by Vella Day
The sheriff cleared his throat. “Clinton DuPree.”
“Sheriff.”
“I don’t suppose Margaret here told you her granddaughter is my deputy?”
Dax stole a glance at his potential employer. She smiled, looking innocent, and he tamped down his frustration. “No, she didn’t.” Talk about a wild goose chase. “So why did you hire me?” He tried not to show how pissed he was, but he failed.
“Because Sadie disappeared,” she stated.
“I mean, why me? Why not ask your granddaughter to look for her?”
Clinton DuPree leaned back in his chair with a smug look on his face and crossed his arms over his barrel chest.
“I… I didn’t want to worry Jessie. She has enough to do without searching every house for my friend. I figured you could do it faster, being a big city boy and all. Besides, you found that girl who’d been lost for weeks.”
The notoriety of that case had kept him busy for months. Dax turned back to the sheriff. “Any clues?”
The man took a sip of coffee, and the rich aroma nearly killed him. What he wouldn’t give for a cup now.
“Nope. Sadie’s not at home, I can tell you that. I called her sister in Wheeling, but she hasn’t heard from her either, and I asked around a bit here but got nowhere.” He looked back at Margaret. “It’s not like Sadie hasn’t gone off before, you know. Right Margaret?”
Margaret Nash huffed. “That may be true, Clinton, but she always tells me if she plans on going somewhere. No, this time something bad has happened.”
Dax wanted to say that if the aliens had taken her friend, his employer surely couldn’t expect him to get her back, but he kept quiet.
Margaret grabbed his arm. “Let’s get out of here. We need to discuss this in private.” She snapped a look back at DuPree.
Dax shrugged then let her lead him into the bright sunshine. Holding on to the rail, she made her way down the three steps, hobbling as bad as he did. She said nothing until she got to the bottom then shielded her eyes. “You eaten?”
He couldn’t help but like her feisty attitude. “Nope.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Good food is down a block or two at The Sugar Shack.”
“Lead the way.”
* * *
Jessie Nash rubbed her aching back. She hadn’t planned on moving a gazillion boxes, a queen-sized bed, and a chest of drawers today, but since Lena Randall’s husband had run out on her and left her with nothing more than her income at the diner, someone had to help the poor girl move into a cheaper place.
Lena swiped the sweat from her brow. “Can’t thank you enough, Jess, for helping.”
“Just doing my job.” Jessie was too embarrassed to say, What are friends for? She didn’t do well with mush and sloppy sentiment. Give her cold, hard facts anytime and she’d be happy.
“Well, I don’t see Sheriff DuPree helping.”
Jess laughed. “Right. Coal will spontaneously turn into diamonds before that day comes.” That got a laugh out of Lena.
A law enforcer’s job was to keep the peace, sure, but Jessie wanted to help the community more than that, though she didn’t remember any stories where her father or grandfather ever did moving duty when they were the town’s sheriff.
“I really have to go, Lena. Call me if you need anything else.”
“Sure.” Lena’s smile came out weak.
As Jess hopped in her cruiser, all she could think about was taking a long, hot shower. Her shirt clung to her chest, despite the temperature being in the fifties.
Fifteen minutes later, she pulled down her dirt drive. Nana’s Cadillac sat in its usual spot, but next to it was a beat-to-shit truck with Maryland plates. Sure the state abutted West Virginia, but Kerry didn’t get many visitors, and her grandmother received even less. Jessie wouldn’t find out the identity of the visitor by sitting there, so she jumped out of the cruiser and raced up the steps, the front porch squeaking as she trod across the old boards.
Gotta get those fixed. Right. As soon as the tooth fairy left her some money.
Jessie pushed open the front door. “Nana?”
The door to the kitchen swung open, and the smell of fresh cinnamon buns sent her stomach grumbling.
“’Bout time you got home,” Nana said, the door closing right behind her. She glanced up and stilled. “Oh, my, you look a mess.”
