by Katie Ruggle
Instead of answering, he eyed her searchingly. “We can talk about this later.”
“Oh, no way, Jose! I could barely wait until you got back, as evidenced by…” She trailed off, waving toward the door. “If you drag this out any longer, I’ll…well, I’ll think of something bad to do to you. So, spill.”
After another few seconds, he caved, digging his phone out of his coat pocket. “Fine. Here. You can check out the prints while I take off my boots.”
Not wanting to leave the support of the counter—since she had a feeling it was the only thing keeping her upright—Daisy held out her hand for the phone. With a shrug, he tossed it to her.
“Ack!” She fumbled but managed to catch it between her palms before it could fall onto the tile. “Careful, there. Don’t you think one falling object a day is enough?”
He returned to the entryway and pulled off his boots. “I was testing your reflexes.”
“Thanks, Dr. Chris,” she said dryly, pulling up the most recent photos. Frowning, she flicked through them, magnifying a few to get a closer view. “What is that in some of these—a penny?”
“Yep.” Having shucked his coat and hat, he moved to stand next to her. “I didn’t have my kit with me, and I needed a scale. Pennies work, since they’re a standard size.”
She snorted. “You just saw it in that movie we watched a few weeks ago.”
“Did not. Learned that in cop school.” He nudged her with his shoulder, and she caught herself before she toppled sideways. “Besides, she used a quarter in the movie.”
Grinning, Daisy brought the phone closer to her face. “Can you tell anything from these? Not to knock your photography skills, but they all look like white dents in the snow to me.”
“Yeah.” His gloomy voice made her glance at him. “I can tell that they match my boots.”
Her eyebrows shot toward her hairline. “Which means…what? That you were the one moving a body last night?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Dais. You caught me. No, these are about a size or two bigger than mine. Whoever it was walking around out there was wearing department-issued boots.”
“So it was definitely a deputy.”
“Unless someone just happened to get the same brand and style of boots, then yeah.”
“Uh…didn’t we already know that? This guy was driving a squad, after all.”
Reclaiming his phone, Chris started sorting through his photos. “Not necessarily. All someone needed was access and the keys. Could’ve been a family member or a friend of someone on the department. Here.” He handed the phone back to her, a photo of about a dozen people on the screen. “Was the person last night any of these guys?”
She looked at the picture. It must’ve been taken at some sort of training, because they were all in BDUs and tan T-shirts bearing the sheriff’s department logo. Most of them were smiling, although a few had on their tough-guy expressions. “I didn’t get a good look at his face, but we can eliminate this guy, this guy, and these two women because of their builds.”
Chris scowled as she pointed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he grumbled, taking his phone again and pocketing it. “It just sucks that you took Lawrence out of the suspect pool. I wouldn’t have minded arresting him.”
Daisy laughed. “Sorry.”
“It’s premature thinking that a crime was committed, though,” Chris warned. “I need to check the call log from last night and this morning to see if there was a legitimate reason for a deputy to be at that house.”
“Not in uniform?” she asked doubtfully.
“There might be a good explanation for that, too.”
She watched as he stared into space, obviously thinking hard. “You think it was something…not good, though.”
“Maybe,” he dodged. “Maybe not. I don’t have enough information to determine that yet.”
“Uh-huh.” Daisy wasn’t convinced. “But your gut tells you it wasn’t just a normal response to a call. I can tell, since you have on your hunter face.”
“My what?” he half laughed, losing the intent expression as he turned to face her.
“Hunter face.” She shrugged. “You get this look, like you’re a wolf about to take down an elk.”
“Right. No more Nature specials for you.”
She made a face at him but let it drop. “What’s the next step?”
“Checking the call log, like I said.” His eyebrows furrowed again as he looked at her, and Daisy met his gaze evenly, hoping she didn’t look as wobbly as she felt. “I’m thinking about asking Lou if she could come over to talk to you.”
“What?” That seemed to come out of the blue. Startled, she dug through her brain to remember what Chris had told her about a Lou. “You mean barista, dive team member, and stalker-killer Lou? Why?”
“That’s the one.” He drummed his fingers against the counter. “Because she’s been looking into Willard Gray’s murder.”
“The guy found in the reservoir? Well,” she corrected herself, wrinkling her nose, “most of him was found in the reservoir, at least.”
“Yeah.”
“Why should Lou come talk to me?”
Chris was still frowning, and his words came after a hesitation, as if he wasn’t sure he should be saying what he was. “I can’t give you details about the case, Dais. I could lose my job.”
“So, you really do think what I saw this morning is related to that Gray guy’s murder?”
“Probably not.”
“But it might be.”
Blowing out a frustrated breath, he pushed away from the counter and paced the kitchen. “The Gray case has been a complete cluster from the beginning. So many things about it don’t make any sense, and it’s frustrating the hell out of me. Whenever anything strange happens, I find myself trying to link it to the case. I know I’m reaching, but something’s telling me not to blow off what you told me as…” He sent her an odd look, a mix of frustration and guilt.
