by Donna Ball
“Then why—”
“Oh, for the love of …” He blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m not breaking up with you, Raine. I’m trying to keep you out of a lawsuit!”
The breath went out of my lungs and I sat back hard in the chair. “What?”
Across two continents, I could almost see him thrusting his fingers through his short, spiky hair, tightening his lips, choosing his words. The only thing I’d ever known that could upset Miles’s equilibrium was Melanie, so I think I knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“Melanie’s mother has been in touch with her lawyers in the States,” he said finally. “She’s suing for full custody of Melanie by trying to have me declared an unfit parent.”
I gasped. “But—she can’t do that! That’s absurd, Miles, how can she say that? You’re the most devoted father I’ve ever known. No court is ever going to believe her. It’s ridiculous!”
“Thanks, sweetheart.” His voice sounded tired, almost grim. “But I’m afraid the court might not see it that way. The fact is that …” He seemed reluctant to go on, but he must have known there was no point in delaying the inevitable. He finished, “Since she’s been with me, Melanie has been interviewed by the police at a drug bust, she’s been kidnapped, and she’s been held hostage at gunpoint. I don’t know. Maybe her mother is right. Maybe Melanie is better off with her.”
I felt my fingertips start to tingle, and my cheeks grew cold. It was a moment before I could even speak. “But …” The word came out as barely a croak and I tried again. “But none of that is your fault! Those things … those things all happened because of me. Oh Miles,” I whispered as the full weight of the truth sank in. “You’re going to lose your daughter because of me.”
“Raine, that’s not …”
“Oh my God.” I caught my breath. “That’s what the private detective is about. That’s why she’s having me investigated!”
“What are you talking about?” he demanded sharply. “What private detective?”
“Miles,” I said quickly. “Miles, listen to me.” My breath was coming fast and light, and so were my words because I knew if I didn’t get them out quickly they would lodge in my throat and choke me. “You can’t see me anymore. I can’t be in Melanie’s life. I’m the one who’s a danger to her, not you. You can’t lose Mel. You have to break up with me. There are lots of other women out there. You’ll find somebody better. But you have to …”
“Oh, for God’s sake,” he muttered.
I hurried on, “You know it’s true. It was never going to work out between us anyway, we’re just too different, and it’s not worth it. Nothing is worth losing Melanie …”
“Raine, stop talking,” he said harshly, and I did. “We’re not having this conversation now. I’m not losing my daughter. I’m going to deal with this, but first I have to get her out of this damn country. I’ll talk to you when I get back. In the meantime, could you not do anything rash? Could you do me that one favor and for once in your life not do anything rash?”
“Miles …”
“When I get back,” he repeated firmly, and he disconnected the phone.
I sat there, staring at the phone in my hand, not entirely sure what had just happened. I started to call him back, but what I would say? I had just broken up with him.
Hadn’t I?
The phone rang in my hand and I jumped, instinctively pressing the “accept call” button and answering a little breathlessly. I was so sure it was Miles that I didn’t even understand the meaning of the first few words that were spoken.
“Stockton,” the woman’s voice said brusquely. “Jolene Smith from the sheriff’s department. The sheriff said I should call as a matter of professional courtesy to inform you of the status of this morning’s victim, Mrs. April Madison. I’m sorry to say she succumbed to her injuries at 14:35 this afternoon.”
I blinked, trying to focus. My voice was hoarse. “What?”
Jolene replied, “She didn’t make it.”
I said weakly, “Oh.” Unbidden, my gaze moved to Cameo. She was sleeping now, her head resting on the floor boards next to Cisco’s, untroubled. She had done her best.
Jolene seemed to hesitate and then said, “We found blood on one of the posts at the overlook. We’re waiting for forensics, but if it turns out to be Madison’s we’ll be opening a homicide investigation. I’ll be out to interview your employee in the next day or two about what he saw at the campground. Meantime, you’ll let me know if you remember anything that could pertain to this case.”
I pulled my gaze away from Cameo, trying to concentrate on what Jolene had said. “Um, wait a minute,” I said. “There might be something.”
