“Great, spend half the morning trying to decipher a crime scene and no one had the decency to brew a fresh pot of coffee,” He grumbled to himself.
The Chief did not look pleased as he hung up the phone. “Russell, please tell me you have something. The mayor is breathing down my neck on this,” The older man exclaimed as he popped two aspirins in his mouth.
Detective Russell informed him of all the current developments, some of which made the Chief’s eyebrows rise up in wonder, and then he broached the subject of Charles Wingate’s daughter.
“I feel like she should be notified in person. I could drive there and be back before my next shift. I think she might be instrumental in piecing this together,” he said as he took another drink of the stale coffee. “I would like to run a check on her before leaving though. The maid said that her mother had been murdered and you know how I am. I like to know the answers before I ask the questions.” The Chief gave a knowing nod as Brian left the office to get to work.
Hmmm…five foot five, one hundred and thirty pounds, blonde hair and green eyes. No speeding tickets, no record criminal record. Cheyenne Wingate was squeaky clean; however, her mother’s criminal history was littered with petty crimes. According to the report, she had moved over fifty times during Cheyenne’s childhood. Her murder case was still unresolved but had been classified cold in the last five years. Something caught the curious detective’s eye. Cheyenne apparently had a younger brother. He was stunned that the maid, who seemed to know everything about everyone, had failed to mention him. Feeling confident with the amount of information he was able to gather, Brian tied up his loose ends at the office and left to find Cheyenne Wingate.
Brian Russell was a loner. At thirty-four, he was on track to advance in his career, which was all that he had at this point. He had no family to speak of and preferred it like that. In his line of work, he figured the less collateral damage the better. He could do his job freely without worrying about anyone else. His last relationship had been six years before and did not miss the constant pull to leave the force. Not many women could handle the stress that comes with a job such as his. He was content with the solitude of his life and planned to keep it that way.
Detective Russell arrived in Slidell, Louisiana, right at three o’clock. He quickly found her address. Looking down, he noticed that his knuckles had turned white against the pressure of his grip in the steering wheel and his stomach was doing somersaults. He realized that within the next few minutes he would be unraveling this poor woman’s life. Any stability she had known previously would be gone. With words that would cut like a knife, he would inform her of her father’s death. He would take something away from her that she never even had. Brian Russell searched in vain for a delicate way to tell her. Deciding that sticking to the facts was the only way to go, he exited the truck and approached the front door. He knocked on the screen door and waited for a response from inside. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He saw her at the barn and walked back toward his truck to get a better view.
Cheyenne Wingate was at the barn saddling her favorite horse when he first saw her. He watched as she swung onto the back of the paint pony and tore out across the field, clearly loving the feel of sheer power between her legs. The freedom that came with riding complemented her. It looked as though it would help anyone forget their troubles, temporarily at least. She did not seem to have a care in the world when she was on his back. Detective Russell watched in amazement. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Temporarily forgetting his grim duty, he absorbed the sight of her in her natural environment. Her long hair was pulled through the back of her cap and bounced down her back as she rode with wild abandon. He could tell that she was an experienced horsewoman. The sight of seeing her astride this large beast turned him on. He had not felt this type of a stir in his body for quite a while. Focus Brian! You aren’t here for a sightseeing trip, you have to inform this poor girl that her father has been murdered, he coached himself.
Cheyenne and her horse galloped through the gate toward him. She slowed her pony to a trot as she approached the stranger. He was about six foot tall and definitely wore his Stetson well. As she got closer, her brow furrowed and it was clear that he had piqued her curiosity. His boots were scuffed but that only added to his rugged charm. She slid to a stop in front of him and asked, “Can I help you with something?” Her accent drove him wild. It was a mix of a sexy southern drawl with just a hint of Cajun dialect.