Warrior Son

A wary look flashed in those dark brown eyes. “Of course I won’t say anything. But if it’s true, someone needs to find out who poisoned Joe McCullen.”

“And how they did it,” Roan muttered. “It would have been difficult with Dr. Cumberland monitoring his health.” And there was no way he could accuse the good doctor of foul play. Roan knew Cumberland personally. He was the most compassionate man Roan had ever met. He’d donated time to the res when they needed a Western doctor.

He’d even treated Roan’s mother. For God’s sake, he’d held her hand and comforted her before she passed.

But Joe could have had visitors. Someone could have slipped something to him when nobody was watching.

“What if Barbara or her son, Bobby, did it?” Megan said. “You know Barbara got tired of waiting on Joe to marry her. Maybe she decided to kill him and get what was owed her.”

Roan frowned. “True. But if he was sick anyway, why kill him? Why not wait until the disease got the best of him?”

* * *

MEGAN CONSIDERED ROAN’S STATEMENT. Why would someone go to the trouble to kill a man who was already dying?

“Megan?”

His gruff voice always turned her inside out. When she looked up at him, he was watching her with an intensity that sent a tingle through her.

“I don’t know.” Barbara and Bobby resented the fact that Joe kept them a secret. Part of her understood their animosity. “Maybe Barbara knew that Joe had included her in the will. But what if he’d decided to change it recently? Maybe he was going to cut them out for some reason.”

“And one or both of them decided to kill him before he could,” Roan finished.

She nodded. “That would make sense.”

Roan’s wide jaw snapped tight. “If that’s the case, I need proof. I doubt either one of the Lowmans are going to cop to murder.”

She doubted that, too. “What’s our next move?”

Roan’s gaze met hers. “We don’t have a next move, Megan. If you go around making accusations, you could get hurt.”

Megan drummed her fingers on the table. She noticed Roan watching and realized how desperately she needed a manicure—the chemicals she worked with at the morgue were hell on her nails and skin—so she curled her fingers into her palms.

Still the questions she’d had since she’d first suspected poison in Joe’s tox report nagged at her. She wasn’t some delicate princess type who ran from trouble. When she had questions, she sought answers. It was the nature of being a scientist and doctor. “But I can’t let this go, Roan.”

Roan laid one big hand on top of both of hers. “Listen to me. I’m the lawman. First things first. Get that report, then call me with the results. If you confirm poison, I’ll investigate.”

Memories of him intimately touching her flooded her as she stared at their fingers. She wanted to relive that night. At least one more time.

But Roan quickly pulled his hand away, his jaw set hard again, his high cheekbones accentuated by the way his hair was pulled back in a leather tie. The only time he’d ever let down his guard was the night his mother died.

He obviously regretted doing it then.

But at least he hadn’t thought she was crazy. If that report confirmed what she suspected, he’d investigate.

She’d have to be satisfied with that for now.

* * *

ROAN TRIED TO shake off the ridiculous need to fold Megan in his arms and ask her to go home with him. He could use the sweet release of a hot night in bed with her again.

But one look into that vulnerable face and he knew that would be a mistake. Megan was not a one night stand kind of girl.

Which made it even more awkward that he’d used her for comfort the night his mother died and never contacted her again.

She knew what she was getting into. She’s a big girl.

Only she wasn’t like the other women he knew. She was smart, curious, a problem solver.

And she had no idea how beautiful she was.

But her words disturbed him. She thought Joe was murdered. And she hadn’t just offered some harebrained reason. She had offered a believable motive.

One he would investigate. On his own.

He didn’t want her near him. She was too damn tempting.

Worse, asking questions could be dangerous.

He tossed some bills on the table to pay for the drink. “Like I said, call me when you get the results of that tox screen.”

He stood, tipped his Stetson and strode through the busy bar. Music rocked the establishment, laughter and chatter filling the air. Men and women came here to unwind and hook up.

But he ignored the interested females and strode outside. His mind was already ticking away what he needed to do.

He and Maddox were still trying to figure out who set those fires. Could the same person have murdered Joe?

And then there was Barbara and Bobby Lowman...

Megan’s comment about the will made him reach for his phone. He climbed in his SUV and punched Darren Bush’s number, but received the lawyer’s voice mail. “It’s Deputy Whitefeather,” he said. “Please call me as soon as possible.”

He might be jumping the gun, but he’d drive out to the Lowmans’ house tonight and take a look around.

* * *

MEGAN WATCHED ROAN leave with mixed emotions. She was relieved he’d taken her concerns seriously.

But disappointed that he didn’t hint at wanting a personal relationship.

She blinked back tears. Good grief. She wasn’t a crier. She’d learned long ago not to let rejection destroy her. Like her father said, she had brains and she’d use them to survive.

In fact, it was better she wasn’t gorgeous like her sister. The cops suspected Shelly was targeted by the man who’d killed her because of her looks. Even their mother had been model pretty.

But she’d never gotten over Shelly’s death and had eventually committed suicide as if Megan wasn’t enough to fill the void Shelly had left.

As if she was the daughter who should have died instead of Shelly.

Bile rose to her throat at the memories, and she pushed her wine aside, then headed to the door. She elbowed her way through the crowd, ignoring catcalls from drunk cowboys as she stepped outside.