Page 65 of Maverick Detective Dad

“You okay?” His hand clamped around her arm to steady her.

No. She tugged away from his grasp. She couldn’t do this. Not right now. “I need someone else.” Her move to get away turned into more of a stumble back a couple of steps. The worry that clouded his face turned her confusion to renewed anger.

No. This was not acceptable.

“Why don’t we go inside and have a seat?” he offered, ignoring her demand. “Then you can tell me what’s going on?”

What she wanted was to call the sheriff’s office and ask that they send someone else, but even in her current emotionally charged state she understood that would be petty and silly. She simply needed to pull herself together and get this done. When the words and images whirling in her head had calmed and her heart had stopped twisting, she could think more clearly. She had to make that happen sooner rather than later. This was not the time for childish behavior.

Deep breath. “Fine.”

She turned and walked into the house. He followed.

“Wow.” Huck gave a long, low whistle.

Yeah, she thought. Wow.

“Have you had a look around?” he asked as he surveyed the mess. “Noticed anything missing?”

“I looked around, yes. I can’t find his Nikon.” She rested her hands on her hips to prevent the shaking that had started there. What was wrong with her? Even her knees suddenly felt rubbery.

Shock. This had all been too much for a person who’d had no sleep in more than twenty-four hours and, now that she thought about it, hadn’t eaten.

“His camera is missing?”

“I think so. At least, I haven’t found it.” She nodded, feeling overwhelmed. “I tried not to touch anything once I was beyond the front door.” She glanced back in that direction. “Other than Willy’s shotgun. I carried it with me through the house and when I checked the barn and shed.”

“You were smart to be careful.” He gave a nod. “We’ll get our crime-scene investigators out here to check for prints.”

The swell of emotions was back. Fierce and insistent, like a swarm of bees expelled from their colony and searching for a new hive. Another idea, one far more sinister leached into her soul. Her eyes didn’t know where to land. Her heart was unsure of how to slow down and efficiently pump. She felt on the verge of collapse, and yet she wanted to run screaming through the woods.

This could not be happening.

“They said he fell.” Her gaze settled on him... Huck—the boy she’d fallen in love with at fifteen. The boy with whom she’d thought she would be spending the rest of her life. The man who had decided not to wait for her. The man who had left and never looked back.

She sank into the closest chair. She was exhausted. The call from the sheriff had come at two yesterday afternoon. She had left work, rushed back to her townhouse, thrown a few things into a bag and hopped into her car. She had literally driven all night, stopping only for gas. Her brain was no longer functioning properly; otherwise, she would know exactly what to say and do next. She was generally far more collected and self-assured than this.

Willy was dead.

Gone forever.

She surveyed the chaos left behind in his home.

And someone had done this...it was no accident.

Huck was suddenly next to her, crouched down and looking her directly in the eyes. “The medical examiner found nothing to suggest foul play. Nothing at all suspicious.” He surveyed the carnage in the room. “But unless you believe your grandfather made this mess himself or we can find something more that’s missing, we need to determine if there’s a connection between his fall and what we see here that would suggest a different conclusion.”

Was he proposing that someone had killed Willy?

“This—” she waved her hand at the room “—makes you think someone may have pushed him?”

Who would do such a thing? For the most part, Willy had been a hermit in his later years. He and her gran traveled the world in the early days, as much time on the road as at home. At least until Olivia’s mother reached school age, and then they’d had to give up so much traveling to raise their daughter. Not once had her grandparents ever spoken of a single regret. They had loved this place. A lump swelled in her throat. He was gone. The last member of her family. Tears burned her eyes all over again.

She blinked and glared at the man who hadn’t answered her question. “What are you saying?” she demanded.

“This,” he said, “is the definition of suspicious circumstances.”