Cooper’s Redemption (Crimson Romance) (2 page)

With a shrug, Cooper dismounted and strode to the door. He grabbed hold and dragged it against the storm, struggling to hold on. To make matters worse, the blue heeler barked and loped inside.

“Mischief, come here.” He had to shout to be heard.

She ignored him.

“Mischief, come here, girl. Right now.” Exasperated, Cooper let go of the frame, and the wind hurled it against the building with a vengeance. “Dog, you better come right now. I sure named you right.”

After a minute of fruitless waiting, he decided to see if his cattle were in the pens. No one noticed the racket so far, so he figured he’d be safe for another minute or two. He wrapped his reins around the hitching post and sidled around to the back side of the building. The corrals were empty. He opened a gate and stepped inside. Although snow was starting to stick, he could see by the tramped up ground his herd had been held here.

“Hell and damn.” Since there was nothing more he could do right then, he wound his way back around the barn to his horse. Still no sign of Mischief. He whistled, but she refused to come out.

Cooper followed her inside. The interior was pitch black. For a moment, he froze. He took a deep breath. Lots of room, and a way out. He’d been here before and he remembered the layout. The air was several degrees warmer and smelled musty. He didn’t see his dog in the gloom. He couldn’t see his own hand. “Mischief,” he called quietly.

She whined in response and he moved a step, almost tripping over her. She growled low, the way she did when a stranger came to the ranch. A little uneasy, he stopped. When something made a low huffing sound, he froze, trying to make out a shape but it was too dark to see clearly. He took another step trying to reach Mischief, but she eluded his reach.

He began to get his bearings. Drawing in a deep breath, he caught the odor of fragrant hay, sawdust, and fresh horse droppings. Another scent, overpowering and metallic, assaulted his nostrils. Blood.

A slender beam of moonlight fell across the darkened building, lighting up a pair of white-rimmed eyes. A frightened horse. Henry’s black and white gelding. He thought the gelding had been sold with the rest of the stock. “What’s the matter, boy?” Cooper reached out to place a hand on the horse’s neck and the animal shied away.

Cooper knelt on one knee in the straw and began to talk in a quiet, nonthreatening manner. Patiently, he kept up a stream of lyrical words. After several uneasy minutes, the horse stepped toward him and touched his hand with a warm muzzle. Cooper stroked the animal’s nose.

He’d put the horse in a stall and be on his way. With one hand on the horse’s halter, Cooper turned. As he did he felt something sticky on his sole. Thinking he’d stepped in horse manure, he scuffed his foot in the straw and took another step. The horse suddenly reared up and yanked out of his grasp. Cooper stumbled, put his hands out to break his fall and his palms landed in something soft. “What the hell?”

He pushed to his feet, turned toward the door and before he could see who stood there, his eye was caught by a flash of red. As he watched, confused, red liquid spread and dripped to the ground from his hands. He lifted his palm and sniffed. The blood he’d noticed earlier. He didn’t think he’d hit that hard. Had the horse been hurt? Glancing toward the door, he saw the silhouette of someone in the doorway. Then, before a bright beam blinded him, he caught a vague glimpse of a face. When the figure moved, he knew she was a woman. She took two uncertain steps forward, then stopped.

“Who is that? What have you done?”

“What’re you talking about?” Looking down, he saw what he had fallen on: a body. Cooper knelt beside the form, keeping his shoulder turned so if the woman tried to bash him, too, he’d be prepared to duck. A shudder ripped through him as images whirred in his head. Another man, his head bloodied, lying at his feet … “Bring that light over here,” he commanded, mouth dry.

Cooper felt for a pulse as the woman held up her light from a few feet away. As the beam crawled across the victim, there wasn’t any doubt he was dead. Cooper recognized the man. Lyle Pritchett, half-brother of the deputy sheriff. What had Lyle been doing in Harper’s abandoned barn with an agitated horse? Had the horse reared and hit him with its hooves? Or had the woman bashed Lyle’s skull in for some reason?

Cooper stood and stepped back. For the first time he took a long look at the woman. Medium height, slender, she wore a stocking cap, bulky jacket, and gloves. She stared back at him with wide, frightened eyes. In the beam of the flashlight she appeared ghostly pale. She bit her bottom lip until it looked like she’d pierce it.

Before he could form a question, words began spilling out of her.