“What?” she demanded, rather impatiently.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to massage away the headache that was forming there. “Do you remember I told you about the dog? April Madison’s dog?”
“Stockton, I don’t have time …”
“She had a tracking device in her collar,” I went on, speaking over her. “At least, I thought it was a tracking device. Turns out it was a transmitter. You know, like a bug.”
She was silent for a moment. When she spoke her tone was skeptical. “In the dog’s collar.”
“That’s right.”
“How do you know what it was?”
“I showed it to my uncle. You know, the former sheriff?” I couldn’t resist that one. “He was with Marshall Becker. He’s the one—”
“I know who he is,” Jolene broke in, annoyed.
“Anyway, he said it’s the kind that not only tracks and transmits, but also records. I was thinking that if Tony Madison suspected his wife of having an affair, he might have planted the bug to prove it. And if he got the proof …”
“That might also be motive for murder,” Jolene murmured. Then, briskly, “I’ll need to take the device into evidence. Where is it?”
“I still have it.” I glanced at my watch. “I can bring it by the office in about half an hour. I have to run an errand for my aunt first.” I hadn’t really planned to go back out today, but if I dropped the quilt off at the fairgrounds on my way into town it would save me a trip in the morning. Besides … I looked unhappily at the remainder of my sandwich, my appetite now completely gone. I had nothing better to do.
She seemed to debate for a moment whether the best use of her time was to follow protocol and drive all the way out in the country to collect the evidence from me, or to bend the rules a little and allow me to bring it in to her. Then she said, “Half an hour.” She disconnected.
~*~
I don’t usually take the dogs with me on rides this time of year, but after losing Cameo once I was not at all comfortable leaving her at home alone. It went without saying that I couldn’t take Cameo anywhere without also taking Cisco, so I crated Pepper, Mischief, and Magic, loaded up Cisco and Cameo in the backseat of the SUV, and started for town.
To me, there is nothing prettier than a lighted Ferris wheel at dusk, and the sight of it turning so gracefully against the blue-gray sky as we approached the fairgrounds was enough to soothe my jangled nerves. Tonight was opening night of the county fair, and even though the contest judging and entertainment events wouldn’t officially begin until tomorrow, the parking lot was almost full when I pulled in. I showed my pass and drove around the dirt path to the lot that was reserved for staff and volunteers. It was located behind the carnival attractions, on the edge of a wide weedy field that was surrounded by woods.. There were a some equipment trailers and supply trucks parked at the far end of the field, where they would remain until the fair closed down next weekend. I parked in the shade behind the carousel, rolling down all the windows halfway before I got out. The sound of calliope music and the smell of popcorn floated in through the open windows and suddenly I was hungry again. Suddenly I missed Miles, and Melanie, so intensely that it hurt.
I had no time to feel sorry for myself, however. The temperature had dropped to the se
venties, which felt cool after the scorching day, but I knew the dogs would not be comfortable in the car for very long, and Jolene was waiting for me. I shook off the emptiness with a single deep breath and got out.
“Five minutes, guys,” I promised, and I hurried around the car to get the quilt out of the back.
As I closed the door and punched “lock” on my key fob—which was a little silly, since anyone could just reach inside and unlock the doors—I remembered the evidence in my glove box. It was locked, of course, but with the windows open it didn’t feel secure to me. So I went back, removed the little button from the car, and tucked it securely into the zippered pocket inside my purse. “Five minutes,” I repeated to the dogs, relocked the car, and left at a trot.
It could not have taken me more than five minutes to find the church booth, admire the display of crafts the Women’s Auxiliary was selling, and help Mrs. Whitaker hang the quilt with clothespins from the rope that had been strung across the back of the booth. She thanked me all the while and assured me I didn’t have to make a special trip, that tomorrow would have been soon enough, and I assured her it was no trouble at all and I was happy to help. I made my escape with a wave and a promise to stop back by tomorrow to buy something.
