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Authors: Pamela Clare

Tags: #Romantic Suspense, #Horses, #colorado, #Western, #disabled, #mature romance, #pamela clare, #iteam, #skin deep, #mature couple

Soul Deep (17 page)

BOOK: Soul Deep
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She handed him some pages from a notepad. “I
asked Luke a few questions just after he was shot. These are my
notes. Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Thanks.” Taylor took her notes, glanced
through them, his brow furrowed with concentration.

Jack turned to her. “He was just telling me
that the Kimber they found in Kip’s possession had a different
serial number and was a different model than the one that was
reported stolen.”

Taylor looked up from Janet’s notes. “That
doesn’t mean anything when it comes to confirming or disproving his
guilt. We don’t know that the stolen Kimber played any role in the
shootings. Kip could have used any one of the forty-fives he owns.
We won’t know until the ballistics come back.”

“I offered to expedite that,” Janet said.
“I’d be happy to get the evidence transferred to the Bureau and
have it processed through us. You’d have it back in a matter of
weeks.”

Taylor gave her a sympathetic smile. “I’m not
the one you need to convince.”

Jack couldn’t understand what Rove’s problem
was. “It seems to me we ought to have proof positive that Kip fired
those shots before we condemn him to years in prison.”

“A living eye witness is direct evidence,”
Taylor said. “You said Kip and Luke never met. The fact that Luke
identified Kip from a lineup will seem pretty powerful to a jury.
Combine that with motive and opportunity, and it’s clear why the DA
is pushing Kip to plead guilty. He believes he can avoid the
expense of a trial.”

“Do you mind if I look through your file?”
Janet asked.

Taylor pushed the folder across the table
toward her. “Go ahead.”

Jack watched as she glanced quickly through
the file, looking at photos of Chinook’s wound, Luke’s bleeding
shoulder, the crime scene. He could see the wheels of her sharp
mind turning. Although he appreciated her desire to help and knew
that she was doing this partly out of concern for him, he didn’t
want her to have nightmares again.

Taylor turned to Jack. “Besides Kip
Henderson, are there any other current or former employees who
might feel they have a score to settle with you?”

Jack shook his head. “Hell, I don’t know. I
suppose there could be, but nothing comes to mind. I haven’t gotten
any threats.”

“Is there anyone here at the ranch who might
have a grudge against Kip?”

The question took Jack by surprise. He gave
the answer some thought.

“He did win some pretty big money off a few
of the men in a string of poker games. A couple of the men—Burt,
Liam, and Joe—accused him of cheating, and some pretty strong words
were exchanged. But no one threatened him, and no one got hurt. I
put an end to it.”

They were interrupted by a knock at the
door.

“You wanted to see me?” Luke stepped in,
cowboy hat in his hands. The powder burns on his face and neck were
healing and almost matched his freckles now.

Janet closed the file and handed it back to
Taylor.

Taylor stood, shook Luke’s hand. “How’s the
arm?”

“It’s better, I guess.”

“I just wanted to fill in a few blanks and
make certain I have the whole picture.”

“Have a seat, son.” Jack gestured to the
other wingback chair.

Taylor waited for him to sit, opened his
notes. “So, when the door opened, were you asleep or awake?”

“I’d been asleep, but I woke up right
away.”

“Did Kip leave the door open behind him, or
did he close it?”

“I don’t really remember. I think he left it
open.”

“Were the lights on or off?”

Luke seemed to consider it. “They were off
because it was night and I was trying to sleep, but he turned them
on. I guess he needed to see to shoot.”

“Did he tell you who he was, or did you
ask?”

“I asked who he was and what he was doing
there.”

“Did he try to shoot the stallion? Did he
point his weapon that direction?”

Luke shook his head. “I think he saw me going
for my gun.”

“So you reached for your weapon before he
fired?”

“Yeah, I did. I saw the gun in his hand. I
had to defend myself and Chinook.”

“Where was your weapon?”

“I had it with me under my pillow—just in
case.”

“How far away from you was he standing when
he pulled the trigger?”

Luke looked angry, flustered. “Why do you
keep asking me the same things I already answered?”

“Don’t let it upset you,” Jack reassured him.
“It’s standard procedure.”