“Oh my God. Who are you? What are you doing in this barn? What did you do to this poor man?” The beam of light made crazy circles around his head as she waved the flashlight.

Cooper stared at her, not sure he’d heard right. “What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t touch him except to feel for a pulse. I have … had … no quarrel with Lyle.”

She backed up a step, her demeanor suggesting she’d run like a doe at hunting season if he as much as breathed wrong. “Lyle? That man came to my door earlier and asked if I needed any help. I told him to go away. He seemed weird, just showing up out of the blue like that.”

Cooper sighed. That sounded like Lyle. He’d often hit people up for a little work when he needed money for a room or a drink. Cooper had even hired the old guy once or twice, even though he hadn’t had any money to spare. Lyle hadn’t judged him. If he hadn’t killed the old guy, and this woman hadn’t, who had?

Before he could make further comment, the woman whipped a cell phone out of her pocket and dialed. “There’s a body on my property. Yes, I said a body. I don’t know what happened, or when, but his head’s split open. No, I didn’t discover it. No, I’m not alone. I don’t know his name. Hurry. My name is Elizabeth Adams.”

Cooper’s ears rang and his jaw went slack. He fought for control. Elizabeth Adams. The only niece of Henry Harper. When she found out who he was he might as well pack. He’d be headed behind the walls of Canon City prison before he could say, “I didn’t do it.”

Chapter 2

Deputy Tom Harper responded to Elizabeth Adam’s 911 call, and upon his arrival, read Cooper his rights and handcuffed him to a ladder-back chair in the kitchen. He repeatedly asked the same questions. He made Elizabeth wait in the living room, out of earshot, until a car pulled up a few minutes ago and she’d gone outside to meet the new arrival.

“I want my lawyer.” Cooper braced himself. Years of learning patience had given him the strength to withstand anything — even the deputy’s relentless grilling.

“This ain’t Law and Order. You’ll get a lawyer when I say you get one.” Harper hammered at him with rapid-fire intensity, refusing to give him a chance to respond. “I want a straight answer,” he demanded again.

“When I have an attorney.” Cooper swayed in his chair. With an effort, he righted himself. His shoulders ached. He’d been up riding since dawn. There wasn’t an explanation Harper wanted to hear. The deputy thought he’d found a way to even the score.

“What were you doing? Hunting cows, you said? Isn’t the truth you were coming back to the scene of the original crime? To see where you did in Uncle Henry? Did you get a taste of blood, like a renegade coyote, and want some more? Was my brother as easy to kill as my Uncle Henry? Easy pickings?” Harper grabbed the front of Cooper’s shirt and twisted until the top three buttons popped off.

“I came to see if any of my cattle were here. Like I already told you.” Cooper stared at his ruined shirt. The old, worn-out chambray was one of his favorites.

“I can’t say it any other way.”

Harper glared at him. Cooper made an effort to concentrate on something besides his aching shoulders. He had been bound to the chair for almost an hour. His back felt like it was about to split open like a ripe cantaloupe, but he wouldn’t allow the deputy to see his misery. He bit the inside of his cheek, a trick he’d learned as a child.

A gleaming white coffee pot seemed out of place in the old kitchen, but the recently-brewed coffee sure smelled good. He desperately wished for a cup. He tore his gaze away and stared at the God-awful Formica counter tops. The room looked much the same as the last time he’d been in it. Bea had been so proud of the gaudy avocado-colored refrigerator Henry had bought her that she’d painted the kitchen to match.

“I’m going to throw your ass in jail and see if that loosens your tongue,” Harper threatened.

Cooper steeled himself. The loss of his freedom scared him more than he cared to admit. He had vowed to never be locked up again after he escaped his mother’s torture chamber. The wide open spaces and freedom had drawn him to ranching. Harper might try to trick him into a false admission of guilt, but Cooper would control himself at all costs. He forced his lips shut. He’d say or do nothing that would incriminate him.

The door opened, and a gust of wind chilled the room. “What in God’s name is going on in here?”

Cooper lifted his chin and met the horrified gaze of Elizabeth Adams. If she’d been terrified in the barn, she appeared even worse now. She looked like she’d seen an abomination. He guessed she wasn’t used to seeing a half-dressed man hog-tied to one of her kitchen chairs.

Her eyes flashed and her pale cheeks turned bright pink. “I asked you a question, Deputy. Is this the way the police do business in this part of the country? If so, it’s no wonder you can’t find my mother.”