I paused to wave at Sonny, who was working the Humane Society booth with Hero, and called, “Can’t stop! Dogs in the car!” She waved back, sending me on my way, and I walked quickly back toward the car.
There was a crowd at the carousel and I edged my way through, holding on to the strap of my shoulder bag. Shrill-voiced children bounced up and down, pointing toward the horse they wanted to ride while moms and dads jostled for their places and tried to keep their cool. There was a guy in a red-striped hat hawking bags of peanuts, and one of the Rotary Club men, dressed in a tuxedo, moved through the crowd doing magic tricks with coins and cards. I saw the clown, but I paid him very little notice. I saw a lot of things.
I had mostly made my way through the press and was headed toward the dirt path that led toward the back gate when someone bumped me hard. I started to turn and then someone grabbed my purse. I yelled, “Hey!” and grabbed back, whirling. I had a brief, startled glimpse of fuzzy red hair, a polka-dot bow-tie, a clown mask, and then my legs were kicked out from under me and I went down hard in the gravel.
When I looked up the clown, and my purse, were gone.
CHAPTER TEN
“I already told you,” I said to Mike, the deputy who was interviewing me. I winced as the paramedic dabbed at my bloody knee with an alcohol-soaked pad. “He was wearing jeans and a tee shirt of some kind. A polka-dot bow tie that looked like it was part of the clown face. And it wasn’t a regular painted-on clown face. It was a mask, like …”
“Like this one?” Deke, one of Buck’s top deputies, pushed into the small first-aid tent with a latex mask in his hand, complete with attached fuzzy red wig and a sewn-on yellow polka-dot tie.
“That’s it!” I brushed away the ministrations of the paramedic and got to my feet excitedly, barely restraining myself from reaching for the evidence. “Where’d you find it?”
“They sell them at a booth right near the entrance.” Deke ignored me and spoke to Mike. “We found this one in the trash can next to the corn-dog stand.”
“See if anybody saw the man who threw it away,” Mike said.
“Maybe the owner of the booth remembers who bought it,” I suggested, and Mike gave me a barely tolerant look. Most of the guys at the department liked me okay, but none of them appreciated it when I tried to help them do their jobs. Besides, this was a purse snatching, not a homicide, and I guessed they wouldn’t spend a whole lot of time trying to solve it. There would probably be a half dozen more before the fair was over.
The paramedic who was in charge of the first-aid tent said, “Do you want me to wrap that for you?”
I could only guess it had been a slow night for him. “I’m not six,” I replied impatiently. “It’s fine.” And then I added, because I knew I sounded rude, “Thanks.” The truth was, I had had ACL surgery on that knee last year and it really hurt. I limped a little as I moved toward the front of the tent. I saw someone approaching who made me very unhappy, and I looked at Mike.
“You radioed this in?” I said accusingly. “You couldn’t wait until your shift ended and write a report like a normal person?”
Now he was starting to look annoyed. “It’s procedure.”
The paramedic said, “You should get a tetanus shot.”
I waved him off distractedly. “I’m up to date.” In my line of work I got a tetanus shot every year whether I needed it or not.
Jolene drew up before me, hands on her utility belt, glowering. “I might’ve known.” She looked me up and down, then turned to Mike. “What happened?”
Mike looked uneasy, as he often did in the presence of Jolene. “Looks like a simple purse snatching to me. Deke’s out talking to witnesses, but we don’t have much. I didn’t know they were going to call in the K-9.”
But even as he spoke Jolene swiveled her head back to me, her nostrils flaring, her gaze boring a hole through me. She said lowly, “Don’t tell me.”
“Well, what I was supposed to do?” I shot back. “I was on my way to bring it to you! How did I know someone was going to steal my purse?”
She turned sharply back to Mike. “This is a priority. I want that thief. More importantly, I want the purse.”
Mike hesitated. He and Deke were assigned to the fair and had caught the case; she wasn’t his boss. He made the mistake of sounding a little too condescending as he said, “We’re doing what we can, Deputy, but you know as well as I do the chances are pretty slim. Most of the time it’s just a random thing, some kid …”
She muttered, “Oh, for God’s sake.”
