Avalanche of Trouble

by Cindi Myers

  And if it was, what in the world was she going to do about it?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Casey’s sobs subsided after a few minutes and she pulled out of Gage’s arms and went into the bathroom. Maya was still looking at Gage with that mix of awe and compassion that made his heart stumble in its rhythm. “Your shirt is wet,” she said, nodding to the place on his shoulder where Casey’s tears had soaked through the fabric.

  “It’ll dry.” He went to the window and checked the locks. “I don’t think anyone saw us driving over here, and we can trust Paige and Travis not to spread the word. We’re putting an extra officer on duty to keep an eye on the B and B, in case the man who attacked you comes back.”

  “This is crazy,” she said. “Casey is just a little girl. Why would anyone want to hurt her? But why would anyone want to kill Angela and Greg? None of this makes sense.”

  He turned away from the window and saw that she had wrapped her arms around herself, as if trying to ward off a chill. “Come here,” he said.

  “Why?”

  So I can try to kiss that frown off your face. What would she do if he said that? But with Casey liable to walk back in the room any second, he reined in his desire. “I want to take a look at your head,” he said.

  She came to stand by him and he examined the wound on the back of her head. Blood had crusted in the roots of her hair, and she flinched when he touched the swollen lump. “Sorry,” he said. “Do you want to take a shower and clean that up?”

  “Yes.” She glanced at Casey, who came out of the bathroom and began arranging the trio of stuffed animals on the bed.

  “Don’t worry about Casey,” he said. “I’ll watch her while you’re in the shower.”

  “Have you had much experience with five-year-olds?”

  “Pretty much none, but I think I can manage for twenty minutes or so, while you clean up.”

  She got Casey’s attention and signed to her—Gage assumed she was explaining the situation. Casey sent him a look he couldn’t interpret, then nodded, apparently agreeing with the plan. Maya gathered her things and went into the bathroom. Casey watched after her, a worried look on her face.

  Gage tapped the little girl’s arm and motioned for her to follow him into the other room. Now what? He looked around the room for something to entertain a child. There was television, but that struck him as a cop-out. And would she really enjoy the show if she couldn’t hear it?

  Inspiration struck. He picked up a pillow and pointed to it, eyebrows raised in a questioning look. Casey looked doubtful, then made a sign with her hands. He tried to imitate it, which elicited a fit of giggles. She made the sign again, more slowly. A gesture like someone cradling a pillow to her head. That made sense. He copied the gesture and she nodded and gave him a thumbs-up.

  Gage set aside the pillow and picked up a book. Casey put her palms together, then opened them, as if she was opening a book. All right! That was easy. He copied her and they were off. For the next fifteen minutes, he would pick an object, Casey would demonstrate the sign for that object and Gage would do his best to copy her, his efforts rewarded with a mixture of giggles, frowns and encouraging nods.

  Maya, hair still damp and smelling of a floral soap, appeared in the doorway. “What are you two doing?” she asked.

  “Casey is teaching me sign language,” Gage said.

  Casey signed to Maya, her fingers moving too rapidly for Gage to follow. Obviously, he still had a lot to learn.

  “I asked her if you’re a good student,” Maya said.

  “What’s the verdict?” he asked.

  “She says you’re pretty good.”

  “Tell her I have a good teacher.” His sheriff’s department phone rang. “I have to answer this,” he said, and went into his home office.

  “Hey,” Travis said when Gage answered. “How are things going?”

  “They’re going good. Casey’s teaching me sign language.”

  “That’s good. I called to update you on the report from the Bear’s Den. The techs didn’t find anything to point to our killer.”

  “I wasn’t holding out much hope that they would.”

  “No,” Travis agreed. “The attacker knew enough to wear gloves, and none of the neighbors noticed him entering the B and B. People go in and out of there all the time, so one more person would be pretty much invisible—especially if he had a key.”

  “We’ll try the local locksmiths,” Gage said. “But I’m not holding out much hope.”

  “Also, I got the report on Henry Hake’s car,” Travis said. “Thought you’d want to hear it.”

  “Sure. What did they find?” He leaned back against the desk. Casey’s laughter drifted from the other room. Amazing how she could laugh, after all she had been through.

  “Hake wasn’t in the car and neither were his prints,” Travis said. “It had been wiped clean.”

  “Any idea how long the car had been down there?” Gage asked.

  “Nothing certain, but long enough for the leaves on the tree branches it broke on the way down to turn brown.”

  “So it could have been down there since shortly after he disappeared.”

  “That would be my guess. I’m going to try again to get in touch with the men who invested in the resort. According to Hake’s assistant, they called a lot of the shots from behind the scenes. Maybe he had a dispute with one of them that went wrong.”

  “They’re refusing to talk to you?”

  “So far, they’ve avoided me altogether. The numbers I have go to phones that aren’t answered, and there’s no way to leave a message. I haven’t been pressing it, but now I will.”

  “I still need to make it out to check on those two guys Wade told us about,” Gage said.

  “I sent Dwight out to look for them this afternoon, but he hasn’t come up with anything yet,” Travis said. “Not that Wade gave us much to go on. And we have plenty of other things to keep us busy. We can’t afford to be a man short anytime, but especially right now.”