Behind her stood Sheriff Pete Marlowe, his eyes cold under thick white eyebrows. His long legs covered the room in two strides. “Let him go, Harper. Now.”

The deputy unlocked the handcuffs. “I found him standing over my brother’s body. I’m just trying to get an answer.”

“By tying a man up like a dog? I’m sorry about Lyle, but this isn’t how I run things. I’ll deal with you later.” He turned to Cooper. “You all right?”

Cooper nodded. He refrained from rolling his shoulders or rubbing his wrists. “You playing the good cop?”

“Remarks like that’ll get you sitting in a cell faster than you can open that smart mouth again. Start from the beginning and tell me what happened here tonight.”

Cooper glanced again at the coffee pot, but no one offered him any. He sagged back into the chair and tried to gather his thoughts. His gaze settled on the woman. She’d taken off her coat and hat. Her reddish-blond hair put him in mind of a summer sunset and her knockout figure could almost make him forget his aching body. For some reason it mattered she knew he hadn’t killed Pritchett.

“Deputy, take Miss Adams in the other room until I come get you,” Sheriff Marlowe demanded.

With one last glare at Cooper, Harper complied. The woman gave him a compassionate look before she was guided away.

Cooper said, “I want an attorney.”

• • •

Elizabeth watched as Sheriff Marlowe settled himself on the sofa. “I’d like to hear your version of what went on here tonight.”

She nodded. “A strange man — the dead one — came to my door and asked me if I had anything he could do to make some money. He gave me the creeps, so I sent him away. Later, when I heard a dog bark, I thought it might be him again. It took me a couple minutes to find the flashlight.” She nodded toward the kitchen where she could see the stranger sitting. “That’s when I found this other man in my barn.”

“Did you see a herd of cows here today? Or hear them?” Sarcasm dripped from Tom’s voice. He held a hand about three feet off the ground. “They’re about so tall, red or black. They make a lot of noise. Moo, moo.”

She glanced at him. “No, I — ”

“How did you find Cooper?” Sheriff Marlowe interrupted.

“What do you mean? Oh, you mean the second man?”

Marlowe nodded. “What was he doing when you first saw him?” He flipped open a small notepad and clicked a pen.

She frowned. “He was standing over Mr. Pritchett.”

“What do you mean?”

She bit her lip, then spoke. “Well, when I shined my light he was sort of … hovering over the … body … I mean … his hands were … bloody. Nevertheless, I don’t think he did any harm to anyone,” she added.

“Why not?” Marlowe stared at her.

Her eyes met Cooper’s. From across two rooms, she held his steady gaze for a long moment. A flush burned across her face and she focused her attention back on the sheriff. “I saw the expression on his face. He didn’t have the look of a murderer, or the air of one. I sense there’s no way he could’ve killed that man.”

“That’s interesting, Elizabeth.” Deputy Harper sneered. “Because you’re looking at the man who did in Uncle Henry. And Lyle? Your cousin? That man in there is the one I warned you to stay away from.”

Lyle was her cousin? Her gaze once again collided with Cooper’s. She considered him another minute, then turned to Tom. “In spite of how you feel about that, I stand by my statement. I don’t believe this man had time to kill anyone today.”

Sheriff Marlowe sighed and said, “I think we need to continue this downtown. Deputy, see that Cooper’s horse gets home.”

• • •

Marlowe leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the table. “Let’s hear it one more time, Cooper.”

“I’ve told you everything.” Cooper had been over the details of his arrival on the Harper ranch until he wanted to pound the table in frustration. They ignored his repeated requests for a lawyer. Midnight passed hours ago and his eyes burned. He refused to be beaten down and tricked into a false confession.

Marlowe studied him for a moment. “Your hot head has gotten you in trouble before, Cooper. You’re lucky you got off on the last murder rap. It won’t happen again. Did Lyle owe you some money? Make you mad? Didn’t finish a job, maybe? What happened? Lose your temper and bash him on the head, just like Henry? The question is, why in Harper’s barn? Did you arrange to meet, thinking no one would look out there?”

“I didn’t have any problems with Lyle.” Cooper knew protesting was useless. Marlowe had made up his mind. The sheriff was going to send him straight to prison. He was the only suspect in two deaths in a little over four months. His future didn’t look good.