Chapter 31
The horses were put out to pasture as the police came to inspect the scene. Hardly able to look at the body, Marshall hadn’t gotten a great look at the stall and his mind reached for memories of details that might help him understand what happened.
“Do you think he died of a heart attack or something?” Colette asked, sliding a glass of whiskey across the kitchen island. They were in the kitchen of the main house, waiting for the police to finish their investigation and let him know what the hell happened.
He had so many questions.
“Maybe,” Marshall swallowed the amber liquid, enjoying the burn as it tumbled down his throat. “It all happened so fast.”
“Poor Edith,” Colette said with a frown as she swallowed her own mouthful of whiskey. “I’ll go see her when the police are done with us. Does she have any family that can come help her?”
His gaze was focused on the glass as he shook his head.
The Ellises didn’t have family close by.
For years, they’d been each other’s whole world.
A weight rested on his chest so heavy that he wasn’t sure how to breathe.
Life and death were part of life, especially on the farm, but he never expected it to happen to someone who seemed ageless and invincible like his mentor.
“Fuck!” Pain squeezed in his chest, and he swiped his blue plaid shirt sleeve across his eyes.
He had to keep the tears at bay, at least until he was done with the police.
How would everyone else on the ranch keep it together if he was losing his shit and weeping like a baby?
He pushed down the overwhelming sense of loss and collected himself with a deep, trembling breath. It wasn’t time to break down. Not yet.
Colette watched him, eyes wide and intense, as though she was trying to figure out how to help him.
Wordlessly, she walked around the kitchen island and wrapped her arms around him.
He stiffened at first, not wanting to lose control or crumble.
The sensation of her body against his, the sweet scent of her surrounding him, seemed to give him permission.
With a sniff, he buried his face in her neck and squeezed her as his life depended on it.
How had this woman he had known for barely a month become so important to him? Through no more than one night of pure heaven, her touch blazed a path to his heart, and when she tugged on the connection, he followed the pull. No resistance could keep him from baring his soul to hers.
“He was one of my best friends,” Marshall sobbed. “He saved me when I was in a dark place.”
As he soaked her shirt with his tears, she pulled him in tighter. “And I know he loved having you in his life. You were like the son he never had,” Colette spoke softly, her hand rubbing his back in slow strokes.
“If I had been working, he might have been saved,” he stuttered, choking on the words as they came out.
“Maybe he would have been on his sofa with his wife, safe. Instead, he died alone.” Marshall swallowed, trying his best to fight the wave of emotion overwhelming him.
It was too much. The pain was like nothing he had ever felt. Suffocating. Crushing.
“You can’t know that,” Colette said, cupping the back of his head as he breathed heavily in her arms. “It’s a tragedy.
No one is to blame.” The moment of comfort was shattered by a knock at the door.
Marshall turned his back to whoever was there, wiping his face once more with his sleeve as Colette went to open the door.
“Hi, Officer,” her quiet voice spoke behind him.
After a few deep breaths, Marshall was composed enough to turn around.
“Hey, Bobby.” Sympathy radiated from the police officer’s eyes.
Bobby Dean was a fixture around town, settling neighbor squabbles and issues ranging from wandering cattle and random sprees of theft that happened in waves in small towns.
His thumbs were looped in his belt as he strode to pat Marshall on the back.
“I’m sorry for your loss. Jack was a good man,” he began. “I have a few questions about the scene, if you don’t mind.”
Marshall nodded silently, his eyes flicking to Colette’s for support.
“Did you notice Jack behaving differently in the last few days, anything that might have indicated he was having difficulties?”
Though he searched his memories, Marshall could recall nothing of particular importance.
“Not really. He was happy, steady, old Jack. Always with a smile on his face, offering a hand to help. Last night, he was covering for me while I was out. He shouldn’t even have been there,” Marshall explained, his voice thick with emotion.
Bobby pulled out his notepad and jotted down a few notes. “Hm, so he didn’t typically work Saturdays?”
“Nope, I usually do final inspections and feed with a few of my crew. Some of my guys were out fixing fences, I think, and Evan was working with them. Jack was alone.”
“I’ll be heading out to question Jack’s wife next. Can you think of anything unusual or suspicious going on around the ranch last night?”
“I can’t think of anything… Wait…wasn’t it a heart attack or something? Why are you asking me these questions?” Marshall asked, his brows drawing together.
“I’ll be waiting for a report by the medical examiner, but we have reason to believe Jack was murdered.”
Marshall’s mouth dropped open. “Murdered? How could that happen? I can’t think of anyone who would want to hurt Jack. He and his wife are beloved members of the Rosebud community,” he explained, scrubbing a hand over his face. His thoughts were racing.
“Where were you last night?” Bobby asked.
His thoughts a jumble, Marshall looked to Colette. “I was with Colette. All night.”
With a raised brow, Bobby nodded slowly, jotting down notes as they described their evening together.
“I’ll make sure to speak with the guys who were working last night.
It’s still early and we’re in the information-gathering part of our investigation.
Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Jack? ”
Stroking his beard as he considered the horrible question, Marshall shook his head.
Everyone working on the ranch had been there for a while; no new employees besides Colette. They were all so close, it made no sense that anyone would want to hurt Jack. Nothing made sense anymore.