  If Travis was trying to make Gage feel guilty, it was working. “Tomorrow, Maya and Casey can hang out at the station while I get some work done,” he said. “They’ll be safe there.”

  “I’ve located a police artist who has a lot of experience working with children,” Travis said. “His schedule is open tomorrow. If we can get Darla back over to serve as interpreter, maybe they could meet tomorrow. But that only takes care of one day.”

  “I know. Just give me until tomorrow, at least, to figure something out. Maya was talking earlier about going back to Denver.”

  “She’ll need to go back sometime,” Travis said. “She has a job. And Casey is probably in school.”

  “Yeah.” The idea of Maya leaving—and of Casey leaving, too—tore at him. “I’d feel better about them in Denver if I knew they were safe.”

  “If this guy—or guys, since Casey said there were two of them—are still hanging around town, we’re going to catch them,” Travis said. “They’re going to make a mistake. Though it would help if we knew if this was a random killing, or if it had a connection with something Angela and Greg Hood were involved in.”

  “We’re going to have to dig deeper into their backgrounds,” Gage said. “That’s something else I can start working on here.”

  “Good idea.”

  They ended the call and Gage returned to the living room. Maya was brushing Casey’s hair as the little girl played with her stuffed animals. “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “The technicians didn’t find any evidence at Paige’s place.” He sank into the recliner opposite them. “The man who attacked you probably wore gloves.”

  “I wish I had seen him.” She shook her head. “He came up behind me so fast.”

  “Travis is looking for an artist to work with Casey. In the meantime, it would help if we
knew if your sister and her husband had a previous connection with the killers.”

  “I’ve been wracking my brain, but I can’t think of anyone who would have wanted to kill them.”

  “Who did they purchase that mining claim from?” he asked.

  “It belonged to an elderly couple in Boulder—a professor, I think. He had owned the land for a long time, since he was young. It wasn’t listed for sale. Greg researched land around here and thought this was exactly the kind of place he wanted, so he visited the man and persuaded him to sell.”

  “How old was he?”

  “In his late eighties—almost ninety, I think.”

  Then he probably hadn’t decided to go after the Hoods. “Did he have children or grandchildren who might have objected to the sale?”

  “No. That was one of the reasons Greg was able to persuade him to let it go. He planned to leave most of his estate to charity, and he agreed that cash would be a better gift to leave than these mining claims that couldn’t even be built on.” She laid aside the brush and patted Casey’s shoulder. The girl sat back on the sofa, stuffed toys hugged to her chest, watching the adults.

  “I’m starting to feel bad, keeping you away from your job.”

  “Don’t. And what about your job? When do you have to be back?”

  “I talked to my principal yesterday and let him know what’s going on. Right now I’m on bereavement leave, then I’m entitled to parental leave to get settled in with Casey. That will bring me almost to the end of the semester. We agreed I should probably wait and start again with the new semester in January. It will mean I have to dig into my savings, but I’ll be okay. I’m grateful I’m able to take the time.”

  “What about Casey’s schooling?” he asked.

  “She’s in kindergarten, but I’m not worried about her falling behind.” She smiled down at the little girl. “She’s already reading simple books and counting. She loves learning and is very smart.”

  “I can tell.”

  Casey began signing. “She wants to know if we can have pizza,” Maya translated. She put a hand on her stomach. “I just realized we never had lunch. I was making it when all the commotion happened.”

  Gage stood. “We can definitely have pizza. We even have a good place that delivers.” He turned to Casey. “What kind do you like?”

  He couldn’t interpret her signing and looked to Maya for answers. “Some words don’t have a symbol in American Sign Language,” Maya explained. “So you do what’s called finger spelling—spelling out each letter. She just told you she likes pepperoni.”

  “I’m impressed,” he said. “That’s a pretty big word for a five-year-old.”

  “Well, she misspelled it, but she was close enough I understood,” Maya said. “I have this theory that ASL makes kids—and probably their parents, too—better spellers. But I could be wrong. Anyway, if you really want to learn ASL, start memorizing the alphabet. If you don’t know the sign for something, you can always finger-spell. It’s awkward, but you’ll get your point across.”

  “Good to know. Any other requests for the pizza?”

  “Just pepperoni. It’s my favorite, too.”

  “One pepperoni pizza coming up.”

  * * *

  BY THE TIME the pizza arrived, Maya was beginning to feel more relaxed than she had since coming to Eagle Mountain. Yes, there was still too much unsettled in her life, and she could never forget that Casey was still in danger. But for whole minutes at a time, she was able to put aside her grief and fear and simply be with Gage and Casey.

  Though Casey stayed close, the child seemed less sad and silent than she had been earlier. She continued to sign to Gage and laugh at his awkward responses. Those giggles were like a balm to all the ragged edges in Maya’s spirit.

  They followed up pizza with more signing lessons, and then Maya noticed Casey’s eyelids beginning to droop. No wonder, considering the past couple of days she had had. “I think it’s time for a bath and then bed,” she signed.

