Renegade (Tin Star K9 Series Book 1) by Jodi Burnett (fastest ebook reader .txt) 📕

14

Before they left the café, Colt had convinced Caitlyn to let him bring dinner to her house later that night, winning her over by assuring her it would be a working meal. He picked up Chinese takeout from Wong’s Kitchen and drove out to Caitlyn’s new place, bumping along the dirt road to her cabin. Renegade barked a warning, but he soon recognized Colt’s Jeep and wagged his tail in greeting. Colt pulled up next to Caitlyn’s truck, and when he opened his door, Renegade was there dancing at his feet.

“Hey, buddy.” He reached down and scratched the dog behind his ears. “I’m glad to see you, too.” Colt made his way up the front steps, doing his best not to trip on his canine escort. He rapped three times on the solid wood door.

Muffled steps sounded inside before the door opened about six inches. Caitlyn held the door with one hand and peered out through the crack. “Hi.”

Colt could practically touch the apprehension floating in the air around her. “Hi.” He held up the bags of food. “I have Kung Pao Chicken. Are you hungry?”

Caitlyn gazed at him for a few heavy seconds, before she opened the door the rest of the way to let him in.

“Where should I put this?” Colt glanced around the room. There was a cozy fire blazing in a stone fireplace in a sitting area on the left. The open space merged into the kitchen on the right. On the far wall, behind a small dining table where a painting should go, he noticed that Caitlyn had pinned up evidence regarding the Gessler case. He swallowed a grin and instead set the bags of food on the counter bar that divided the kitchen from the living room.

“That smells good. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until right now.” Caitlyn followed him to the kitchen and moved past him to pull dishes out of the cupboard. “We can fill our plates and eat in front of the fire, if you want? What would you like to drink?”

“Beer for me, thanks.” While Caitlyn reached for two bottles in the fridge, Colt busied himself filling their plates. Together they carried their meal to the coffee table in front of the warm fire. It was May, but the evenings were still cold enough for them to appreciate the extra heat. They ate in silence for several minutes, listening to the flames crack and pop before Colt broached the uncomfortable topic.

“Catie, I know you don’t want to talk about this, but I’d really like to start with a clean slate. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for being an idiot all those years ago. I know I hurt you, but that was the last thing I ever intended. I wasn’t thinking. I was just a stupid seventeen-year-old full of hormones.” Colt pleaded with her, watching for any sign of reprieve.

Caitlyn considered his words while she finished chewing her mouthful, staring at him for a moment before she answered. “That’s not good enough, Colt. I trusted you. I believed you loved me. I shared everything with you. How could you tromp on that, and blame your actions on hormones? What? I just slipped your mind? You really hurt me—more than you know.” She lowered her chin and her shoulders curled in protectively. She spoke toward the floor. “I loved you, Colt, and you broke my heart.” She looked up at him from the corner of her eye. “And I never intend to let that happen again.”

“Catie…” He reached for her hand.

Caitlyn stood abruptly and moved to the fireplace. She steadied herself by holding onto the raw-edge wooden mantel. “You’re here tonight so that we can discuss the murder case. That’s it. If you plan on bringing up personal history all night, you may as well leave now.”

Colt held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, I get it. Where do you want to begin?” His chest ached like he’d been kicked—still, if this was all he could have, he’d rather be here with her talking about a murder than anywhere else.

Caitlyn studied him for a second before she picked up her plate and walked over to her wall of evidence. “This is what I have so far.”

In the center of the wall, she had tacked up a piece of paper with the question, “Who Murdered Wendy?” She circled the words in red ink. Above that was a timeline marked with key dates, including the Friday when Wendy was last seen, through the following Monday when her body was found. Caitlyn had added the arrival of the CSI and coroner, the approximate time the sheriff received the Coroner’s preliminary report, and the date and time of Dylan’s arrest.

On the left side was a sheet of paper titled “Suspects” under which she’d written Dylan’s name. On another sheet titled “Physical Evidence,” she recorded the location of the body in the shallow grave, the casing Sheriff Tackett found, and the fact that Wendy had been pregnant. Under “Witnesses” on the right side of the wall, Caitlyn had jotted down that Jim Hague allegedly saw Dylan having an intense conversation with Wendy at the Tipsy Cow the night she disappeared. With red string, she had connected the events on the timeline with their coordinating items on the board below.

Caitlyn pointed to the map pinned on her wall. “This is a topographical map of Reed Ranch and the surrounding acreage. I’ve circled the location where I found Wendy’s body and sketched the path from that location back to the ranch.” She picked up a red pencil and pointed at the map. “Here, approximately thirty yards from the location where her body was buried, is a gate to the BLM that borders our property.”

“Why do you have a gate from your property to the BLM? It’s not big enough for cattle.” Colt carried his plate over and joined her at the wall.

“We like