Rancher's Dream by B.J. Daniels

Author:B.J. Daniels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2018-05-28T15:22:13+00:00

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

FLINT STOOD ON the dock looking down into the dark water for a long moment before he headed for the house. Harper let him in and escorted him toward the kitchen and dining room level. The house was everything he’d heard it was. Was Ethan Baxter hiding somewhere inside it?

Or was the FBI wrong and Baxter was thousands of miles away from here, sitting in a bar drinking a rum and cola and laughing his ass off?

His skin crawling as he climbed each level of the house, Flint had a bad feeling that Baxter was much closer to home. Which meant Hawk was right. Drey was in trouble.

She was standing at the kitchen counter holding a steaming mug of coffee in her hands as if needing the warmth. She looked even paler than she had earlier.

“Mind if I have a cup of that?” Flint asked as he joined her. He watched her hands trembling as she poured him a mug full.

“There are sweet rolls,” she said, her voice breaking. “Jet?” she asked as if unable to hold back. “Is he dead?”

Flint glanced toward his deputy, who had just picked up what he knew must be at least his third sweet roll. “Harp, would you go help outside?”

The deputy looked from him to Drey and back again. He then considered the sweet roll in his hand. He’d taken only one large bite out of it.

“You can take that with you.”

Harp nodded quickly and left. Flint waited until he heard the deputy exit the house before he turned to Drey. “We didn’t find a body.”

All the color drained from her face, making her look as if she might faint. “What?”

“I need you to tell me again what you saw.”

She was shaking her head, her brown eyes wide and filled with terror. “His body had to be there. He was shot. He was holding his stomach. The blood. I saw him get shot again. He fell into the water. He wasn’t moving. He...” She looked up, tears welling.

“Drey?” She was visibly trembling. “I think you’d better sit down.”

She didn’t argue as he helped her to a chair at the huge table. She hugged her coffee mug to her.

“Is it possible he wasn’t so badly wounded that he could have gotten out of the water?” he asked as he took a chair facing her.

She shook her head. “No.” But then she seemed to change her mind. “I don’t know. I suppose...” She met his gaze. “Flint, I saw him get shot. I’d heard two shots before that. He was bleeding, holding his stomach...”

“Drey, there was no blood on the dock. If he’d been bleeding... If he’d been shot what you believe to be a third time, there should have been blood. Lots of blood on the dock.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “What are you saying?”

“There is no sign of a murder on the dock or anywhere around it. Jet Baxter has a red sports car registered to him. Is that what he was driving the last time you saw him?”

She nodded.

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