The Marshal's Hostage - By Delores Fossen Page 0,52

the knife and put it away somewhere.”

Oh, God. Had that really happened? Or was this the ranting of a drunk man who might be trying to cover his own guilt? After all, the knife very well might have been Rudy’s.

“Rudy’s making it sound like I did something wrong,” Sarah shouted. “I didn’t steal the knife from his truck. I found it in the boys’ bathroom and took the knife to Jonah. After he showed it to some of the boys, I put it in Jonah’s desk drawer just like he told me to do. I told Jonah it might be Rudy’s, and he said he’d ask him about it later.”

The sheriff motioned for Sarah to stay quiet. “Keep talking,” he instructed Rudy.

“Jonah didn’t know the knife was mine,” Rudy went on. “When he described it and I told him it was, he looked for it but said Sarah must have taken it. I think Sarah used that knife to kill Jonah, and if she did, Marshal, she’ll try to pin his killin’ on me or you. Me because it was my knife and you because your prints were on it.”

Dallas’s gaze met Joelle’s, and she saw the questions in his eyes. Of course, Rudy’s accusations didn’t address their number-one suspect.

“Did Owen have access to that knife?” Joelle asked.

“Owen?” she heard Rudy question, and he shook his head. “I doubt it. Well, unless Sarah gave it to him.”

“I didn’t,” she called out. “I put in the drawer, and I don’t know why it wasn’t there when Jonah looked for it.”

Maybe because someone had taken it.

Someone like Owen.

Of course, Sarah could have taken it, too.

Dallas looked back at her as if thinking the same thing. “I swear to you,” he said to the woman, “that I’ll get to the bottom of this. I won’t stop until I find the killer.”

If he’d meant it as a warning, it worked. In fact, it sounded more like a guaranteed threat. It certainly hushed Rudy and had Sarah looking a little uncomfortable.

“This knife isn’t important,” Sarah responded after several moments. “All this stuff Rudy is spouting about happened months before Jonah was killed,” Sarah added. “It doesn’t make sense that I’d hide a knife all that time.”

It would if Sarah intended to keep it for protection against an abusive man. But that didn’t rule out someone else doing the same thing.

Joelle wanted to ask Sarah if Owen or anyone else had access to that drawer. Of course, if Owen had taken it, that meant he’d kept it hidden away after all these years. That was a long time to withhold evidence.

Unless he used it to murder Webb.

If Owen had known about Dallas’s prints being on the knife, then he could have kept it simply to pin the blame on Dallas. But then that meant whoever the real killer was had used gloves so that only Dallas’s prints would be there.

Could Owen have thought to take those kind of precautions when he was only seventeen years old?

Maybe.

And if he had, it meant Webb’s murder hadn’t happened in the heat of the moment. It was premeditated.

Yes, she definitely had to ask Sarah some questions, including ones about that safe. Had she even known about it? And did she have any idea what was inside it?

Joelle turned to do just that, but she only made it a few steps toward Sarah before Dallas and the sheriff cursed. She whirled back around and saw that Rudy was no longer in the entry. He’d dropped his gun and was running up the stairs.

“Don’t shoot him,” the sheriff called out to Clayton. “He’s not armed.”

But that didn’t meant he wasn’t dangerous. “Webb’s office,” Joelle said on a rise of breath. “He might try to set it on fire.”

Dallas, Clayton and the others started running. “Make sure the back of the building is secured,” Dallas shouted, and Clayton headed that way.

Joelle ran after them, cursing her heels, which were only slowing her down. Dallas made it to the front of the building first, and with his gun drawn, he threw open the door and raced toward the stairs. She saw Rudy’s gun on the floor where he’d discarded it, but she prayed he didn’t have another weapon on him. Joelle didn’t want this to turn into a shootout with Dallas caught in the middle.

The sheriff retrieved Rudy’s gun, stuck it in his pocket and barreled up the stairs behind Dallas. “Wait here,” he insisted.

Joelle didn’t want to wait. She wanted to stop Rudy