A Breath Away. Rita Herron

Who was that reporter and why would he want to speak with Violet? And why had Baker been afraid of him?

      Logan finished, then left for the station. Knowing he wouldn’t rest without answers, Grady decided to confront his father one more time. With Baker’s body in the morgue and Violet in town claiming her father’s innocence, it was time Walt Monroe started talking.

      A JOLT OF FEAR BOLTED through Violet at the malevolence in Mr. Monroe’s eyes.

      “Did you know your daddy killed my baby girl?” the man bellowed.

      Violet shook her head.

      “Then get the hell out of town.”

      Violet chanced a look at the other patrons, who all sat gawking at the scene, either too stunned by the confrontation to move or too intimidated by Monroe.

      All except Joseph Longhorse.

      The Cherokee’s black eyes flared with contempt, reminding her of his temper. He started toward her—rather, toward Grady’s father.

      But the last thing Violet wanted was to make a scene. She especially didn’t want Laney’s son to suffer at her expense. This was her problem. She’d deal with it.

      “I understand how you feel, Mr. Monroe.”

      “You don’t have any idea how I feel, Miss Baker.” A blood vessel throbbed in his forehead. “So don’t play your little game of innocence with me. It won’t work.”

      “I’m not playing games,” Violet said, hating the quiver in her voice as she stood. “I just came here to bury my father. Then I’m leaving town.”

      “If you know what’s good for you, get him in the ground and get out of here today.”

      Joseph inched toward her, but she threw up a warning hand. Holding her head high, she dug inside her purse, dropped some cash on the table, mouthed a thank-you to Laney, then turned and strode to the door.

      She didn’t breathe easy until she reached the car.

      What had she expected? For Grady’s father to welcome her or act concerned about her feelings? And what about the other people in town? Did they believe her dad was a murderer?

      Part of her wanted to drive straight out of town, but she had to talk to people, find out if anyone had known her father the last few years. Learn everything she could about him and the life he’d led.

      Her resolve intact, she started the car and headed to the cemetery. She had been sent away before Darlene’s funeral. And she’d never returned to visit her friend’s grave.

      It was time she did, and said goodbye.

      HE WAS WATCHING HER.

      Enjoying the view of her tantalizing skin, so pale beneath the blinding noonday sun.