Chapter 3

3

The sheriff of Value finally arrived and called in a forensics team from Finley Creek. It was a bit awkward; the Fields’ long-lost granddaughter Charlotte, Charlie’s daughter, worked the mobile unit sometimes.

Gene hadn’t ever met her, but he’d heard her story.

She was standing next to her father now—and her aunt.

He studied the Fields’ granddaughter for a moment. She was around the same age as her aunt, but she had more muted red-brown hair than Chantal.

Chantal’s hair was as red as fire and long. Thick.

There was a strong resemblance, though. Especially from a distance.

They were small women. He’d never looked that closely at Chantal in recent years—not as a man looked at a woman, anyway.

He did now. It shocked him when he did. When he really looked at her.

Chantal was a beautiful woman now, who men would easily want. Even in the old jeans and thin sleeveless flannel shirt.

They’d both draw male attention. Effortlessly.

She wasn’t the awkward, extremely shy girl he remembered.

When had that changed?

The sheriff was asking him a lot of questions—pointed ones—as they walked to where the body had been buried. And asking the same of Chantal. Although no one was pushing too hard, considering her oldest brother was right there, and damned high up the food chain at the TSP.

Her brother was hovering over her now. Glowering like he always was.

And growling at the other cops out there if they did anything to upset his baby sister. The guy was intimidating, and he knew it, and with a sister twenty years younger, Charlie had always been extremely protective of Chantal.

Gene could understand that—he had three little sisters of his own that were quite a bit younger than his own thirty-seven; the youngest, Greer, was twenty-four. There wasn’t anything Gene wouldn’t do to keep his sisters safe, no matter what the cost.

As Gene watched, Charlie almost nudged Chantal toward a big guy in a TSP polo who was obviously in charge. Gene didn’t like the looks of the dark-haired guy at all, but it was obvious he’d met Chantal before. The man hugged her in front of everyone. The guy held her for a moment, like he was comforting her. Chantal hugged him back. Almost clung to the man like she needed the comfort.

Hell, her own brother was there. What was she doing in that guy’s arms?

She had to lead them to the body.

As they got farther up into the hills behind his place, Chantal got a little jumpier with every step.

Gene found himself at her side. Her brother walked on her other side. They were all suspects. He knew that. The body was too damned close to their properties, and the site was inaccessible.

Or it should be.

Yet there was a body right there.

Gene fought a sudden rush of nausea when he saw... what was in front of him. A hand, obviously feminine, stuck up through the clay next to two large boulders.

None of them could miss it.

Chantal just stood and stared.

“Who is she?” she whispered the question. Then she looked at him. “Where are Giavonna and Genny and Greer today?”

His sisters.

It hadn’t even occurred to him that it could be one of his sisters. Horror filled him for one too-fast moment as it occurred to him that Genesis lived with him, too.

Then rational thought returned. He knew where his sisters were for once—all three of them.

Gene stepped between her and the sight of the woman’s body. “They are all three with George’s family today, watching the kids while George takes Ronnie to the doctor. I dropped them off with Calvin this morning. They are all fine, honey. I promise. I don’t know who that is there—but she’s not one of my sisters.”

The forensics team got to work, minus Charlie’s daughter Charlotte, for obvious reasons.

Sheriff Addy’s wife was one of the forensic supervisors. She was efficient, damned good at her job, and sweet as cotton candy. He’d known her for years.

But it was strange to see his field turned into a crime scene.

“Once we figure out how long she’s been there, there will be questions,” Chantal’s brother said. “For you, and your brothers. Even your sisters. And mine.”

“Because of ease of access.” Gene understood it theoretically. But... he was a rancher, not a cop. “We fenced this section off months ago. Going to let it go for the next few years. Only ones that I know come through here at all are your sister and mine. They still walk along the fence line.”

“They’re going to have to take the damned car next time. Whoever did this... Chantal and Genesis would make damned easy targets.” And Charlie’s fury was hard to miss.

Of course it was.

Charlie’s sister... hell, all anyone had to do was look at her to see she wasn’t much of a threat. Gene’s hackles rose even thinking about that.

She and Genesis were out here all the time. Greer and Giavonna, too. Now there was a woman buried in his field. And someone had put her there. Gene wasn’t going to let them hurt anyone else he cared about.

He looked for Chantal, just to make certain she was okay now.

Hell, he did care about her. Gene would never be able to deny that. He doubted she realized that.

What had happened between them had probably destroyed that years ago.

It took far too long for Chantal’s peace of mind for the police to remove the woman’s body from the field. Everyone was asking her so many questions, it made her want to scream.

She didn’t do well with large crowds of people to begin with. This was a nightmare. But Charlie was there, and so was her brother’s daughter, Charlotte.

Charlie didn’t let anyone get too close or pushy with her. He’d told the men from Homicide and from Major Crimes to cool it when they got too intense. They hadn’t realized she was Charlie’s sister until then. That was all that had them backing off.

And… Gene.

Gene was there and was somehow always between her and the police. Not that he was doing it on purpose. Not Gene.

He wouldn’t protect her from anything. Not even a viciously poisonous spider. Not Gene. He despised her. One bad incident—that she hadn’t even caused—and he had treated her like dirt ever since.

Of course, mostly they just avoided each other now.

