Page 19 of Killer on the Homestead (Bent County Protectors #2)
“It’s just a baseball game,” she muttered to herself. But just as she got downstairs, the front door opened and Audra stepped in.
Rosalie had been hoping to escape before Audra was done for the day. But there was no way around her sister, standing there in front of the door. “Hey,” she offered.
“Headed out?” Audra asked, innocently enough, nodding toward the purse Rosalie carried.
“Yeah.” Rosalie let the silence stretch out. Maybe Audra would hear it through the grapevine, maybe Rosalie would feel like talking about it after , but she was not about to let Audra think she was going out on a date with Duncan.
Because she wasn’t.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Audra said.
There was no point in denying it, and it was better than talking about Duncan. “Yep.”
“You can’t forever.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Rosalie.”
“I can’t talk about our parents tonight, sis,” she said brightly. “I’m going to the baseball game. You know…” It dawned on her, quick and perfect. “You and Franny should come.”
Audra’s eyes narrowed. “On your date with Duncan?”
“It’s not a date,” she immediately snapped. Then stopped short. “How did you know I was going with Duncan?”
For a moment, Audra stood there with a kind of surprised look on her face that Rosalie couldn’t figure out. Then Audra shook her head, but her cheeks were turning red. “Natalie mentioned it in passing,” she said with a shrug.
“Why are you acting guilty?”
Audra made a dismissive noise, then cocked her head. “Is that him?” She opened the door behind her, and there was Duncan’s truck bumping up the gravel lane.
Nerves seemed to full-on explode in Rosalie’s chest, and she didn’t know what the hell to do with that feeling. The only time she ever got nervous was when something at work went south, but even that she usually brazened her way through.
All of her brazenness wasn’t enough to get through Duncan Kirk. But she could do it, would do it, if she had company. Support. Distraction.
“Look, just because Duncan’s driving doesn’t mean you and Franny can’t come. It’s not a date. It’s just…a get-together. To support Sarabeth and our alma mater.”
“Franny didn’t go to Bent County, and I’ve got things to do. You’re going out, have fun.” Audra grabbed her by the arm and pulled her to the door. “And if you end up not coming home tonight, you just make sure to text me so I don’t worry.”
Rosalie had never been embarrassed about sex.
In fact, she liked to flaunt it in Audra’s face, because Audra was usually the one being a little prudish about it.
But this was…different. Why was everything about Duncan different?
“I am coming home tonight, Audra,” she said firmly. Because it was just a baseball game.
“Then you don’t have to text me. And we can have a nice long talk about our parents when you get back.”
She blinked at her sister. “Are you trying to blackmail me into having sex with Duncan?”
“If it helps.” Audra gave her a shove out the door as Duncan pulled to a stop. He got out of his truck, offered a wave with his good arm.
“Hi, Duncan,” Audra called with a return wave. “You two have fun. I won’t wait up.” Then she closed the front door behind her, and locked the door, as if Rosalie didn’t have her own key.
But there was no going back now, because Duncan was here.
Looking like he always did. Casual jeans, work boots that looked a little on the new side, a plain navy blue T-shirt, and a baseball cap, also plain.
No doubt because he didn’t want to draw attention to the fact he was Duncan Kirk, former professional baseball player.
She also noted he wasn’t wearing his sling.
“You got a doctor’s note?” she demanded, pointing at his arm, trying to determine if he was holding it more awkwardly than the other one.
“You going to tell on me?”
“Maybe.”
“Uncool.” But he grinned at her. “I’m allowed to take it off for a few hours a day. I’m taking my few hours. You ready to go?”
She nodded, hoping it didn’t come off as jerky as it felt. She moved in his direction, reminding herself it wasn’t a damn date. She climbed up into his truck. It still smelled like new, and that did nothing to ease these knots inside of her. Because it all felt new, when it damn well shouldn’t.
“I can drive if it’s bad on your arm.”
“I got it,” he replied easily, and he did seem to have it. He turned around and drove down the lane, then toward the highway without any winces that she could see as she studied his face, waiting for one.
