Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
“Didn’t think so.” Duke turned to leave then paused and looked back at Logan. “How long of a kill shot have you made?”
Logan drew air into his lungs before answering. His longest shot had been too late. It had only stopped one of the suicide bombers. “Almost two miles.”
_______________
Duke poured another glass of whiskey. It helped ease the pain that accompanied long days and sleepless nights. A single light burned in his office, casting shadows on the drab room where he’d spent too much time over the past thirty years. He was ready to retire to a warmer climate. Had been for more than a year. Just him and his fishing pole. Maybe Mexico, where the señoritas were as warm as the sun.
A slow grin crept across his mouth. Logan Storm’s sudden appearance in Ennis was changing the landscape. For Skylar, and for him. He hadn’t wanted to leave Ennis until Skylar and her bothers were settled, but Logan’s arrival would help speed that up. It was obvious to anyone who looked at the man, his entire focus was on Skylar. And that focus would grow into a lifetime of happiness for both of them. But happiness required a job. A job he was suited for. A job that required carrying a gun.
His grin widened. He’d found his replacement as chief of police, and someone who would protect Daniel James’s family, all in the same person. Mexico wasn’t a pipedream anymore.
Raising his glass in a celebratory toast, Duke sighed when his cell phone began to ring in his hip pocket. He cursed, placing the tumbler on the desk before pulling out his phone and looking at the number. His brows pulled tight across his forehead when he saw K & L Mortuaries light up his screen.
“This is Duke.”
“Chief, this is Frank Wells.” He’d whispered his reply, which caused Duke to sit up straight.
“What’s going on, Frank?”
Duke rose from his seat and automatically checked his weapon and began to head for his door.
“It’s policy, Duke. We have to list cause of death on the death certificate. If we suspect the cause doesn’t match the circumstances, we put unknown and call for an autopsy.”
“I know this, Frank, so why don’t you tell me why you’re calling me at one in the morning to explain procedure.”
Duke had quickened his pace. His gut told him he wouldn’t get to bed any time soon.
“Justice Bear, Duke. Chance said he died in his sleep, but I found bruising around his neck.”
Fuck. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as I can be. I’m not a coroner, Duke, so I could be wrong. I was going to talk to you about it in the morning before I called for the coroner, but we’re out of time. You need to contact the sheriff and get his people to take a look before Chance gets a court order to release the body tomorrow.”
“Are you telling me he knows you found something?”
“I had to tell him. He woke me up and demanded his father’s body. Said he has to burn it on his property within twenty-four hours because it’s the way of his people.”
Duke’s heart was thundering with the implications. “Flatheads don’t cremate, Frank.”
“No shit, Duke, why do you think I’m calling you. He was here less than five minutes ago acting like a raving lunatic.”
“Christ. Lock yourself in,” Duke ordered, as he pushed through the door and hit the street at a run, climbing into his truck. “I’m coming to you.”
He hung up then paused for half a second. He could hear music still coming from Big Sky Saloon and considered going back for Logan, but he kept on his course. He knew Chance. He didn’t like to lose any more than his father did. If he killed Justice, he would stop at nothing to cover it up, which meant he’d strike immediately. Duke had no time to waste.
Less than two minutes later, Duke rounded the front of K & L Mortuary and found it dark on the inside. He scanned the area before exiting his vehicle. Chance’s telltale rig, with its Bear Claw insignia on the side, wasn’t in sight. Pulling his weapon out, Duke headed to the side entrance, pounded on the door. When Frank didn’t answer he tried the knob, found it unlocked. Cursing under his breath, Duke pulled a flashlight from his belt and opened the door slowly. He positioned the flashlight under his firearm and shined it down the corridor, sweeping the area for danger, and saw a foot sticking out from a doorway.
“Jesus. Jesus H. Christ,” Duke growled, entering the building quickly, swinging his weapon back and forth as he made his way to Frank. When he flicked on the overhead light, Duke stalled briefly at the sight of blood pouring from the back of Frank’s head. He kneeled to check his pulse, keeping his eyes peeled and his gun at the ready for an attack. Frank’s pulse was weak but there, thank Christ.