“Thanks, Nana.” If she wasn’t getting some cat down from a tree, she was breaking up a drunken brawl on Saturday night. “What else is new? I usually come home grungy.”
“We have company, and I don’t want him see you looking like you got in a fight and lost.”
“You’re exaggerating, Nana.” Jessie couldn’t help but laugh at the look of horror on her face. “So who’s here?”
“Go shower and put on a pretty dress.” Nana made a shooing motion.
A dress? Her grandmother had lost her mind. The last time she’d dressed up was when she’d buried her father.
The kitchen door popped open, and an amazing looking man stepped out with a cinnamon roll in his mouth. She wasn’t sure which made her mouth water more—him or the scent of the sweet roll.
He finished his bite. “Oh, hello.” His dark eyes twinkled—make that incredibly deep, brown eyes as rich as leather.
She tried to form a few words, but her whole body turned to cement, and her usually chatty mouth wouldn’t work. “Hel-hello.” Shit. She hated it when she stuttered. “Who are y-you?”
Nana swatted at her. “Don’t be rude, Jess. He’s my guest.”
The unnamed man smiled, looking kind, gentle, and surprisingly trustworthy. “Mrs. Nash hired me to find her friend, Sadie Palmer.” His voice sounded educated with a slight Southern twang.
He licked his forefinger and stuffed his hands in his worn jeans pocket. The denim hugged his lean hips like a strawberry dipped in chocolate. She hadn’t seen a man this good looking in a long time—if ever.
His comment sunk in and anger rushed up her belly. She twirled toward her grandmother. “You hired someone to find Sadie? You know the sheriff is looking into her disappearance, and I’m helping.”
“That old fart couldn’t find his ass in the dark.”
Jess’s face heated up. “Nana, watch your mouth.”
Her grandmother shook her head. “It’s true and you know it. Besides, I didn’t want to bother you. You don’t have the time.”
Of late, she had been swamped with work. “I’m planning to look tomorrow. Even you have to admit Sadie’s probably off on one of her quests. Don’t you remember the last time she left?” Jessie didn’t wait for a response. “She flew to Las Vegas on a gambling junket and told no one—not even her bestest friend.”
Nana glared at her. “This is different.”
“Is not.” Jessie didn’t want to admit something bad could have happened to Sadie. She cared a lot for the old lady, but the facts were adding up to indicate something had.
Jess turned back and studied the tall stranger. What was Nana thinking hiring him? She bet he cost a fortune, and if they didn’t have enough money to fix up the house, they didn’t have any to spare on a private investigator. Though from the way he was dressed, and the condition of his truck, it didn’t look like he held many jobs. She could only hope he came cheap, or was maybe even free.
“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake,” she said with as much sympathy as possible.
The man had the audacity to smile, and crinkles formed around his sexy eyes. On him, wrinkles looked good. On her, all of her lines made her look old—or as old as a twenty-nine-year old could look.
He stepped forward. “Dax Mitchell.”
He held out a hand, and she took it. “Jessie Nash.”
His clasp was solid, assured, and nice. As he pulled his hand away, she noticed his nails were clean and trimmed. While his jeans were tattered, his loose fitting sweater was nice. Too bad they probably covered a few bulging muscles, preventing her from seeing all of his shape. He s
melled nice too, like fresh springtime with a hint of spice.
Stop it, Jessie.
He cleared his throat. “It’s getting dark. I’ll start looking around first thing tomorrow morning for your friend, Mrs. Nash. I’ll need a room for the night, so if you could recommend a hotel in town, I’d appreciate it.” He glanced from Nana to Jessie.
Nana stepped forward and grabbed his arm. “You’ll do no such thing, young man. You’ll stay right here.” She wagged a finger at him. “And no arguments.” She turned to Jess. “Fix up the room next to yours, okay, dear?” she said, just as sweet as could be.
Before Jess could protest, a misfiring engine raced up the drive, the brakes squeaking as the car came to a halt.