Luke nodded, grew calmer. “I don’t remember.
Close. It happened so fast.”

“How many shots did you fire?”

“Two, I think. I really can’t remember.”

Taylor nodded, wrote that down. “How close
was he when you fired?”

“Not far at all. I can’t believe I
missed.”

“Adrenaline will screw up your aim like
nothing else,” Jack said.

Taylor pressed on. “Had he turned to go, or
was he facing you when you fired?”

Luke shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

Taylor closed his notebook. “I think I’ve got
everything I need.”

“Can I go now?”

Taylor nodded to Jack.

“Yes, you may.” Jack got to his feet, walked
Luke to the door. “Thank you for your help, son.”

“Luke, one last thing.” This time it was
Janet who asked the question. “Can you describe the weapon Kip was
holding or tell us anything about it?”

Luke nodded. “It was a semi-auto with a fancy
camo pattern on the grips.”

Custom camo grips.

Janet gave him a warm smile. “Thanks,
Luke.”

# # #

“What’s on your mind, angel? You’ve been a
million miles away all evening.”

Janet said what she was thinking. “Something
about this just doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. Call it a hunch. The way the
case came together—it’s too perfect, too … textbook. I know Taylor
feels the same way. That’s why he was here this afternoon. That’s
why he asked you those questions.”

“You’re saying you think Kip is
innocent?”

She shrugged. “No. I don’t know. Maybe.”

“What brought this on?”

She wasn’t sure how to quantify or explain
her gut feeling. “I looked through the photos in Taylor’s file. I
was thinking how lucky we were that Kip didn’t hit his target. Both
times, he grazed his intended victim, then ran off and disappeared,
even though he was standing no more than a few feet away.”

Jack could understand this. “He was probably
drunk and ratcheted up on adrenaline. I once watched a soldier
unload his pistol at a VC at almost point-blank range. Seven
shots—and not one of them hit the guy. He had to run the bastard
through with his bayonet.”

She knew how adrenaline worked. “That’s not
what I meant. Why, after coming all the way up here in the bad
weather, did he fire only once each time? Why not keep firing until
he accomplished his goal? He was standing right there. It’s like he
was afraid he might succeed. You say Kip was a crack shot?”

Jack nodded. “When he was sober.”

“If he was so drunk he could barely hit the
broadside of your barn, how did he manage to drive all the way up
here, sneak onto your property, shoot like a drunk, then escape and
get back to Denver without being seen or ending up in a car
accident?”

Jack frowned. “I suppose stranger things have
happened.”

But Janet was just getting warmed up. “Here’s
another thing. Luke can’t remember a host of details, but he does
remember that the weapon Kip aimed at him had custom camo grips
like the weapon the hunters reported stolen, even though the grips
would have largely been concealed in Kip’s hand.”

“You think he’s lying?”

“I think there’s more to this than we know.”
She got to her feet. “Let’s go to the stables. I want to do a
walk-through.”

“This is really important to you, isn’t
it?”

She looked into his eyes, saw that he was
worried about her. “Yes, it is.”

“Then it’s important to me, too. I’ll meet
you in the mudroom in five.”

She got to her feet, the facts of the case
running through her mind, the images in the crime scene photos like
a slideshow in her brain. She put on her boots, slipped into her
parka, and was sliding her hands into her gloves when Jack appeared
wearing his Colt in a shoulder holster, sat phone in his hand.

He tucked the phone into the pocket of his
coat. “If there’s any chance that the shooter is still out
there...”

He didn’t need to explain further.

They stepped out into the cold, and Janet
stopped in her tracks. For a moment, all she could do was stare.
“Look at the sky. God, that’s beautiful.”

The sun had long since set, and the sky was
clear, a million stars glittering like diamonds. She could even see
the Milky Way.

Jack chuckled, gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s
a good thing every now and again to look up at the sky.”

She let herself look for a few more seconds,
then moved on. “Let’s pretend we’re the shooter. Let’s enter
there.”

“Whatever you say, SA Killeen.” There was a
teasing tone to his voice. “We need to go around to the other
side.”

They reached the door, which was both locked
and cordoned off with yellow crime-scene tape.