“I brought your list of ranch hands with some added information,” he said, eyes on the road. “In the back seat, if you’re interested.”
She reached back and picked up the pieces of paper. She skimmed through the sloppily written additions. “Am I supposed to be able to read this chicken scratch?”
“Sorry. Bad arm. I can read it to you. Some of it is stuff I knew, some of it is stuff I got out of people today. But I just keep coming back to Owen and Hunter. The detectives haven’t come up with anything that ties Hunter’s former life to here, but there’s got to be something there, doesn’t there?
They were in trouble in North Dakota. There was no trouble here.
Then all the sudden, he’s dead. And Owen’s not. ”
“You suspect Owen?” Rosalie asked, surprised. She hadn’t thought he would.
“I don’t know. It just seems too much of a coincidence. I talked to Mom and Dad today, about Owen and Hunter. How they were lazy whiners when they first arrived, but slowly over time got a little less whiny. But still lazy.”
“Makes sense.”
“I guess. But Dad told me when he thought they kind of started to turn things around in the helpful department. And it seems weird as hell to me that their slight changes of heart coincide with the first cow’s death.”
Rosalie turned that over with everything she knew.
Did it connect? They had to look into everything, she supposed.
She thought about Owen that day when he’d yelled for help.
And after, when she’d questioned him. “He was genuinely grieving.” Though that didn’t mean anything, but she wanted to hear how Duncan would argue his theory.
“I think so too. But people can grieve things, even when they have something to do with the end result.”
Wasn’t that the truth? “Did Owen have a way of getting into your parents’ house?”
Duncan’s gaze slid to hers. “I’m not sure, but I’d bet he would. You heard from the cops about those guns?”
She shook her head. “No. Tests will take a few days, I imagine. They probably had to send them away. They’re still working on expanding their crime-scene-investigation unit, so not everything can be done in house, and then you gotta wait.”
“It doesn’t make sense to me that Owen would go through all that trouble, then have us find the body. Seems a stretch. But there’s just something about those two that doesn’t add up.”
Rosalie couldn’t help but agree. She read through Duncan’s sloppy notes again. “We’ll keep digging,” she said, as much to him as herself.
The truck came to a stop and Rosalie looked up. They were in the high-school parking lot.
Duncan shifted the truck into Park, then turned to face her. “All right. No more shop talk. Just baseball and hot dogs, Red.”
It was easy, she told herself. Just two people at a baseball game.
So she hopped out of the truck and walked with him toward the field.
A decent crowd for a high-school baseball game.
He bought the hot dogs from a bored-looking teen at the concession stand and they walked toward the bleachers to find a seat among the crowd.
“That’s the Sarabeth cheering section,” she said, pointing to about half of the bleachers.
She waved at Quinn as she led Duncan forward.
“There are six Thompson brothers, and one of them married Sarabeth’s mom.
The rest are all married and half of them are procreating.
Makes for quite a racket. Hope you’re ready. ”
“I played in Dodger Stadium, Rosalie.”
“Such a big shot.” She was going to rib him some more, but she spotted Sarabeth waving wildly. She pointed over to the dugout. “Your biggest fan has spotted you.”
Duncan turned, gave Sarabeth a wave. She beamed at him, clutching her glove to her chest.
“There’s no accounting for taste,” Rosalie muttered, but she was smiling in spite of herself, because… Oh, she was a big, dumb softy.
They found a place in the bleachers, and Duncan maneuvered himself in first. “Here. Sit on my right side.”
“Why?”
“So I can do this.” He casually rested his arm across her shoulders.
She should push it off.
But she didn’t. She settled in and watched Sarabeth pitch while the crowd went wild around them, and Duncan watched with avid interest. So much interest, she found herself watching him a little too much.
The way she could see the wheels in his head turning with every play, the way he got into it, whistling and cheering on Sarabeth just like her family was.
She felt it, deep inside, the slow, horrible unlocking of her heart. She would have tightened it up, added fifty more locks, thrown away every last key, if she thought it’d do any good.
But sitting next to him like this, watching him enjoy himself, it just felt inevitable.
Inevitable doom .