“I’m going to need to know, Bridger. Did your father have any dealings with Joseph Hopkins?” His question is aimed my way, lobbed like a grenade.
“Like I’d know!” I snap. “How many times do I have to tell you? I never even met the bastard.”
“What’s going on here?”
I turn to see my half brother, barrel-chested and huge, join us. He has his usual pissed-off look on his face and it’s well aimed at Peterson.
“Bridger,” Peterson says.
“Detective.” Chance waves to Jed and jiggles his empty glass.
“I was just telling Miles and Sadie here that we got the ID on the body at your place.”
Jed hands Chance a refill on his tonic water, and Chance takes a sip. He glances at me and then at Sadie, who’s in my arms. If he’s surprised to see her in my embrace, he doesn’t show it.
“Don’t keep me in suspense,” Chance says.
“It’s Joseph Hopkins. Sadie’s brother.” Peterson darts arrows at Chance with his eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that?”
Chance looks to Sadie, his face softening. “Shit, sweetheart. I’m real sorry to hear that.” Then he glances back at Peterson, all kindness stripped away. “We’ve been over this before. I don’t like what you’re insinuating—that I had anything to do with it, a relation of Sadie’s or not.” Chance gulps down the rest of his tonic.
I don’t like what Peterson’s laying down either. Chance may be a giant pain in my ass but he’s a good man. A damned good man. There’s no way he’d kill someone.
Sadie is still glommed onto me, and I have to admit, she feels damned good in my arms. I like comforting her, when we’re not pissed at each other for stupid shit. But this? Her missing brother dead on our land? That’s not stupid shit. It’s a big fucking deal, and one hell of a coincidence.
Damn, the feelings she’s bringing out in me… It’s disturbing…and I like it. I like it a lot. She didn’t tell me a lot about her brother, just that he was ten years older and they weren’t close. That she hadn’t seen him in years.
“Like it or not,” Peterson goes on, “that body was found on your property. It will be investigated to the fullest extent of the law. Sadie’s brother deserves justice.”
“How do you know—” I stop abruptly.
I was about to ask whether Joseph Hopkins might have taken his own life. Glad I stopped myself. Sadie doesn’t need to hear that theory. There’s also no reason he would kill himself on Bridger land.
“Cause of death?” Chance asks.
“Per the coroner, unclear,” Peterson says. “Establishing cause and manner of death in a body recovered from water is usually a challenge. She estimates it’s been three to four months since death, so if there were any substances in his system at the time of his death, toxicology won’t show it now.”
“So if he was drugged, we won’t know,” Chance says.
Peterson nods. The sounds of the pool hall circle around us. The crack of the balls. The twangy guitar music. Low voices.
“Right. But the exam didn’t show any outward signs of drug use.”
Sadie sinks farther into me, and she chokes out a sob.
“This conversation is over.” I shake my head. “You think you can have this talk somewhere besides three feet from the deceased’s sister?” I kiss the top of her head.
“She’s a detective on the case,” he counters.
“If you thought there was a conflict of interest before,” I say, “she’s up to her eyeballs in it now. I’d say she’s off the case.”
Sadie doesn’t say anything, which says a lot because she and I can argue too fucking easily.
“Baby, let’s go,” I murmur.
Sadie looks up at me, and I swear all I want to do is take her home and protect her forever from everything in the world. Peterson. This case. Even shit like Rhonda.
Damn.