“You’ll be happy to know there have been no kidnappings reported for the past fifty years, however dog custody cases seem to have a special place in the citizens of Westen’s hearts.”
Gage sighed. She was making small talk to give him time to get his temper under control. Smart woman. “Mr. Waddle and Mrs. Turnbridge.”
“Seems those two have an ongoing battle over a Tennessee Blue Tick, whatever that is.”
“It’s a coon hound.”
“A coon hound?”
He smiled at her confusion. “A dog used for hunting raccoons.”
“Ah, I can see the need for this feud for the past thirty years. Wait, can a dog live that long?”
The left side of his mouth twitched into a half grin. “No, the feud isn’t over one particular dog, but breeding rights from the original litter they both owned when they were married.”
“Oh. Sort of like child custody suits. I get it.” There was a pause on the other end. The gears in her quick mind were grinding as she switched tracks. “So want to tell me what had you ready to bite my head off?”
“Sorry. That was just frustration talking.” He pulled off his sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m out at the Summit Trailer Park, the last known residence of one Rusty Davis.”
“Bad tip, huh?”
“No, there’s plenty of evidence this was his place. In fact, too much. It’s going to take hours to sift through this mess to see if there’s any lead as to where he is or who his supplier might be. That’s why I called.”
“You’re going to be stuck there and want me to go to the bank on my own?”
Even though her voice suggested she was teasing the idea gripped him tight in his mid-section. After last night’s mess at the hotel and Harley’s murder, he didn’t want her going anywhere by herself. No way was he going to let her go in the bank on her own and with no authority. He wanted this investigation official. He wanted some answers. No more secrets.
“What I need is for Cleetus to call in Daniel, Mike and Wes. Tell them I know it’s their day off or not their shift, but we’re going to need everyone’s help to find this guy. They’ll have to meet me here for instructions.” He repeated the address.
“Okay. Got that.”
There was a pause. He could almost see her writing down his every word. “As soon as they’re started here, you and I’ll head for the bank. In the meantime, give Clint a call and see if Teeny has woken yet. I need to find out if she has any idea where Rusty might be hiding.”
“I talked to Emma just a few minutes ago. She said Teeny is still out cold.”
“Damn. I’d hoped for a break somewhere. Maybe she’ll be awake by the time I get back to town.”
“I found something interesting in the files.”
“Really? What?”
“Seems your Dad was curious about Rusty or Rusty made it onto his radar somehow. He had a file on him. Of course Ruby had it hidden in a file marked persons of interest.”
“Dad never mentioned any of this to me.”
“Your dad probably didn’t want to burden you when you first came home. And I imagine it slipped his mind there at the end.”
Her understanding and sympathy brought a lump to his throat. “What did it say?”
“It just has his arrest record. Minor stuff—pot possession—and his military record. Seems Rusty was on the bomb disposal unit while over in the Gulf War. He had an honorable discharge.”
“Damn. I’ll bet he’s the meth cook. With that background he probably knows the chemicals to make it. He could also be our firebug. Okay, tell my deputies to get out here ASAP.”
“Yes, sir. By the way, ham or turkey?”
“Both. Why?” His stomach growled just to emphasize to his brain its barren state.
“Because while you’ve been out gallivanting all over the county, Cleetus and I have been very busy and need some sustenance. I’m going over to the Peaches ‘N Cream to get sandwiches, but didn’t know what you liked.”
Panic gripped his gut. Breathe. Relax. As much as he didn’t want her wandering about town on her own with a killer, an arsonist, and a woman-beater all on the loose, she was probably safe walking across the street to the café in broad daylight. Besides, no one messed with Lorna in her own restaurant.
“Tell you what. You order for both of us and I’ll meet you there as soon as you get those other deputies out here.”
“Your wish is my command, oh Sheriff, sir.” The laughter in her voice wiped out some of his worry. Maybe things weren’t so bad.
