Don’t Tell A Soul: A gripping crime thriller that will have you hooked

by D. K. Hood

  “I see.” Kane toyed with his coffee cup, turning the mug with the tips of his long fingers. “If you’d agree, ma’am, I’ll investigate the incident and discover who tried to kill you last night and deal with them personally. If you believe anyone in town is a potential threat, then I want a list of names along with any open cases you are investigating. If you know of anything concerning you or your safety, I need to know.” He waved a hand toward the front door. “You shouldn’t have to live like this. I could rig up a silent alarm that goes straight to my cellphone?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I have an alarm and it’s usually activated.”

  “That won’t save you if you believe your life is in danger. This ranch is isolated and I can be here in minutes.” Kane’s gaze roamed over her face. “If you want, I can fit a chip into one of your earrings, then if you get into trouble out on patrol, squeeze it and I’ll be able to track your whereabouts.” His mouth twitched into a small smile. “It’s obvious you’re a tech head, so if you’d rather make one, I could give you the specifications. I’m not suggesting this to keep tabs on you. I’m offering my help, is all. Let’s face it, if I wanted to kill you, I’ve had ample opportunity in the past eight hours.”

  Every word he had said made sense, and the idea of twenty-four-seven personal protection eased her nerves. She nodded in agreement. “Okay, I’ll take you up on your offer and thank you.”

  As she removed the diamond stud from her ear and handed it over, she stared at the large, handsome man sitting at her table. Having someone like him to watch her back would be a dream come true, but he could be a plant sent to arrange a fatal accident for her. I would so much like to trust you, David Kane, but not yet.

  Five

  Kane leaned back in his seat at Alton’s kitchen table, trying to unravel why she was acting so defensive. He detected the strain on her face. Whatever she was dealing with had caused her considerable worry. He had taken inventory of the interior of her house and noticed the complete lack of personal items—well, apart from the pink slippers. The family photographs and personal knickknacks most people displayed in their homes were missing, and women living in secluded rural areas usually owned a dog. He assumed she was like him before he made the mistake of marrying Annie. Back then, he had preferred to be devoid of attachments and ready to leave at a moment’s notice. He had been in Jenna’s position, lived through the sleepless nights waiting for the silent assassin, but being married had made him soft. He had not discovered the bomb under his car. His wife had died and his carelessness carried the blame. His commander refused to ignore the hit and ordered him to vanish. Standing in the rain watching his empty coffin buried beside Annie had been surreal. He accepted the chance of a new life for one reason—revenge. One day, he would seek justice for Annie and it would be brutal.

  He understood Alton’s fear. The world believed him dead, but his knapsack remained packed and ready for a quick getaway. Yet Alton had lived in Black Rock Falls for at least two years, apparently without a problem. He did not buy the battered woman story, not her; she could take a man down with one hand tied behind her back. The threat to her life might have shaken her but she had broken the first rule of survival. He wanted to know why she had not taken off immediately, if she believed him a threat, but questions would have to wait until he gained her trust. “What else is bothering you? If anyone in town is a threat, I need to know. I can’t protect you if I’m kept out of the loop.”

  “I’ll give you the access code to view the department’s files but apart from neighborhood disputes and the like there are three main cases.” Alton placed her mug on the table and the pink tip of her tongue flicked across her lips. “People are going missing, and if there is a killer on the loose and I’m living alone, then my extra precautions are valid.”

  “So why bug my room?”

  “I was watching my back. Just in case my ex paid someone to take revenge or check out my vulnerability.” She shrugged in a dismissive gesture. “You see, for the last two years, I’ve put in requests for a deputy sheriff without success. Then, without notice, the mayor suddenly receives funding to create the position, and the only person to apply was you. Kind of suspicious, don’t you agree?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Yeah, it is.” Alton let out a long sigh and her dark blue gaze settled on his face. “What’s the probability of you seeing the advertisement I placed in the Black Rock Falls County news?” She leaned back in her chair and gave him a long, concerned look. “You worry me.”

