Darkness Rising: A Contemporary Western Mystery Series by Chris Mullen

Author:Chris Mullen [Mullen, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Mystery & Detective, General, Thrillers, Crime, Westerns
ISBN: 9798895670460
Google: LV8H0QEACAAJ
Publisher: Wolfpack Publishing LLC
Published: 2025-01-06T11:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

“Pulled him from the river? DOA? That it?” Big Bill was irate. “You come out here with heavy news like that, and with a possible suspect for Christ’s sake?”

Suspect?

“Mr. Tankerton,” Chance said with patient professionalism. “The man we pulled from the Rio Grande just south of your property was positively identified by Special Agent Callahan. He had expired some time earlier. We are waiting for a report from the county medical examiner. Should have that before the end of the day. Lettin’ procedure roll out b’fore we make any assumptions.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Sheriff. This man…” Big Bill pointed a firm finger at my face. “Not only did I find him harassing my people. We caught him and another man trespassing last night.” He turned his attention to me. “Seems to me that my attorneys have more to look into, Sheriff, which is what you should be doing. This is your county after all. Consider all possibilities? The mere fact that Mr. Special Investigator, who by the way, never once identified himself as such, was snooping around last night, the same night you say we lost our man, and you don’t have him under suspicion? Horse shit work if you ask me.”

“He’s not asking, Bill,” I interjected, having heard all I could tolerate of his ridiculous accusations. “What he is saying is…”

“Callahan.” Chance’s voice overtook mine. “Head on back to the Bronco. I’ll finish up here.”

His words were simple yet searing, a command not a request.

“Chance.”

He turned to me and leaned close to my ear, whispering.

“Check yourself, Cass. Get in the damn car.”

Emotion is like alcohol. In moderation, it is enjoyable, but too much all at once and everything goes off-kilter. I felt like I had just run the gauntlet of spinning chair shots and keg stands at a frat party. Unease filled my stomach. Billowing anger swirled in my chest. The tumultuous gravity of Chance’s simple directive was as hard as stone, and I was the glass house.

“This is bullshit,” I said.

I glared at Big Bill. His face swelled with victory, radiating imperiousness. I looked at the men behind him. My rage cringed at their impudent smiles. One man mouthed something I interpreted as “See you soon,” which nearly catapulted me into full-on attack mode. Heat pulsed from my ears. I dug my fingernails into my palms, forcing myself to hold back.

As I turned for the Bronco, I caught a glimpse of movement in a window on the side of the house. I dismissed the image and stormed back to the Bronco. Before getting in, I was drawn back to the window when I saw the curtains pulled to one side and a face linger in view.

Son of a…

The woman. The wife! Even from the distance, I could see the same worry on her face that she showed yesterday, except now, her complexion looked splotchy. Had she been crying? I opened my mouth as if to speak, but in that instant, she violently disappeared from the window as if having been yanked away.

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