“We’re only going to know for sure once we get the autopsy results.
For now, stay away from the barn. We’re going to work the scene as quickly as possible so that you can get the horses back in there.
” Bobby’s gaze turned to Colette, who retreated into herself, arms hugging her torso.
“We’ll do a walk-through later to see if you notice anything out of place. I’m going to go speak with Evan now.”
Marshall nodded; his emotions numb. Watching Colette brought him back to reality.
She was rubbing her arms and shivering.
It didn’t surprise him; his chest was filled with pure ice. He was torn between wanting to throw up and wanting to punch the wall. Tucking his hands in his pockets to keep from an act of mindless violence, he walked the detective to the door.
“Let us know if there’s anything else we can do to help. I’m at a loss,” Marshall said, opening the door. Colette stood behind him as they watched Officer Dean walking toward the red barn, ribbons of yellow tape flapping in the breeze before him.
She pulled him away from the door, closing it and guiding him to the bar stool once again. Pouring a few fingers of whiskey in his glass, she leaned her elbows on the counter and watched him. Her eyes were searching, her lips pressing together as though she was debating saying something.
His eyes locked with hers.
“You didn’t tell Bobby about the weird stuff happening around the ranch lately.” She tilted her mouth to the side, her eyes questioning.
He cleared his throat after tipping the glass into his mouth for a long swig.
“I didn’t think of it,” he admitted. “Do you think it could be related? We’re still not sure he was murdered, don’t forget.”
“You’re right.” She huffed, rinsing her glass in the sink and placing it on the counter. Rounding the side of the kitchen island, she rubbed his back and watched him. Avoiding her gaze, Marshall watched the whiskey swirling in his glass, trying to keep his damn lip from starting to wobble again.
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” she asked, her tone laced with worry. “Maybe I should make you some dinner? It’s been hours since you last ate.” Her hands stroked his arms with comforting gentleness.
Clamping his mouth shut, he turned to hold her gaze. He cupped her cheek, reveling in its warmth. A shudder ripped through him as he recalled the feel of Jack’s skin beneath his fingers. So cold. So stiff.
Colette was warm and filled with life, glowing from the inside. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears as she watched him. Huffing a breath, he pulled her between his legs, wrapping himself around her.
He pressed his hand to her chest, seeking the reassuring thrum of her strong heartbeat. Tucking his head into the crook of her neck, he inhaled a slow breath.
“I don’t know if I’m good company tonight,” he murmured.
The press of her cheek against his made him ache for the simplicity of how life was a day before, that morning, even. They were on the cusp of something wonderful, then thrown into complete chaos.
“You don’t have to be anything for me,” she whispered, pulling him off her shoulder and holding his face in her cupped hands. “Let me take care of you.”
A little nod was the best he could muster before hiding his face and surrendering to the comfort of her arms. He had work to do.
Animals that needed to be cared for and watched for signs of stress.
Staff members who needed to be updated on the situation and comforted.
He didn’t have time to sit and cry. He barely had time to breathe or process the gravity of what had just happened.
Lifting his head, he pressed a soft kiss on Colette’s lips and walked to grab a coat from the closet.
He took her coat, which was draped on the sofa, and handed it to her.
“I’ve got to check on the animals and the staff and figure out what needs to be done. I’m sure everyone is worried, and we have horses and cattle depending on us. I would feel better if I got to work.”
Colette nodded, slipping her arms in her coat. “I’ll go to my place and wait for you?” she said, following on his heels as they headed toward the door.
Marshall walked in the direction of the guest house. With a quick step, Colette was behind him, reaching for his hand.
“I’m going to make sure everyone is okay. It’s hard to know how long it will take,” he said with a frown.
They reached her little house, and she turned, eyes studying him carefully.
“Come see me when you’re done, regardless of what time it is,” she said.
The step helped bring her face-to-face with Marshall, their height difference no longer as evident as when they stood on equal ground.
He curled his fingers in her hair and kissed her, attempting to draw strength from whatever magic she brought to his life at such a dark time.
He hardly felt worthy of the tingles, the warmth, and the trust she gave him.
He pulled away from the kiss, a chill seeping into his flesh.
What if his friend was murdered? What if it was related to all the strange occurrences happening on the ranch lately? Marshall curled his hands into a fist as he pulled them away from Colette, a fresh fear blooming in his gut.
“Lock your doors when you get in,” he said in a gruff voice, watching her confused face. Her brows knit in bewilderment.
She gave a soft chuckle. “I thought you never locked your doors around here.”
“Welcome to the future of Rosebud Ranch,” he said softly, and she shivered noticeably. “Where we lock our doors and take extra safety precautions. I want to be careful until we know what happened.”
Colette bobbed her head in agreement, her mouth tilting up on one side as she glanced at him before entering the house.
He hoped she would listen to him this time and lock her doors.
Lord knew she never closed the curtains like he asked her to.
The lights came on in the house and Marshall listened for the reassuring thunk of the lock in the door.
When he heard it, his shoulders dropped a smidge, and he headed to the stables with a determined stride.
He wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew what was going on.
Colette needed to be kept safe, as well as everyone on Rosebud Ranch.
A possible killer was walking among them.