Page 5 of Fatal Deception

Audra tried not to sigh. “I do alright.”

“You do more than alright, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry. A friend’s prerogative.”

Audra managed a tight smile. “I appreciate it.”

Natalie made a kind of noise, as if she didn’t quite believe Audra. But she offered a goodbye and headed off the porch toward her truck in the gravel drive.

Audra wished she could let it go. Chalk it up to the normal ranch problems, but with everything going on… “Natalie, what was wrong with the fence? Like, what kind of damage was it?”

Natalie stopped, considered. “Well, I guess Norman didn’t say. Just that he’d taken care of it. Probably just some weather or some ornery cows.”

Audra nodded. Probably, but she’d find out tomorrow. Tonight, she just didn’t have it in her.

Except the idea of it being something more than accident or happenstance gnawed at her as Natalie gave a wave and walked all the way to her truck.

Audra picked up the bag and took it inside into the kitchen without taking off her coat or boots, even though she should have. She should sit down and eat something because she’d skipped lunch.

Instead, she turned around and walked right back outside. Only one line of the fence shared space with the Kirk Ranch. It was a bit of a walk, but Audra had to see it. She walked it until she found where the issue was, ignoring the cold and her growling stomach.

It had all been repaired—with better materials than she would have used because she couldn’taffordbetter materials.

She stood there in the fading light, just staring at the fixed fence, not getting any of the million things done that she needed to do.

And once the sun was down, the dark and cold steady around her, stars winking in a brilliant dazzle, she finally turned away from the fence and began the long walk home.

Since it was dark and there was no one around to hear or see, she cried the whole way.

But it didn’t make her feel any better.

COPELAND’S FIRSTORDERof business the next morning was to visit the cemetery that had been calling Audra. He’d tried calling them himself yesterday, but he’d been passed around to different managing entities. Never someone actuallyinSunrise who could get him some answers.

So he headed out to the small town and the old cemetery that felt like it belonged more in an old Western movie than in modern day.

He got out of his car and stepped into a bitterly cold morning. He surveyed the brown, desolate landscape in front of him dotted with graves, spreading out like a wave of death.

He didn’t like cemeteries. Who did? It wasn’t the dead. He’d dealt in death his entire professional career. That didn’t bother him any. Death was a mystery to be solved, and when he could look at it like that, it didn’t weigh quite so heavy.

Or at least it hadn’t, until it had come knocking at his door. And cemeteries in particular reminded him of the death of too many things. Not just lives, but his entire future. Everything he’d believed in, hoped for.

All the things he thought he’d be, swept away in one moment. No, it hadn’t even been one moment. Ethan getting killed in the line of duty had just been the domino that toppled over all therest. He liked to think he could have handled the death of his best friend. It was part and parcel of the job they’d both loved.

It was the betrayal his death had unearthed that had ruined everything.

He really hated being reminded of all that. Hence why he’d moved his ass out of Denver. Not to a new city. Not even to some bustling suburb. No, he parked himself somewhere that felt so opposite of his old life that he’d never be reminded of it.

Except there were just some things a guy couldn’t escapeallthe time. He moved forward through the graves and ghosts of who he’d been and headed for the little building he thought might house maintenance or records of some kind.

He didn’t quite make it. His gaze swept over the area and snagged on a little lump of dirt and snow. He could only assume it was a freshly dug grave, so he glanced at the name on the bright shiny stone.

He stopped on a dime.

Audra Gail Young.

Just like the urn.

It was strange how with the urn her name spelled out hadn’t struck him all wrong. It had been a puzzle, just like the woman in his office was. There had been a clear set of steps to follow. Track down who’d sent it and send the supposed remains inside to the state lab for testing. It was all just evidence, really.

But this felt…ominous. Threatening. Because when he stepped forward, it wasn’t just a name etched into stone. This had years on it, and he didn’t have to look it up to know that the birth date would match Audra’s. The date of death was listed without a month or a day. It was just given as a year.