Feet pounded on the porch, followed by loud knocking. “Deputy Nash,” he yelled through the front door.
Jessie would deal with the new houseguest in a moment. She raced to the door and pulled it open. Bradley Williams, a man who worked at the Coal Mine Bar, stood rigid, his eyes darting right and left.
“What happened?” Her blood pressure soared.
“Someone killed the sheriff.”
Chapter Two
When Jessie’s knees buckled, Dax reached out to keep her from falling, but she managed to steady herself on the doorjamb before he could lend a hand.
“Ohmigod. C-Clinton’s d-dead? When, how, where?” Jessie’s body stiffened.
Brad wrung his hands and glanced to the ground. “I’m not sure. I just got to the bar and was taking the garbage out back when I saw him lying there.” His face contorted. “He… he had lots of blood on his forehead and everywhere.”
The man’s face paled, and Dax’s homicide detective instincts kicked in. “Are you sure he was dead?”
Jessie looked up at Dax, acting a little startled, as though she’d forgotten he was standing next to her.
Brad ran his gaze from the top of Dax’s head down to his scuffed up boots and back again. “Sure, I’m sure. His eyes were open.” He puffed out his chest.
The man was defensive but confident. That was a good sign.
“Did you touch the body or move him?” Jessie asked.
Brad straightened. “I shook him to see if he was drunk or something. That’s all.”
“Then you came right here?”
“No. I ran inside, got a tarp, and tossed it over him so no animals would mess with him.” He glanced down. “The sheriff doesn’t deserve to have anyone see him like that. It ain’t respectful.”
“Thank you, Brad,” Jessie said. “I appreciate you coming all this way to t-tell me.”
“Thought you should hear it in person.” The anxious man looked relieved his ordeal might be over. “Can I go now?” he asked.
“Sure. I’ll stop by later and take your official statement once I check out the scene.”
Poor Jessie. Her pretty face had paled and from the way she was rubbing her hands up and down her legs, this news had understandably devastated her. The informant spun around and sprinted back to his car. Dax found it odd that the man would run, but if he’d had anything to do with the sheriff’s death, he wouldn’t have told DuPree’s deputy about the murder in the first place.
Jessie looked up at Dax again, her green eyes shining and her face tight. She appeared to be using all her inner strength to hold in her grief.
Brad’s tires spun down the dirt drive, and his engine misfired once more.
Jessie visibly shook. “Nana, can you call Doc and tell him to meet me behind the bar?”
Dax removed his cell from his pocket and held it out. “You want to use my phone?” Jessie might be able to explain the situation better than her grandmother.
She waved a hand. “They don’t work here since we don’t have any cell towers nearby—at least not yet.”
No reception? He wasn’t used to being in an area without service and not having it might hinder his investigation.
“I can’t believe it,” Margaret said rising slowly from the sofa, her face slack. “We were just talking to him.” She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “Who would do this to Clinton? Everyone loved him.”
Apparently not everyone.
“Nana, I have to check on Clinton.” She rushed to the closet, slipped on a jacket, and as she reached for her service weapon on the side table, knocked it off. When it bounced on the floor, Jessie sucked in a breath, scurried to it, and snatched it up. Her pretty face reddened.
Turning her back to both of them, she slid her piece in the empty holster, and then faced Dax. “Good luck finding Sadie.”
He couldn’t tell if she was still pissed that her grandmother had asked for his help, or if she was relieved she didn’t have to deal with a missing person when she had a murder on her hands.
“I can help investigate the murder if you’d like.”
Oh, Christ. His inner censor must have thought he’d issued a cease-and-desist order on thinking. He’d planned to stay only long enough to find the missing woman, but something about Jessie had drawn him in. She seemed focused and caring, two traits he admired.
Be honest, Mitchell. She’s hot.
She waved him off. “That’s all right. We can handle it.”
He shoved down his relief until her words registered. “We? Is there another deputy on the force?” There had been only two desks in the sheriff’s office.
