Page 22 of Ambush

They went through the same procedure with the woman but with much less success. Finding the man would have to be the focus.

Chapter 11

Teenagers and adults playing volleyball spilled across the yard suffering from the drought. On the right side of Rod and Sheila McShea’s house, smaller children played in a sandbox next to a swing set. Blake stayed close to Paradise as they walked toward the group of adults gathered around the smoker and grill. A lavish spread of food covered a long folding table, and outdoor chairs sat ready for use. The smoker vied with the scent of fresh-cut grass for dominance.

“Steady,” he whispered to her as they approached. “Just smile and stay close. I can start the conversation until you feel more comfortable.”

The scent of her hair, that sweet plumeria fragrance, made him want to move closer, but he checked the impulse. She was skittish enough without him making her feel cornered. His fingers on her elbow guided her toward Rod. Some chatter about the incidents at the refuge might help put her at ease. If there was one thing Paradise hated, it was conversations that got too personal. She’d been that way as long as he’d known her.

He’d known the McShea family all his life. Small-town life was like that. He lifted his hand in greeting when Rod spotted him.

Rod glanced from him to Paradise and his eyes widened. “Paradise.” He put down the tongs and wiped his hands on the towel hanging from his belt before heading to greet them. He enfolded her in a bear hug. “What’s it been? Fifteen years? You’re as pretty as ever.”

Yearning glinted in her eyes. “Something like that.” She stepped back and moved closer to Blake. “You look great, Rod.”

“Thanks.” He turned and gestured. “You could mosey over and say hi to Mom. She’s here somewhere.”

Paradise’s smile slipped a little. “I’m sure I’ll run into her shortly. I think Blake wanted to talk to you, and I’ll hang around for now.”

Blake recognized his cue to steer the conversation away from the personal family direction it had taken. “We were both wondering if any new evidence has turned up on the shooting or the fire? And do you know yet how Danielle Mason died?” The activist had been at the top of his concerns.

Rod’s smile vanished, and he was all cop. “We found a little blood evidence in some trees outside the paddock of Dillard Ranch, probably when she was loaded into the trailer. I’m working through alibis now and trying to find the murder site itself.”

Rod was known for being open with his constituents, and this was the first murder in the area in years. He hadn’t revealed anything a ranch employee didn’t know as forensics combed over the area.

“And the shooting?”

“I personally talked to the group of activists camping out near the swamp. They claimed they were trying to free the animals, but no one would tell me who had the gun. They admitted theyfired the shots though. The sketch you two did of the man was recognized right off, but he was long gone by the time we interviewed everyone. Neither of you could identify the woman, so that was a wash. I told them to leave the area or I’d arrest the whole lot of them. Not that I have anywhere to house that many.” His frown deepened. “But they packed up and headed out of town.”

“What about the Mason woman’s death? One of them might have been responsible,” Paradise put in.

“Maybe. I got addresses and phone numbers from all of them before they skedaddled, and I’ll follow up. I wanted to avert any further incidents by disbanding them. They seem to be a menace when they’re together.”

Blake supposed they couldn’t stay around forever, and if the department had no evidence, Rod couldn’t order them to stay anyway. “What did the Dillards have to say about the murder?”

His dad had been friends with old man Dillard years ago, and the older rancher had always been kind to him. And violence from the family wasn’t something he could envision. His wife, Stacy, had been Blake’s babysitter on occasion when he was growing up. Still, the ranch employed five hands, some of whom were newcomers to the area.

Rod’s mouth twisted. “About what you’d expect. They had no idea the body was in the trailer with the horse. They didn’t see it.”

“How could they load the horse and not see it?”

“Dillard said they loaded the animal first and left the trailer unattended for about half an hour. He thinks someone put the body in during that time.”

The sick horse likely wouldn’t have been any trouble to someone stashing the body in the trailer. “But why put it there where it would be found right away? I don’t get it.”

“I don’t either,” Rod said. “Maybe whoever killed her wanted to throw suspicion on you. Rumors in a small town can destroy a business.”

Blake knew that only too well. Their earnings were already suffering. “Or it was a threatening gesture to us maybe.”

“Possible.”

“And the fire? Any idea who set it?” Paradise asked.

Rod glanced at her before turning back to his smoker for a moment to check the temperature. “The group at the campsite all claim it wasn’t them, and I’m inclined to believe them.”

It wasn’t much, but at least Rod didn’t seem to be hiding anything. Blake glanced at Paradise. Should he ask about her parents’ murders? She might not be ready to ask yet.

Her amber eyes darkened with intensity, and she gave him a slight shake of her head before she took a step toward her cousin. “I’d like to see the evidence gathered from the murder of my parents. I could examine it in a conference room or something so you don’t have to make copies.”

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