  Then you have something to hide. “Do I? I’m sorry if you don’t believe me.”

  “Maybe you should explain just how you came to apply for the job?”

  She intrigued him and he wanted to call his contact at HQ and get intel on her. He chuckled to clear the tension in the room. “The social worker at the hospital where I recovered found the advertisement for the position online and suggested I apply. After being shot in the head I wanted a quiet life, and for the record, I’m not after your job.” He rubbed his chin. “If you thought I might be a problem, why did you accept my application?”

  “I have three deputies. Rowley is twenty-five and as solid as a rock, Daniels is fresh out of college, and Walters is old enough to be my grandpa.” Her cheeks pinked. “I needed an experienced officer to be my deputy. Trust me, I checked you out and you came up clean… maybe too clean.”

  He stretched, acting as nonchalant as possible under her scrutiny, something he had perfected over the years. “It sounds like I have experience way beyond the others in your department. I’m street-smart and I’ll watch your six. What do you have on the missing persons’ cases?”

  She tossed her head in an action he guessed she once used to flick long hair over one shoulder, then as if remembering her short bob, pushed a few strands behind one ear.

  “We have many itinerant workers drifting in and out of the area depending on the season but over the last couple of months two people have apparently arrived in town and vanished.” Her brow wrinkled. “Trust me, Black Rock Falls isn’t a place most people would want to visit in winter.”

  I wonder if you’ve had plastic surgery like me. Kane refilled his coffee and took time adding the sugar and cream. “I agree. So who or what alerted you to the problem?”

  “A young woman came into the station to file a missing persons’ report. Her name is Sarah Woodward.” Alton fingered the bandage on her forehead and pressed the dark blue bruise under her eye. “She arrived two weeks ago looking for her grandma, Samantha Woodward. Apparently, she is a spry and healthy sixty-eight. Nine months ago, after her husband died, she sold up and informed Sarah she’d be traveling around the state. Last she’d heard, she’d planned to visit Black Rock Falls.” Jenna wet her lips. “We know she arrived and opened a post office box then she dropped off the earth.”

  Kane raised a brow. “Maybe she moved on. Did you pass on the information to the sheriff of the next county?”

  “No, because Sarah mentioned her grandma planned to purchase a small ranch here. Many years ago her father owned land in the area and I guess she wanted to recapture her youth. Sarah’s mother received letters from her on a regular basis, then two months ago the letters stopped and Sarah became worried. She checked hospitals along the route she’d taken, and when she couldn’t find any trace of her, she ended up in Black Rock Falls. Her grandma mentioned the town but no specific area.” Jenna sighed and ran her slim fingers through her short hair. “She ran into brick walls trying to get help from the locals and came into the station to report her missing last Tuesday.”

  Kane rubbed his chin. “Do people still write letters?”

  “Apparently so.” Alton shrugged and her mouth turned down. “She was old-school, preferred to write letters, and refused to own a cellphone. Her granddaughter told me she believed them to be intrusive and preferred to speak to people in person.”

  “Okay. How was she picking up her mail?” He removed his woolen cap and scratched his head. He m
issed his buzz cut but the longer style covered the ugly scar.

  “She would pick them up at post office boxes along the way. Before you ask, she used her daughter’s address on the form to hire them. The postmaster in town says he doesn’t keep tabs on people collecting their mail but did mention Woodward’s lease expires the end of the month.” She held up one small hand like a police officer conducting traffic. “And yes, I did ask Sarah if her grandma ever mentioned if she worked in the area, and came up empty. She said she wrote brief letters about the history of the places she’d stopped at along the way, and personal matters. All I know is she came into town about a month ago, banked cash, and picked up her mail. We’ve made enquiries at the local ranches in the area but no one recalls seeing her.”

  He stirred his coffee, mulling over what she had said. “You mentioned others are missing?”

