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  Booley grunted, knocking her shoulder as he passed through the door.

  She ignored his juvenile antics and flipped open her notebook, concentrating on the task at hand.

  A trace of a white powdery substance covered Ben’s face. A chair near the small kitchenette lay on its side. The kitchen cupboards and drawers were all open. Someone had been searching for something. From her position at the door, she couldn’t see if the loft had been ransacked, but the living area seemed to be untouched. Maybe the assailant had found whatever they were looking for in the kitchen and hadn’t gone through the rest of the house.

  Booley’s heavy footsteps thudded through the door. He didn’t bump into her as he entered, which was a relief. Booley was a jerk. Dealing with his attitude was a challenge at the best of times. She didn’t need the distraction while working a case.

  “So you think Jack Morgan killed him?” Dana hadn’t met Jack and hadn’t wanted to. It was better for her peace of mind if she stayed away from the Morgans. It helped that their ranch was on the other side of Molly’s Mountain, away from Hopefalls and in Elkhead County.

  Booley hunched down next to Ben. “It’s doubtful. Jack’s suffering from Alzheimer’s. He’s in a care home in Granite City, but he has a son, Timothy.”

  “Tim Morgan? The same Tim Morgan who killed Aunt Alice?” She backed through the door, but stopped before she stumbled down the steps.

  Booley straightened and then nodded.

  An invisible vice tightened around Dana’s chest. Tim Morgan had devastated her family when he’d caused the car accident that had taken Aunt Alice’s life. Unable to deal with his sister’s death, her father had moved the family to Spokane, a place where she, at thirteen, had been an outsider. It was the beginning of a dark time in her life, one that had lasted until she’d joined the Spokane police force in her twentieth year.

  Dana straightened her shoulders. “I need you to leave the scene now.”

  “Sounds like you mean business.”

  “Yes, sir.” She took one last look at the body. Although four wounds punctured the chest, there was very little blood. Damn. No blood meant Ben was already dead when he was shot. No, she couldn’t draw any conclusions. All she could do was wait for the medical examiner’s report and go from there.

  She marched to her car, opened the trunk, and took out some crime scene tape and paper bags. The bags were to preserve any evidence on Ben’s hands. She was doing this by the book. This was their chance to get Timothy Morgan. Nineteen years ago, he’d gotten away with killing Aunt Alice.

  He wouldn’t get away this time.

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Epilogue