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Case File: Canyon Creek, Wyoming

Page 4

by Graves, Paula


  “All six of the murder victims were wrapped in plastic sheeting and dumped in bodies of water,” Riley pointed out. “All six were killed by ligature strangulation.”

  “That’s not an unusual mode of murder. Same ligature used each time?”

  “No,” Riley admitted. “I think he uses weapons of opportunity.”

  “Victims of opportunity, weapons of opportunity—” Tanner shook his head. “Yeah, I could see the FBI needing more.”

  Riley glanced at Joe. Did his old friend secretly agree with Jim Tanner and the FBI about the scarcity of connections between the cases? Was he simply humoring Riley out of loyalty?

  Tanner put his cup down on the Formica counter. “You know what? You clearly believe the cases are linked, and I’m not one to blow off a fellow cop who’s having a hunch. I’ll put one of my guys on the cold cases in our jurisdiction, see if any of them match any of your criteria. Maybe it’ll help flesh out the body of evidence. You never know.”

  Riley gave the Teton County chief a grateful half smile. “I appreciate it.”

  “Sheriff Tanner?”

  Riley turned and saw Hannah’s doctor approaching, a frown creasing his forehead.

  “Can I help you?” Tanner asked.

  “Ms. Cooper is asking to leave the hospital early. Now, in fact. She feels uncomfortable remaining here.”

  Riley’s stomach tightened. “Did you leave her alone?”

  “I posted a guard outside, but—”

  Riley didn’t wait for the rest of his sentence, pushing past Joe and heading back to Hannah’s room. He didn’t see a guard outside her door, or any other door lining the corridor.

  His heart rate climbing, Riley pushed open the door to Hannah’s room and almost bumped into the guard standing just inside. He was a slim man in his early twenties, with crow-black hair and sun-bronzed skin. He was laughing as he turned to look at Riley.

  Riley pushed past him, putting himself firmly between the guard and Hannah. “Are you okay?” he asked her, keeping his eyes on the guard, whose brow furrowed at Riley’s question.

  “I’m fine. Charlie was just introducing himself, since he was going to be my babysitter.” Humor and annoyance tinted Hannah’s whiskey drawl. “I was just telling him I’m thinking of digging a tunnel out.”

  Riley arched an eyebrow at the guard. “Shouldn’t you be frisking me or something? Checking my ID?”

  Charlie looked suitably crestfallen.

  “He’s messing with you,” Hannah said. “Riley, leave him alone.”

  “Go stand guard outside and don’t let anyone in without checking ID,” Riley told the younger man, his tone firm. Charlie quickly obeyed.

  Riley turned to look at Hannah, who still sat in the chair by the window. Her knees were tucked up against her chest, her chin resting atop them as she gazed at him with sleepy green eyes. He felt a funny twisting sensation in his gut. “You look wiped out.”

  “Always with the compliments,” she said around a yawn.

  “Your doctor says you want out of here.”

  “Ya think?”

  He managed a smile at the crack. “There won’t be any flights out before 8:00 a.m. What do you plan to do, camp out in the airport where you don’t know a soul?”

  “I’m camped out in a hospital where I don’t know a soul. At least at the airport I wouldn’t be wearing a cotton smock with an open back.”

  There was a quiet knock on the hospital-room door, and a moment later, Joe Garrison and Jim Tanner entered, followed by one of the Teton County evidence technicians holding a notebook computer.

  “Trammell here has a copy of the only security-camera footage available,” Tanner said, motioning for Trammell to set up the notebook computer on the over-bed table at the foot of the hospital bed. “I want you to watch and see if anyone looks familiar.”

  “I didn’t get a good look at him either time.”

  “You can at least eliminate people by body type. It can’t hurt.”

  Riley and Joe gathered around the computer as Trammell hit play. Riley felt a prickle of warmth down the left side of his body and turned to find Hannah sitting closer to him, like a kitten curling up next to a heat source. The mental image amused him.

  He reached behind her to grab the blanket wadded near the foot of the bed and caught a glimpse of golden skin peeking out the back of her hospital gown.

