The Bad Daughter(99)
“Melanie,” Prescott said, a rare note of tenderness creeping into his voice, “you can’t account for Landon’s whereabouts on the night of the shooting, can you?”
Melanie said nothing. She didn’t have to. Her face said it all.
“One person is dead,” he continued, “and your father and a twelve-year-old girl were grievously injured. Now, I understand your desire to protect your son, but continuing to lie to us is not only not protecting him—it could get him killed.”
Melanie stared blankly ahead. It was several seconds before she spoke. “He wasn’t having a very good day,” she began in a voice not her own. “He was rocking and pacing. He wouldn’t talk to me. He wouldn’t draw or look at his comic books. I couldn’t get him to calm down. I phoned Donny…”
“Donny Warren?” the sheriff asked, looking perplexed.
“Donny’s always been very good with him. They go for rides on his motorbike; they go horseback riding. He knows how to reach him when I can’t. So I called him, told him I was worried. He came right over, took Landon back to his ranch.”
“You’re saying that Landon was with Donny Warren that night?”
“Yes.”
“All night?”
“I don’t know. I was exhausted, so I took a sleeping pill and went to bed.”
“So you have no idea what time Landon came home.”
Melanie shook her head no.
Robin struggled to make sense of what was happening. Tara’s jewelry had been found in Landon’s room, implicating him in Tara’s murder. Her sister had just admitted that Landon had been with Donny Warren for at least part of that night, implicating Donny as well. What did it mean? “What about Alec?” she asked. If Landon was with Donny that night, wouldn’t that exonerate her brother?
“They could have all been working together,” the sheriff said, squashing that hope like a bug underfoot. “Cassidy couldn’t say for sure how many men were in the house that night. And don’t forget about the ski mask the San Francisco police found in your brother’s apartment.”
“Which could be a coincidence.”
“Never cared much for coincidences in murder investigations,” the sheriff said, moving to the bedroom door.
“But Donny didn’t even know Alec,” Melanie protested. “It doesn’t make sense. What motive would he possibly have? What motive would Landon have?”
The sheriff didn’t answer, but Robin guessed that he was thinking it was probably personal for Alec and financial for Donny. Maybe some sort of combination of the two as far as Landon was concerned. Or maybe Landon had been nothing more than a convenient pawn, someone they used so they could get into the house without arousing suspicion.
“What happens now?” Blake asked.
“We pay Donny a visit. He has no idea what’s happened here or that we found anything. Hopefully we’ll find Landon and Cassidy. Fingers crossed that nobody’s done anything stupid and that the girl’s all right.”
Oh, God. Cassidy…
“I’m coming with you,” Melanie said, scrambling to her feet.
“No, you’re not.”
“You’ll scare Landon. He’s liable to panic…I don’t want him hurt. Please. I might be able to help.”
Robin thought it was the first time she’d ever heard her sister plead for anything. “We’re coming, too,” she said, and Blake nodded his agreement.
Prescott sighed. “All right. But you’ll all stay back and do exactly what I say. Do I have your word?”
Robin and Blake nodded their assent, and Melanie agreed half a beat later.
The sheriff assigned one of the deputies to stay at the house in case Landon and Cassidy returned. He dispatched another to the courthouse to get a search warrant for Donny’s house and property, and then he and the remaining deputies got into their cars. Blake climbed behind the wheel of his Lexus, and Robin got into the backseat beside her sister.
Tears streamed down Melanie’s cheeks, and Robin instinctively reached over to take her hand.
To her shock, Melanie didn’t pull away.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Donny Warren’s Harley was parked in its usual spot at the side of the cabin when the small procession of cars turned onto his property. His old Chevy was parked down the road, closer to the barn.
“Looks like he’s home,” Melanie said as Blake pulled his car to a stop behind the sheriff.
The smell of horses hit Robin as soon as she opened her car door and she sneezed four times, one sneeze immediately following the other.
“Bless you,” Melanie said as they got out of the car.
“I’m going to need you to stay back here,” the sheriff told them.
“What about Landon?”
“If I need you, I’ll call you.”
“Please don’t hurt him,” Melanie begged.
Robin watched Prescott pivot toward the small log cabin, his deputies behind him, hands on their holsters as they neared the front door. Her eyes scanned the horizon, but she saw nothing besides acres of dried and yellowing grass. There were no riders in the distance, happily galloping across the barren expanse. If Landon and Cassidy were here, they were inside either the house or the barn, she thought, staring in that direction.