Trace Evidence in Tarrant County. Delores Fossen

because Zane already did.”

      Jim nodded. “But I figured you’d have some questions of your own.”

      “As a matter of fact, I do.” Carley just hadn’t expected to be asking them so soon. Her hands went on her hips. “Okay, let me just say what’s on my mind. Most suspects don’t volunteer to be interviewed, and your presence here makes me suspicious. Making yourself readily available doesn’t mean you aren’t guilty.”

      Jim appeared to fight back a smile. “You don’t beat around the bush.”

      “It saves time,” she explained.

      “Yeah, it does. So I’ll just put it all out there, too. Anything I do or say will make you more suspicious. It’s just the way things are, Sheriff. You’re convinced I killed Lou Ann.” He shook his head and plowed his hand through his hair. No more smile fighting. His face was somber now. “And I can’t remember half of what happened that night. But I do remember where I was nearly a week ago and, just for the record, I wasn’t anywhere near Sarah Wallace or the Matheson Inn.”

      “But you knew she was back in town?”

      “Not until after she was dead.” He hesitated a moment. “Sarah called me, though.”

      That revelation surprised her more than Jim’s visit. “You didn’t mention that when Zane interviewed you.”

      “Because at the time I didn’t know.” His breathing was suddenly weary. “I don’t think it’s a secret that my wife and I argue. A lot. Well, this morning, right after I got home from work, Stella and I had one of our disagreements. It turned a little ugly on her part, and in the heat of anger she blurted out that Sarah had called me that night. Stella thought I might be having another affair.”

      “Were you?” Carley asked.

      “Not on your life.”

      “But your wife believed you were.”

      “Stella often believes that,” he said as if choosing his words carefully. “And it’s because I’ve given her mountains of reasons to doubt me. Her doubt was misplaced this time, though. I wasn’t having an affair with Sarah. In fact, I hadn’t seen that girl in sixteen years.”

      Not sure that she was buying this, Carley shrugged. “Then why did Sarah call you?”

      “Probably to ask about my relationship with her mother. To try to make some sense of what’d happened.”

      Off the top of her head, that was Carley’s guess, too. Sarah had apparently come to town to get a lot off her chest. “And what would you have told her about her mother if she’d asked?”

      “I would have said that while I’ve done plenty of kissing, I refrain from the telling part.” He met her gaze. “It would have served no purpose for me to rehash the details of that affair. It was just that. An affair. It meant little or nothing to both Lou Ann and me.”

      He was certainly convincing—about that part anyway. Partly because of that Texas charm that seemed to be ingrained in the McKinney males. Still, that didn’t make Jim innocent, and Carley couldn’t exclude him as a suspect.

      “So why didn’t Stella tell you sooner that Sarah had called?” Carley continued.

      “Like I said, she thought I was having an affair. Or on the verge of starting one. Stella wouldn’t have wanted to play messenger for something like that, so she likely decided to nip it in the bud.”

      Carley tried to piece all of that together. “You told Zane that you were home the night Sarah was killed?”

      He nodded. “I was. So was Stella.”

      There was some hesitation in his voice when he spoke his wife’s name. It was the slightest pause that caused Carley to pounce on it. “You know for certain that Stella was home?”

      More hesitation. But Jim still nodded. “Her bedroom door was shut, but the light was on. She was probably reading or watching TV.”

      “You and your wife don’t share the same room?”

      His face reddened a bit. “Not in a very long time.”

      Some arrangement. And in this case it wasn’t a good arrangement for Jim McKinney since it essentially put his alibi in doubt. “So Stella can’t verify that you were home?”

      “No. She didn’t see me. I guess a sheriff with a suspicious mind could always say that I sneaked out the window, walked clean across town and strangled a young woman that I had absolutely no reason to kill.”

      Oh, Carley could think of a reason. “You could have killed Sarah because she knew you were her mother’s murderer.”

      Jim bobbed his head and scratched his chin. “True. But I didn’t.” His gaze went back to hers. “Carley, I know you don’t think much of me. Hell, I don’t think much of myself, either. But in my way of seeing things, women are the most fascinating creatures on this earth. I’d rather bed one than hurt one. So, if you’re going to accuse me of a particular sin or crime, don’t make it the murder of a woman.”

      The sound of the door must have snared Jim’s attention, because he turned in that direction. Carley saw the man’s grip tighten on his Stetson.

      “Sloan,” Jim greeted. Some of his cocky ease evaporated. “I didn’t know you were back in town.”

      “Just got in this morning. I’m taking over the murder investigation while Zane’s working with the grand jury.”

      Jim cast an uneasy glance her way. Carley gave him back that same uneasy glance. “Then I guess I’m talking to the wrong lawman. I was giving Sheriff Matheson an account of some information I just learned.”

      “Sarah apparently phoned your father the night she was murdered,” Carley provided. “According to him, your mother took the call, but she didn’t tell him about it until this morning.”

      Sloan didn’t seem overly surprised. “Mom was jealous of Sarah.”

      “Something like that,” Jim verified. “Even if I had gotten Sarah’s message, I wouldn’t have met up with her. Something like that would have gotten back to your mother, and I wouldn’t have wanted that.”

      Sloan peered around the doorway at her. “Well, Sheriff? Do you have any more questions for him?”

      “One,” Carley readily admitted. “Did you happen to take a shot at me at one o’clock this morning?”

      Jim’s eyes widened considerably. “I’m not in the habit of shooting at people. Especially women. And I didn’t shoot at you.” He paused a heartbeat. “Any idea who did?”

      “Nope. But I wouldn’t count on it staying that way. The truth has a way of turning up.”

      “Not necessarily in Justice,” Jim mumbled before turning back to his son. “You’ll be staying at the house while you’re in town?”

      “No. Since I’ll be working here pretty much night and day, I decided I’d crash at the Matheson Inn. I booked a room there.”

      Carley was sure her own eyes did some widening. “Since when?”

      “Since this morning.”

      Good grief. No one ever told her anything. Here, Sloan had booked a room with one of her parents’ employees, and no one had thought it important to let her know that a Texas Ranger was going to be staying practically right next door to her.

      There was another jingle of the brass bell, followed by footsteps. No cowboy boots this time. Those were dainty, almost delicate steps.

      Carley couldn’t see their visitor, but judging from the looks of pure dread on both Sloan’s and Jim’s faces, this wouldn’t be a good encounter. Carley figured it was probably Donna Hendricks.

      But Carley was wrong.

      “Jim,”