Sam had spoken last night with Lila’s daughter, Gemma, in the hospital. She’d claimed that Simone was following her, but she hadn’t seen the assailant who’d drugged her with chloroform. It would have almost certainly been Darrin, but there was no proof.
And now this.
“What about the horses?” he asked.
“You’ve seen Fire Dance,” Roper said. “It took four strong men to get him roped and tied so we could get Darrin’s body out of the stall. The poor bastard doesn’t understand what he’s done. He was only trying to be safe.”
“Is One in a Million all right?”
“I hope so. I moved him to a quiet stall. But what he heard in the night could have affected him—especially since he’s already witnessed one death.”
Roper’s jaw tightened. Both men were aware that tomorrow night the week would end with the Run for a Million. And if no new evidence turned up, Sam would have a heartbreaking decision to make.
“Blast it, Sam,” Roper said, “I know you’ve got a job to do, but I didn’t kill Frank. You have to believe that.”
“I want to believe it,” Sam said. “But let’s put that aside while I focus on what happened here. If something important shows up, I don’t want to miss it.”
Sam forced himself to concentrate on what he already knew. Maybe he’d been wrong, dismissing Darrin as Frank’s killer. Darrin could’ve had any number of motives to kill his father. His only alibi had been his wife—and he could have tossed the murder weapon in the creek on his way back to town.
Now, with Darrin dead, it would be easy to hang the murder on him—especially if Simone were to admit that she’d slept soundly through the night. The case would be closed to everyone’s satisfaction. At the very least, having a second suspect would help Roper’s chances at trial.
“What the hell—?” Hayden had come around the end of the row. He looked hungover, probably from last night’s celebration of his win. His bewildered gaze took in the trussed horse and the crew of police technicians who were still bagging their gear. Sam caught his attention and beckoned him over.
“What’s going on?” Hayden demanded.
“There’s been a death,” Sam said. “A man—Darrin Culhane—was killed in the night when he wandered into your horse’s stall. It appeared he was attacked by the horse. Did you know him?”
“I know he’s—was—a Culhane, but we never met. And that horse isn’t mine.”
“I was given to understand you were the owner. That’s what Roper McKenna told me.”
“Roper doesn’t know yet,” Hayden said. “That horse isn’t mine anymore. As of last night, he belongs to Miss Cheyenne McKenna.”
CHAPTERTEN
Cheyenne had awakened before dawn. Too restless to go back to sleep, she had showered and shampooed her hair, dressed, and tidied the room for her mother’s impending arrival. Now she stood at the window, watching the sky fade above the glittering streets below.
Stetson, her older brother, had texted her last night from somewhere in New Mexico. He and their mother would be getting into Las Vegas by midmorning. Stetson would be dropping Rachel off with Cheyenne, after which he’d be free to make his own plans. Cheyenne suspected he’d be spending time with a girl he’d met at a rodeo here. But she wouldn’t ask. She respected her brother’s right to privacy—especially since she had so little of her own. In this capital of sin, surrounded by lustful cowboys, Rachel McKenna would be watching her daughter’s every move.
Cheyenne would need to make the most of the few hours that remained. Checking on Fire Dance would be at the top of her list. She would find Roper and get his suggestions on how to move the stallion out of South Point and into an open place like a paddock, where he could have room to run off his fear—a place where he might begin to heal.
Buck’s advice would be useful, too. Even though he’d suggested putting Fire Dance down, she respected his judgment. But Buck would likely be leaving today. Earlier, she’d heard water running and the sound of movement in his room. Afraid of making a fool of herself, she’d resisted the urge to knock on his door. Now the room was quiet. He could already be down at the trailer dock loading Chief for the long drive back to Ten Sleep, Wyoming, wherever that was. Maybe she could catch up with him before he left.
Torn, she picked up her purse and swung toward the door, then hesitated as she heard a knock. That it might be Buck was too much to hope. But maybe it was Roper. She flew to open the door.
Hayden stood in the doorway, a manila envelope in his hand and a sheepish expression on his face. “You don’t look happy to see me,” he said. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” Cheyenne stepped back. “At this hour, I take it this isn’t a social visit. What’s on your mind?”
Hayden closed the door behind him as he came inside. “First of all, I want to apologize,” he said. “I was a jerk last night. Blame it on a few too many beers. I’m sorry.”
“It’s forgotten,” Cheyenne said.
“Then how about a hug—between friends?” He opened his arms. Cheyenne allowed herself to be drawn close for a moment, but she could feel her nerves tingling. Something about him—perhaps the sound of his breathing or the scent of his body—triggered an unexplained chill.
She eased away from him. “Is there something else? Have you changed your mind about giving me Fire Dance?”
“No, the horse is yours. I’ve got the transfer papers right here. I called my lawyer in the night to get them drawn up and faxed.” He thrust the manila envelope toward her. Cheyenne’s hands shook as she accepted it. She’d owned other horses, but none that came with Fire Dance’s challenges. She would do her best to save him. That was all she could promise.