Her jaw clenched. “No, I guess I forgot it’s just me now.” She pulled open the door and a blast of cold air rushed in.
“Have you ever handled a homicide before?” Dax asked.
Her shoulders stiffened. Way to go, Mitchell. The chances of many homicides in this small town were slim, so it was wrong to rub her inexperience in her face.
“No.”
He admired her honesty, and a bit of guilt mixed with his need to help. “Then I’m coming with you.”
He figured he’d get nowhere locating Sadie until this case was solved because folks from small towns tended to focus on one major event at a time. They wouldn’t be forthcoming with information until their sheriff’s murderer was caught and brought to justice.
Her shoulders sagged, looking as if she carried the weight of the world. She spun around to face him. “Suit yourself, but we take separate cars.”
She seemed too upset to drive. “Why?”
She blew out a breath. “I might have to stay all night, and I don’t want you to have to hang around. I know you need to find Sadie.” She shot a sympathetic glance back at her grandmother.
He liked that she was thinking again. “That works.”
Jessie looked over at her grandmother. “Stay by the phone, Nana. Okay? I might need you. And don’t forget to call Doc.”
Margaret’s face lit up. “Sure, honey, just be careful. You want to take some rolls with you?”
“I’m not hungry any more, but thanks.”
Jessie raced to her cruiser before he made it to his truck. She slipped in and then glanced over her shoulder. While she couldn’t help notice his limp, she showed no signs of disgust at his condition. Perhaps the town folk often came back injured from the war, but he bet not many had been as close as he’d been to a landmine.
During the four-mile drive to town, Dax was barely able to keep up with her. Lights flashing, she whipped around corners faster than a racecar driver, and what was left of his shock absorbers took a beating.
Once they reached the main drag, he checked the streets, looking for something suspicious. The Sugar Shack sign still flickered, and despite sampling the batch of cinnamon rolls, his stomach needed filling. He’d have to stop and buy something to eat before he headed back to Mrs. Nash’s.
He must not have been paying close enough attention because one minute Jessie was right in front of him and the next she’d disappeared. He made a quick right turn down a dark alley and nearly clipped his front bumper on a boarded up building in the process. Shit. The narrow rutted road bounced him around as he ate her dust, and he wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into. The two-story bu
ildings on his right and left closed in on him, and his heart raced. He pressed his foot to the pedal, needing to get out of the confining space before the panic consumed him.
Jessie made it through the gauntlet in one piece, whipped around the end of the building, and once more disappeared from sight. Dax shot through the darkness to the same back alley where a few lights above some doors sporadically lit the roadway. The moment he turned the corner, he let out a long held breath.
As he pulled to a stop behind Jessie, she stepped out of her cruiser. The top of her head might only come to his shoulder but without a doubt, the woman had the longest legs he’d ever seen.
In need of fresh air and a clearer head, Dax swung out of his truck and scoped out the alley and the surrounding buildings. A sign on a door next to where Jessie had parked read, “Coal Mine Bar entrance. No parking.”
In order to effectively analyze the scene, he couldn’t have his leg pain distract him, so Dax stretched his thigh before making any sudden moves. As he headed toward Jessie, a whiff of rancid garbage made his nose wrinkle.
She must have smelled it too, because she rushed over to the dumpster and peered around it. She bent over and moved something. She then stalked off to the far end of the building before striding back.
With her hands planted on her hips and her feet wide, her gaze continued to sweep the area. “What the hell?” she said to no one in particular, looking like a spitfire ready to explode.
Dax reached the dumpster a second later. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong. The body’s not here.” The expression on her face said, Don’t mess with this woman.
The wind picked up and some of her pretty brown curls escaped her ponytail and framed her face. Her comment finally sunk in. “Missing? Are you sure?” Dax waved a hand. “Maybe the sheriff was merely unconscious when Brad found him and your boss woke up and walked away.”
A hint of hope flashed across her face. “Do you think that’s what happened?”
“It’s possible.”
