Linda Conrad - Last Chance Reunion

The next thing he knew rounds from illegal weapons started echoing off buildings everywhere and the stench of gunpowder irritated his nostrils. A smoky haze settled over the entire scene, making it tough to see who was who. Several bullets found their marks then and took him to his knees.

Damn. He’d screwed up. Lost his chance.

His last thought, before everything went black, was now he might never find out what had happened to his baby sister.

* * *

Colt woke up from the nightmare soaked in sweat and breathing hard. The same way he came awake every time he’d suffered through that damned old dream.

“You okay, little brother?” Sam, his eldest brother, leaned over him, a look of deep concern spreading across his face.

God, how he hated this. Hated being thought of as an invalid. Hated being forced to come back to his hometown—to the Bar-C Ranch.

The early-morning sun beat down against the wooden porch where he sat, giving everything a false golden hue.

“Just great.” Colt couldn’t avoid a grimace as he slowly straightened up in the rocker and then came to his unsteady feet beside his eldest brother.

“That same nightmare again?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. Only it wasn’t a nightmare. He’d lived through every second of that whole nasty scenario six long months ago.

“You sleep in that chair all night?” Sam studied him with serious intent. “Something the matter with the perfectly good king-size bed inside this old mobile home? Travis and I worked our butts off stuffing the danged thing into the place and setting it up alongside Mama’s old office furniture.”

“I haven’t been sitting in the chair for long,” he answered reluctantly. “And there’s nothing wrong with the bed. I woke up early, came out for air and fell asleep again waiting for sunrise.” Only a slight exaggeration. He’d been out here on the porch since 3:00 a.m.

Sam gingerly sat on the porch’s top step and gazed at the sunrise. “We’re worried about you. Living out here on the range in this temporary mobile Mama used to use as an office is crazy. And you’re not entirely healed yet—only one month out of the rehab hospital. It’s not right.”

“Grace sent you.” It wasn’t a question. Colt knew who worried the most in his brother’s family.

Sam huffed under his breath. “I’m every bit as worried as my wife is. Maybe more. I know how it feels to be suspended from your job.

“What the hell are you doing, Colt? Why not work harder at getting well so you can go back and fight for your job?”

“I’m not sure I want my job back.” Well, damn. That was the first time he’d admitted such a thing out loud.

He knew their conversation was far from over, so he folded up his tall frame and sat next to Sam. Figuring his admission would trigger an interrogation, he rested his elbows on his knees and waited.

It didn’t take his eldest brother long. “No? Then what do you want?”

May as well say it. “Answers. I want to know what happened to Cami. And I intend to find out who really killed Mama.” There was one more thing he’d like answers about, too. But Colt wasn’t quite ready to admit that one yet.

“Well, yeah.” Sam turned his head, staring at him with another thousand questions in his eyes. “The rest of us want those kinds of answers, too. Gage perpetually searches the internet for any word on Cami. And I’ve combed that barrio where you think you spotted her every time Grace and I take the kids out to Southern California to visit her grandmother. We all want the same things, so what’s different now?”

“Now is different because I intend to prove that our father did not kill our mother. Once and for all, I want to clear his name.”

Sam’s lips tipped up at the edges like he was about to smile, but he stayed sober and thoughtful enough to say, “Man, that’s a real cold case. Almost twenty years ago. Going to be tough tracking down any new evidence.”

Thank goodness Sam refrained from mentioning the fact that Colt was not the most skillfully trained investigator in the family. But if desire and heart counted for anything, Colt would get the job done where others may have failed.

“You don’t believe Daddy did it, do you?”

Sam rubbed at his chin for a moment. “Naw. I don’t guess any of us thinks that. But do you have any other suspects in mind?”

Colt knew what his brother was asking. Nearly twenty years ago the Chance County sheriff had rushed through their mother’s murder investigation, convicted their father and sent him off to die in prison. And every one of the Chance boys had wondered about his true motives then—and now.

“Austin McCord still sheriff in this county?” he asked by way of answering Sam’s question.

“Yeah, he is. Just older. And even pricklier, if that’s possible. Gonna be tough getting any information from him.”

“Don’t think I’ll be asking him for info anytime soon.” Colt intended to begin in a much more indirect way rather than by head-on assault. “There’re plenty of people from back in those days still living in Chance that I can interview, aren’t there?”

“Some. But you’ll still need to see the old files, if any of them still exist. It’ll be important to take a look at the forensics done at the time and to read the sheriff’s interviews. Time dims memories. Eventually you’ll have to go through the sheriff to look at whatever he kept.”

The idea actually brought a smile to Colt’s lips. “Eventually. Maybe. In the meantime, I have a few ideas on how to get information that don’t include asking.”

Sam got to his feet and drilled him with a steely stare. “None of Chance County’s files from that long ago were ever put on computer. So I’m guessing I don’t want to know what else you have in mind, do I?”

“Probably not, big brother.” Colt stood, too, and even managed a half smile. “So, tell Grace I’m just fine. I’m healing nicely and plenty happy about not having anyone around to bug me.”

“I’ll tell her. But look, we’re actually flying to California with the kids tomorrow and staying with Grace’s grandmother for a couple of weeks. Why don’t you move to our house while we’re gone?”

Sam and Grace and their two little ones were living in the old Chance homestead, where the family had been raised. And where their mother had died. They’d remodeled the old place some, but as far as Colt was concerned the ghosts remained.

“I don’t think...”

“Tell you what, I’ll leave you my key and the security code. You’ll be a heck of a lot more comfortable at the house than you are here. And the hands will be available to cook and clean. No one will bother you. I promise.”

When Colt remained unconvinced and let it show, Sam added, “I haven’t had time to go through all of Mama and Daddy’s papers since we moved in. Daddy’s old combination library and office is still just like he left it. Maybe you can find something to help in your investigation there.”

Sam screwed up his mouth and then went on, “And everything you find in our house will be obtained legally.”

Colt held in the grin and nodded. “Maybe.”

But meanwhile he intended to work his own version of an investigation. Doing it legally was the least of his worries.

* * *

Deputy Lacie McCord stretched and yawned as she left the Chance County sheriff’s station for the night, heading out across the nearly empty parking lot toward her car. She’d just pulled a double shift, thanks to the Yardley boy who’d started a fire in his neighbor’s barn. And she was filthy and exhausted.

She didn’t really mind doing the extra duty. The sheriff’s staff and volunteer fire department both being short-handed was the reason she’d managed to snag this position in the first place. Her stepfather, the sheriff, would never have hired her had he not been desperate. The two of them hadn’t spoken since the day she’d fled town right after high school. Not until she’d applied for the job.