***
Things were spiraling out of control.
It all started when Harley saw the sheriff haul the woman out of the bank’s trash. The little worm had balked at the first sign of trouble and had to be dealt with. He’d worked very hard to stage it as an accident and it should’ve taken the sheriff weeks to find Harley’s body, not days.
The barn fire should’ve spread and consumed most of the Turnbill farm like a brushfire, so it could be swallowed up in another foreclosure, only it hadn’t. Deke Reynolds had called in the arson investigator, so now he couldn’t approach Turnbill with a buyout without raising suspicions. He needed all the farmland attached to the original property. The property his ancestors had been forced to sell.
To top it off the meth shipments were due in Columbus and Cincinnati at the end of the week. His partners paid half up front. He’d used the money to finance the land scheme and to buy the supplies his cook needed to make the product. With the last two pieces of property almost within his reach maybe it was time to tie up all the loose ends. The cook, Rusty, wouldn’t be a problem any longer. Soon, neither would the tweaker girlfriend. Hell, it was time to close production after this shipment and retire from the drug business.
Problem was, you didn’t mess with his partners. If he couldn’t deliver he was dead. Literally. Maybe, if he planned it right, he could convince his partners to look for a source elsewhere, and still finish acquiring the land this town stole from his family.
To top things off, that damn woman from out of town was snooping though files over at the sheriff’s.
He took out a handkerchief and wiped at the sweat dripping down his neck. He sat tapping his fingers one at a time on the top of his desk and stared out across Westen’s main street at the sheriff’s office.
It was his fault. He’d gotten greedy in the past year. The old sheriff took sick and his son stepped into the sheriff’s role. Distracted by his father’s illness, everyone knew Gage was just killing time in Westen until he could move on. The lax authority made the town ripe for the picking. And he’d picked property like apples off the ground. He’d made promises. And now he had to find ways to keep them.
The door opened over at the sheriff’s and out stepped the woman.
He sat straighter in his chair.
Where was she going? She looked around then started across the street for Lorna's.
He glanced at his watch. Past noon.
He shut down his files and stepped out of his office.
Time to grab some lunch and catch up on the local gossip at the Peaches ‘N Cream. Maybe he’d get lucky and find out if the woman and the sheriff were getting close enough to be a danger.
***
Nearly every seat in the café was occupied when Bobby entered. Men wearing jeans, different-colored flannel shirts, and baseball caps filled the counter seats. Probably farmers or truckers stopping in for lunch, since several big rigs and pickups filled the lot next to the café.
Several groups of men in suits and ties sat at tables along the front windows. She didn’t recognize anyone from the bank among them. And two families sat in the booths along one wall, looking very Norman Rockwell-ish. All that was missing was the family dog.
In one corner, a group of women sat laughing and eating dessert. Bet they knew every secret in town. She grinned and headed to the counter.
“Well, someone seems pretty happy today,” Lorna said as she entered fro
m the kitchen with a tray of sliced pies in hand. “Come here and hold these for me, Bobby, so I can get them in the dessert cabinet. We went through the first batch in record time. Always happens on Baptist Women’s meetin’ day.”
Bobby balanced the tray low enough so Lorna wouldn’t have to bend too much when putting the plates inside the refrigerated glass pantry. “How often do they meet?”
“Every other week. Can’t make up enough desserts for them.” Lorna gave her a conspiratorial wink and leaning in close, she whispered, “They eat nothing but soup and salad, then get the biggest slices of pie I have. Sort of cancels out all those calories they save.”
Bobby couldn’t help but laugh.
“Let me hold that for you, Ms. Roberts,” a smooth voice slid over her neck as two hands took the tray from her. Of course half the load was already gone.
Bobby glanced over her shoulder. Yep, should’ve known a politician would show up just as most of the work was completed. “Hello, Mayor Rawlins.”
“You remembered. But please, call me Tobias.”
