously confused. Wyatt stared at Justin. “I heard the name but didn’t believe it. If someone had told me we were going to meet in a sheriff’s office, I would have guessed you’d be on the other side of the bars.”
Justin smiled. Wyatt was right. After all the trouble he’d caused in town and the reason he’d been run off, it made sense to assume that. “I almost was,” he said. “But I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’ve been a deputy over five years. I’ve studied law, even been offered a turn at being a judge. My qualifications were enough for this town. I don’t give a damn about whether or not they’re good enough for you. I just want to know where you stand. I won’t watch my back. Either you’re with me, or you find yourself another job.”
Wyatt relaxed and dropped his hand to his side. “Take a good look at this man, Thomas. He broke my nose when we were both twelve. Did it again when I was fifteen. All right, Justin. I’ve learned my lesson, too. I’ll work with you.”
Justin’s gaze narrowed. That was too easy. He didn’t trust Wyatt.
Wyatt shrugged. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not only your besting me in a fight. We all know you didn’t beat up that woman. If you’d stuck around long enough, you would have found out for yourself that you were cleared of the accusation.”
Justin settled on a corner of his desk. “No one else was willing to wait around to find out I was innocent,” he said. “They were all anxious to attend a hanging. Leaving seemed best.”
Wyatt nodded. He walked two steps closer, then held out his hand. “My sister admitted to me that she was sweet on you. Told me she’d cornered you after a barn dance. Said she kissed you, and, ah, made it clear she wouldn’t say no. She told me you sent her back to her mama and warned her if she was foolish enough to make that offer to another man, she would find herself in more trouble than she could handle. I’m obliged to you for that.”
Justin took the man’s hand and they shook slowly, measuring each other. He still didn’t trust Wyatt, but he was willing to give him a chance.
Thomas still stared at the two of them, bewildered. “Sir, I don’t understand.”
“You will.” Justin slapped him on the shoulder. “I used to live here. I was a hell-raiser and troublemaker. My mother worked in a saloon, but she wasn’t a whore. I never knew my father and my parents didn’t marry. That makes me a bastard. Some would be happy to tell you that’s not the only thing, either. I work hard and I expect the same from my men. I hold on to my temper.” Except around Megan, he thought suddenly and had to fight back a grin. “I don’t allow drinking on duty, or gambling ever. Aside from that, what you do with your own time is your business. Any questions?”
Wyatt shook his head. Thomas gaped at him, apparently overwhelmed by the information and instructions.
“Thomas? You have a problem with any of that?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.” Justin took his seat, then lowered the box containing his belongings to the floor. “Anything been going on in town that I should know about, Wyatt?”
Wyatt walked over to his desk and picked up a couple of papers. “I was writing up a report for you. Everything has been quiet around here.” He handed Justin the sheets. “Except for the murder last month.”
“Murder?”
Wyatt shrugged. “Some saloon girl was found beaten to death on the edge of town.”
Justin stared at the other man. The coldness in his stomach quickly spread to the rest of his body. He was careful to keep his face expressionless as he studied the details of the case. There weren’t many. According to the report, Roberts, the previous sheriff, had investigated for a couple of days and had concluded that one of the many drifters who had been in town at that time had been responsible for the crime.
The hairs on the back of Justin’s neck stood up. Something wasn’t right. “What kind of sheriff was Roberts?” he asked without looking up.
“Decent. He kept the town clean.”
Not clean enough, Justin thought, fighting the ghosts that threatened to suffocate him. For a second, he entertained the notion that Roberts had ended the investigation because he’d been bought off. No way to prove that. But he didn’t like any of it—not the murder, the brief nature of the investigation or the fact that the victim was a saloon girl.
“According to this, he didn’t interview anyone but the saloon owner. There’s no proof she was murdered by a drifter.”
“If it wasn’t a drifter, then it had to have been someone in town,” Wyatt said. “That doesn’t make sense. Who would want to kill her?”
Justin had no answer for that. He glanced over the paper once more, then focused on her name.
Laurie Smith. The cold knot in his stomach tightened. She was the same woman who had been beaten up seven years before. She was the reason he’d been run out of town. He’d been accused of the crime. He hadn’t done it and as soon as she’d regained consciousness, she’d cleared his name. But it had been too late. He’d already left Landing, swearing he would never come back.
Well, he was back now. And a saloon girl had been murdered. In keeping with this town’s attitude about someone they thought was less respectable than themselves, no one gave a damn. But he did. It was possible the two crimes had been committed by the same person. And he damn well wanted to find out who.
“I want to reopen the investigation.”
He glanced up at Wyatt. The deputy shrugged. “You’re the boss.”
Justin set down the paper. He had something to prove to the town and himself. He would solve this. He had no choice. The case hit far too close to home.