Kristin Hardy - Fortune's Woman / A Fortune Wedding

As he might have expected, Julie’s soft blue eyes widened with astonishment at the request. “But wouldn’t you rather have someone in your family stay with him? Your cousin Susan, maybe?”

Susan would come in a heartbeat, he knew, and like Julie, she specialized in troubled adolescents. But he hated to ask the Fortune side of the family for anything. It was an irrational reaction, he knew, but for most of his life his particular branch of the family had always been the needy ones.

He didn’t know how many times the Fortunes had bailed Cindy out of one scrape or another, before they had virtually cut ties with her out of frustration that nothing ever seemed to change.

Even though he loved and admired several members of his extended family, Ross preferred to handle things on his own when he could. And when he couldn’t, he much preferred asking somebody who wasn’t a Fortune for help.

“They’re all going to be busy with the last few hours of the Spring Fling. Plus, now they’re going to have to deal with damage control after Lloyd’s murder.”

It was bad public relations for the festival, especially since this was the second time a dead body had been found while the town celebrated. A few years earlier, an unidentified body turned up at the Spring Fling. The town had only just started to heal from that.

Her forehead furrowed for a moment and then she nodded. “In that case, of course. I’ll be glad to stay with Josh as long as you need.”

For one crazy moment, he longed to feel the soft comfort of her touch on his arm, though he knew that was ridiculous.

“Thanks a million. It won’t be long. I’m sure I’ll be taking Frannie home in just a few hours.

He had been far too optimistic, Ross thought an hour later as he stood in the Red Rock police chief’s office.

“Come on, Jimmy. This is a mistake. You have to know that. There’s no way on earth Frannie killed Lloyd.”

“You were on the job long enough, you know how it works. We just want to talk to her but she’s not saying a word. She’s shutting us down in every direction. I have to tell you, that makes her look mighty guilty.”

A white-coated lab tech pushed open the door. “Chief, I’ve got those results you put the rush order on.”

“Excellent. You’re going to have to excuse me, Ross. Why don’t you go on home? There’s nothing more you can do here tonight.”

“I’ll stick around. Somebody’s going to need to drive Frannie home when you’re done with this little farce here.”

Jimmy opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. “I can’t make you leave. But if you really want to help your sister, tell her to cooperate with us. The quicker she gives us her side of the story, the quicker we can wrap this up.”

Ross had been a cop for a long time, trained to catch subtle nuances in conversation. He didn’t miss the way the police chief phrased his words. Wrap this up was a far cry from send her home.

Something about this whole thing gave him an ominous feeling. He suddenly guessed he was in for a long night.

Four hours and counting.

From his perch in an empty detective’s chair, Ross looked at the clock above the chief’s glass-walled office in the Red Rock police station.

He couldn’t think the long delay boded well for Frannie. It was now nearly half past midnight and she had been in an interrogation room for hours.

His poor sister. Eighteen years of marriage to Lloyd Fredericks had just about wrung every drop of spirit out of her. She must be sick over this ordeal.

What could be taking so long? Frannie should have been released hours ago. With every tick of the clock, his hopes for a quick resolution trickled a little further away.

When the police chief emerged from the hallway that housed the interview room and headed for his office, Ross rose quickly and intercepted him.

“What’s going on, Jimmy? I need info here.”

His friend gave him a long, solemn look and Ross’s stomach suddenly clenched with nerves. He did not like the implications of that look.

“She’s going to be charged, Ross. We have no choice.”

He stared at the other man, not willing yet to accept the unthinkable. “Charged with what?”

The chief rolled his eyes. “With jaywalking. Lord, Ross, what the hell do you think, with what. With murder!”

This couldn’t be happening. Ross balled his fists. “That’s bull! This whole thing is bull and you know it! Frannie no more killed Lloyd than I did.”

“Are you confessing?”

“I’ve thought about killing the bastard a thousand times,” he answered the chief. “Does that count?”

“Sorry, but if we could prosecute thoughts, I doubt there would be anybody left outside the walls of my jail.”

“What evidence can you possibly have against Frannie that’s not circumstantial?” he asked.

The police chief just shook his head. “You know I can’t talk about that, Ross, especially not with the suspect’s own brother, even if he is an ex-cop and an old friend. Even if you weren’t Frannie’s brother, I couldn’t tell you anything.”

“Come on, throw me a little bone here. It’s only been four hours since Lloyd’s death. Why the big rush? You haven’t even had time to look at any other possibilities! What about Crystal Rivers? She claimed she just stumbled onto the body and found Frannie there, but she doesn’t exactly seem like the most upright, stalwart citizen of Red Rock. For all we know, she could have killed him, then waited around for somebody else to find him before circling back and throwing her big drama queen scene.”

Jimmy was quiet for a moment, then he motioned toward his office. They walked in, and he shut the door and closed the louvered blinds to conceal their conversation from any other curious eyes that might be watching in the station house.

“Look, I don’t know if this is my place, but you and I have been around the block together a few times, from our days at the academy together to our time in the same division in San Antonio. I respect you more than just about any detective on my force and you know I’d hire you here in an instant if you ever decided to come back to the job.”

“I appreciate that. Just be straight with me, Jimmy.”

“I’ll just remind you who calls the shots around here when it comes to prosecutions. Bruce Gibson. That’s not helping the situation for Frannie, especially when she’s refusing to say anything about what happened.”

Ross gazed at the other man as the implications sunk in. Bruce Gibson was the district attorney—and a particularly vindictive one at that. He was the one who chose when charges would be filed and what those charges would entail. Even if the police department wanted to pursue other leads, a district attorney could make the final choice about whether they had enough evidence to go forward with a prosecution.

And he had been one of Lloyd’s closest friends, Ross suddenly remembered, had practically grown up at the Frederickses’ mansion.

Gibson would be out for blood—and it would be a bonus to the man if he could extract a little of that blood from the Fortunes. Gibson had made no secret of the fact that he thought the Fortunes were too wealthy, too powerful. He was up for a tough re-election battle in the fall and from all appearances, he seemed to be making an issue of the fact that he considered himself a man of the people and wouldn’t let somebody’s social status sway prosecutorial decisions.

Added to that, there was no love lost between Ross and Bruce Gibson. Just a few weeks earlier, he and Ross had exchanged words over an incident involving a stable fire on the family ranch and the way the family was choosing to investigate it privately.