He flashed a smile meant to dazzle her, and in the normal scheme of things it might, except these days she’d acquired a taste for things, tall, blond and often on the moody side. But that was no excuse to be mean, so she smiled back, glancing around the restaurant. “Seems half the town must be here today.”
“That’s because Lorna has the best food in town.”
Lorna harrumphed beside them, her lips pinched like she’d been sucking on lemons. “That’s because other than the tea room over at the Westen Inn, I have the only food in town.” She grabbed the now empty tray from the mayor’s hands. “Bobby, you go on and get that last booth before someone else does.”
Bobby slipped around the mayor and slid into the open booth in the opposite corner from the Baptist ladies, with her back to the wall to watch for Gage. Unfortunately the mayor followed her.
“How are things coming over at the sheriff’s office? Still getting those files on line?” he asked as he sat on the opposite seat without invitation.
“Things are coming along slowly. Ruby had a rather unique filing system, but Cleetus and I are making some progress.”
“I’m sure Cleetus isn’t exactly the best help.” The corners of his lips curved slightly giving his smile a bit of a sneer.
Thankfully, Rachel arrived with glasses of water and menus, saving her from defending Cleetus and wiping the scornful look off Tobias’ face.
“The sheriff meeting you here?” Rachel asked, nodding at the empty booth seat by Bobby.
Heat filled her cheeks. Did half the town just assume she and Gage were an item? Or had the voyeuristic neighbor spread the news of where she’d spent the night? Oh well, not like she’d be living here.
“Yes, he’s on his way, but he told me to order for him.” She ignored the mayor and studied the menu for a minute. Lorna had several salads and soups on the list.
Rachel pointed to the daily specials. “Today’s special is chicken-fried steak with gravy, hash browns and green beans. That’s one of his usual favorites.”
Heart attack on a plate. Figures. All those calories and the man remained whipcord lean. “Well, let’s make the sheriff a nice turkey and Swiss sandwich with fruit salad on the side today. And I’ll have the chicken-salad plate and fruit.”
“If you’re sure. Gage really likes the chicken-fried steak.”
“Yes, but his heart will appreciate the turkey.”
Rachel shrugged and wrote down the order.
The mayor ordered a salad and diet soda. Funny, he appeared the same age as Gage, but even eating salads hadn’t kept the extra weight from sagging his face slightly. In ten years he’d probably have deep jowls.
“So how long will you be staying in town?” he asked, leaning back and resting one arm on the back of the booth.
“Probably until the job is finished.” Let him assume she meant converting the files to the computer. He didn’t have to know she had a different job.
Rachel returned with their drinks, salads and a basket of fresh, homemade rolls. “I’ll bring the sheriff’s out once he gets here,” she said as she served their food.
The meal looked delicious and Bobby wished she could just dive right in, but she really would’ve preferred not sharing her meal with Tobias. In fact she had a much different companion in mind. And what was keeping Gage?
“So, have you found anything interesting in the files?” Tobias asked casually between two bites.
Something in the way he asked the question—just a little too casually—sent warning bells like a toy monkey’s brass cymbals clashing up and down her spine. Too many years watching the nuances of her more manipulative students told her the man was fishing for information.
Was there some tidbit in the files he wanted? Or maybe something he didn’t want to see the light of day?
Forcing the sudden anxiety down, she took a forkful of the chicken salad and smeared it on a cracker, smiling innocently at him. “Nothing more than a feud over a hunting dog and a large number of DUIs over the past few decades.” She ate her cracker slowly and drank some water before asking, “Why, did you think I’d find something mysterious?”
He shook his head a little too quickly. “Oh no, just curious. This is just a sleepy little town. Not much going on for excitement.”
Yep, nothing much except for land fraud and murder, possibly arson. And despite what little evidence she and Gage had collected, they both knew it deep down that the three were somehow connected.
“The records do go back nearly ninety years. Maybe we’ll find something interesting from way back then.”
