Lone Heart Pass. Jodi Thomas

my own.”

      “You got it, lady,” he snapped as he nudged his horse ahead of her without looking back to see if she followed.

      All he’d done was help her up. She acted as though it was an assault. With his luck, she’d have him arrested when they found the sheriff.

      A few moments later, Lauren yelled, saying she’d spotted her father.

      Sheriff Brigman was riding toward them on a huge bay Charley recognized as part of the Kirkland stock.

      Lauren handed him an envelope and the sheriff instructed her and Thatcher to walk their horses down along the stream to search for anything that didn’t look as if it belonged in the canyon. Then Brigman headed up the trail.

      Charley waited, halfway between the bottom stream and the top ledge of the passage. He knew he needed to stay close to Jubilee no matter how much she wanted him to keep his distance.

      Glancing back, he saw her slowly picking her way down to where he waited. The sheriff reached him first and Charley was glad of the opportunity to ask a few questions with no one around.

      “Morning, Sheriff.”

      Brigman touched his hat in greeting. “Thanks for bringing Lauren down. Knowing her, she filled you in.”

      “She did, but she didn’t seem to know how the guy died. Natural causes, or something suspicious?”

      Brigman tapped the file against his leg. “Coroner said he was in his late sixties or early seventies, signs of a hard life, lots of old scars and tattoos, no dental care, probably heavy drug use at one time.” He looked straight at Charley. “But someone had to be with him. Someone wrapped him in the burlap sacks. Maybe they didn’t kill him, but the man did not die alone. So, why didn’t whoever was with him simply turn him over to the police? The only reason I can come up with is that whoever was there either killed him, or caused his death.”

      “Any hint as to cause of death?”

      “Blow to the head. Caved the side of his skull in.” Brigman paused as if thinking through the crime. “Strange thing is the coroner said it looked like someone beat him after he was dead. Bruises, cuts, even dents all over him. A little blood soaked into the burlap, but not as much as would have if the heart had still been pumping. Some of the cuts must have happened after he’d been wrapped and tied up like a mummy.”

      “That doesn’t make sense.” Charley knew the kick of a horse could easily break bones or crack a skull, but why would someone put a dead man in sacks and then beat on him? Or, why would anyone leave his body here in the canyon?

      Both men swung from their saddles as Charley asked, “Exactly where did you find the body?”

      The sheriff pointed to a small ledge twenty feet to the left of them. It was not more than six feet wide or deep. “He was laid out on his back like someone put him on display. I saw no trail of how he got there because of the hard rain that hit the other night. Mr. Norton, the man who found him, said he remembered seeing drops of blood around, but it was all washed away before I got here.”

      Brigman paced, thinking aloud. “The trail is too narrow for a four-wheeler, so whoever brought him here had to have carried him.”

      “Or brought him out here alive. Killed him. Then beat the body bloody and left before the rain even started.”

      “Possible,” the sheriff agreed. “Or he could have used a horse to transport the body. If so, he would have been on Hamilton land. He would have used the pass. Any other way in would have been too public for too long. Someone would have seen him.”

      Charley shook his head. “I’ve been working for Jubilee Hamilton for a week. I can’t see the entrance to the pass from the headquarters, but I was working outside. I would have heard anyone crossing the land pulling a trailer. On horseback he might have stayed in the trees that run along the windbreak almost to the pass entrance.”

      Brigman frowned. “The man hadn’t been dead more than a few hours. He was probably left in the canyon about twilight. Most of the hikers would have been gone by then. Norton grew up around here; he knew the trail so he’d let his kids stay late in the canyon.”

      “So no clues?” Charley tried to think why someone would kill an old man and leave his body out here by a trail hikers used. He must have wanted the body found. Maybe he wanted to make some kind of statement?

      Or whoever did this was planning to come back and bury the body when the rain stopped. There were spots where the ground was soft—easy to dig a grave. There were caves, too. This unfortunate fellow probably wasn’t the first body buried out here.

      Charley remembered that about ten years ago a science class looking at rocks had found a skeleton buried with handcuffs like they’d been on the man when he died.

      “One clue,” the sheriff said as he pulled a plastic bag from his vest pocket. “When we moved his body, this was underneath. One joint.”

      “Drugs?” Before Charley could say more, his boss’s horse brushed his shoulder.

      He turned and lifted his arms in an offer to help her down, but the last thing she’d said about not touching or helping her crossed his mind. Patting her mount, he lowered his hands, hoping the sheriff didn’t notice the coldness between him and Jubilee.

      Charley simply stood, holding the reins as she tried to swing out of the saddle with at least an ounce of grace.

      The horse shifted, widening his stance on the uneven ground. Jubilee’s body slammed against Charley as she lowered. The full impact of her moving against him shook him. He forced calmness far beyond what he thought possible as her soft parts moved against him, reminding him he may have sworn off women, but he wasn’t immune to them.

      As her boots crunched against the rocky ground, the horse moved away, and Charley felt the loss of her pressed against him like a sudden blow.

      Jubilee had the nerve to look at him as if their accidental brush had been a conspiracy. As though Charley and the horse had planned the whole encounter.

      He held open his palms as if to say he had nothing to do with it. At least this time, if she accused him of anything, he could use the sheriff as a witness.

      Only when Charley glanced at Brigman, the sheriff looked as though he felt sorry for him, rather than planning to come to his defense.

      Charley swore to himself again he’d have nothing to do with any woman. Even the crazy ones had the ability to mess with his mind.

      He told himself she could stay or go. He didn’t care. All that mattered was the job and he needed this one to last long enough to save a little more money.

       CHAPTER EIGHT