“That seems likely.”
“Because?”
“Like I said, it was my job to investigate. And if I went out there and ended up with my ass in a sling, they could go after you.”
She winced as she followed his logic. “Let me clean your face. Close your eyes.”
When he’d complied, she lifted her hand, pressing the wet cloth against the wound before gently wiping away the blood.
“It’s not deep, right?” he asked.
“No.” She cleaned both wounds on his face. “Keep your eyes closed so I can disinfect the cuts.”
As he stood before her with his eyes shut and his face badly scratched, he looked more vulnerable than she had ever seen him.
Fighting the urge to gently touch his lips, she grabbed a premedicated packet and tore it open, extracting the pad inside and carefully wiping the wound over his eye and then the one on his forehead.
“Thanks,” he said in a husky voice when she had finished.
“There are the ones on your chest and your arms.”
“I can do those.”
Knowing that was the smart course of action, she took a step back and to the side, giving him access to the sink. Maybe she should leave and give him some privacy, but she couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened to him because of her. He might say the attack was directed at him, but that was only because he was guarding her.
“You say it was aimed at you. But we’ve only been here for a couple of days.”
“Did you ever come down here alone?” he asked.
“A few times.”
“Okay.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just responding. Did anything ever happen when you were here?”
“I came back once because the guy who rents the fields from my father complained that someone had vandalized his tractor.”
His head swung toward her, his mind obviously focused on business now. “You never mentioned that.”
“I didn’t think it was important. I mean come on, what does a vandalized tractor have to do with Angela’s murder?”
He made a huffing sound. “Maybe nothing. But in light of the barbed-wire trap, we have to consider that everything’s important.”
She didn’t like the way he said that.
“It was a few months ago. And it didn’t seem relevant,” she repeated, hating the way he’d so easily put her on the defensive.
“Uh-huh.”
He kept working on the cuts on his chest and arm, first washing them as she had done with his face and then using the disinfectant.
“Do you think you need an antibiotic?” she asked.
“No.”
“And you’re up to date on your tetanus shots?”
“We all stay up to date on those. I mean me and my partners,” he clarified.
He had brought a dark T-shirt with him, and he picked it up.
“Wait a minute.”
“Why?”
“One of the cuts on your chest is still bleeding.”
Despite her previous decision not to touch him again, she pulled a square compress from the box, pulled away the adhesive backing, and pressed it to the cut, her hand resting against his warm skin for a moment, feeling his heart beating steadily but perhaps a little fast.
“I guess I didn’t think about pulling it off again,” she said as she noted the way it was stuck to his skin.
“My punishment for walking into the barbed wire in the first place.”
“You couldn’t see it in the dark.”
“Yeah. I guess that was the idea.”
“It was a mean trick.”
“Right again. Which suggests we’re dealing with someone who doesn’t mind hurting people.”
She dragged in a breath and let it out. “Do you think it has something to do with the murders?”
“I wish I knew for sure. It could be that the people who were murdered were harassed first, but we can’t exactly interview them to find out. And I didn’t consider that we’d need to interview the man who rents the farm property. What’s his name?”
“Bill Yeager.”
“And where does he live?”
“On the next property over.”
“Okay.”
“Why would vandalizing his tractor have anything to do with me?”
“Well, I was thinking that this farm is valuable land. What if someone wanted to encourage you to sell?”
“I hadn’t thought about that.”
“We can’t discount it.” He changed back to another line of speculation. “Did Angela mention anything to you about being harassed?”
She thought before she answered. “Not specifically, but I got the feeling she was nervous about something.”
“What?”
“She never said. And I didn’t press her.”