In Honor's Defense by Karen Witemeyer

Author:Karen Witemeyer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Historical Romance;FIC042110;FIC042030;FIC027050
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2022-04-14T00:00:00+00:00

Luke listened to Damaris recount the details of her investigation while sipping his after-dinner coffee, impressed by her instincts and intelligence. He’d known she was educated, but he’d thought her bookish and naïve. Not the sort to question an undertaker about injuries on a body or a sheriff about missing boats. But there was nothing naïve about her logic nor her ability to ferret out information from a variety of sources. She could work for the Pinkertons if she wasn’t so dedicated to raising her nephew.

“Just because my pa didn’t have any dents or cracks in his head don’t mean there weren’t someone else there,” Nate insisted after Damaris related the undertaker’s response to her fight theory. He banged the flat of his hand against the tabletop and raised a few inches off his seat. “Someone coulda pushed him out of the boat, then held his head underwater when he tried to get back in.”

Damaris fiddled with her teacup, twisting it back and forth within the divot of her saucer, her expression more thoughtful than provoked by her nephew’s outburst. “I hadn’t considered that scenario. That’s a solid possibility. It wouldn’t explain the straw, though.”

Luke sat forward. “Straw? What straw?”

She blinked twice, as if she’d forgotten he was in the room. Not terribly flattering to his ego, but she did tend to lose awareness of her surroundings when she was in the middle of a good ponder. It had happened earlier today too, by the wagon. He’d wanted to see if he could draw some of those ponderings out after Nate traipsed into the house, but she hadn’t given him the chance. She’d followed on Nate’s heels, pausing only long enough to thank him for seeing to the horses.

“The undertaker mentioned finding a piece of straw in Douglas’s mouth,” Damaris said, her eyes once again clear and bright. “It struck me as odd.” She turned back to Nate. “I don’t recall Douglas being one who liked to chew on straw. Was that a habit he picked up in Texas?”

Nate shook his head. “Nope. I never saw him chew on nothin’ besides food. What do ya think it means?”

Damaris sighed and leaned back in her chair. “I have no idea. I suppose it must mean there was straw around when he died. Maybe it was floating in the lake? Or lying in the bottom of his boat?”

Luke tapped the side of his thumb against the rim of his coffee mug. “Or on the killer.”

Damaris and Nate both turned to look at him.

“Things get messy in a struggle,” he said with a shrug. “Blood, dirt, sweat. After a fight, you got as much of the other fella’s mess on you as you do your own.”

“So you admit my pa was murdered?” Nate’s tone was weighed down with defensiveness, but his eyes pleaded for affirmation.

“I admit there’s a whole lot that don’t add up about the way your pa died. From what you and your aunt have told me, he doesn’t sound like the kind of man to shirk work for a fishin’ trip.

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