Page 89 of Meant for Her

“Ryan?” he called to his brother who was upstairs.

“I heard. Be right down.”

He could only have heard part of the conversation. Ryan came down wearing a long-sleeved shirt, which was good as it would cover his wrist wound that had healed completely.

“That was the sheriff, I presume?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you the details on the way, but he wants us to go down to the station. He arrested Pete for murder, who understandably wants to cut a deal. Pete is requesting that we be there.”

“Why?” Ryan asked.

“He’ll only tell what happened if we’re there. Grab your coat.”

Luke drove. “We probably should have brought the belt the body was wearing,” he said.

“In light of the possibility the body might not be Dad, the belt buckle doesn’t prove anything conclusively. Only the DNA testing will,” Ryan said.

“You’re right.” He should have thought of that.

Luke wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. Maybe it was the thought that his father might still be alive. If that were the case, Luke would not welcome the man with open arms. The least his dad could have done was tell his own kids that he was running away from his responsibilities. It didn’t matter if he claimed some people had threatened to kill him—which was probably the case.

If the man in the grave was his father, Luke didn’t know how he’d respond, but he’d wait to hear what Pete said before he decided.

It didn’t take long to reach town. “Remember, you’re still injured.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “I know what’s at stake. Just watch out that you limp a little.”

“You can telepath a reminder if I forget.”

“Got it.”

The sheriff must have told the receptionist to expect them, because she led them to a room down the hall from the sheriff’s office. “They’re in there.”

“Thanks.”

When Luke opened the door to the windowless, small room, Pete looked up. His shoulders sagged as he let out a breath. It was almost as if he believed they were his only hope.

Luke was sad to see the man he used to care about at a scarred table with his wrists shackled.

“Pete,” Luke said as a way of acknowledging him.

“Have a seat,” Sheriff Hanson instructed and then faced Pete again. “Now that the men are here, tell us what you know. So you know, I’m going to be recording this.”

“Good,” Pete said.

“Is that Dad in the grave?” Luke couldn’t help himself. He needed to know.

“No.”

Even though Luke expected that possibility, it was a shock to hear it. The sheriff would probably have the bones tested anyway just in case Pete was lying to cover his butt.

“Who was he?” the sheriff asked.

“Fred Hogan.”

“And who is Fred Hogan?” the sheriff asked.

“I never met the man myself—when he was alive, that is.”

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