  Predictably, Casey tried to argue. When Maya wouldn’t budge, she tried a different gambit. “I’m supposed to have a story at bedtime,” she signed.

  “What did she say?” Gage asked. “Why are you frowning like that?”

  “She’s asking for a bedtime story,” Maya said. “I don’t suppose you have any children’s books around here.”

  He actually turned and studied his bookcase, as if someone might have stashed a copy of The Poky Little Puppy there when he wasn’t looking. “I’m not seeing anything,” he said. “But go ahead and give her a bath and I’ll see what I can come up with.”

  She hauled a reluctant Casey to the bathroom, the little girl’s spirits improving when Maya added a generous dollop of bath gel to the water, creating satisfying bubbles, with which Casey amused herself until her fingers and toes were well wrinkled. Maya toweled her off and helped her into pink pajamas.

  In the bedroom, they found Gage waiting, a hardbound book in his hand. “What have you got there?” Maya asked.

  “It’s a photo album my mom gave me a couple of Christmases ago.” He sat on the edge of the bed and opened the book. “She made one for each of us kids.”

  Casey slid under the covers, then leaned forward to study the first pictures. Maya sat on Casey’s other side and leaned over her. The picture was of three children—two boys and a girl—each on horseback. “Is that you?” Maya asked, pointing to the middle child, who clearly had Gage’s eyes.

  “That’s me and Travis and our sister, Emily. I thought I’d tell a story about growing up on the ranch, and you can translate.”

  Casey clapped her hands at this news, and her fingers began flying. “She wants to know what your horse’s name was and if you had cows,” Maya asked.

  “The horse was named Rusty. I got him when he was three and I was ten. He still lives on the ranch. And we had plenty of cows. Hundreds of them.”

  Maya listened, as enthralled as Casey, as Gage told about growing up on a cattle and horse ranch near Eagle Mountain, doing chores around the ranch, riding horses, exploring old mines and having what sounded like an idyllic childhood. As Gage flipped through the album, pausing over pictures of him and his siblings and parents and a series of orphaned calves, stray dogs and injured birds Gage had nursed back to health, she got a sense of a fun-loving but intensely compassionate kid who had grown into a man determined to right wrongs and defend the defenseless.

  By the end of the album, Casey’s eyes were closed, and she only murmured sleepily when Maya and Gage each kissed her good-night. Leaving the light in the adjacent bathroom on as a night-light, Maya switched off the lamp and she and Gage tiptoed from the room. He put his arm around her and she leaned into him. I could get used to this, she thought. Another voice warned her that this wasn’t her real life—not the one she belonged in, where she lived in the city and taught school and did her best to raise her niece without the help and protection of this small-town lawman. Gage was a wonderful man, but she didn’t really belong in his world, or he in hers.

  “Can I get you anything?” Gage asked. “A glass of wine or some tea?”

  “No, I’m fine.” They sat next to each other on the sofa. “I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us,” she said. “I know part of it’s your job, but—”

  He put his hand over hers, silencing her. “You know this isn’t just about the job,” he said. “I wanted to help. I only wish I could do more.”

  Her eyes met his and the pull of something deep inside of her drew her to him. She tilted her head up and his lips found hers, and a tension she hadn’t even acknowledged eased, like a flower bud breaking open. He pulled her close, his heat enveloping her, his heartbeat a strong, steady rhythm against her chest. Desire burned off the last remnants of inhibition and suddenly all she wanted—all she needed—was to be close to him, to love and be loved and
to let that love obliterate all the worry and fear and uncertainty that had come to define her life.

  He pulled her over into his lap, one hand cradling her hip, the other caressing her breast. She arched to him, the evidence of his desire hard against her thigh. He trailed kisses along her jaw, then pressed his lips to the pulse at the base of her throat. She slid one hand between the buttons of his shirt, fingers brushing across the hair on his chest, a thrill piercing her.

  “You know I want you.” He spoke the words against her throat, his voice a low growl.

  “Yes.” It was all the speech she could manage, her senses overwhelmed. He brushed his hand across the tip of her breast and she moaned and shifted against him, aching to be closer still.

  His hand stilled, and he rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Maybe we should go into the bedroom,” he said. “We don’t want Casey coming out and finding us like this.”

  Casey! Guilt doused all passion like a bucket of icy water. How could she have forgotten about Casey? She pushed away from Gage. “If she wakes up and comes looking for me, I can’t risk her not finding me,” she said.

  The lines around the corners of his eyes deepened and he looked pained, but he nodded. “You’re right.” He eased her off his lap. “Sorry. Lousy timing.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, chilled already without his warmth. She had a sudden flash of a future full of moments like this—of passion cooled by the weight of her responsibilities. Not that she had ever had a very active love life up until now, but being responsible for a small child seemed to limit her opportunities even more. Not every man was likely to be as understanding as Gage.

  “I don’t know whether to be flattered or concerned that you look so sad,” he said.

  She shook her head, trying to banish the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her. “I was just thinking about all the things that are going to change in my life now,” she said. “I mean, I’ve known things would be different since I got your call about Angie and Greg. But I think the reality of that is only just now beginning to sink in. And I’m also realizing how much I don’t know—how much I can’t anticipate.”