Chapter Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Seven
Warm air and searing guitar chords hit her as she yanked open the door to the Javelina. Leanne scanned the faces and then cut through the crowd of sweaty bodies. Squeezing between a pair of broad-shouldered cowboys, she leaned across the bar.
“Katie!”
The bartender looked up from the taps.
“Where’s Duncan? I saw his truck out front.”
Katie jerked her head toward the dart board.
Duncan stood in the shadows near a group of off-duty deputies. Everyone was talking and laughing. Except for him. He was several feet apart from the group, staring down at his phone.
Leanne walked over. “Hey.”
He glanced up. “Hey, I was about to call you. What’s this about your parents’ ranch?” He held up his phone. “There’s a fire?”
“Was,” she said. “It’s out now. And it’s not my parents’—it’s my stepdad’s.”
“What the hell happened?”
A cheer went up from the dart board. Duncan took her elbow and steered her away from the crowd to an empty high-top table littered with beer bottles.
“I don’t know, but I plan to find out,” she said. “I need you to talk to Moriarty for me.”
He blinked down at her. “Who?”
“Sean Moriarty. He’s in the back there, playing pool.” She nodded at the room behind him.
“Why would you want—”
“He’s been harassing my family, and I want you to find out where he was earlier tonight.”
“What, like, question him?”
“Yes. I want to know if he has an alibi.”
Duncan darted his gaze toward the pool room. “I can tell you right now, he does. He’s been in there for the last hour, at least.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I got here an hour ago, and he was already there in the middle of a game.”
“Fine, I’ll do it.” She stepped around him, and he caught her arm.
“Wait, Leanne. Don’t you think this is a job for the fire investigators?”
“I think it’s a job for anyone with a badge.” She shook off his hand. “And I think the best time to question a suspect is when something happens. If you won’t do it, I will.”
She went around him and into the back room.
Liam stood in the corner, pool cue in hand, talking to a pair of women in short dresses and cowgirl boots.
Sean was at the pool table, plunking balls into a wooden triangle.
The spotlight above the table gleamed off his shaved head, and he wore the same stiff new jeans as the other night but with a black hoodie.
Sean’s eyes went from Leanne to Duncan and back to Leanne again. He gave the triangle a firm jolt and then lifted it off the table.
“What?” he asked her.
“Didn’t I tell you to stay away from my family?”
He gave her a long, cool look before setting the triangle on an empty barstool.
She stepped closer, grabbing the cue ball off the table. Annoyance flared in his eyes.
“Leanne.”
Ignoring Duncan, she walked right up to Sean with the ball clutched in her fist.
“Didn’t I?”
Sean stared down at her, his gray eyes flat.
“I’ll say it again.” She leaned closer. “The Sullivan Ranch is private property. Same for the Triple R. Same for my goddamn house.”
He didn’t react.
“Where were you earlier tonight?” she asked.
The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. But he didn’t answer.
She glanced at his brother. Liam was watching her now, along with the two young women.
She looked at Sean. “All of those properties have security cameras. Just so you know that.”
“Good for them.”
She watched his eyes, trying to read them. Then she backed away.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Anything else?”
“No. That’s it.” She tossed the cue ball, and he caught it in his right hand. “Have a nice game.”
Leanne turned and walked out. She felt Duncan behind her as she crossed the bar and pushed through the heavy door into the cold air.
She looked up at the sky, her chest burning with frustration. Tears stung her eyes.
Duncan walked up beside her. “What the fuck, Leanne?”
She blew out a sigh, and her breath turned to frost. She zipped her fleece jacket.
“Hey.”
She turned. “What?”
“What was that? What the hell are you doing?”
“Investigating.”
“Leave it to the fire department. Jesus.” He raked his hand through his hair. “Are you trying to piss off a convicted murderer?”
“You don’t get it.”
“Don’t get what?”
She shook her head and looked away. Duncan didn’t understand.
No one did. Not one single person understood what she was up against. She’d been tapped to lead a homicide case, but her department was giving her almost no help solving it.
It was like they didn’t even care. Forget helping her solve the multiple cold cases that were connected to this new one.
And now she had to deal with the potentially explosive link between all these cases and Sean Moriarty’s overturned conviction.
The chief wouldn’t even acknowledge a possible link, much less investigate anything.
Which meant she was on her own. Again.
“Leanne?”
She shook her head and strode toward the parking lot.
“Hey, nice seeing you,” he called after her. “Glad we could talk.”
She waved over her shoulder as she walked away.