  She smiled her appreciation when he tucked the blanket around her, then turned back to the computer. “What are we looking at?” she asked Trammell.

  “This is the front entrance.” Trammell pointed to a pair of glass doors center frame. “We asked for everything from about an hour before you arrived to the time you called the nurse’s station around 1:00 a.m.” He pointed to another button. “Click that button and it’ll fast-forward the images. Click that one and it’ll pause the image.”

  It was easy to fast-forward the video; about half the visitors could be eliminated by their sex, others by age or build. Hannah stopped the video three times, but each time she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  Riley frowned, something on the video catching his eye. “The hell?” He reached across and hit the pause button, then touched another to reverse the video.

  “What is it?” Hannah asked.

  “I’m not sure—” He saw the flicker again and hit pause.

  “Oh,” Hannah said, her voice tinted with surprise.

  On the screen, the tip of one dark boot was visible just past the edge of the mottled carpet in front of the lobby door.

  “Well, hell.” Tanner grimaced at the screen.

  “Someone tampered with the recording.” Riley looked at Joe, whose blue eyes had darkened.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jim Tanner growled.

  “How did he manage that?” Hannah asked.

  Riley laid his hand on her shoulder. She gave a little trembling jerk, turning her head to look up at him. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and felt her relax under his touch.

  Tanner released a deep sigh and turned to look at them. “Inside job?”

  Joe nodded. “Probably. It’s where I’d start looking for sure.”

  “But why would someone who worked here want to hide his image? It’s not like it would raise an alarm,” Hannah said.

  “Unless they tampered with the image to throw us off,” Riley countered. As convoluted as that possibility sounded, he wouldn’t put it past their target to be just that devious.

  “I’ll get a list of all the personnel, then. Security, medical staff, sanitation, the whole lot.” Tanner clapped his technician on the shoulder. “Trammel, I want the original footage sent to the crime lab in Cheyenne. See if those fellows can get anything out of it.”

  Trammell nodded, grabbed his computer and left.

  Tanner looked at Hannah. “I think you’re right, Ms. Cooper. It’s not a good idea for you to stay here tonight. I can set you up in protective custody here in Jackson—”

  Hannah turned and looked at Riley. “You said I’m the only one who ever got away.”

  “That we know of,” Riley agreed.

  “I’m the only one who’s seen him.” Her voice softened even more. She moved away from them, toward the window, her arms wrapped around her as if she felt a sudden chill. The movement spread the back of her hospital gown even wider, baring more of the golden skin on her back and the sweet curve of her bottom beneath the cotton of her pale-blue panties.

  Riley felt a flutter low in his belly and clamped his teeth together, surprised by his body’s traitorous response. He cleared his throat and glanced at Joe and Jim Tanner. Both men were looking at him rather than Hannah’s pretty backside, which made him feel like even more of a slug.

  “Have you talked to her doctor?” Joe asked Tanner in a faint murmur. “What are the chances of her getting back more memories of the attack?”

  “Nobody knows,” Tanner admitted. “Head injuries are unpredictable. She might never remember anything more than she’s told us.”
>
  “There might not be anything more to remember,” Joe said grimly. “I hoped when we learned there was a living witness—”

  “We know a lot more than we did,” Riley pointed out, glancing at Hannah again. She’d turned and was watching them whisper among themselves, her eyes slightly narrowed.

  “I’m still here in the room,” she said aloud, making the other men look at her as well. “Since I’m pretty sure you’re talking about me, why don’t y’all tell me what’s on your minds?”

  Riley walked toward her slowly. “We were discussing what you do and don’t remember about the attack.”

  “Not much,” she admitted, her voice apologetic. “I’d hoped that I’d remember more once the symptoms of the concussion passed, but I come back to the same thing. I didn’t get a good look at him when he pulled me over. I remember jeans and a silver belt buckle. He seemed fit—muscular, or at least that’s the impression I got before he sprayed me in the face with pepper spray. It happened so fast.”

