him, pressed a hand to her soft, trembling mouth.
Ben swore softly. “It looks bad. You and the kids need to be careful, Colby. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it.”
Ignoring his outstretched hand, Colby jumped down from the rock and paced away from him, swiping at the tears running unchecked down her face. “Who would do something like this to him, Ben? He was in his seventies. He couldn’t hurt a fly. He didn’t have any money. Why would someone do this?”
“Go home, honey, let me take care of this. You need to be with the kids.” Ben was suppressing his own anger. This hit far too close to home. Someone had murdered Pete, there was no denying the fact. Ben had examined every inch of the cliff. Someone had been up there all right, and they’d started a small rockslide to make it look as if Pete had slipped over the edge, but he lay right where he had been killed. Ben would have staked his reputation on it. Colby was a good tracker and she was right about Pete going to his knees before he fell backwards.
Ben had examined the old man’s fingernails. There wasn’t a speck of dirt to indicate Pete had clawed at the mountainside if he had slipped. And the patterns of blood splatters just weren’t consistent with Pete falling and hitting his head. The body had been torn up by the birds, which didn’t help the crime scene, but Ben had found other disturbing lacerations on Pete’s body that he hadn’t discussed with Colby. There were teeth marks—human bite marks—as if someone had tried to cannibalize the body after Pete was dead. He was certain the bites were made after death. It was bizarre and terrifying when they rarely had major crime in their area. Colby had to have seen those disturbing bites, but he wasn’t going to force her to admit it. Ben swore again as he glanced at Colby’s small figure. “Go home, honey, I’ll call you when I know more.”
Colby nodded, suddenly shivering. What had Tony Harris and the other ranch hand really been doing on her property? What were Everett’s rider and one of the Chevez brothers doing so far from the homestead? Had one of her neighbors actually murdered Pete? Who would benefit from such brutality? She shoved a hand through her hair, dreading telling Ginny and Paul.
“Colby, you can’t do anything more for him. Go on home. You’re just torturing yourself by sticking around.” Ben was adamant. “It will be a few days before the body is released. I promise I’ll call you and help with the arrangements. In the meantime, stick close to the house—no more riding around in the middle of nowhere by yourself.”
Colby nodded slowly, turning heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Ben was right, she couldn’t bring Pete back and there was no sense in putting off telling the kids. Paul probably already knew; he had a scanner. He would have seen the sheriff and his crew coming onto the ranch. She swung into the saddle and resolutely started home.
Deep beneath the earth, locked in the rich soil, Rafael lay helpless to comfort her. The blood tie ensured he could touch her mind and know her thoughts at will. She needed him, needed him to hold her, to comfort her. She was trying to be very brave for her brother and sister. She was weeping. Deep within her heart, in her soul, she was weeping. Her sorrow was so strong it had penetrated his rejuvenating sleep, waking him to share her suffering. His chest hurt, the weight of her anguish pressing like a heavy stone into his heart. He ached for her, ached to hold her, comfort her.
It was a singular experience for him to feel for another being. Real emotion. He had forgotten the feeling. It humbled him to think of her and her lone fight to keep her word to her stepfather. She was alone and afraid. She was fighting an unseen enemy. She didn’t know what they wanted, or why they were attacking her, but she was valiantly ready to defend her ranch and her beloved brother and sister. Rafael
Ben swore softly. “It looks bad. You and the kids need to be careful, Colby. I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it.”
Ignoring his outstretched hand, Colby jumped down from the rock and paced away from him, swiping at the tears running unchecked down her face. “Who would do something like this to him, Ben? He was in his seventies. He couldn’t hurt a fly. He didn’t have any money. Why would someone do this?”
“Go home, honey, let me take care of this. You need to be with the kids.” Ben was suppressing his own anger. This hit far too close to home. Someone had murdered Pete, there was no denying the fact. Ben had examined every inch of the cliff. Someone had been up there all right, and they’d started a small rockslide to make it look as if Pete had slipped over the edge, but he lay right where he had been killed. Ben would have staked his reputation on it. Colby was a good tracker and she was right about Pete going to his knees before he fell backwards.
Ben had examined the old man’s fingernails. There wasn’t a speck of dirt to indicate Pete had clawed at the mountainside if he had slipped. And the patterns of blood splatters just weren’t consistent with Pete falling and hitting his head. The body had been torn up by the birds, which didn’t help the crime scene, but Ben had found other disturbing lacerations on Pete’s body that he hadn’t discussed with Colby. There were teeth marks—human bite marks—as if someone had tried to cannibalize the body after Pete was dead. He was certain the bites were made after death. It was bizarre and terrifying when they rarely had major crime in their area. Colby had to have seen those disturbing bites, but he wasn’t going to force her to admit it. Ben swore again as he glanced at Colby’s small figure. “Go home, honey, I’ll call you when I know more.”
Colby nodded, suddenly shivering. What had Tony Harris and the other ranch hand really been doing on her property? What were Everett’s rider and one of the Chevez brothers doing so far from the homestead? Had one of her neighbors actually murdered Pete? Who would benefit from such brutality? She shoved a hand through her hair, dreading telling Ginny and Paul.
“Colby, you can’t do anything more for him. Go on home. You’re just torturing yourself by sticking around.” Ben was adamant. “It will be a few days before the body is released. I promise I’ll call you and help with the arrangements. In the meantime, stick close to the house—no more riding around in the middle of nowhere by yourself.”
Colby nodded slowly, turning heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Ben was right, she couldn’t bring Pete back and there was no sense in putting off telling the kids. Paul probably already knew; he had a scanner. He would have seen the sheriff and his crew coming onto the ranch. She swung into the saddle and resolutely started home.
Deep beneath the earth, locked in the rich soil, Rafael lay helpless to comfort her. The blood tie ensured he could touch her mind and know her thoughts at will. She needed him, needed him to hold her, to comfort her. She was trying to be very brave for her brother and sister. She was weeping. Deep within her heart, in her soul, she was weeping. Her sorrow was so strong it had penetrated his rejuvenating sleep, waking him to share her suffering. His chest hurt, the weight of her anguish pressing like a heavy stone into his heart. He ached for her, ached to hold her, comfort her.
It was a singular experience for him to feel for another being. Real emotion. He had forgotten the feeling. It humbled him to think of her and her lone fight to keep her word to her stepfather. She was alone and afraid. She was fighting an unseen enemy. She didn’t know what they wanted, or why they were attacking her, but she was valiantly ready to defend her ranch and her beloved brother and sister. Rafael
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