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Beau shook his head. “It’s Lute. But I can’t believe he’s got the guts to be a killer. My money’s still on the bartender—for both of them.”
“You may be right,” Will said. “But even if Lute isn’t our killer, I’d pick him for stealing Jasper’s rifle, and maybe firing those shots into Slade, just to frame you. Either way, he’s got to be up to his ears in this mess. If we could get him to tell us half of what he knows . . .”
“He sure as hell won’t talk to me,” Beau growled. “And not to you either, big brother. Maybe Sky could twist his arm and convince him to come clean.”
“I know Sky wants to help. We can ask him what he thinks of the idea.” Will was preparing to say more when Erin came bounding in from the entry, eyes sparkling, ponytail flying. At the sight of her, something tightened around Will’s heart.
“You’ve got to come see this!” She skipped over to the couch, seized her mother’s hand, and reached for Will’s. “Tesoro’s learned to follow me! You come, too, Uncle Beau!”
Putting serious matters aside for now, they trailed her outside. Sky and Jasper were waiting by the paddock fence where the mares grazed with their foals. The palomino colt was growing fast, putting on weight and already losing his fuzzy baby look. His coat gleamed like liquid sunlight as he explored the wonders of fresh grass, clover, and new playmates. He was already bold enough to leave his mother’s side, but he kept glancing back, as if to make sure she was still close by.
Erin climbed over the fence and walked confidently across the grass. She’d be all right, Will reassured himself. Mares could be protective of their babies, but these mares were used to her.
A dozen yards from the golden foal, she stopped, held out her hand, and gave a low whistle. He raised his head and pricked his ears. “Come, Tesoro,” she said softly. “Come here.”
The colt nickered and took a step toward her. Murmuring encouragement, she kept her hand out until he came close enough to nuzzle her fingers. “Good boy.” She stroked his neck. “Such a good boy. Let’s go for a walk.”
Turning she took a few steps, then glanced back. The foal scampered after her, following like a puppy.
“I’ll be damned,” Beau muttered. “How’d she get him to do that, Sky?”
A rare smile lit Sky’s chiseled face. “It’s the imprinting. That’s why Erin needed to handle him right after he was born. Now she’s like family to that foal.”
Sensing that her baby was getting too far away, the mare whinnied nervously. Tesoro paused, looked around, then wheeled and raced back to his mother. Laughing, Erin trotted back toward the fence.
For the flicker of a moment, Will felt Tori’s eyes on him.
Turning away from the others, he beckoned Sky aside. “It looks like we’re going to need your help,” he said.
Sky was headed into town on two vital errands. The first was to find Lute and lean on him hard enough to get some evidence that might help Beau. Not much chance of that, Sky feared. If Lute was criminally involved in Slade Haskell’s murder—either as the killer or as an accessory to the crime—he wasn’t likely to fess up. And even if he was innocent, the young fool hated Beau too much to offer any kind of help.
Sky figured the best he could hope for was getting Lute to admit to stealing Jasper’s rifle.
When he stopped by Haskell Trucking half an hour before closing, he was informed Lute was on the road, hauling a load of hay to a Mexican ranch. The older man at the front desk was courteous enough to tell Sky that the trip usually took about three days and that he was welcome to come back after that.
Sky thanked him and left. The Blue Coyote would be open by now, so he could tackle his second mission. But he’d be smart to wait until the place was busy enough for him to click a photo of the bartender without being noticed. Meanwhile there was time to kill. He treated himself to a double decker and a shake at Burger Shack, picked up a few needed odds and ends at the hardware store, and paid a visit to a wheelchair-bound man who fashioned hand-tooled custom saddles in his home workshop.
By the time he left, it was dark outside. He drove to the Blue Coyote, thinking he wou
ld just snap a picture or two and leave. The parking lot was almost full, but he found an empty spot next to a shiny black Corvette, elegantly small and as sleek as a bullet, with a leather interior. The car wasn’t new, but it was a classic, in mint condition. He’d never seen the car before, but the pricey vehicle looked much too fine for anybody in Blanco Springs. Sky couldn’t help being curious about the owner.
Inside, the bar was noisy and crowded. The tables were full, but Sky managed to slip into the one vacant booth. A half-empty glass with a lipstick print on the rim sat on the opposite side of the table, but its owner appeared to have left, so it seemed all right to stake his claim.
His eyes scanned the customers—pretty much all locals. No sign of anyone who might be driving a racy black convertible. But the skinhead bartender was working, and that was why he’d come.
The man behind the bar was too busy to notice that he was being photographed. Within the next few minutes, Sky was able to get three good facial shots with his phone and send them to Beau. Mission accomplished, he was about to get up and leave when he found his feet blocked by a pair of elegantly narrow, hand-tooled Western boots that looked as if they’d never known a speck of Texas dust.
“You’re sitting in my booth, cowboy.” The husky female voice sounded more upper-class East Coast than down-home Texas.
Sky took his time answering. His gaze traveled upward, taking in the length of her legs and the way the soft designer denim fit every curve. Her white linen blouse, sheer enough to reveal glimpses of the lacy bra underneath, was tucked in at the waist and secured by a silver-studded concha belt that she’d probably bought at some snootified place. The lady was about as far from Blanco Springs as you could get, which made him wonder what the hell she was doing here.
“Sorry, I didn’t see your brand on the booth,” he said.
“It’s right there.” She pointed to the glass. Her copper-hued hair fell in thick waves around her shoulders. Her fine features were offset by a ripe, sensual mouth. She was young, he realized, younger than she was acting. “Can’t a lady even go to the loo without giving up her seat?” she demanded.
Go to the loo? No, she definitely wasn’t from around here.
“There are two seats.” Sky gave her a hint of a smile. “Sit down. If you’ll forgive me, I’ll buy you a refill on that beer.”