  Riley touched her shoulder again. “You told us he posed as a cop. That’s something we didn’t know before, and I think it could be important.” If nothing else, it suggested the man might have some law-enforcement experience, or at least more understanding of police work than the average citizen.

  “What if it’s not enough?” Hannah asked. “What if I fly out of here tomorrow and nothing changes? What if he goes on killing people?”

  Riley frowned, not following. “We keep looking for him anyway.”

  She looked up at him suddenly, her green eyes bright with an emotion he couldn’t identify. “I’m the only living witness. If I leave—”

  She didn’t finish the sentence, but Riley finally understood what she was getting at. “If you leave, it could hamper the investigation,” he admitted aloud.

  Her head lowered, her back slumping as if it suddenly bore a terrible weight. Riley felt a rush of pity for her, for he had some idea of what she was feeling. It was a horrible thing, carrying the burden of six unsolved murders, knowing that it fell on you to bring them justice and closure.

  “I can’t leave Wyoming, can I?” she asked softly.

  He didn’t answer, knowing it was a question she had to answer herself.

  Her tongue ran lightly over her lips and he saw her throat bob as she swallowed. When she looked up at him again, her gaze was solemn but direct. “I have five more days left of my vacation. I can’t stay forever, but I can give you those five days. Maybe it’ll be enough.”

  “We can put you in protective custody,” Jim Tanner offered.

  “She needs to go somewhere the killer doesn’t expect her to be.” Riley glanced at Joe.

  “Somewhere small and off the beaten path?” Joe asked, his voice faintly dry.

  Riley shrugged and turned back to Hannah. “Canyon Creek is about an hour and a half from here, in ranching country. I have a place there. Plenty of room. Great view.”

  Hannah’s brow creased. “You want me to stay alone with you? I don’t even know you.”

  “You don’t have to know me. You just have to trust me.”

  The room fell silent as Hannah considered his words. The walls seemed to close in around them, every molecule, every atom focused on her words.

  He wasn’t sure what he wanted her answer to be, now that he’d made the offer. He’d lived alone for three years, his home both a refuge and a prison since Emily’s death. He’d found a certain familiar comfort in his loneliness, Emily’s absence so powerful it became a tangible thing he could hold on to when the nights were dark and long. He hadn’t let anyone intrude on his solitude in a long time.

  Hannah would change that. How could she not?

  Hannah released a long, deep breath and looked up at them. “Okay.”

  Riley felt as if the ground was crumbling beneath his feet.

  “Let’s do it,” she said, her chin high. “Let’s go to Canyon Creek.”

  Chapter Four

  “Joe shouldn’t have dragged you out of bed to do this.” Hannah took the blanket Jane Garrison handed her, feeling terrible about putting a stranger—a pregnant stranger—through so much trouble.

  “I wasn’t asleep. I’m not used to my husband being called to Jackson in the middle of the night.” Jane’s expression was a mixture of ruefulness and besottedness. Clearly, she was madly in love with Canyon Creek’s Chief of Police.

  “I guess it’s usually quiet around here, huh?” Hannah had dozed a bit on the drive from Jackson, drained from the last eventful hours, but she’d awakened long enough to see that Riley Patterson’s small ranch house was located smack dab in the middle of Nowhere, Wyoming. He had assured her there was a town a few miles to the east, with stoplights and everything, but they were clearly in ranch country, where the closest neighbors—the Garrisons, as it turned out—were six miles down a narrow one-lane road.

  “Quiet?” Jane’s lips quirked. “Mostly, yes. But we do have our moments, now and then.” She crossed to the corner, where an old-fashioned wood stove sat silent and cold, and started to pick up pieces of firewood from a nearby bin.

  “Let me do that.” Hannah quickly intervened.

  “You have a concussion,” Jane protested.

  “And you’re pregnant,” Hannah countered firmly.

  Jane gave her an exasperated look. “It’s not a disease.”

  Hannah laughed. Jane’s lips curved and she finally gave into laughter as well.

