The Lone Rancher - By Carol Finch Page 0,60
Cahill here? I’d like to speak to him.”
“He’s in bed, recovering from two blows to the head.”
“So that’s why Doc was here?”
“Precisely. Cahill has a concussion.” Adrianna led the way upstairs. “You may speak to him if he is awake and coherent. If not, you can question him after he has recovered.”
“Miz McKnight, might I remind you that I am the marshal of Cahill Crossing and I handle investigations as I see fit?” he said authoritatively.
Adrianna pivoted two steps above him and relied upon the lofty tone she’d heard her father employ when he put someone in his place. “Might I remind you, Mr. Hobbs,” she countered, purposely omitting his title, “that Cahill is injured. You will wait until he can answer your questions accurately. If he is still confused about what happened, then you will wait another day. If you have a problem with that, speak to Dr. Lewis and he will advise the same thing.”
They exchanged squinty-eyed stares for a long moment. Then Hobbs inclined his dark head ever so slightly. “Lead the way, ma’am. Let’s see how your patient is feeling, shall we?”
Annoyed by the lawman’s unyielding attitude, she strode toward the master suite. To her dismay, Quin was awake, so she couldn’t shoo away the marshal.
“Cahill,” Hobbs greeted as he came to stand at the foot of the bed. “I’m hoping you can answer some questions. As I told your…nurse—” he cut Adrianna a wry glance “—I received an anonymous tip that someone died on your ranch last night and that you are the one who killed him. Mind telling me what that was all about?”
Quin combed his fingers through his tousled hair and tried to look alert but he couldn’t pull it off. Adrianna thought he should wait to have this discussion but his expression indicated he wanted to clear the air immediately.
“I received an anonymous letter also,” Quin re ported. “It arrived at supper time last night. According to the note, my parents’ deaths were not the result of the common kind of accident on a dangerous curve. If I brought money to the meeting site I could trade it for information.”
“Are we talking robbery? Manslaughter? Murder?” Hobbs choked out. “I investigated the wreck at Ghost Canyon myself. There were no tracks nearby to indicate an attack. The broken debris from the wagon and its cargo were strewn over the rocks and underbrush.”
“That doesn’t mean someone didn’t wipe the area clean to conceal his guilt,” Boston interjected.
Hobbs sent her a silencing glance—as if that would shut her up, thought Quin.
“If anything, a wagon wheel or hub gave way at the worst of all possible times,” the marshal continued. “You read my report yourself, Cahill. Your whole family did.”
Quin snorted. “Of course, it would look bad if it turned out you had botched the investigation, wouldn’t it? I can see why you might be reluctant and skeptical.”
Hobbs snapped up his dark head and his brown eyes flashed indignation. “Now see here, Cahill, no one has questioned my ability to do my job in the past. I can understand that you are upset about the loss of your parents. But accidental manslaughter or murder? Why would an informant contact you two years after the fact?”
“That’s what I wanted to know, Hobbs. Which is why I rode out to Phantom Springs, as the note instructed. Unfortunately, the supposed informant was already dead,” Quin replied.
“And you can prove that?” Hobbs challenged doubtfully.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, be sensible,” Boston interjected. “Why would Cahill want to shoot a man who might have vital information about his parents’ deaths?”
Hobbs cut Boston an annoyed glance. “If rumors are to be believed, you and Cahill were involved in a feud. Suddenly you reconciled. Or at least that’s what some folks presumed…until someone burned down the new addition on your house. Now here you are in Cahill’s home and no one knows what to believe.”
“And what does any of that have to do with a dead man at Phantom Springs?” she countered sharply. “Let’s stick to one investigation at a time, shall we?”
“I’m wondering if whoever deliberately set the fire during the party was under orders. Perhaps the mastermind decided to silence the arsonist permanently to avoid being blackmailed.” Hobbs glanced accusingly at Quin.
Quin was tempted to leap off the bed and sock the marshal in the jaw for voicing such ridiculous suspicions. Who was spreading rumors to make him look bad? Quin wondered. Damn it, someone was spreading incriminating explanations for everything he