Page 15 of Outlaw Ridge: Reed (Hard Justice: Outlaw Ridge #6)

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Hallie hadn’t wanted to stop her search of her mother’s storage unit, but it was obvious she was needed elsewhere. So, Reed and she locked up and used the keypad to change the code so that Luther wouldn’t be able to get back in.

And now they were heading to a ranch on Dearborn Road.

It was on the outskirts of Outlaw Ridge where apparently the owner, an elderly, widowed rancher, Helen Robey, had caught Corman trespassing and was now holding him at gunpoint.

Jesse and Shaw were already responding to the scene and would make it there ahead of Reed and her, but Hallie very much wanted to hear what Corman had to say for himself.

As they sped toward the ranch, Hallie’s mind raced with all kinds of questions about Corman. Why had he been at Helen Robey’s property? Was Helen going to be his next victim? If so, then it appeared that Helen had stopped that from happening if she had the man at gunpoint.

Reed took a turn right before they reached the sign for Outlaw Ridge, and he drove about a half mile before she spotted the small house surrounded by acres of pasture. There was a car parked off the end of the road, just out of sight in a cluster of trees.

“The car is registered to Corman,” she said, doing a quick check.

So, he’d parked here and walked, or rather skulked his way to the house. That definitely looked suspicious.

Reed went closer to the house, parking behind Jesse and Shaw’s cruiser, and she immediately spotted both deputies. And the silver-haired woman with a shotgun pointed at Corman.

“Mrs. Robey, you really got to put down that gun,” Hallie heard Jesse say, and judging from his tone, it wasn’t the first time he’d issued that order.

Helen stood firm, her eyes locked on Corman, who was on his knees in the yard with his hands raised.

Reed approached the woman with caution, putting up his own hands to show her that he hadn’t drawn his gun.

Hallie kept her attention on Corman, searching his face for any signs of fear.

But the only emotion she saw was anger. He was like a pressure cooker ready to go off.

“Is Corman armed?” Hallie whispered to Jesse.

“He was. I took a Colt off him,” Jesse replied just as Corman snapped, “I got a permit for that, and I want it back.”

That wouldn’t be happening any time soon, and for now, they had a situation to diffuse.

“Please give me the gun,” Reed told the woman. “We can take things from here.”

Helen finally tore her gaze from Corman and looked at Reed. “Hell, boy, I wasn’t actually going to shoot his sorry ass.”

“I understand,” Reed said, his voice and body language calm as if this were an ordinary event on an ordinary day. “The gun, please.”

On a huff, Helen lowered the shotgun, pointing the barrel toward the ground and then handed it to Reed.

Hallie let out the breath that had clogged in her throat.

Even though the woman’s intentions might not have been to shoot anyone, that didn’t mean it was safe for her to be holding anyone at gunpoint.

“Tell us exactly what happened, Mrs. Robey,” Hallie prompted.

The woman flung her now empty hand at Corman who was slowly getting to his feet.

“I heard my rooster squawking, and I looked out the window and saw this idiot snooping around my house. Figured he was here to rob me or something so I went and got my shotgun. He tried to run when I stepped out the front door and took aim at him, but I convinced him real quick to get down and wait while I called the cops. Didn’t want his sorry ass gettin’ away, did I? ”

“No,” Hallie agreed, and while she couldn’t endorse what Helen had done, she was glad Corman hadn’t been able to leave.

“Do you know this man?” Hallie asked her.

“Never seen him before in my life,” she answered. “Is he that killer everybody’s gossiping about?”

Possibly. But Hallie kept that to herself and looked at Corman. She also read him his rights, which didn’t do anything to improve his mood.

“Well?” she asked when she was finished with the Miranda Warning. “Why are you here?”

Corman swallowed hard, his pinched gaze flicking between Hallie and Reed. “I got a note…it said to come here to this address if I wanted to learn the truth about my sister’s murder, and as you know, the truth is in short supply.”

Hallie ignored the dig and went with another question. “Where’s the note and who sent it?”

“It’s in my pocket. And I don’t know who sent it. Somebody left it on my windshield,” Corman snarled. “It was anonymous, but I had to follow up. I have to find out what happened to my sister since it’s obvious you two fuckers don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t you dare use that language around me,” Helen barked.

Reed stepped up, addressing Helen before things could escalate again. “Thank you for detaining him, Mrs. Robey, but we need to take it from here. Why don’t you go inside, and one of these deputies will take your statement?”

Helen hesitated but nodded after a couple of seconds. “You better get to the bottom of this,” she warned, but the warning was all for Corman. Then, she shifted her attention to Jesse. “You can take my statement but no cussing like he did. I don’t abide by that f-word.”