“As the ravings of a crazy lady?” she finished for him, trying to keep her voice light even as she swallowed back bile.
“No.” He stopped and scrubbed his fingers through his hair, bringing it back to its usual rumpled condition. “No. Dais, you’re not crazy.”
Forcing a laugh, she waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “It’s okay, Chris. I know what I am.”
“Dais.”
It was time to change the subject. “Tell Lou she can come over here, if she wants.”
“Daisy.”
“From what you’ve told me, she’ll be fun to talk to, even if we don’t unearth a countywide conspiracy.” She pushed away from the counter, relieved when her legs wobbled a little but held her upright. “Did you want some coffee to take with you?”
He was watching her with a little too much intensity, so she tried to ignore him, moving over to the coffeemaker and holding up a hazelnut cup. “No,” he finally said, sounding defeated. “I’m good.”
They were both quiet as Chris once again donned his boots and coat. He unlocked the interior dead bolts, the heavy clicks loud in the silence, and then stilled, turning to look at her.
“You’re not crazy.”
Although she felt too tired to start the argument again, she couldn’t make the assurances he needed to hear. Instead, she sighed. “See you later, Chris.”
His face grew tight, but he finally turned away. “Bye, Dais.”
After the interior door closed behind him, Daisy stared at it for a long time before moving to engage the locks.
* * *
Rob gave a grunt of annoyance when his phone started ringing. It always seemed to happen when his hands were full. Leaning forward, he dumped Anderson King’s body onto the rocky ground and then reached for his phone, checking the caller ID before accepting the
call.
“Chris,” he greeted.
“Hey, Rob.” A tentative note in his deputy’s voice caught Rob’s attention. “I’ve got a strange question for you. Got a minute?”
Not really. “Sure. What’s up?” Holding his phone in place with his shoulder, Rob took off his backpack and pulled out the bottle of bear bait.
“Was there a call for service at 304 Alpine Lane early this morning?”
Rob froze, the bottle falling from suddenly numb fingers. He had to clear his throat before he was able to speak. “Sorry, reception got bad for a second there. Did you say 304 Alpine?”
“Yeah. It’s the vacant white house that’s been on the market all winter.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. “There wasn’t a call there as far as I know. Why do you ask?”
“My friend, Daisy, saw someone out of uniform put something into a squad.” Chris hesitated a moment before he continued. “She thought it looked…suspicious.”
Rob couldn’t breathe.
“She got some video footage of the guy on her phone, but it was pretty dark.”
Video footage? The clamp around his throat tightened.
After a few moments of silence, Chris spoke again. “There was nothing on the call log, but I figured there was some explanation other than…”
“Other than…?” Rob repeated, forcing out the words.
“Well, Daisy thought the object being put into the squad might have been a body.”
Closing his eyes, Rob swallowed a frustrated grunt. Why couldn’t things ever go smoothly? All he wanted to do was protect his son and the community, but it felt like roadblocks were being thrown in his way at every turn. “A body?” He put as much amused disbelief into his voice as he could manage.
“I know it sounds hard to believe,” Chris said, “but if Daisy saw something she thinks is suspicious, it’s worth checking out.”
“Wait, is this Daisy Little you’re talking about?” Recognition hit, and Rob kicked himself for not making the connection earlier. “The girl who hasn’t left the house since her mom was killed in that robbery?” Some of the tension left his body. This kind of witness he could handle.
“Yes.” Chris’s voice was sharply defensive. Interesting. “Daisy says there was something off about the situation, and I believe her.”
“Agreed. I’ll look into it.” One more clean-up job.
“Yeah?” Chris said, sounding surprised and pleased. “Great. Thanks for taking this seriously.”
“Of course. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll stop by Daisy’s to talk to her. We’ll figure this out.”
“Thanks again, Rob.”
After Chris ended the call, Rob squeezed his eyes closed and allowed himself a full minute of mental cursing. Then, shaking off his frustration, he picked up the bottle of bear bait and began to pour it over Anderson’s body. Once the scavengers were done with the corpse, any evidence of the bullet holes would be destroyed. In the unlikely case that his remains were found, it would be determined that Anderson had fallen prey to exposure.
Rob pushed away worries about Daisy Little. Deal with one threat at a time, he told himself, recapping the empty bottle and stowing it in his backpack.
A raven croaked from its perch on the blackened skeleton of a pine tree. As Rob glanced at the bird, it was joined by two more, all of them eyeing him with interest. With a grim smile, he gestured toward the bait-soaked corpse.
“Bon appétit.”
* * *
The knock was different, unfamiliar, and Daisy’s finger hesitated over the intercom button for a long moment. It would probably be safer to pretend she wasn’t home.
The thought made her huff a humorless laugh. Everyone in Simpson knew she was always home, so that probably wasn’t the best and brightest plan.
When the rapping came again, louder that time, she jumped, her finger unintentionally pressing the button. Decision made for her, she leaned toward the intercom and hoped that the staticky connection would disguise the shake in her voice.
“Who is it?”
