Page 118 of Starting Over

Grayson threw his head back and laughed. Looking at my deputy he asked, “What about you?”

“I don’t mind riding, but what about the sheriff?”

Just then, I heard a small V-twin motor as one of Grayson’s hands drove over a Gator.

“Deputy, if you’d like to ride, I can drive the Gator with the sheriff,” Hudson offered.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

Grabbing the reins, Deputy Corbin Blackwater swung onto the horse with practiced ease, the leather creaking softly beneath his hands as he settled into the saddle. Almost as if he were born to it.

Shaking my head, I climbed into the Gator with Hudson, while Grayson swung up on his horse. Hudson led the way, since he was the only one of the four of us that knew exactly where we were going.

“How the fuck do you stay outside all goddamned day in the winter? It’s fucking cold out here.”

Hudson laughed at my rant. “Be thankful I grabbed the one with actual doors. Horses don’t have fucking doors and windows.”

It took forty-five minutes to get to where they found the body. I was half frozen when I stepped out. Emerson Powell stood guard over the woman as I approached.

“Any idea how long she’s been out here?”

Emerson looked at me, I could see the anguish in his eyes at finding the woman.

“I was out here two days ago, and she wasn’t. So I would say less than forty-eight hours.”

“Fuck.” Squatting down next to the body, I looked her over. She was young, maybe mid-twenties. Beneath the blood in her hair, it looked as though it was brown. “Any tracks?”

“None that are distinguishable. Because the cows roam this pasture, they have trampled everything. Including her,” Hudson explained.

“So, either the perp knew the cows would cover his tracks, or he just got lucky.”

“How do you know there’s a perp? Looks like she got trampled.”

I looked up at Emerson Powell. I knew he was young, probably close to the same age as the victim, but I didn’t think he was stupid.

“Is there another reason a woman would be traipsing through your fields in the middle of December buck ass naked?”

“No,” he responded, his eyes on the ground.

“She was running from someone,” I said, looking around the field. It was flat as far as the eye could see. My guess was she had escaped from somewhere, run for as long as she could and collapsed. Then been trampled by the cows. I only prayed the elements had killed her before the cows did.

The autopsy would give me cause of death, but I was guessing there wouldn’t be much evidence. Even if I did find the bastard that caused her to be out here, it was unlikely he actually killed her. The most I could get someone on was involuntary manslaughter. Maybe kidnapping and false imprisonment if I was lucky.

It was situations like this where the law failed victims. And in times like this, I didn’t let guilt plague me. If I found who was responsible for this woman’s death, I would let the Silver Shadows dole out the justice the law couldn’t.

Standing up, I looked at my cell phone.

Great. No service.

“We need to call everyone in. Get the M.E. out here to take her in.” Turning to Grayson, I asked, “Can you call the station, and tell Martha to send everyone out here, including Wallace? I need a couple of people to wait for the M.E. and my deputies and bring them out here. I’m gonna stay out here and look around to see if there is anything at all that will give me information on what I’m dealing with.”

“How much do you want me to tell Martha?”

“Tell her everything. She runs the station. She’ll know what my people need to bring with them.”

“We’ll take the horses back and leave you the Gator. Cell service out here sucks, so there are walkies in the Gator. They’re set to channel four. Let me know if you need anything. We’ll bring everyone out as they arrive.”

“The coroner will need to bring the van out here, unless you have something to transport her in?”