to catch the eye of Lucas Taylor, one of the cowboys who worked for Cassie. They were now happily married and Cassie was miserably alone.
It wasn’t that Cassie wasn’t happy for her friend. She was thrilled that Nicolette had found true love and happiness. Cassie just wished she knew where she belonged in the grand scheme of life.
Was it here on this ranch in this small town, or did her destiny lay in New York City where she could pursue her dreams of being a famous artist?
She’d love to pick up the phone and call Nicolette, but she knew her friend would be busy with her family. Cassie wished she had the kind of relationship with her mother where she could pick up the phone and get her guidance. Her parents had pretty well written her off when she’d dropped out of college and refused to go to law school and join the family legal firm.
She cast her gaze out the window, unsurprised to see Adam walking toward the house as the sun rose above the horizon. He’d be startled to find her up and dressed and with the coffee already made.
It was their habit that he let himself inside in the mornings, made the coffee and then waited for her to join him for the daily ranch update. Apparently, even a brutal murder didn’t change the routine on a ranch.
Morning greetings were exchanged and then Adam joined her at the table with a cup of coffee. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“Okay, I guess,” she replied. “Although I’m still horrified and saddened by Sam’s death.”
“We all are. Dillon said he’d be back here around eight this morning to talk to some more of the men. He’s wasting his time. He won’t find his answers here.”
“I told him as much yesterday.” She got up from the table to get a fresh cup of coffee, fighting against the memory of being held far too briefly in the lawman’s arms.
“I still think he’d better be looking hard at Butch Cooper,” Adam said when she was seated once again. “Amanda was flirting pretty hardcore with Sam at the party and Butch might be an easygoing guy, but he didn’t look all that happy.”
“I’m sure Dillon is going to explore all the possibilities.”
“Yeah, I just wish he’d stop focusing so much attention on us.” Adam took a sip from his cup and then guided his attention out the window. “Anything that happens around here, he’s always quick to interrogate all of us.”
“He’s just doing his job, Adam.”
He focused his gaze back on her and smiled. “I know. It’s just frustrating. He’s had his eye on us since those skeletons were discovered. Whatever happened to those teenagers happened before we all got here. All the men who grew up here on the ranch are good, solid people. You should know that by now.”
She returned his smile. “Believe me, I do.”
For the next twenty minutes he filled her in on the ranch business. Over the past six months Cassie had learned more about cattle than she’d ever wanted to know, but this was her life at the moment.
As Adam droned on about plans for the upcoming winter months, Cassie’s mind remained on the murder and what it meant for her future.
There was no way she could sell the property and leave for New York right now. Legally she was as much a suspect as anyone else that had attended the party, although surely nobody would really believe she’d had anything to do with Sam’s murder.
“Cassie?”
Adam’s voice pulled her out of her own head. “Sorry, what did you say?” she replied.
“I know you have a lot on your mind, so I’ll just get out of your hair and get to work.” He stood, drained his coffee cup and then carried it over to the sink. “I’ll check in with you later in the day after Dillon has conducted the rest of his interviews.”
“Thanks, Adam.” She didn’t bother getting up. Once Adam was gone she remained at the table until Dillon’s car appeared in the drive by the back door.
As he stepped out of the car, the hint of heat she always felt when around him whispered through her. He approached the house and knocked on the back door.
“It’s open,” she yelled. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she said when he stepped into the kitchen.
“Then stop having murder victims on your property,” he replied.
“Trust me, I’d love to stop.” She motioned to the coffeepot. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks, but I’m good. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be around here most of the day.”
“Did you find out anything yesterday that might help you solve this?”
His eyes were steel-gray and troubled. “Cassie, we aren’t going to solve this in a day. We have a barn full of people to interview and little physical evidence.”
“I know.” She blew out a sigh. “People were already talking about this land being damned because of the seven skeletons that were found here.”
“Your land isn’t damned and you know I’ve been working as hard as I can to solve the mystery of those skeletons. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to solve a fifteen-year-old crime where I only have one potentially important clue.”
Cassie straightened in her chair. “An important clue? Tell me, Dillon, what is it?” Was it really possible that he could solve the crime? Could he finally give peace to the seven young men who had been murdered?
Dillon frowned and shifted from one foot to the other, obviously contemplating whether to tell her or not. “You can’t share this with anyone,” he finally said.
“I promise,” she replied.
“It’s a man’s ring. When we were excavating the graves, in the bottom of one was a gold ring with an onyx stone. I believe it slipped off the killer’s finger when he was burying one of the bodies.”
“Was there any DNA on it?”
“Whatever was there was so contaminated nothing was usable.” He took a step toward the back door. “I’ve got to get to work. I’ll talk to you later this afternoon.” With that he turned and left the house.
Through the window Cassie watched him walk toward the barn. She couldn’t help but notice how good his butt looked in his uniform pants. He was definitely hot.
She’d never heard any gossip about who he dated, and this was a small town that loved their gossip. All she really knew about Dillon Bowie was that he was well respected by everyone in Bitterroot and lived on a small farmstead on the other side of town. And she had the hots for him.
Restless energy surged up inside her. She got up from the table and put the coffee cups in the dishwasher. The ring of the doorbell whirled her around.
Who on earth could that be? She didn’t think anyone had ever come to the front door since she’d moved in. Everyone used the back door when they visited.
She hurried through the great room and into the smaller, more formal living room, where she could see through a side window that Raymond Humes stood on the porch.
She stifled a groan. That man was the last person on earth she wanted to see this morning. She opened the door and greeted him through the screen. “Good morning, Mr. Humes. What can I do for you?”
The silver-haired thin man smiled, the gesture doing nothing to warm the cold of his close-set dark eyes. “It isn’t what you can do for me. It’s about what I can do for you. May I come in?”
Cassie hesitated. She knew why he was here. The seventysomething-year-old man was like a vulture sensing death and waiting to capitalize on any weakness. She finally opened the screen door to allow him inside.
She refused to lead him into the heart of the house and instead gestured to the small floral sofa just inside the front door.