Shades of Twilight by Linda Howard Page A

experience of thirty years in law enforcement behind him, he turned to one of his deputies and said quietly, “Get one of the paramedics in here to see about the girl. She looks shocky.” He needed her lucid and responsive.
    The sheriff had known Lucinda for most of his life. The Davenports had always been hefty contributors to his campaign funds when election time rolled around. Politics being what they were, he’d done a lot of favors for the family over the years, but at the base of their longtime relationship was genuine liking. Marshall Davenport had been a tough, shrewd son of a bitch but a decent one. Booley had nothing but respect for Lucinda, for her inner toughness, her refusal to relax her standards in the face of modern decline, her business acumen. In the long years after David’s death, until Webb had become old enough to begin taking over some of the burden, she had run an empire, overseen a huge estate, and raised her two orphaned granddaughters. Granted, she’d had the benefit of immense wealth to smooth the way for her, but the emotional burden had been the same on her as it would have been on anyone else.
    Lucinda had lost too many loved ones, he thought. Both the Davenport and Tallant families had suffered untimely deaths, people taken too young. Lucinda’s beloved brother, the first Webb, had died in his forties after being kicked in the head by a bull. His son, Hunter, had died at the age of thirty-one when his small plane crashed in a violent thunderstorm in Tennessee. Marshall Davenport had been only sixty when he died from a burst appendix that he ignored, thinking it was just an intestinal upset, until the infection had become so massive his system couldn’t fight it off. Then both David and Janet, as well as David’s wife, had been killed in that car wreck ten years ago. That had nearly broken Lucinda, but she’d stiffened her spine and soldiered on.
    Now this; he didn’t know if she could bear up under this latest bereavement. She’d always adored Jessie, and the girl had been mighty popular in the elite society of Colbert County, though Booley himself had had his own reservations about her. Sometimes her expression had seemed cold, emotionless, like that of some of the killers he’d seen through the years. Not that he’d ever had any trouble with her, never been called on to cover up any minor scandals; whatever Jessie was really like, under the flirtatiousness and party manners, she’d kept her nose clean. Jessie and Webb had been the sparks in Luanda’s eyes, and the old girl had been nearly bursting a seam with pride when the two kids had gotten married a couple of years ago. Booley hated what he had to do; it was bad enough that she’d lost Jessie, without involving Webb, but it was his job. Politics or not, this couldn’t be swept under the carpet.
    A stocky paramedic, Turkey Maclnnis, entered the room and crossed to where Roanna was sitting, hunkering down in front of her. Turkey, so called because of his ability to imitate a turkey call without benefit of any gizmos, was both competent and soothing, one of the better paramedics in the county. Booley listened to the casual matter-of-fact voice as he asked the girl a few questions, assessing her responsiveness as he flicked a tiny penlight in her eyes, then took her blood pressure and counted her pulse. Roanna answered the questions in a flat, almost inaudible tone, her voice sounding strained and raw. She regarded the paramedic at her feet with a total lack of interest.
    A blanket was fetched and wrapped around her, and the paramedic urged her to lie down on the sofa. Then hebrought her a cup of coffee, which Booley guessed to be heavily sweetened, and cajoled her into drinking it.
    Booley sighed. Satisfied that Roanna was being taken care of, he couldn’t put off his onerous duty any longer. He rubbed the back of his head as he walked over to the small group on the other