“Understood,” Jesse said, and he flashed her a smile that Hallie was certain had charmed many women. It clearly worked on Helen because she smiled, too, as she led Jesse into her house.

Reed set the shotgun aside and went closer to Hallie. “Why don’t we move this conversation to the station?”

His long, slow glance around them reminded her that being outside, especially without a Kevlar vest, wasn’t the smart thing for any of them right now. Hallie nodded.

“You want me to take a look at Corman’s car?” Shaw asked.

Hallie shifted her attention back to Corman. “Do we need to get a warrant for that, or will you cooperate with a search?”

Scowling, Corman yanked his keys from his pocket and handed them to Shaw. “Search it. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

Considering how fast Corman had agreed to that, there probably wasn’t anything incriminating in the vehicle, but Shaw might find something.

“All right,” Hallie said to Corman, motioning for him to follow Reed and her. “Let’s go to the station for an interview and so you can be charged with trespassing. For now, let’s see the note.”

Corman yanked it from his front jeans pocket and thrust it at her as he got into the back seat of the cruiser. Hallie got in as well, read it and passed it to Reed once he was behind the wheel. The note was exactly as Corman had said it was, but that didn’t mean it was the truth.

“Satisfied?” Corman snarled.

“Not especially,” she snarled back. “I understand you’ve already seen these photos, but I want you to take another look at them.”

Before she’d gotten out the last word, Reed had already taken out his phone and was pulling up the pictures.

“Let’s talk about these,” Hallie insisted, holding them up for Corman to see. His eyes flickered with recognition, but he kept up the steely expression. “Talk,” she ordered.

Corman folded his arms over his chest and stared out the window, the stance of a school kid pout. “That dick reporter. He’d been sucked in by your mother.”

Probably, but Hallie didn’t address it. “Tell me about the photos.”

“Like I told the dick reporter, I don’t remember them.”

Hallie pinned him with a flat look. “Withholding evidence is a crime, and right now, as we speak techs are analyzing these pictures for any and all details. So, it would benefit you to tell us what you know.”

Corman stayed quiet for a couple more moments before he huffed. “I think they were taken about fifteen years ago,” he finally said. “It was a barbeque my sister wanted me to attend with her. I don’t recall who hosted the party, the picture being taken or Kip being there, all right?”

Reed turned in the seat and stared at Corman. “That’s a lot not to remember, especially when you barely glanced at the pictures and didn’t give them much thought.”

“I don’t need to look or think harder about it. I was just there because my sister dragged me along. I didn’t know anyone else there, and I sure as hell don’t recall Kip. If I had, I would have said something at the trial.”

Hallie exchanged a glance with Reed, who sighed. “Why don’t you take another look at the pictures?” Reed prompted. “Maybe you’ll see something that will jog your memory.”

After another long hesitation, Corman did look again, his gaze settling on the image of his sister. Something went through his eyes. Something that Hallie couldn’t interpret.

Guilt maybe?

“Are those pictures the reason my sister was murdered?” Corman came out and asked.

A great question, but Hallie didn’t have the answer. “Are you sure you don’t recognize anyone else in the photos?” she pressed as Reed turned on the engine and started the drive back to the station.

Something else seemed to shift in Corman’s expression, and she saw a hint of that grief again. But Hallie reminded herself that Corman could be feeling that particular emotion because he might have been the one who’d murdered Elenore.

“I seem to recall my sister mentioning someone named Teddy at the party,” Corman muttered. “She was dating him or else wanted to date him. I don’t think things worked out between them though because when we left the party, she was pissed.”

“Do you remember about what?” Hallie asked.

Corman shook his head, and a muscle flickered and clenched in his jaw.

“But unless those techs you mentioned are totally useless, they could find out who else is in those pictures. You could figure out if someone at that party killed her. Unless you don’t want the truth to come out because it’ll prove you’re guilty. ”

She rolled her eyes at his one-note slams and turned back around in the seat. They might be able to get more from Corman once he was in the interview room, but Hallie figured there was no chance whatsoever that he’d tell them anything that might incriminate himself.

Hallie texted the name “Teddy” to the Strike Force lab in case they could use it to match it to one of the people in the background of the photos. It was too general of a name to try to search the databases, so facial recognition might get them some answers soon.

Her phone rang, the number flashing on the dash, and Hallie frowned when she saw it was the prison where her father was incarcerated. Reed obviously saw it, too.

“They call you often?” Reed asked under his breath.

She shook her head. “Never.” With a deep breath, she answered, bracing herself for the news. “This is Sheriff McQueen.”

“Sheriff, I’m Jacob Sanchez, a correctional administrator here at Holbrooke,” the voice on the other end of the line said. “I regret to inform you, but your father has been murdered.”

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