Finally, the rest of his family arrived. Gene, Grady, and Gunn lived on the family ranch. The Hiller Ranch was almost as big as the Barratt Ranch about forty-five miles north. Their property even bumped against the Barratt Ranch in a few places. They worked hard to make the Hiller Ranch one of the best in the state. Sometimes, the Hiller brothers came over and helped her father with whatever they needed done there on the much smaller Fields Ranch. And they paid her father a fair rent for the fields he couldn’t tend now, too. The money came in handy.

They had started off with more land than the Hillers, but through the generations, that had shifted. Now, she helped her father with the two hundred twenty acres Chantal’s father still possessed. They’d sold off all but three head of cattle years ago—enough for them to have beef each year, with some left over for Charlie and his little family. They’d buy three calves from the Hillers every year to keep it stocked.

Most of what they ran on the place was Angora goats and rabbits. Her mother had gotten involved in goat milk products years ago and still made soaps and things. When her father had gotten to the point where he didn’t want to ranch so heavily, he’d sold two-thirds of their land to the Hillers and invested more into her mother’s herd of goats.

Chantal had expanded that into Angora rabbits three years ago.

Then she had learned to weave and had found her true passion. Now, she took special commissions and sold other pieces online for what, to her, were exorbitant prices.

They didn’t make much, but combined, they had enough to pay the bills. Like her father had said, when he was gone, he wanted her and her mother to have a way to support themselves, so they could keep the ranch that meant so much.

To Chantal. Her brothers helped when they could, but ranching was not something Charlie or Chad were interested in doing at all.

But Chantal… she loved the ranch. And she would do whatever she had to do to keep it.

It was her home. Her legacy.

And someone had violated it now.

The body straddled the property line.

She was on both Hiller and Fields land. No one knew if she’d been buried there on purpose.

Finally, her brother and her niece were cleared to drive her home. Chantal wanted that more than words could ever say. Being interviewed by the police—even her brother’s friends—had drained every bit of reserve Chantal possessed.

By the time her brother drove her up the drive to her home, she was exhausted and felt slightly sick. She would eat, shower, and then go to bed.

Forget the last five hours had ever happened.

Her head had just hit the pillow when her phone rang. Genny.

Her best friend in the entire world. The one she had always poured her heart out to since they’d become adults. Genny was freaking.

A nurse at Barratt County Gen, Genny had been freaking over Chantal for six months now. She had been invaluable, though, while Chantal was figuring things out. “I just heard. Gene told us everything. Are you okay? How are your glucose levels?”

“I’m okay. I am a little shaky, but I think that was from the stress. What did Gene say?”

“Just went all silent and broody in that way of his. But the police are interviewing all of my brothers first thing in the morning. Gia and Greer and me, too.”

“Chad and Charlie, too. And Dad and Mom. And me again. We have to go to the Finley Creek post and talk to the man in Homicide.” She definitely hadn’t liked that guy at all. Something about the way he had looked at her.

Almost with madness in his eyes.

She shivered. She didn’t know how her older brother could deal with that kind of life, those kinds of things, every single day.

She'd been to the Finley Creek TSP before—the grand reopening after the tornado had destroyed the TSP building—Charlie had invited Chantal and her parents. They hadn't known Charlotte was in the building that day, or they would have met her, too. Chantal didn't quite understand how Charlie could have kept Charlotte away from their family for the entire time her niece had lived in Finley Creek until recently, but she was glad they'd finally gotten to meet her.

Charlotte was not quite two years younger than Chantal, and they looked more like sisters than niece and aunt. Chantal had found she liked her wickedly funny and somewhat dramatic niece a great deal. Charlotte had a kind heart—even if she was a bit afraid to show that sometimes.

Charlotte was right there in the TSP lobby, waiting for Chantal when she arrived with her parents. Charlotte came right to her. She suspected Charlotte found her easier to relate to—she feared rejection from Chantal less than she did rejection from her grandparents. Charlie really had done a number on his daughter by keeping her from them for four years. Chantal was still a little angry with him for that, but losing his son Jayden at seventeen had broken Charlie inside for a long while. Rory was helping him heal—Rory and their three-month-old twins.

"Are you feeling okay?" Charlotte whispered when Chantal's parents' backs were turned. Genny and Charlotte knew about her diagnosis. Charlotte had figured it out one day when they'd had lunch together at the Value Cafe.

She looked at Chantal with a pointed expression, and Chantal had found herself spilling immediately. "I'm good. Just... stress, I swear."

"Good. If this gets too annoying—use it. Get yourself out of it. Pops threw a fit with the chief and got his pick of investigators to do your interview and Grandma's and Grandpa's. No one really expects they did it, anyway. But you… I asked Rodriguez to speak to you personally.” Charlotte gave a wicked grin. "Well, I didn't think you'd mind getting interrogated by him. He promised to be gentle…”

Chantal looked at the big muscle-bound cop in question. Wow. That was one of the most gorgeous, perfect-looking men she had ever seen. She… rather liked the sound of that. She looked at her niece. “I’m in. I am so, so in. And is he single? He is every woman’s fantasy, isn’t he?”

“Better than that. Much, much better than that. He’s gorgeous, he’s smart, he’s kind, hard-working, and… well… how do you feel about a sexy single father kind of deal? He has three under five that he is raising all by himself…”

He looked right at Chantal and smiled, as if he knew what they were saying.

Wow. What a beautiful man. Oh, yeah—Chantal liked children just fine.

That was one seriously attractive man.