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Movement in the rearview mirror caught his attention and the muscles in the pit of his stomach knotted. A sheriff’s cruiser bounded down the lane, and one glance at the broad form with the wide-brim hat behind the wheel told Owen who drove toward him. He would have contacted his dad at some point to fill him in on the pile of crap his grandpa had stepped into, but he’d hoped to have some more answers before they spoke.
Relishing one more blast of cold air, Owen shut off his car and swung the door open to the heat box outside. His phone vibrated against his leg, and he checked the screen as he stood tall and waited for his dad to park.
Dad’s on his way. Sorry. I’ll be there in ten.
Owen snorted and shoved the phone back in his pocket. So much for a heads up, but at least Tommy tried to warn him.
A car door slammed shut and birds scattered into the blue sky. Sheriff Mike Wells marched his way, his hard gaze taking in everything around them.
Owen would have to make sure to keep a tight lid on his attraction to Marie, or his dad would have a thing or two to say about that.
“One dead body and another blood-filled crime scene, and you didn’t think to call me?” Mike halted his abrupt pace in front of Owen, blocking his view of the house, and a cloud of dust swam around their ankles.
Owen clasped his hands in front of him and fought the urge to shuffle his feet—or worse, roll his eyes. He’d been a deputy long enough that he didn’t feel the need to call his dad every time trouble came to town. “I’ve been a bit busy. I’d have called when I had more to tell you.”
Mike nodded toward the house. “How’d you find this place, and why did you enter without a warrant?”
“Did you seriously come all the way out here to ask me if I broke protocol by entering a house without cause?”
“No, I came to see if you need help. Crimes like this don’t come along every day. I can be more helpful than Tommy. You shouldn’t have him in on this. He’s too green.”
A heavy hand came down on Owen’s shoulder, and he tensed under the pressure. He tried to gauge his father’s sincerity—his calm, monotone voice never belied the man’s emotions—but the shadows cast by Mike’s hat hid the facial features so much like his own. “We need every man we can get on this, and Tommy was first on scene. You know as well as I do the first officer to take in a crime scene counts for a lot.”
Mike sighed and dropped his hand to his side then turned to face the house. “I don’t like having two of my sons so close to a murder investigation.”
The twinge of fatigue in his dad’s voice was like a punch in the gut. A grisly crime scene from years ago still haunted their family, always lingering in the back of their minds.
Except for Pappy. The unsolved hit-and-run murder of his only daughter—Owen’s mother—lived in the forefront of his mind and dictated every decision he made.
And the guilt his father harbored led to him trying to control the choices of his children. Owen had been old enough to stand up to his father’s constant interference, but his brother and sister had a more difficult time.
Owen stepped beside his dad and followed his line of sight to the bungalow, knowing full well the dilapidated house tucked away in the woods wasn’t what weighed Mike down. “You can’t protect us. We made our choices.”
“I know.” Mike nodded and faced forward. “Tell me about this place. The crime scene unit will be here shortly. Let’s head inside and take a look until they get here.”
Owen led the way and mentally prepared for the conversation, securing a pair of gloves while he spoke. He launched into his encounter as he mounted the porch steps and crossed the threshold into Marie’s house, nodding to the officer he’d placed outside the front door to protect the scene.
Mike grumbled and huffed along with the story then let out a low whistle when the pool of blood became visible. “Sounds like Lewis got himself involved in a fine mess and dragged you along with him.” He squatted and studied the blood splattered around the living room.
Owen bristled. “He didn’t drag me into anything. This woman needed help, and she’s lucky he was around.”
Mike stood. “Where’s the girl now?”
“She’s staying at the women’s shelter over in Pine Valley. She’s not from here and had no place to go. I’ve got every available set of eyes in the department looking for her boyfriend and nothing so far. If he knows where she is, I think he might go after her.” Owen walked the perimeter of the room, keeping his eyes peeled for anything he’d missed earlier.
“Did she take a purse?”
Owen glanced at his dad with raised brows. “Excuse me?”
“Women always take a purse, but there’s a big bag tucked behind the television stand.”
Owen rounded the couch and glanced in the direction of the television. Sure enough, a large bag laid sprawled on its side. Curiosity moved him forward. He yanked on the brown strap and freed the bag from its hiding space. The force sent lipstick, business cards, and a wallet sprawling to the shag carpet.
Grabbing the wallet, he flipped it open and pulled out the first credit card he found. “This isn’t Marie’s bag. Credit card belongs to an Erica Zyler.” Adrenaline zipped through his veins, and he thumbed through the rest of the cards until he found a driver’s license. The picture boasted a petite woman with blue eyes and dark blonde hair. A healthy glow darkened her skin instead of the pale, bloated face he’d seen floating in the river this morning, but there was no denying the resemblance. “This is the woman who was found this morning. We need to get someone to notify her next of kin.”
A sliver of plastic poked out from beneath the stand, and Owen bent to grab it. He studied the name—same name as the credit card and license—and read the title beside the picture.
Shock vibrated his core and he stood, facing his dad with the ID badge crushed in his fist. “Erica wasn’t just some chick Bill brought home from the bar. She was a reporter.”
