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“Maybe something. Maybe nothing. If Markham only suspected O’Rourke knew something, that could be all it took.” Laredo’s hands closed on her upper arms in a demand for her full attention. “Get it through your head, Jessy. This man is as ruthless as they come. Markham doesn’t wait for a threat to surface. The minute he thinks there is one, he eliminates it.”

The cold-bloodedness of it sparked her anger. “What makes him think he can get away with it?”

“Why would anyone suspect him?” Laredo countered. “If Chase hadn’t survived, would you?”

She didn’t have to answer. He already knew no one would have suspected Monte, not in a million years.

Laredo stood at the head of the hollow, his hand tucked in the hip pockets of his jeans, one leg cocked in a relaxed pose. His back was to the sun, his shadow stretching away from him. On either side of it were two shorter shadows cast by the uniformed deputies who flanked him.

With the heat of the sun’s rays penetrating his shirt to warm his skin, Laredo watched in silence while Logan Echohawk slowly worked his way to the body that lay facedown in the hollow, carefully studying every inch of the ground as he went. A light breeze curled into the area, whispering through the sparse stalks of grass and ruffling O’Rourke’s wiry gray hair.

At last, Echohawk crouched next to the body, looking but not touching. “Did you move him at all?”

“No,” Laredo replied. “The minute I took hold of his wrist to check for a pulse, I could tell rigor had set in.”

“And you didn’t see any other tracks?”

“No. If there were any, the rain probably washed them out.”

Logan straightened, coming erect and leveling a measuring look at Laredo. “So you think the body was here before the storm broke?”

Hard amusement lifted one corner of Laredo’s mouth. “Don’t you?”

Echohawk smiled without humor. “As a matter of fact, I do.” He backed away from the body, turned and retraced his route to the head of the hollow. He halted a few feet from Laredo and looked back at the scene. Then he lifted his gaze to the rough and rocky slopes west of them. “You say you live around here.”

“I fixed up the old line shack up there in the foothills.” Laredo indicated its direction with a nod of his head.

“What time did you get back last night?”

This was old ground. They had been over it already during the drive to the site. At Echohawk’s suggestion, Laredo had ridden with him to the spot. But they both knew it hadn’t been a suggestion Laredo could refuse to accept.

Familiar with the routine, Laredo repeated his previous answer. “It must have been somewhere around ten o’clock.”

“And before that?”

“I left the feedlot around five o’clock, drove to headquarters and had supper at the cookshack, waited around for the storm to let up, and left around nine o’clock or thereabouts.”

“Is that where you usually eat?”

“No. It was the first time,” Laredo admitted, volunteering information he knew Echohawk would have quickly discovered on his own.

“Too bad you didn’t come back before the storm hit,” Echo-hawk remarked in a voice that pointed out the convenient change in Laredo’s routine. “You might have found the body before the rain did its work.”

“That thought has crossed my mind more than once,” Laredo replied.

“I understand your mother lives up there with you. Did she mention seeing or hearing anything unusual yesterday?”

“No. But I’ll ask her.”

“I think I’ll do that,” Echohawk replied, a dry humor in the look that said he knew this was a game they were playing.

“Suit yourself.”

“In fact, I think we’ll take a ride up there now while we’re waiting for the coroner to ar

rive,” he announced.

The deputy on Laredo’s right stirred. “Want me to ride along with you?”

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