  “One other.” She refilled her cup then ran the tip of one manicured fingernail absently through a drop spilled on the table. “I had an enquiry about a missing person from Father Maguire from Atlanta. He is concerned about one of his parishioners, John Helms. The last time he heard from him, Helms was heading into Black Rock Falls to attend a game of hockey. That was two weeks ago. Father Maguire has not had any contact with him since he notified him to say he’d had car trouble and was planning to take the bus. Apparently, he called regularly.” She sighed and leaned back in the chair, coffee cup in hand. “This one is tricky because Helms took the vacation after marriage counseling. Apparently he needed a break from his wife.”

  “Have you considered he could have planned to run off with his lover?”

  “The thought has crossed my mind but Father Maguire is tight-lipped about the circumstances of the couple’s problems.” Alton raised both dark eyebrows. “I have a cell number for Mr. Helms but the service has been disconnected. As this was yesterday, I haven’t gotten very far with my enquiries and have no reason to suspect the two cases are linked.”

  Kane drummed his fingers on the table. The missing persons’ cases should not be serious enough to put her on edge. She had mentioned three ongoing cases and he waited as she sipped her coffee for her to continue.

  “Then there’s the guy in the lock-up.” She placed her cup carefully on the table and lifted her gaze. “There was a fight Thursday evening at the Cattleman’s Hotel. I was on duty with Deputy Rowley and we arrested three men for public intoxication. Two of them accused Billy Watts, the detainee, of stealing chips during a poker game. I’m trying to determine whether Mr. Watts is a suspect or a victim. At the time of arrest, he was carrying two hundred dollars and apparently cashed in a few minutes before the fight started.” She cleared her throat and gave him an apologetic look. “I released the other men in the morning. They are local boys and one is the mayor’s son. They are members of the local hockey team, and with a home game this weekend their coach will keep them in line.”

  The mayor’s son? “Did you give special consideration because of their connection to the mayor?”

  She gaped at him with an aghast expression and straightened. “I most certainly did not.” She pushed back the chair and stood with her fists balled on her waist. “Trust me, I don’t bend the rules for anyone, least of all Mayor Rockford.”

  Kane swallowed the laugh crawling up his throat. She had guts to challenge him, and by the flash of anger in her eyes, she was serious. “Okay, okay, I believe you. How did the arrests go down? Would one of them be pissed enough to commit vehicular homicide?”

  “What you really mean is, ‘Did they lose face in front of their friends after being arrested by a woman?’” She chuckled and her face softened. “Probably, but enough to attempt murder? No, I don’t think so.”

  Kane’s stomach rumbled. “Please tell me you have a place in town that serves a good breakfast.”

  “Aunt Betty’s Café is the best if you want good honest food, but you have fixings in your cottage.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I thought it would be good to get the layout of the town before I start work on Monday.” He pushed slowly to his feet and smiled at her. “Would you consider coming along to show me around?”

  She blinked a few times as if trying to compute what he had said then waved a hand toward her dressing gown.

  “Why not? But I’ll need a few minutes to shower and change.” She lifted her chin and gave him a long, considering stare. “I guess if we’re going into Black Rock Falls in our civvies, you’d better call me Jenna.”

  “Okay, see you when you’re ready.” Kane smiled at her confused expression. “Before I go, could I have the web address and password for the files? I’ll take a look before we leave and if you give me the number of one of the deputies on duty this weekend, I’ll send him out to photograph the scene of your accident and arrange a tow truck.”

  “You are welcome to check the files. I need fresh eyes on the cases.” Jenna’s lips flattened into a thin line as she turned to a notepad on the bench beside the telephone, and taking a pen attached by a string, she wrote a combination of numbers beside a URL. She frowned as if deciding her next move then handed him the slip of paper. “I’ll call Rowley. He won’t know who you are and you’re not an official member of Black Rock Falls County Sheriff’s Department until Monday morning. Rowley is the best one to send out to the scene of an accident and will handle the case for now.” She tapped her bottom lip then wiggled her eyebrows. “Unless you want to start today?”