“Well, you’ll have to keep me informed if you do. My Grandfather was mayor about sixty years ago. I doubt he had any more trouble than I have.” Tobias focused on his meal as he told her bits and pieces of the town’s history. “We’ve always had an odd character or two living here. The town used to be a stop on the coach route between the state capitol in Columbus and the port city of Cleveland. Not too far from here are some old canals built as part of the Erie Canal system from the early eighteen hundreds.”
“Really?” The noise level in the café had dropped a bit. Bobby glanced around as she ate her lunch and half listened to his tale. The hairs on her arm stood up and she had the eeriest feeling she was being watched.
“All the land around the town once belonged to a wealthy merchant family who raised and sold grain to the ferryman for their animals they used to pull the barges along the canals.”
“One family?” She factored his words into the back of her mind as she watched the people in the café.
The Baptist ladies were leaving, but a few took a moment to stare at her on their way out the door. She doubted it was more than idle curiosity. Not something to set her nerves on edge. The two families still busily chatted in their booths, while several of the seats at the counter had emptied. Her gaze fell on a table of businessmen. All three seemed to be studying her and Tobias.
“The estate also served as a stop on the Underground Railroad.”
With a tilt to her head she focused her attention back on the mayor. As a teacher she’d studied the state’s history of active abolitionism before the Civil War and always found the subject fascinating. “Many old homes claim the same thing.”
“Yes, but it’s been recorded in the county record since after the war. They say the old estate has hidden rooms and tunnels beneath the house.” Tobias winked at her between bites of his salad. “Of course no one knows for sure, since Gilbert Byrd bought the place nearly half a century ago.”
“Really?” Now he’d said something to catch her attention. “This Mr. Byrd doesn’t allow visitors?”
“Old Gil never liked people in his home when he was alive. He was a bit of an odd duck.” He grinned at his own pun.
Finally, some information about Gilbert Byrd. “He recently died?” Trying not to let him know she already knew this, she spoke as casually as her rising pulse would allow.
“Maybe a year back. The bank holds the lien on the abandoned property and no one can get in to look around it.”
She drew her brows in and gave him half a grin in encouragement. “Just how do you know all this?”
“I’m not just the town mayor, I sit on the bank’s board of directors.”
“Aha, a man with his finger on the town’s financial pulse?” Setting her fork aside, she leaned in a little closer. “So, tell me, has there been anyone out to the Byrd place to check those rumored tunnels?”
Before he could answer, the three businessmen, including the newspaper reporter with the limp handshake, approached their table. Bobby quickly picked up her fork so she wouldn’t have to shake hands with anyone.
“You ready for that fiscal planning meeting, Tobias?” one of them asked.
“Sure am, Thomas.” Tobias finished his soda. “Ms. Roberts, allow me to introduce you to two members of the town’s council. Thomas Yoder, the town’s legal advisor and this is Harold Russet, civil engineer and head of road maintenance and planning. And I believe you’ve met Richard Davis, the newspaper’s owner and chief reporter.”
Bobby smiled and nodded to all three men.
“Thank you for an enjoyable meal,” the mayor said as he scooted out of the booth. “Perhaps we can do it again sometime?”
“Well, that will depend on how long it takes me to finish my job.” She gave him a smile to soften the sting of her words, watching the group saunter out the café’s door.
Despite Tobias joining her uninvited for her meal, she’d learned some useful information. Something in those files had the mayor nervous. He’d tried to hide it, but she wondered how far she’d have to dig to find whatever it was he wanted to keep buried in Ruby’s filing system. What really had her excited was the news that the old Byrd place might have underground tunnels and hidden rooms.
Wonder what might be hidden there. Something worth committing murder to cover?
Bobby glanced at her watch, then out onto the street. No sign of Gage or his truck. He’d been getting in her way for days and now when she needed him, he was nowhere to be found. Typical.
Close To The Edge (Westen #2) Page 18
