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“I won’t have you harassing Holly Jo. You understand?”
The kid nodded and took off.
Holly Jo wouldn’t look at him. “I can’t believe you just did that,” she said under her breath, head down as she stormed toward the waiting school bus.
“You told me he was bullying you,” he said as he caught up to her. “I came to check on you. I thought you’d like a ride home.”
“You really don’t know anything,” she said, sounding close to tears. “Just leave me alone.” She hurried to the school bus and disappeared inside.
Duffy stood, feeling confused. He’d heard Gus say something to Holly Jo like, “You better be careful. You don’t want to cross—” He hadn’t let the kid finish, but what he’d heard made him think Gus was threatening her.
So why had Holly Jo not been glad that he’d straightened Gus out?
Shaking his head, he went back to his pickup. It just wasn’t his day. Hell, it hadn’t been his year.
THESHERIFFHADN’Tbeen surprised when he’d gotten the call from the state forensics lab tech. The remains found in the well were those of Dixon Malone.
He picked up his Stetson and headed for the door. It was time to talk to Charlotte Stafford, the widow. She hadn’t been seen since the wedding. Stuart knew that she would have heard about the remains found in the well not all that far from her ranch. He figured she wouldn’t be surprised as he drove up to her ranch house and got out.
Charlotte opened the door herself to his knock. He’d thought she looked different at the wedding. Like then, she held her head up high. A tall woman, her blond hair streaked with gray, worn in one long braid that fell almost to her waist. She appeared to have just either returned from a horseback ride or had been about to take one.
Stuart removed his Stetson. “Mrs. Stafford,” he said with a nod.
“Sheriff Layton.” She pushed the door open wider. “Please come in.”
He stepped in, admiring her calm since she had to know why he was in her home.
“Can I offer you something to drink?” He shook his head. “Then please have a seat.”
They sat in the living room. The house seemed strangely quiet. He knew she had staff and two sons who still lived at home. He tried to imagine what it might have been like growing up in such a lavish house, knowing that you owned land for miles in almost every direction. He couldn’t even imagine it or why this woman was so alone. A house this big should be alive with noise and laughter—at least that was the way he’d always imagined it.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about the human remains found in a well not far from here,” Stuart said. She said nothing, simply waited. “They belong to your... husband, Dixon Malone.” That, too, didn’t seem to faze her. She’d obviously been expecting this news.
He pulled out his phone. “I have to ask you on the record, Mrs. Stafford...” He pushed the record button. He’d planned to get into it slowly by asking her when she’d last seen Dixon Malone, ask about the fight they’d had, and take it from there.
He looked at her as he said the date and whom he was interviewing. Then he asked, “Did you kill your husband and dump his body into that well?”
ASPICKETTTAPPEDat the den door, Holden McKenna looked up and smiled. “Come on in, son. What can I do for you?”
He felt like a fool for bringing this to his employer, but over the months since he’d left to go back east and had returned, he and Holden had grown closer. The man had been treating him like he really was his son.
“I’m going to ask Oakley Stafford to marry me,” he said, getting right to the point.
“Good for you,” Holden said. “If you’re looking for my blessing...”
“Actually, I need your advice.” He stepped a little farther into the den. “I’ve been wanting to ask her for weeks, but I just can’t seem to decide on the right time.”
The older man laughed. “It is always the right time, but I know what you mean. You want to make it special, right?”
“We’ve been...dating so I’m torn between a fancy restaurant or some music event.”
Holden was shaking his head. “It’s Oakley. You know her. Neither of those sound right, do they? Where is Oakley most comfortable, most herself? That’s the place where you ask her.”
Pickett laughed. “I think I knew that, but I want to do this right.”
“Believe me, you’ll do it right. I suspect she wants to marry you as badly as you want to marry her.”
“I hope so. Thanks. I’ve got it.”
