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Authors: Rita Herron
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solid evidence to prove that Jones had murdered Joleen, too. Then he could add a homicide charge to his other charges. Combined with his previous sentence, Geoff wouldn’t see daylight for a long damn time.
And any chance of his haughty parents denying that Geoff was a criminal would be lost forever.
They made quick introductions as the sheriff and crime team met him at the door.
“We spoke to Ms. Matthews,” Sheriff Leonard said. “She thinks her ex-husband killed this woman.”
Alex gritted his teeth. “It’s possible. Jones is obsessed with Mia. We believe he came after her for revenge.”
“I remember that trial. Don’t have any use for wife beaters myself,” Sheriff Leonard muttered sourly.
“Me neither,” Alex said. “Jones has been on the ranch. He left flowers and a note on Mia’s doorstep and messed with her clothing inside the house.”
The sheriff studied Joleen’s body where it lay on the floor in a pool of blood. “Why did he kill Joleen?”
“I don’t know,” Alex said. “Maybe he came here looking for Mia. Joleen could have recognized him from the news and tried to call the police.”
The sheriff hooked his thumbs in his belt. “That makes sense.”
Alex gestured toward the crime techs. “Sweep this place good, especially this room. The dining hall will have dozens of prints from the ranch hands.” He looked up at the sheriff. “Maybe you can help me question the employees. We’ll need their prints for comparison as well.”
“Sure thing.” Sheriff Leonard went to his car to retrieve his fingerprinting kit while the techs began combing the room for forensics.
Alex divided the list of employees between himself and the sheriff, then stepped outside to address the ranch hands. “Listen, guys, I know you’re all wondering what’s going on. Your cook Joleen was murdered. The sheriff and I need to talk to each of you. If you know anything about Joleen’s murder, please tell us up front.” He paused. “We’ll also need your fingerprints for elimination purposes.”
Several of the men shifted, looking nervous, and a rumble of low voices echoed protests. He sensed a couple of the men were illegal immigrants, and one or two had records.
“Listen, the sheriff and I are not interested in your papers if you’re working on obtaining legal status. What we want is to find Joleen’s killer.”
Alex set up station on the right side of the dining hall while the sheriff took the left. Henry and Bates were put in charge of watching the door and keeping the men calm and under control.
The first three men Alex questioned had worked with Henry for over ten years, seemed completely devoted to Henry, boasted about what a great employer and friend he was. They all adored Joleen to the point of being visibly shaken and distraught. None of them argued about being fingerprinted either and all denied ever having been in Joleen’s suite.
Dammit, he wished he’d had time to run background checks on all of them and look at their financials. If one of the hands needed money, Geoff could easily have used that weakness in his favor.
He carefully worded his questions to probe the subject.
“Listen to me,” Barry Ernest said. “We don’t make a fortune here, but it’s steady money, enough to support our families.”
“And we get housing,” another hand told him.
Alex dismissed those three, then asked Truitt Wilson to join him alone at the table. Wilson seemed apprehensive and drummed his fist on the table.
“This is awful,” he said “Ms. Joleen reminded me of my grandma.”
“Do you own a gun?” Alex asked.
Wilson fidgeted. “A shot gun. But you know, Sergeant, we need it when we’re out working the cattle. Snakes and all.”
True. “Hang on a minute.” He put in a call to his chief and asked him to obtain a warrant to allow them to search the men’s bunks and their personal belongings. If one of them had a .38, they’d have it tested to see if it was the
And any chance of his haughty parents denying that Geoff was a criminal would be lost forever.
They made quick introductions as the sheriff and crime team met him at the door.
“We spoke to Ms. Matthews,” Sheriff Leonard said. “She thinks her ex-husband killed this woman.”
Alex gritted his teeth. “It’s possible. Jones is obsessed with Mia. We believe he came after her for revenge.”
“I remember that trial. Don’t have any use for wife beaters myself,” Sheriff Leonard muttered sourly.
“Me neither,” Alex said. “Jones has been on the ranch. He left flowers and a note on Mia’s doorstep and messed with her clothing inside the house.”
The sheriff studied Joleen’s body where it lay on the floor in a pool of blood. “Why did he kill Joleen?”
“I don’t know,” Alex said. “Maybe he came here looking for Mia. Joleen could have recognized him from the news and tried to call the police.”
The sheriff hooked his thumbs in his belt. “That makes sense.”
Alex gestured toward the crime techs. “Sweep this place good, especially this room. The dining hall will have dozens of prints from the ranch hands.” He looked up at the sheriff. “Maybe you can help me question the employees. We’ll need their prints for comparison as well.”
“Sure thing.” Sheriff Leonard went to his car to retrieve his fingerprinting kit while the techs began combing the room for forensics.
Alex divided the list of employees between himself and the sheriff, then stepped outside to address the ranch hands. “Listen, guys, I know you’re all wondering what’s going on. Your cook Joleen was murdered. The sheriff and I need to talk to each of you. If you know anything about Joleen’s murder, please tell us up front.” He paused. “We’ll also need your fingerprints for elimination purposes.”
Several of the men shifted, looking nervous, and a rumble of low voices echoed protests. He sensed a couple of the men were illegal immigrants, and one or two had records.
“Listen, the sheriff and I are not interested in your papers if you’re working on obtaining legal status. What we want is to find Joleen’s killer.”
Alex set up station on the right side of the dining hall while the sheriff took the left. Henry and Bates were put in charge of watching the door and keeping the men calm and under control.
The first three men Alex questioned had worked with Henry for over ten years, seemed completely devoted to Henry, boasted about what a great employer and friend he was. They all adored Joleen to the point of being visibly shaken and distraught. None of them argued about being fingerprinted either and all denied ever having been in Joleen’s suite.
Dammit, he wished he’d had time to run background checks on all of them and look at their financials. If one of the hands needed money, Geoff could easily have used that weakness in his favor.
He carefully worded his questions to probe the subject.
“Listen to me,” Barry Ernest said. “We don’t make a fortune here, but it’s steady money, enough to support our families.”
“And we get housing,” another hand told him.
Alex dismissed those three, then asked Truitt Wilson to join him alone at the table. Wilson seemed apprehensive and drummed his fist on the table.
“This is awful,” he said “Ms. Joleen reminded me of my grandma.”
“Do you own a gun?” Alex asked.
Wilson fidgeted. “A shot gun. But you know, Sergeant, we need it when we’re out working the cattle. Snakes and all.”
True. “Hang on a minute.” He put in a call to his chief and asked him to obtain a warrant to allow them to search the men’s bunks and their personal belongings. If one of them had a .38, they’d have it tested to see if it was the
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