  “Joe treats me like I’m suddenly made of glass when he knows damned well I’m tough as old leather,” Jane complained as she opened the door to the stove so Hannah could throw some wood inside. “I’ve lived through the Wyoming winter for two years now. Having a baby’s nothing compared to that.”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s nothing.” Hannah put the last piece of wood on the fire and stepped back. “How does this thing work? We’re more into air-conditioning where I live.”

  Jane took over lighting the wood stove. “You’re from Alabama?”

  Hannah sat on the end of the bed, watching Jane’s deft hands strike a match to the kindling she’d piled atop the stack of wood inside the iron stove’s belly. “Yeah. It’s a little town called Gossamer Ridge, up in northeast Alabama. It’s pretty small. My family owns a few hundred acres on Gossamer Lake. We run a marina and fishing camp there. Most of my brothers and I work there in some capacity.”

  “You have a lot of brothers?” Jane stepped back from the stove, holding her hands out to warm them from the radiant heat.

  “Six. I’m the youngest and the only girl.”

  “Wow. Six brothers.” Jane settled carefully in a rocker next to the bed, rubbing her hand over her round belly. “I’m an only child. Joe had a brother, but he died.” For a second, Jane’s expression grew bleak, her eyes dark with pain. She took a deep breath and seemed to physically shake off the sadness. “Riley’s an only child, too. It can be lonely.”

  “He seems lonely.” Hannah kicked herself mentally the second the words spilled from her lips. The last thing she should be doing was psychoanalyzing the man who’d made himself her guardian angel. She should just accept his offer of protection for what it was and try not to get any more involved.

  She’d already made the mistake of falling for a guy who was hung up on another woman and lived to regret it. She had no intention of making the same mistake again.

  But Jane wasn’t ready to drop the subject, apparently. “He’s a complicated guy.”

  “I know about his wife’s death.” And understood his thirst for justice better than he might have imagined. Her own brother, J.D., whose wife had been murdered several years ago, was still waiting for justice as well.

  She wondered if either man would get what they wanted.

  Jane gave her a sidelong look. “I didn’t know Emily. She had died about a year before I met Joe. He tells me Riley used to be very different. Clowning around, always the one to crack a joke—” She stopped herself. “Like I said, complicated.”

  Han
nah resisted the temptation to push for more information. She was here for only a few more days, and her focus needed to be on remembering the lost details of her ordeal with the fake cop, not on Riley Patterson’s tragic past.

  She quickly changed the subject. “Is this your first child?”

  “Yeah.” Jane rubbed her belly. “Joe keeps talking about lots of kids. I told him he can carry the rest of them.”

  Hannah grinned, deciding she liked Jane Garrison. She wasn’t what you’d call pretty, exactly, with her freckle-spotted face and unruly brown curls, but her emerald eyes were full of life and laughter, and when she smiled, Hannah couldn’t help smiling back.

  “I missed my mother’s pregnancies, being the youngest. But my brothers tell me stories that would curl your hair.”

  Jane chuckled. “Scooter here has been pretty good for most of the pregnancy, but now that I’m nearing the goal line, he’s started kicking up a storm—”

  “And you love it.”

  Riley’s deep voice from the doorway drew Hannah’s gaze. She felt suddenly, intensely aware of him as he entered the room, his boots thumping against the hardwood floor with each step. He’d shed the leather jacket and dress shirt for a dark-blue T-shirt. A sizzle of pure attraction shot through Hannah’s body, settling low in her belly. It simmered there, spreading warmth through her veins.

  She tamped it down ruthlessly. The last time she’d let her heart and hormones lead her head, she’d ended up heartbroken and humiliated.

  “Joe’s on the phone with Jim Tanner,” Riley told Jane, holding out his hand to her. “He said to round you up and head you in the direction of the front door. You’re supposed to be resting like a good mama-to-be.”

  Jane rolled her eyes. “See what I have to put up with?” But she let Riley help her from the rocking chair, and the look of affection she gave him when he ruffled her curls made Hannah smile. Jane waggled her fingers at Hannah. “Call if you need anything. Riley has our number.”

  “I will,” Hannah agreed, though she didn’t plan on imposing on the Garrisons or Riley if she could avoid it.

 

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