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that case, come along. You might just stumble onto the definitive clue.”

      Doubtful, and Zach had planned on driving into Houston this afternoon to attend a special showing of a new lady friend’s work at one of the local galleries— a very beautiful and available lady friend. So why had he just volunteered to go to the Silver Spurs to visit a woman who had thrown him out yesterday?

      He let the question ride, mainly because he had no idea how to answer it.

      KALI’S MUSCLES tightened and she jerked to attention at the sound of the approaching vehicle. Sheriff Ed Guerra had alerted her that a Houston homicide detective named Aidan Jefferies who was assisting with the case would be paying her a visit. She assumed this was him, but ran for the shotgun anyway.

      She was taking no chances. Not that she’d ever fired a shotgun before or even knew for certain this one was loaded correctly. She’d bought it at a pawn shop in Atlanta because one of her friends had convinced her she couldn’t live on a ranch without a gun.

      Who’d have guessed she would need it so quickly or for such a frightening purpose?

      A groan slipped from her lips when she glanced through the open window and saw Zach Collingsworth step from the passenger side of the black sedan. He looked great, of course. But then he hadn’t been mopping floors or scrubbing layers of caked dirt from baseboards and window facings.

      The rubber gloves came off with a quick jerk. Her hair did not cooperate so well. She didn’t recognize the man with Zach. He could be one of Zach’s brothers. Might even be the Houston detective Sheriff Guerra had mentioned, though she didn’t know why a Houston detective on official duty would be traveling with Zach.

      She leaned the shotgun against the front door and stepped onto the porch empty-handed to greet them like a sane person instead of the nervous Nellie she’d become.

      “Detective Aidan Jefferies,” the man said, speaking first. “I’m with the Houston Police Department. Sheriff Ed Guerra was supposed to call you and tell you I’d be stopping by.”

      “He did.”

      “I hate to bother you on a Sunday, but I wanted to take a look around the crime scene as soon as possible. They tend to deteriorate fast.”

      “I’m afraid this one already has. The sheriff said I was free to clean up the blood and fingerprint powder. But he took multiple pictures before the body was taken to the morgue.”

      “I saw them, and he was very thorough. I’m probably wasting your time, but I’d still like to ask a few questions and look around.”

      “Fine by me. Whatever it takes to apprehend the killer.”

      Zach stamped the mud from his boots, tipped his black Stetson and smiled. Her heart betrayed her, quickening her pulse and skipping a couple of beats.

      “We missed you at dinner last night,” he said, stepping closer. “Mom said to extend a rain check, valid any night.”

      “Thanks. I’ll use it soon.” She opened the door and the two men followed her inside. “It’s a bit chilly in here,” she apologized, “but I had to raise a couple of windows to let the strong odors of the cleaning solutions escape.”

      “No problem,” Aidan said, shedding his coat, his gaze already focused on the spot inside the door where she’d found the body.

      She stepped back as the gory image reclaimed her mind.

      Aidan examined the lock on the front door. “It doesn’t look as if it were jimmied.”

      “No. The attorney gave me keys, but the door was unlocked when I arrived. I don’t think my grandfather ever locked it when he was alive. I know he didn’t the summer I visited.”

      “That’s not unusual out here,” Zach said.

      Aidan nodded. “I hope you’re keeping it locked now.”

      “I am, but Sheriff Guerra said the killer would have no reason to return.”

      “I suspect he’s right,” Aidan said, “but keeping your doors locked is a good idea in general.”

      Aidan stepped away from the door. “Can you describe exactly what you heard and saw when you arrived at the Silver Spurs Ranch Friday night?”

      “I gave a full statement to Sheriff Guerra. Didn’t he show it to you?”

      “I read it, but I always like to hear the story from the witness. You may remember something more now that the horror isn’t so fresh in your mind.”

      “I doubt that,” she said. “There’s nothing to remember. I just walked in, saw the body and let out a scream that probably frightened wildlife for miles.”

      “A natural reaction,” Aidan said. He pulled a pen and small black notebook from his pocket. “Shall we sit?”

      “Certainly. Would you like something to drink? I have sodas, and I can make coffee.”

      “Perhaps later,” Aidan said.

      She felt the intensity of his stare biting into her. She shifted nervously and dropped to the sofa. Zach sat down beside her, a little too close. The air in the room thickened like clotted cream.

      “Just say any and everything that pops into your mind,” the detective said, “even if you think it’s unimportant. And start at the beginning.”

      “I saw the rivulets of blood spilling out the door. At first I thought it was paint. Then I opened the door and there was the body.” She hesitated as the frightening memories seemed to swell in her mind and press against her temples.

      “Before that,” Aidan said. “Go back to the point where you first pulled into the gate at the Silver Spurs. Did you see or hear anything that struck you as unusual.”

      “No…except that when I got out of my Jeep to open the gate, I kind of freaked out for no apparent reason. I attributed it to the isolation. I still think that’s what it was, since there was no one around.”

      “Was it raining at that point?”

      “No, but the storm was rolling in and the lightning and thunder had become almost constant. Once I closed the gate and got back in the car, all I thought about was trying to make it to the house before the monsoons started.”

      “So there was no sign of any other vehicle once you entered the gate?”

      “No. I know the sheriff thinks the victim hadn’t been dead long, but the killer must have been off the property before I arrived.”

      “Not necessarily,” Zach said. “The main gate is not the only entry.”

      “It’s the only one I know about,” Kali said.

      “And the only one the sheriff mentioned,” Aidan said.

      Zach leaned forward. “There’s an old logging road that leads to a back gate off Mullins Road. There’s no sign on that gate, and the road’s not used very often, but it’s there. I was on it a couple of years ago when I helped Kali’s grandfather haul a load of hay over to Billy Mack’s. He was short of hands that summer.”

      “Interesting,” Aidan said as he scribbled notes in the notebook.

      “If the killer knew about the back road, he’d have to have some connection with the ranch,” Kali said.

      “It’s a possibility,” Aidan agreed, but failed to elaborate on the point. “Were there any lights on inside the house when you drove up?”

      “No. The house was pitch-dark except when—” Her breath caught at the frightening flashback.

      “Go ahead,” Aidan said.

      “It was dark except when the lightning lit up the sky. When I drove up, I thought I saw someone run from the house and into the trees.”

      Zach

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