Joanna Wayne - AK-Cowboy

“So what got you interested in the Frost murder case, being as it’s icy cold.”

“It remains unsolved.”

“So do lots of more prominent murder cases.”

“Actually, you’re partly to blame,” she admitted. “You made news when you were released on a technicality and again when one of your fellow inmates escaped and went after the former prison psychiatrist you were protecting.”

“Eve. She’s my daughter-in-law now.”

“I know. She married your son Sean.”

“You have done your homework. I still think you’re going to have your work cut out for you. That’s over in Llano county, and Sheriff Caleb Grayson is very protective when it comes to anything that falls under his jurisdiction.”

“He’s a public servant. And Muriel Frost deserves the same justice everyone else is entitled to.”

“And you’re out to get it for them? That’s a pretty big order.”

“I can’t get it for everyone, obviously, but I can start with Muriel Frost.”

“Sounds admirable, but if you’re here because you think I had anything to do with killing my wife or Muriel Frost, you’re wasting your time and mine.”

The guy was no easy sale, Tyler concluded. Definitely not a pushover for a cute face and hot body. Or maybe he was. She’d admitted to being a reporter and his dad hadn’t ushered Julie to the door.

Julie crossed her mud-splattered legs. “Like I said, I’d just like to collaborate a bit. But in all fairness, if I find out you did kill either one of them, I’ll come after you with everything I’ve got.”

Troy rubbed his chin and stared into space. About the time Tyler figured the interview was over, Troy began to nod.

“Fair enough,” Troy said. “Tyler and I will get your car out of the ditch. Then we’ll set a time to meet and share notes. Are you staying here in Mustang Run?”

“If there’s a cheap motel.”

“Not one I’d recommend,” Troy said. “You can stay here a couple nights if you want. There’s plenty of room. Nothing fancy.”

Julie glanced at Tyler as if expecting him to protest.

“The more the merrier,” he said, not completely sure it would work out that way. But at least with Julie around, he wouldn’t be forced into nothing but awkward moments between him and a father who’d become a total stranger.

“I’ll get your luggage and confidential material out of my trunk,” Tyler offered.

Julie followed him to the car. When they reached it, she grabbed the heaviest piece of luggage as if asserting her independence. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were one of Troy Ledger’s sons?”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Will my staying here bother you?”

“All depends on what you mean by bother.”

“Then just tough it out,” she stammered, getting his point and turning away as one of those disarming blushes turned her cheeks an enticing red.

She bothered him plenty already, and for more reasons than the obvious. For one, she didn’t look or seem like a hardened investigative reporter. Nor did he think she was totally convinced Troy was innocent.

But then, neither was Tyler.

JULIE ACCEPTED TROY’S invitation to stay at the house and unpack while they went for her car. Which meant the inevitable one-on-one father-son encounter could be put off no longer. The awkwardness was not only tangible when Tyler crawled into the front seat of Troy’s new double cab white, pickup truck, it was as solid and impenetrable as a cement wall.

The silence hovered until they’d rumbled over the cattle gap and left the ranch.

“We need to let Sean and Dylan know you’re here,” Troy said. “They’ll want to get together right away.”

“I’ll give them a call once we get Julie’s car out of the ditch,” Tyler promised.

“Good idea.”

They passed a truck pulling a horse trailer. Troy gave a two-fingered wave without lifting his hand from the steering wheel. “That’s Everett Wilson. He’s one of the unrelenting and unforgiving, crosses the street to keep from speaking to me if our paths are about to intersect in town.”

“Yet you waved at him,” Tyler noted.

“Only because I know it irritates him.”

The perfect opening for the question that preyed on Tyler’s mind. “Why did you return to Mustang Run when you were released from prison?”

“It’s home. And it seemed the best place for doing what I have to do.”

“To prove you’re tougher than your critics?”

When Troy didn’t respond to the question, Tyler turned and studied his profile. The muscles in Troy’s neck were strained, his gaze straight ahead as if he were staring down a tank—or a ghost.

“I came back to find your mother’s killer.”

The tone was so defiant that the words were guttural. They ground inside Tyler like grit. Did his father really think that uttering those few words would make a difference?

“I didn’t kill your mother, Tyler. Whether or not you believe me is up to you. I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life, but I won’t cower in guilt for something I didn’t do.”

After a few minutes of silence, Troy visibly relaxed his grip on the wheel and glanced toward Tyler. “I didn’t mean to come at you like that. You have a right to answers.”

Tyler nodded. “I obviously hit a sore spot, but I didn’t come back to start a fight.” At least he didn’t think he had.

“What made you decide to visit? Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled you’re here. It’s that you don’t seem that excited about it.”

“Dylan and Sean sounded so optimistic that I guess I had to see where I fit in this new family scheme of things.”

“Where you’ve always fit. You’re my son,” Troy said. “You’re Helene’s son. You’re a Ledger.”

Right, whether he liked it or not.

“I tried to get in touch with all you boys when I was in prison,” Troy said. “Your grandparents got a court order forbidding it.”

“I know. Dylan told me.” And that had been fine with Tyler.

“Can we just drop this for now?” Tyler said, sorry he’d ever brought it up.

“Sometimes it’s better to get everything out in the open,” Troy said. “Clears the air. Makes it easier to move on.”

“Maybe,” Tyler muttered. But he wasn’t sure he’d ever be ready to move on if that meant just swallowing whatever his dad piled on the plate.

Talk ceased until the ditched car came into view. Troy slowed and swerved into a U-turn after they’d topped the hill and reached a straight stretch of road. He parked on the shoulder and turned on his emergency lights.

Tyler stepped out of the truck and walked straight to Julie’s car. His father stopped to study the tire tracks.

“Lucky she slowed before she veered into the ditch. If she’d slammed into that fence post at the same speed she’d left the highway she could have been seriously injured.”

“The mud slowed her down,” Tyler said, pointing at the grooves her tires had dug into the wet earth.

“Yeah, we had a gully washer about midnight last night. Rain didn’t last long, but the thunder rumbled for hours. And then we had a couple of quick showers today.”

“Julie hit the post hard enough to knock it over. I righted it, but it probably needs to be reset,” Tyler said, remembering the sight that had captured his attention.

Gorgeous, albeit muddy legs. Slim hips. Perky breasts. Dancing ponytail. Whip-cracking action. A surprise tightening in his groin shocked him back to the situation at hand.

“This is Bob Adkins’ spread,” Troy said. “I’ll let him know so that he can check it out. He’ll be surprised to hear you’re in town. Probably stop by first chance he gets.”

“Should I know Bob Adkins?”