He looked upset, she thought after a moment of observing him. His color was high and he kept looking toward the door as if waiting for someone to arrive.
Did he already know about his father? No, she couldn’t imagine it. Why would he linger here at the dance if he knew his father had just been killed?
After two or three minutes, Josh suddenly looked at his watch, then set down his cup on a nearby tray.
Rats. She was going to have to talk to him, she realized, as he started heading for the door. She waited until he walked out into the much cooler night air before she caught up to him.
“Are you Josh?”
He blinked a little, obviously startled to find a strange older woman talking to him. “Yeah,” he said slowly, not bothering to conceal his wariness.
“My name is Julie Osterman. I work at the Fortune Foundation with your mother’s cousin Susan.”
“Okay.” He took a sidestep away from her and she sighed.
“Josh, this is going to sound crazy, I know,” she began, “but I need you to stay here for a minute.”
“Why?”
She couldn’t tell him his father was dead. That job should fall to someone closer to him, someone with whom he had a relationship. “Your uncle is looking for you,” she finally answered. “He really needs to talk to you. If you can hang around here for a minute, he should be along any time now.”
She hoped.
“What’s going on?” His gaze sharpened. “Is it my mom?”
“Your mom isn’t hurt. Ross can explain everything when he gets here?”
“No. Tell me now. Is it Lyndsey? She was supposed to meet me here but she never showed and she’s not answering her phone. Is she hurt? What’s going on?”
“Josh—”
“Tell me!”
She was scrambling for words when a deep male voice spoke from behind her.
“It’s your dad, Josh.”
Chapter Three
She turned with vast relief to see Ross walking toward them, looking tall and solid and certainly strong enough to help his nephew through this.
The boy’s features hardened. “Did he hurt Mom again? If he did, I’ll kill him this time, I swear. I warned him I would.”
“You might not want to say that too loudly,” Ross said grimly. “Your father is dead, Josh.”
For all his bravado just seconds before, the teenager’s color drained at the words.
“Dead? That’s crazy.” Even as he spoke, Julie thought she saw something flicker in his brown eyes, something furtive, secretive.
“It’s true,” Ross said. “I’m sorry, Josh.”
The boy gazed at him blankly, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to respond.
“What happened?”
Ross cleared his throat. “We don’t know for sure yet.”
“Did he have a heart attack or a stroke or something? Was he hit by a bus? What?”
Ross sighed. His gaze met Julie’s for a moment and she saw indecision there as he must be weighing just how blunt he ought to be with his nephew.
She would have told him to be as honest as possible. Josh would find out all the gory details soon enough. In a town like Red Rock, the rumors would fly faster than crows on carrion. Better for him to hear the news from his family than for them to all dissemble about the situation, which he would probably find condescending and demeaning.
Ross must have reached the same conclusion. “It’s too early to say anything with a hundred percent certainty but it looks like he was murdered.”
“Murdered?” Josh blinked at both of them. “You’re kidding me, right? This is all some kind of a sick joke. People in Red Rock don’t get murdered!”
“I’m afraid it’s no joke,” Julie said, her voice soft with compassion.
“Who did it? Do they have any suspects?”
Ross’s gaze met Julie’s again with a wordless plea for help and she thought how surreal it was that just an hour ago they were wrangling over her purse, and now he was turning to her to help him through this delicate family situation.
It was hard enough telling Josh his father was dead. How were they supposed to tell Josh that his own mother was the prime suspect?
“They’re still investigating,” Ross said after a moment.
Josh pulled off his Stetson and raked a hand through his hair. “This is crazy. I can’t believe it,” he said again. “Where’s my mom? How is she taking this?”
“Uh, that’s the other thing I needed to talk to you about,” Ross said.
Fear leapt into his dark eyes and he turned to Julie with an accusation in his eyes. “You said my mom wasn’t hurt!”
“She’s not,” Ross assured him. “It’s just…Frannie had to go to the police station to answer some questions.”
Josh obviously wasn’t a stupid boy. He quickly put the pieces together. “Mom had to go for questioning? They think she killed him?”
“Josh—”
The color that had leached away at the news of his father’s death returned in a hot, angry flush. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard! If she had it in her to kill him, she would have done it years ago.”
If Julie hadn’t worked with troubled youth on a daily basis for the last five years, she might have found his bitterness shocking. Instead, she found it unutterably sad.
“They’re only questioning her. She’s not under arrest,” Ross said. “I’m sure they’ll figure out soon enough that your mom is innocent.”
“What about his girlfriend? Are they questioning her? Or his last girlfriend? Or the one before that? I could give them a whole damn list of suspects!”
“I’m sure they’ll question as many people as they can,” Julie said. Unable to help herself, she laid a comforting hand on the boy’s arm. Though by all appearances he despised his father, her heart ached at the pain she knew still waited for him down the road. Losing a parent was traumatic for anyone, no matter what their relationship.
Josh didn’t flinch away from her touch, but he remained focused on his mother and her predicament.
“I should go to her,” he said after a moment. “She’s going to need me.”
Ross couldn’t seem to look away from that soft, comforting hand Julie placed on his nephew’s arm. There was no good reason he could figure out that the sight should put a funny little ache in his chest.
He cleared his throat. “I promise, the police station is no place for you right now, Josh. You have to trust me on this.”
He, however, needed to get his butt over there as soon as possible to find out what was happening with the investigation. He was torn between dueling obligations, one to his sister and one to his nephew during this difficult time.
“I’ll be eighteen in two weeks, Uncle Ross. I’m not a child anymore.”
“I know that. But I’ve spent most of my adult life in police stations and I can tell you the best place for you is at home. I’ll go check