Zeke’s heart gave a jolt. He couldn’t let her go alone. He’d become protective of her, wanting to help, to make this as non-traumatic as possible. Hell. He didn’t even know her.
“Besides,” Dena said. “If I get caught you’re off the hook. I’ll say that you followed to prevent me from going in there.”
He blew out a gust of air. He’d become complacent. There was nothing he was aggressive about anymore. Not one damn thing. Until these murders were solved, he’d stay at Three C’s, he knew that. Then he’d be gone in a flash, back to the law practice, if they’d have him. Or maybe he’d start his own firm. He pressed his lips tight and climbed off the horse. He tied the reins to a tree, and then raised his hand to help Dena dismount.
The area had been combed by the Riverside Sheriff’s Department and he doubted she’d find anything. His attempts at investigation had been lame compared to Dena’s. His thoughts ran wild for a minute, trying to justify his actions. If they stayed on the top side, away from the recent findings, on the outside of the caution tapes, it’d be okay.
He found a gap in the fence, and then widened it and stared through. Carli’s grave had been dug deep in the sandy soil, and a couple of large rocks had been rolled on top. Stanton had told him the killer had wanted to protect the body from wild animals. To his mind that was one of the reasons it had to be a local because they understood the desert and its midnight marauders. He hadn’t told Dena about that. She paced up and down now and frowned, agitated he guessed by his slowness. He widened the gap even further.
“Think you can get through here?”
She hurried over, petite without the spike heels she’d worn yesterday, and leaned down. They were so close he could smell the sweetness of her skin.
“Perfect,” she said, and slid through. “What about you?”
He coughed. He’d been overcome with the desire to trace the sweep of her neck with his tongue, kiss her smooth skin. Good thing she intended leaving town. “I’ll manage. We’ll have to keep to the path,” he said, and looked up, but Dena was halfway down the slight rise.
Damn. In the distance a cop car faced the main road and blocked the entrance into the area. Zeke knew criminals often returned to the scene of the crime. It wouldn’t look too good if he was found here. Sweat trickled down the nape of his neck. But he couldn’t desert her. He sucked in his gut and squeezed through the gap.
Wanting to give her some privacy, he pressed his back into the trunk of an old gnarled tree a short distance away and waited. She’d said her relationship with her mother wasn’t good. They had that in common, along with the death of loved ones. He should have tried harder, broken down the walls his mother had erected. He tried to shut out the memories, but they bit into him. Unlike him, Dena still had a chance to repair her relationship with her mother.
A piece of caution tape fluttered on the slight breeze like a windsock. Could that be where they’d uncovered Susie’s body? He picked his way through the rubble and sand, and halted at the tape, remembering with sadness some of his and Susie’s earlier fun-filled times. He prayed her death had been quick. Minutes later, he trudged back. Dena sat still on the same rock, a tiny presence set against the stark desert floor, odd in some ways, but kind of spiritual. He wondered if she’d sensed anything.
She stood. “We can go now,” she said, and brushed past him.
He followed her up to the fence, and once through it breathed a sigh of relief. Neither of them spoke. He untied the horses, gave Dena a boost, and tried not to think about her closeness, or how he liked the silky feel of her skin and her flowery scent.
They rode back in complete silence.
****
In the guest bedroom at the hacienda, Dena zipped up the skirt of her business suit and reached for her jacket. She didn’t really want to leave Three C’s Estates. She shrugged. She’d imagined what it might be like to live here this morning, when she and Zeke had gone out for the ride. The desert was beautiful in its own way.