Page 31 of River Wild

“Have I caught you at a bad time?” the sheriff asked as he glanced down at AJ’s boots. Not black crocodile, but definitely expensive boots. Not buckaroo-style either, he noted. Not that it proved anything.

“Just going for a ride,” the rancher said cordially. “Want to join me? I could saddle up a horse for you.” Strikingly handsome, AJ’s smile transformed his face. It was no wonder he was considered a charmer—and the Powder River Basin’s most eligible bachelor at the moment. He and his wife, Faith, were separated, so he was considered available.

Twelve years ago, AJ would have been twenty-six, younger than Bailey was now. His father had died in a small plane accident when AJ was nine. He’d been raised by his grandfather, who was now in his early eighties.

“Thanks, but I don’t want to keep you,” Stuart said. “I’m sure you’ve heard about the murder.”

The smile disappeared in a heartbeat. AJ looked apologetic. “Of course. Hell of a thing. I don’t understand it. It had to be someone passing through town.”

That’s what everyone always wanted to believe. Couldn’t be anyone local.Couldn’t be one of us.“I’m asking ranchers along this stretch of county road if they have seen anyone or anything suspicious.”

AJ shook his head. “Truth is, I’ve been down in Wyoming for the past week. I just heard when I got back. Beautiful young woman. Damned shame.”

“You knew Willow?” he had to ask, even though it appeared AJ had an alibi for the time when she was assaulted and killed. “Date her?”

The rancher laughed. “She was too young for me, Sheriff.” He raked his left hand through his hair.

Stuart noticed he was wearing his wedding ring again. A few months ago, he’d seen him in town and noticed he wasn’t wearing it. The pale skin where it had been wasn’t quite as tanned as the rest of his finger. At the time, the sheriff had heard that AJ and Faith were separated and had been for a while.

“I just knew Willow to say hello on the street,” the rancher was saying. “I’d seen her a few times in the bar at the hotel.”

“With anyone in particular?”

AJ frowned. “Usually she was with a female friend, but there was one time... Only reason I remember was because I was surprised to see her with him.” He looked up, appearing to hate to tell on the dead woman. “She was with Treyton McKenna.” He nodded at Stuart’s surprise. “Surprised me too. Even more so because they seemed...” The sheriff waited, not wanting to put words into the man’s mouth. “Close.”

“Intimate?”

The rancher mugged a face. “Not exactly. But Treyton was definitely coming on to her, and she wasn’t shutting him down.”

“Thanks. I appreciate this.”

“I just want to see whoever did this caught and behind bars.”

As Stuart drove away, he thought about Bailey’s brother. Treyton wasn’t the man who’d attacked Bailey, but he might know something that could help find Willow’s killer if he’d been hanging around the hotel, flirting with her. The problem was that the sheriff didn’t have a good relationship with the obnoxious oldest son of Holden McKenna.

Still, he was anxious to talk to Treyton. Especially since he’d been wanting to see the property the man had bought recently out in the badlands away from town, away from the family ranch.

He’d been suspicious of Treyton for a long time, especially after discovering there had been a meth lab at one of the old homesteads that involved human trafficking. The lab was destroyed before Stuart could get any evidence against CJ Stafford. But the sheriff suspected he wasn’t the only local ranch offspring involved, and Treyton McKenna definitely fit the criminal profile.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

TREYTONMCKENNAHADbeen expecting a visitor since his last phone call from CJ Stafford. He regretted ever getting involved with the sick bastard. He’d thought that once CJ was behind bars, that would be the end of their so-called relationship. He’d been wrong.

At the sound of a vehicle coming up his road, he picked up the sawed-off shotgun he kept handy. He also had begun carrying a gun strapped to his ankle. The kind of men he dealt with on a daily basis made being armed a necessity.

But the kind of men he expected CJ would send to keep him in line would be the worst. His so-called partner in crime seemed to collect the lowest form of criminal, ones thirsty for blood.

He wasn’t surprised to see the panel van roar up into his yard. He’d bought this property some time ago. It was badlands country incapable of growing a damned thing. But it had been cheap, had a building on it that he’d made into a home of sorts, and was far enough out that he didn’t get visitors—normally.

The one time his father had paid him an unwelcome and unannounced visit, Holden had said he couldn’t understand how he could live like this after growing up on the McKenna Ranch with everything.

“I want to be my own man,” Treyton had said. “I can’t do that standing in your shadow.”

“You call this being your own man?” his father had demanded.

“I’m no longer under your roof or your thumb, so you damned betcha I do. Now get off my property, old man. You chose my brother over me a long time ago. You and I have nothing more to say to each other, so don’t come back.”

“I raised you and Cooper the same. Your problem with your brother is you, not him,” Holden said, glancing around. “I don’t know what you’re doing out here, but I’m sure it isn’t anything good.”

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