“Are you trying to get me arrested?” He tore
through the tape, then took out a ring of keys, unlocked the bolt,
and slid the door open.

Inside, the stables were almost pitch
black.

“How could anyone even see to find the light
switch?”

“Kip knows where it is.” As if to prove the
point, Jack walked inside and flicked on the lights.

The switch was on the south wall next to
Chinook’s stall.

“So the shooter had to step in, walk a few
feet inside in the dark, and flip the lights on.” She followed in
Jack’s footsteps, processing this in her mind. “That puts him out
of sight of Luke and his cot for a moment, doesn’t it?”

Thanks to the walls of Chinook’s stall, the
shooter couldn’t see Luke from this position, and Luke couldn’t see
the shooter.

But Kip would have been able to see the
stallion.

“Why didn’t he just shoot Chinook from here?
He couldn’t have known Luke was there until he stepped around the
corner.”

“Luke probably gave himself away when he
challenged Kip.”

“That could be.” Janet moved on, filing all
of this away. “According to Luke, the shooter stepped through the
door, flipped on the lights. Luke woke up, asked him who he was,
and he answered, ‘Kip.’”

“Not very bright of him,” Jack said.

Janet couldn’t help but laugh. “Most
criminals aren’t all that smart.”

She followed what she assumed had been the
shooter’s footsteps and walked out toward the center of the room.
Luke’s cot was still sitting where it had been that night. She
walked to the place Luke said the shooter had stood. “Luke said the
shooter came close to him, weapon drawn, saw him go for his gun and
then shot him.”

She stood there, looked down at the cot,
thought of the many photos she’d seen—Luke’s shoulder wound, the
stippling on his skin. “Where did they find the slug?”

Jack walked toward the eastern wall, pointed
to a white chalk circle at about chest height. “It’s right
here.”

Janet held up her hands as if she had a gun
and sighted on an imaginary Luke, her gaze shifting from where Luke
had sat to the hole in the wall.

Chills ran down her spine.

“This doesn’t make sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“If Kip was standing and Luke was sitting on
the cot, the bullet would have had a downward trajectory. Instead,
it’s lodged four feet off the ground. That round ought to have
ended up somewhere closer to the floor.”

Jack frowned, looked from the cot to the
wall. “You’re right. It doesn’t line up.”

“Also, Luke was shot in his right shoulder.
That slug is to your left when it ought to be farther to your
right. Whoever pulled the trigger had to be lower to the
ground.”

Or sitting on the cot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“You’re saying Luke shot himself?” Jack
wanted to respect Janet’s opinion, but this seemed completely off
the deep end. “Why on God’s green earth would he do that?”

“I don’t know.” Janet glanced around, as if
the answers could be found somewhere in the scattered straw. “Maybe
he wanted to cover for himself, put the blame on someone else for
Chinook’s shooting.”

“Why would he shoot Chinook? The kid loves
horses.”

She seemed to consider this. “You said he
doesn’t like doing anything that doesn’t involve the horses. He’s
gotten a lot of attention and praise from you and the other men
since the night Chinook was shot. Maybe he was trying to prove
himself. He created a crisis, then he helped you resolve it. He was
even wounded.”

Jack wasn’t convinced. “He’d have to be
awfully damned cool-headed. The smallest error, and he’d have
broken Chinook’s leg or killed himself.”

But Janet wasn’t listening. “Where’s the
weapon? He wouldn’t have had time to run and hide it somewhere else
before the other men responded to the gunfire. He was bleeding
pretty heavily, and that would have left a trail. That means he
must have hidden it somewhere in here.”

“The sheriff’s investigators turned this
place inside out.”

“You looking for this?”

Jack heard Luke’s voice, heard Janet gasp,
and stepped forward to see Luke standing just inside the doorway, a
bag of oats spilled at his feet, a Kimber 1911 with what looked
like camo grips in his hand, its barrel pointed at Janet.

Before Jack could clear his weapon, Luke had
her, his arm around her neck, her body shielding his, the Kimber
pressed against her temple. “I guess the sheriff’s men didn’t think
to look through Chinook’s feed.”

BOOK: Soul Deep
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