The Bodyguard's Return

“None. I’m not hungry this morning.” Savannah went to the cabinet that held the coffee mugs, then poured herself a cup of the brew and joined Winnie at the table.

She suspected the old woman hadn’t rented the upstairs of her house to Savannah because she needed the money but rather because she wanted companionship and somebody to cook for. Winnie’s husband had died three years before, and it was obvious she was lonely.

“How did you sleep?” Winnie asked, the wrinkles in her forehead deepening in concern. When Savannah had come home from Charlie’s place the day before she’d told Winnie what had happened.

Savannah wrapped her hands around the warm coffee mug in an attempt to fight off a chill. “Terrible.” She suddenly remembered the nightmares that had plagued her all night, visions of blood and death and poor Charlie.

Winnie shook her head. “I just don’t understand it. I don’t understand how anyone becomes so desperate they commit suicide.” She paused a moment to take a sip of her coffee. “Why, I saw Charlie yesterday at the grocery store and he seemed just fine.”

Savannah stared at Winnie. “You saw Charlie at the grocery store? What time?”

“I don’t know, it must have been around noon. We met in the ice cream section and he told me how much he loves butter pecan and I told him I was quite partial to plain old chocolate.”

“Did he buy ice cream?”

Winnie frowned. “I saw him get a gallon out of the freezer, but I didn’t see him when he left the store.”

Savannah took a sip of her coffee, her brain burning up as it worked overtime. She knew how much Charlie had loved his butter pecan ice cream. Many evenings she’d shared a bowl with him as they had played a game of chess.

Did a man who planned to commit suicide buy groceries? Did a man who intended to take his own life buy a gallon of ice cream?

All through the night her gut instinct had told her that Charlie didn’t commit suicide, and the fact that the old man had bought ice cream an hour or so before his death only deepened her gut instinct.

Winnie eyed her over the rim of her coffee cup. Despite being seventy-two years old, Winnie was still a sharp tack. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Savannah?”

“I just don’t believe that Charlie committed suicide. Aside from the fact that he bought ice cream a short time before his death, I know Charlie would have never done something like that, knowing I was coming to his house. He would have never wanted me to find him like that.”

“Then what do you think happened?”

“I think Charlie was murdered. He was murdered and somebody made it look like a suicide and I intend to prove it.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Savannah frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not sure. One of the first things I need to do is talk to Sheriff Ramsey.” She took a sip of her coffee, then shook her head. “There’s been too many deaths around here lately.” Strange falls off tractors and from haylofts, a gas heater explosion and other odd deaths. The citizens of Cotter Creek were either unusually unlucky or something more frightening was going on.

She suddenly thought of the handsome hunk she’d literally bumped into on Charlie’s porch the night before. “What do you know about Joshua West?”

A smile curved Winnie’s lips. “Before he left town I think every rancher in the area was locking up their daughters for safekeeping. He’s a charmer, spoiled as a dozen eggs left out in the sun too long, but like all those West boys he’s got a good heart.”

Savannah didn’t care if he was a charmer, or spoiled or had a good heart. His attraction as far as she was concerned was that he was a local who had been out of town for a while and might have some objectivity that could work to her advantage.

But, more importantly, she knew the West name carried weight in Cotter Creek and the sheriff would give more credence to Joshua than he ever would to her. She had a feeling if she wanted people to take her seriously about Charlie’s death, then it wouldn’t hurt to have Joshua West on her side.

“Are you sure you don’t want something for breakfast?” Winnie asked. “You know a good breakfast is always the way to start a good day.”

Savannah laughed. “My mother believed a protein shake and an hour on a StairMaster was the way to start each day.”

“That’s what happens to people when they got more money than sense,” Winnie scoffed. “A couple of eggs?”

Savannah relented and nodded her head. She suspected Winnie didn’t care so much about what she ate but wasn’t quite ready for Savannah to fly out the door and leave her alone for the day.

It was after nine when Savannah left the house, her stomach full and a renewed burn of determination in her soul. Her first stop was at the sheriff’s office, where she was disappointed to learn that Sheriff Ramsey wasn’t in.

She left the office, got into her car and headed for the West ranch. She hoped she could enlist Joshua West’s help in demanding a full investigation into Charlie’s death. Charlie deserved at least that much, and, as far as Savannah was concerned, Sheriff Ramsey hadn’t been too diligent in following up on other deaths in the small town.

The West ranch was a sprawl of pasture surrounding a huge rambling home with a long wooden porch that was perfect for sitting and watching the sunset in the evenings. On more than one occasion in the last couple of months she and Meredith had sat on the porch, talking while the sun went down.

Savannah had always found friendships difficult. From the time she was young her mother had chosen her friends. They had to be beautiful, stylish and from privileged backgrounds. Savannah had never fit in and had found it difficult to trust females so different than her.

But Meredith West was another story. She certainly came from a family who had tons of money, but she suffered no airs, didn’t judge people by their clothes or their looks. She was refreshingly normal after Savannah’s years of being surrounded by superficiality.

It was Meredith who answered Savannah’s knock. As usual the tall brunette was clad in a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Her long dark hair was in a careless ponytail. “Savannah.” She opened the screen door, stepped out on the porch and drew Savannah into the warmth of an embrace. “I heard about Charlie. I’m so sorry.”

A wave of grief swept over Savannah, but she shoved it aside. She had no time for grief. She was on a mission. “Thanks, I still can’t believe it myself.”

“I was going to call you this morning to see how you were doing.”

“I’m doing okay. Actually, I’m here to see your brother.”

Meredith frowned. “My brother? Which one?”

“Joshua. Is he home?”

“He’s here, but he’s out riding at the moment. Come on in. He should be back before too long.” Meredith ushered her into the house and toward the kitchen.

Smokey Johnson, the West cook and the man who had helped raise the West children when their mother had been murdered, scowled as the two women entered the room he considered his exclusive domain.

“You be nice, Smokey,” Meredith exclaimed. “Savannah is quite fragile this morning.”

The old man snorted. “Red-haired girls aren’t fragile. They’re tough as nails, got to be to get through all the teasing they take when they’re young.”

Savannah was accustomed to Smokey, who was a cliché of a tough old coot with a heart of gold. “I’m not feeling fragile this morning. I’m feeling more than a little pissed off because I think somebody killed my friend and made it look like a suicide.”

Smokey pointed a gnarled finger toward a chair at the table. “What are you talking about? According to what Joshua told us when he got home last night it was an open-and-shut case of suicide.”

Meredith gazed at Savannah sympathetically. “Everyone knew how much Charlie missed his wife since her death eight years ago. Maybe he just got tired of waiting to join her in the hereafter.”

Savannah shook her head vehemently. “After eight years? Give me a break. Sure, Charlie missed Rebecca and he was looking forward to the time when they would be together again, but he also believed that everyone went when it was time for them to go. After eight years of being alone why would he suddenly decide to end it all?”

Before anyone could reply, the back door opened and Joshua stepped into the kitchen. He stopped short at the sight of her and frowned. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

“Joshua!” Meredith shot her brother a dirty look. “Where are your manners?”

“I lost them when she kicked me in the shin hard enough to half cripple me yesterday.”

Warmth swept up Savannah’s neck as she remembered the kick she’d delivered to him. “I thought you’d killed Charlie.”

She’d recognized in the brief time she’d seen him the day before that he was handsome, but his attractiveness today hit her like a kick from a horse.