Delores Fossen - Mason

Mason lifted his shoulder. “I suppose she could have gotten pregnant, but she didn’t give birth. No time for that. From the time line we’ve been able to come up with, Ford killed her only about a month after the affair started.”

Well, there went her secret-baby theory.

“Boone got upset when he saw the news reports about the senator’s suicide,” she added. “And he followed the story like a hawk. I’d never seen him like that, and since then he’s been secretive. Agitated. He even hired a P.I., and he won’t tell me why.”

The brothers exchanged concerned glances. “What’s your theory?”

Abbie had to take a deep breath. “I suspect something bad happened to Boone all those years ago. Something bad enough to cause him to walk out on his family.”

“And what would that be?” Mason’s tone wasn’t quite as lawmanlike as it had been for his other questions. The emotion and old pain were seeping through.

“I’m not sure,” Abbie admitted. “But a week ago I heard him talking to someone on the phone. I don’t know who, but it could have been the P.I. I only caught pieces of the conversation, but Boone mentioned the ranch. And all of you.”

“Us?” Mason challenged.

She nodded. “I think he was worried about your safety.” Mercy, she wished she’d heard more of that call. “He also said something else.”

“What?” Mason pressed when she paused.

Abbie tried to repeat this part verbatim. “Boone said the past was catching up with him and that it wouldn’t be long before someone came to kill him.”

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