Twice A Target (Task Force Eagle) by Susan Vaughan Read Free Book Online Page A

Chris.
    “Maybe you can’t, but I’m still not sure. Some
hunter shootin’ off too fast.”
    The sheriff was being cautious about treading on local
toes, Holt reckoned. Especially those of hunters. Clamping down on out-of-state
hunters could raise the ire of county businesses that catered to them.
    Holt’s outward shell of calm was chipping away. “Come
off it, Jarvis. Someone sat in that stand of trees opposite the precipice and
waited to blow out Rob’s tires. Someone deliberately killed my brother and his
wife. That was no accident. It was murder.”
    “Would a hunter have used this caliber?” Chris tossed
the file onto the desk.
    The sheriff gave a noncommittal wag of his head. “No
one around here has a high-tech rifle like that.” He laughed. “Who knows what
some of these rich tourists have?”
    “Some guy could’ve seen a bear and been waiting for
him to return. Maybe he sighted the critter at the same time Rob came by,”
Rafferty said.
    Holt’s patience with these damn-fool suggestions
shrank to a nub. He fired out of his seat. “Unlikely. And it’s not hunting
season.”
    “Exactly why someone might keep it to himself.” Foley
held up a hand to stay Holt’s impending explosion. “I’m not sayin’ it couldn’t be murder. It’s my duty to bring the perpetrator to justice whether it’s an
accident or murder. I want to be sure is all.”
    “You taking it slow on purpose, Sheriff? Biding time
until your retirement next fall?”
    Defensiveness flickered across Foley’s lined features before
indulgence replaced it. “Now, Holt, you know better’n that. All cases will have
serious attention until my last day. Besides, I’m not too sure about
retirement. What would I do with my time?”
    Rafferty’s brooding attention veered from Chris to
Holt. “Right after the crash, we checked the whereabouts of practically
everyone in town. Me and the other deputies interviewed the guests at the
Circle-S and the wranglers on every spread around. Only ones we didn’t get were
a few drifters who’d moved on.”
    “We came up empty,” Foley said. “All the logical
suspects had alibis.” His boots slammed to the floor. He straightened in his
chair, the politician’s easy smile transformed to a determined glare. “Now that
we have this report, we’ll go over everything all over again.”
    “Damn right. You missed something.” Holt stopped
stalking and gripped the back of the wooden chair. His gut churned. “Because
someone who knew what he was doing—the killer—arrived ahead of my brother’s old
pickup on that winding mountain shortcut. He waited in hiding, maybe for hours.
He blew out the truck’s tires at just the right angle and time to send them
over the cliff to their death.”
    Chris Hawke fingered his amulet with a thoughtful
expression on his face. “Suppose it was murder. What possible motive could
someone have to kill Rob Donovan? Or Sara?”
    “Exactly why I think it must have been an accident,”
the sheriff said. “Everyone liked Rob. You couldn’t find a nicer guy. Why he’d
do anything for you, give you the shirt off his back. And Sara was a sweet kid,
a new mother. Who would harm either one of them? Who would want them dead?”
    No one could care as much about solving this case as
Holt did. With most of the county’s cases involving drunk drivers, domestic
disputes, and kids sowing wild oats, the sheriff’s department didn’t have much
experience with homicides. “Exactly what I propose to find out, Sheriff, if you
won’t. Or can’t.”
    “Too bad the Legal Eagle here can’t help you find the
killer’s tracks.” Rafferty’s smile was as thin as splintered wood. “Thought you
people were great hunters and trackers.”
    Chris moved to stand beside his client. “My ancestors,
yeah, Rafferty. Just like yours used to be straight-shooters.”
    The deputy tensed, ready to escalate the
confrontation. A cough from the sheriff broke the strain. Rafferty subsided.
    Chris