“Hi!” An unfamiliar female voice came through the speaker. “I’m Lou Sparks. Louise, actually, but you can just pretend I never told you that. Chris said he warned you I was coming.”
“Warned?”
The intercom turned Lou’s laugh into a buzz at the end. “Yes. He actually used the word ‘warned.’ I was terribly offended.”
She didn’t sound offended. In fact, her merry tone made Daisy smile and push the button to unlock the exterior door. “Come in.”
Even after the clunk and click of the exterior door closing and locking, Daisy hesitated a few more seconds before starting on the row of dead bolts. That morning’s incident had pushed her from cautious to paranoid. It was fine when she had a pane of glass separating her from the world, but the bare, wide-open doorway had brought her to her knees—or, more accurately, to her back.
She cut off that entire train of thought. It wasn’t the time to analyze her issues, since she had a guest trapped between the doors.
As if to emphasize that fact, a muffled voice asked tentatively, “Should I knock again? Just let me know the procedure.”
Sliding the last chain lock free, Daisy pulled open the door. A pretty blond woman in her midtwenties stood on the other side.
“No procedure. I mean, I just wait until the outside door closes before I unlock this one, but there’s no other…” She shook her head, taking a step back so Lou could enter. “Sorry. I’m babbling. Come in. I’m not normally so scattered. It’s just been a weird day so far.”
Lou grinned. “Well, you have one up on me, then, since I do babble, pretty much constantly, and I don’t need a strange day to make it happen.”
Her fingers shook a little as Daisy relocked the interior door, and she tried to mentally force them to stop. Was she that far gone that a new visitor made her quiver like a Chihuahua?
“I’m okay with babbling,” she…well, babbled, before she bit off the rest of the words that wanted to come pouring out of her mouth. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee or…” Mentally, Daisy inventoried the beverages in the fridge and held back a wince. “Water? I’m sorry that there’s not much of a selection.”
“Water would be great.” Stepping out of her boots, Lou hung her jacket on the coat rack next to the door. “Today’s my day off, but I normally work at a coffee shop. I don’t drink coffee when I’m there, but I still think I absorb the caffeine through my pores, or something. Anyway, I’m normally wired enough that I don’t need to add a stimulant to the mix.”
Daisy wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she focused on digging a bottle of water out of the fridge.
“Thanks,” Lou said, taking a few steps closer so she could grab the bottle. “Your kitchen is amazing.”
“My dad just completed remodeling it about a year ago. It took forever for him to finish, since he kept having to leave to go to job sites. After living in half-constructed hell for that long, I’m still grateful just to have a working sink.”
“Your dad lives here with you?” Lou explored the room unashamedly, running her fingers over the mosaic tiles that made up the backsplash.
“Yes. Well,” Daisy corrected herself, “when he’s not out of town, working on a job.”
“Construction?”
“Alternative energy systems. He installs solar panels, wind turbines, things like that. His clients are really spread out, though, so he just parks the camper close to whatever job he’s working on at the time. Right now, he’s in Connor Springs. He’s due back tonight, actually.”
Lou cocked her head, giving her an unreadable look. “Connor Springs is only twenty miles away.”
Dropping her gaze, Daisy busied herself with making yet another cup of coffee. “I think he likes being at the job site at night. That way, he can keep an eye on his e
quipment.”
“Okay.” Lou’s voice was gentle—too gentle—and Daisy cleared her throat, determined to change the subject.
“Are you really a lawyer?” When Lou looked startled, Daisy explained, “Chris mentioned something about that.”
“I made it through law school.” Lou said “law school” with the same amount of disgust most people reserved for “cockroaches.” “I even passed the bar. I never practiced, though. I decided I’d rather have the money, power, and prestige that comes from being a barista in Simpson.”
Daisy snorted a laugh and was immediately embarrassed by the piglike sound. “I have you beat for least prestigious jobs.”
“You work?”
She tried not to be offended at the surprise in the other woman’s voice. After all, it had been a long and arduous search for a way for her to make money without leaving the house. “Yep. I sell things online. Antiques and collectables, mainly. Dad goes to the auctions and estate sales, and he brings back boxes and boxes filled with…well, mostly junk.” She gave a small laugh. “Dad doesn’t have a clue about old stuff, and he doesn’t have any interest in learning about it, either. He texts me a lot of pictures, and I text back with a thumbs-up or thumbs-down. I clean and repair what I think will sell and then list it online.”
“Nice,” Lou said, playing with the cap of her water bottle. “Ingenious, really. There probably aren’t that many jobs that don’t require at least some outside time.”
“Nope, there really aren’t.” Her smile felt a little forced as she gestured toward the living room with the hand not holding her coffee mug. “Do you want to sit down?”
“Sure.” As Daisy led the way, Lou continued, “I have to say that your house is not what I expected. In fact, you’re not what I expected.”
Although she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know, Daisy couldn’t resist asking, “In what way?”
Lou settled on one end of the sofa, tucking her socked feet underneath her. She was so relaxed, as if she’d been there a hundred times before. Sitting on the other side of the couch, Daisy was envious, unable to even imagine possessing that kind of confidence.
