that guest room,” Declan said, excusing himself.
Kirby lifted his hand and motioned for them to come closer. “Tell me about Owen,” he mumbled, and his hand eased back onto the bed.
Dallas wanted to keep this as short as possible because he knew even a simple conversation would be exhausting for Kirby. “Owen claims someone sent him a knife containing Webb’s blood and my prints and that it was wrapped in your handkerchief. He just turned it over to Saul, who’s sending it to the lab.”
“Owen always was a wormy little snake,” Kirby mumbled.
That wasn’t exactly what Dallas wanted to hear. He’d wanted Kirby to say the evidence had to be fake, that there was no way his handkerchief could be wrapped around a murder weapon.
“Saul wouldn’t let me look at the knife,” Dallas continued. “He wants me to stay away from all of this.” He motioned to Joelle. “But she had it tested, and they’re apparently my prints.”
“Dallas could have handled that knife at any time,” Joelle said, her voice a whisper. “And Webb’s killer could have used gloves during the murder so that only Dallas’s prints were the ones on it.”
She stayed back from Kirby’s bed and dodged his gaze when he turned his head in her direction.
What the heck was going on?
Maybe the idea of a dying man bothered her. Well, it bothered him, too, especially when that man was the only father Dallas had ever known.
“Owen’s setting you up?” Kirby asked, his voice already so weak that it barely had any sound.
Joelle nodded.
“He’s blackmailing Joelle to marry him,” Dallas explained when she didn’t say anything. “That won’t stop the knife from being processed.”
Or stop Dallas and maybe others from being arrested.
He walked closer to Kirby. “Look, I know you’re not well enough to leave town, but I want to hire you a good lawyer. One who’ll make sure that no one tries to include you in this mess.”
The corner of Kirby’s mouth lifted. “You’re a good son, Dallas. But let the chips fall where they may.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Dallas snapped. “I’m not letting them arrest you, especially for something you didn’t do.”
Again, Kirby didn’t jump to say he was innocent, but Dallas didn’t care. Jonah Webb had been a scum of a man, and no one should be going to jail for stopping him.
Especially Kirby.
“You need to go back to Rocky Creek,” Kirby said several moments later. “Talk with the people who were there the night that Webb disappeared. Look around and see what you can find.”
“Joelle and her people have already done that,” Dallas reminded him. But Dallas did intend to examine all of her notes and statements.
“No,” Kirby said. “You and Joelle go. You talk to them. You look for something that others may have missed.” He drew in a labored breath. “I don’t know what answers you’ll find there, but you’ll find something.”
Yeah. But he damn sure didn’t want to find anything to corroborate that knife and handkerchief.
Kirby lifted his hand again, pointed at Joelle and motioned for her to come closer. She froze for just a split second. But Dallas definitely noticed. He also didn’t miss the uneasy look in her eyes.
Yeah. Something was definitely going on here.
Dallas waited. Watched and listened. Joelle inched her way to Kirby’s bed. When she was close enough, Kirby reached out and took her hand.
“You have to tell him,” Kirby said. “Dallas needs to know.”
“Know what?” Dallas immediately asked.
Joelle shook her head, and now she dodged Dallas’s gaze.
“Yes,” Kirby insisted. “Tell him. No more secrets.”
Secrets. There it was again. That blasted word that Dallas was beginning to hate. One of the gunmen in the woods had said something about a secret, and Joelle hadn’t brushed it off.
Well, she wouldn’t brush it off now.
Dallas took her arm and led her back to the hall so they could talk in private.
“Go easy on her,” Kirby mumbled. “Everything she’s done is because she’s still in love with you. Even a dying man can see that.”
Dallas cursed. In this case the dying man was wrong. The only thing Dallas saw when he looked at Joelle was a woman who’d abandoned him sixteen years ago. She wasn’t keeping secrets for love; she was keeping them, well, he didn’t know why.
Yet.
Dallas practically dragged her from the room, and when he shut Kirby’s door, he got right in her face.
“Start talking,” Dallas demanded. And this time, he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
Chapter Eight
It was too late for Joelle to try