Page 9 of Flawed

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Sadie still hasn’t said a word. She leans against the porch railing, forgoing a seat.

Chance settles on the opposite end of the railing, resting his hip against the post, while Austin takes the vacant seat.

I take the opportunity to stand beside Sadie so it’s easy to see everyone. And to pick up her floral scent, which dredges up memories of the night before.

“Any idea who the victim is?” I ask Sadie.

Her gaze holds mine for a moment and then she blinks. “None yet. The body was sent to the coroner in Missoula.”

“Do you have an idea who it might be?” Peterson asks. “You three were at the creek the day before the body was found.”

I look away from Sadie and to the jerk who not-so-subtly insinuates we killed a man.

“We went over this already with you, Officer,” Chance says through clenched teeth.

“Detective,” Peterson corrects. “You could have killed the man and no one would have found him for weeks. Months, if ever. That stretch of creek is pretty isolated.”

I frown at the absurdity. “And like we said last night,whywould we kill the guy, dump him in the creek, and then break up the beaver dam so the water would go down and he’d be discovered? I’m no detective, Detective, but that makes zero sense.”

I don’t like this fucker any more today than I did last night.

“My woman found the body.” Austin’s voice is deep, almost a growl. “Tripped over it. You think I’d subject her to something like that?”

Austin and Carly have gotten close fast. I like her. She seems to be coming into herself with him. Seems to be in his nature to take care of people, like he does for his mom.

“We’re reviewing the employees of the ranch, ruling them out one by one,” Sadie says.

Her voice is soft and almost velvety. Just as I remember.

“We’re more interested in your father because, well…he’s dead. We can’t interview a dead man,” she adds.

Chance stands. “My father’s lawyer is Tom Shankle. Talk to him.”

“We want to hear about him from you,” Peterson replies.

Chance turns, sets his hands on his hips. “If I were going to commit murder, I’d have done it already.” He holds up his hand. “And no, it wouldn’t have been the man in the creek. I’d have killed my father. And I’d have been justified in doing so.”

“Sounds like you’re telling me you have violent thoughts,” Peterson pushes.

“About Jonathan Bridger. That’s all I’ve got left when it comes to him. If you want to put this murder on me, you’re wasting your time, but have at it.” Chance removes his hat, swipes a hand over his hair, and sets it back on his head. “Got work to do.”

He walks off and I can’t help but grin. Yeah, he has big fucking balls since he pretty much gave the lead detective the middle finger.

I glance at Sadie, who has her lower lip gripped between her teeth. Speaking of giving someone the finger…

Austin stands. “Anything else?”

Peterson rises, adjusts his belt. “That’s all. For now.” He sets off toward the sheriff SUV parked in the driveway.

Austin nods to Sadie, and heads inside, the oversized entry door clicking shut behind him.

I turn to face Sadie full-on, tuck my thumbs in my jeans pocket so I don’t reach out and touch her.

“MilesBridger.I didn’t know who you were.” She rubs her hands over her jean-clad thighs. “What are the odds I’d pickyou?God, I should’ve just gone with one of the farmers.”

Hell, no. A fucking farmer?

“You look angry.” She rakes her gaze over my face and settles on my mouth.


Tags: Helen Hardt Romance