  “Sure.” He turned toward the front door. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  * * *

  Once back inside his cottage, he went to the bedroom and pulled out his getaway knapsack. It contained burner cellphones, six credit cards in different identities, cash, his Zig nine-one-one backup pistol, ammunition, and a change of clothes. He dug out one of the cells and punched in his contact’s number. “Ninety-eight H requesting information on Sheriff Jenna Alton of Black Rock Falls County.”

  He listened to the tapping of fingers on computer keys followed by an intake of breath.

  “We have no records of interest under that name. I must advise you to stand down on any further enquiries on this subject and enjoy your new position.”

  Kane grimaced. There should be information available on a county sheriff, no matter how inconsequential, so his instincts about her had been correct. “Copy that.” He flicked the cellphone shut, turned it over, and removed the SIM card then strolled into the kitchen and nuked it in the microwave.

  Six

  The chug, chug, chug of heavy machinery from the front of the house grabbed Kane’s attention. He strolled to the front door and stepped outside into an icy breeze. A snowplow turned in front of the sheriff’s house. The operator moved the machinery past his front door and peeled away the fresh top coat of snow. The red-faced man inside gave him a cheery wave then continued down the driveway. He lifted his hand in a mock salute and watched the spray of snow pile up each side of the road. The chill of winter cut through his thick sweater and he turned inside, kicking the door shut with his foot.

  Checking through Black Rock Falls County Sheriff’s Department arrest files would have to wait until later. The tracker in Jenna’s earring had been his first priority. He grabbed a hoodie from his bag and, pulling it over his head, walked back to the door. Outside, he locked the deadbolt behind him then crunched through the ice-covered driveway to his SUV. He slipped inside, turned on the engine to allow the motor to idle, and pushed the heater up a few notches before pulling on his gloves. He had lived in colder places but not in the Upper Midwest. Climate change made the winters brutal in many states and he expected freezing temperatures but the wind in Black Rock Falls was wicked. Rather than wait, he backed out of the garage and drove to the front of Jenna’s house. Moments later, she emerged.

  The sheriff had dressed in a padded jacket with a fur-trimmed hood worn over blue jeans and ankle boots. Carefully applied makeup covered the bruise on her face and she did not acknowledge him but moved down the steps and rounded the front of his ca
r to open the passenger door. Settled inside, she clicked in her seat belt before looking at him expectantly with a raised eyebrow.

  “Oh, I guess you’ll be needing directions to Aunt Betty’s?” She waved a hand nonchalantly toward the entrance to the property “You can’t miss it. It’s on the main street. The café has a slice of apple pie on a sign out front.”

  He slanted a glance in her direction. “Copy that, but before we leave, here you go.” He fished her earring out of his pocket. “Just squeeze it and it will call my cellphone. I’ll be able to track you on my app. Later, I’ll set up a silent alarm for the house but this will work in an emergency.”

  “Thank you.” Jenna attached the earring then her brow crinkled into a frown. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you as my ride for a couple days until my patrol car is repaired.” She tucked a strand of hair inside her hood and a small smile curled her lips. “I could commandeer your vehicle but I would appreciate your cooperation as you are a member of my department. All expenses paid, of course.”

  “Not a problem.” He turned the car onto the main road and headed toward the center of town, trailing behind the snowplow. “Do you have the snow cleared every morning?”

  “Jim lives next door and does my driveway as a courtesy before heading into town.” Jenna smiled in a flash of white teeth. “He says if I can’t get out, I can’t assist anyone who needs help.”

  Kane took in his surroundings. Black Rock Falls was not the small town he imagined. The county spread out in every direction, attached to the main town by a spiderweb of back roads. Signposts and bunting directed traffic to Black Rock Falls Stadium, home of the Larks, and the showgrounds. As they drove closer to town, snow-covered houses nestled in clusters. The main street showed prosperity and a thriving community. The cold had not kept the locals indoors. A line of people lined up outside the bakery, chatting beneath a cloud of steam, and cars lined the curb. He glanced at Alton. “Is it usually busy at this time of the morning?”