Jolene swung away to say something into her radio, and Mike gave me a small shrug. He was getting no sympathy from me, though. This might be a routine matter to him, but it was my purse that had been stolen.
My spirits rose considerably when I stepped out of the tent and saw Sonny approaching on her motorized scooter. She was dressed in an ankle-length, flowered gauze skirt and wore her silvery hair in a long braid over one shoulder, with amethyst chandelier earrings that brushed her shoulders. She looked as regal as a gypsy queen, riding sidesaddle on the scooter, and people moved aside when she passed. Hero, in his red service dog vest, trotted along beside her, and on the other side were two gorgeous golden retrievers. There weren’t many dogs who would have walked so calmly through the crowd beside a motorized vehicle, and I was proud of the goldens for showing such good manners.
Still, I didn’t want to take a chance of causing an accident, so I waited until she brought the scooter to a stop before I hurried forward to take their leashes. “What good dogs!” I exclaimed. I bent to hug them, because kneeling was impossible. “Great dogs!”
“They were fine,” Sonny said. “I gave them some water, but they were in the shade and didn’t seem the least overheated.”
Sonny had been one of the first to arrive after bystanders pulled me to my feet and called 911. It was she who had insisted I go to the first-aid tent, instead of trying to chase down the thief as I had originally intended. I’d agreed only on the condition that she check on my dogs. Besides, even I knew that by then the thief was long gone, along with all my credit cards and cash.
“Thanks, Sonny.” I smiled at her gratefully as I straightened up, mostly because she understood that, after what had just happened, I wasn’t so much worried about the dogs’ comfort as I was just worried about them.
She said, concerned, “Are you okay, Raine? You look like you were mauled by a bear.”
I shrugged. “I’ll live.” And then my expression sobered as I glanced down at Cameo. “Her owner, the woman I found this morning in the gorge, didn’t make it.”
“Oh, how awful.” Her voice, and her expression, were filled with sympathy. Her gaze traveled to Cameo as well. “What’s going to happen to that beaut
iful dog?”
“I’ll try to call her dad again when I get home,” I said, “although I hate to bother him at a time like this. I guess she’ll go home with him … if Jolene doesn’t arrest him first.”
She shot me a surprised look. “Really? Do the police think he was involved?”
I was about to answer when Cisco, who had been happily sniffing the ground with Cameo for dropped popcorn and other goodies, suddenly looked up, ears arcing and eyes alighting with excitement. I gave him a quick correction with the leash in anticipation of what I knew was about to happen, because as I always tell my students, the time to intervene is before your dog makes a mistake, not after. He all but ignored me, and, even more remarkable, ignored Cameo, who looked up from her sniffing to regard him curiously. There was only one person who could make Cisco act that way; only one person he loved as much as, if not more than, me. Sheriff Buck Lawson.
I wound an extra loop of leash around my hand and Cisco whimpered with joy, panting and grinning, as Buck approached. I heard Buck say to Jolene, “That won’t be necessary, Deputy.” He held up something to her, and I saw he had my purse in his hand.
Buck glanced at me, and I could see the blue mark that my hand had left across the top of his cheek bone. Cisco rose up on his back legs, pawing at the air, and Buck, noticing him, almost smiled. I stiffened my shoulders and set my jaw as he started toward me. Jolene followed a few steps behind.
Buck nodded at Sonny, “How’re you doing, Sonny?”
She replied pleasantly, “I’m fine, Buck. Surprised to see so many men working on a purse-snatching, though.”
“We don’t like to see this kind of thing get a handhold, first night of the fair and all.”
That was what he said. I think he came because he’d heard my name on the radio. He always came when he heard my name—not because of any particular tenderness, but because of some stupid machismo sense of responsibility that, over the years, had become a habit. Once Mike had told me that they had standing orders to notify the sheriff whenever a call came in from me, because I was family. That might’ve been true when my uncle was in charge, but it was clear Buck needed to make some changes. Especially now that he was married.
