Avalanche of Trouble

by Cindi Myers

  “Definitely.” She arched against him and he reached around and unfastened her bra and slipped it off. Closing his eyes, he savored the feel of her against him—soft heat and firm curves that made him doubly grateful to be a man here with her right now.

  As he pulled the bra out of the way, she walked backward to the edge of the bed, dragging him down on top of her. She stared into his eyes, and he glimpsed need and hope. “Make me forget everything else,” she said. “Just for a while.”

  He did his best to fulfill her request, pleasuring her with his hands and his mouth, learning the contours of her body and reveling in her exploration of his. Neither of them hurried, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from the moment. By the time he slicked on a condom and positioned himself over her, they were both panting and trembling with need. She welcomed him inside of her and they moved together with both the awkwardness of new lovers and the confidence of two souls who knew each other well. When her climax shuddered through her, he gave a cry of triumph and followed after her.

  Afterward, they lay beside each other, silent and sated. If he had had the energy left for words, he would have said he had loved her with all of his being, and she had loved him with all of hers. The idea amazed him. Always before, sex had been about pleasure or release, about having fun and making sure his partner was satisfied as well as himself. He hadn’t needed or wanted love to be part of the equation.

  “That was exactly what I needed.” She rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder, her body curled against his. “I feel like myself again.”

  “Glad I could help.” He caressed her shoulder, keeping his voice light. He needed time to process these new feelings before he bared his soul.

  A buzzing from somewhere near the floor disturbed their languid silence. “Is that your phone?” she asked.

  “Yes.” He sat up on the side of the bed and groped for his pants. He was composing a tart reply for whoever had interrupted them when he saw that the call was from Travis. “What do you need?” he asked.

  “The artist has finished working with Casey,” his brother said. “You need to get over here and see this.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The drawing tacked to the conference room whiteboard showed a burly man with a prominent nose, high cheekbones, sharp chin and lips curled in a sneer. A black knit cap pulled low over his forehead hid his hair, and dark sunglasses obscured his eyes. Maya wrapped her arms around herself and suppressed a shudder. This was the person who had killed her sister and brother-in-law and attacked her? No wonder Casey was terrified of him.

  “I did the best I could,” Tim said. “But from a child’s perspective, this is what a bad guy looks like—larger than life, you might say.” He began packing up his supplies. “Casey didn’t want to talk about him at first, but we played some games and I got her to loosen up and confide in me. She’s a very intelligent child—very aware.”

  Darla had taken Casey to another part of the station for a snack so the other adults could consult in private. “I hope talking about this man didn’t upset her too much,” Maya said.

  “In my experience, talking about someone they’re afraid of this way—actively participating in efforts to stop him—is very comforting for children,” Tim said. “It reminds them the person is human, with a particular kind of nose and a chin and lips and all the little details every other person shares. It demystifies them somewhat.”

  Gage studied the image, frowning. “It’s like a cartoon villain, isn’t it—exaggerated features.”

  “Like I said—larger than life.” Tim nodded to the drawing. “He was always wearing the cap and sunglasses when she saw him, which makes it impossible to know details like his hair and eyes. I used my computer program to tone down the features a little and make some guesses on the hair and eyes, but they’re just speculation.” He picked up a stack of papers from the table and handed them to Gage. Maya moved to look over his shoulder as he paged through half a dozen drawings of men who were similar to, but not exactly like, the drawing on the whiteboard.

  “Do any of those look familiar to you?” she asked Gage.

  “Yes and no.” He set the stack of drawings aside. “There’s something familiar about him, but maybe more as a type than as a specific person. We’ll distribute the main drawing and see if anyone comes up with anything. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

  “Even when I have an adult witness who got a good look at a suspect, the drawing doesn’t always produce results,” Tim said. “People don’t always pay much attention to other people, and context matters a lot.”

  “If you don’t think of your brother or your neighbor as a bad person, it’s hard to see them in a drawing of a criminal,” Gage said. “Thanks for trying, anyway.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Maya said. “It sounds like you’ve helped Casey, and that means a lot.”

  “I was happy to help,” Tim said. “Good luck to you.”

  He left and Gage unpinned the drawing from the board. “We’ll get some copies of these made to send out,” he said.

  “I want to see Casey,” Maya said. “I need to make sure she really is all right.”

  “The two of you will need to hang out here for another few hours,” Gage said. “Then we can head back to my place.”

  Another night at Gage’s place, where they would be safe but still so unsettled. As much as she loved being with him, her life wasn’t here in this small town. Her life—her job, her home, her friends and everything Casey had ever known—was back in Denver. They needed to get back there, to establish a routine that would help them both to heal.

  But as long as a killer pursued them, she didn’t see a way for that to happen. They were stuck in limbo and the longer they stayed, the more appealing Eagle Mountain seemed.

  Running footsteps heralded Casey’s approach. She burst into the room and ran to throw her arms around Maya in a hug. Then she turned and embraced Gage, as well. He looked both surprised and pleased as he patted her back, then awkwardly signed “Hello.”

  “She certainly has taken to Deputy Walker.” Darla spoke from the doorway. “She told me she’s been teaching him sign language.”

  “She’s always been an outgoing little girl,” Maya said.

  “I think this is more than her natural friendliness,” Darla said. “I think she trusts that Gage is going to help her and keep her safe. That kind of security is especially important to her right now.”

  “I think she’ll feel even more secure when she’s back home in Denver,” Maya said.

  “That’s when the loss of her parents will hit the hardest, I think,” Darla said. “You’ll both have to work through your grief. I hope you have friends you can lean on.”

  Angie had been her closest friend. Maya had never had to go through any difficulty in life without her. She would have to build a new support system for her and for Casey. Why had Angela and Greg ever thought they had needed to buy those old mining claims? If they had stayed home, they never would have run into their killer. They would be alive and their family intact right now.

  Casey tugged on her hand. “Come play this game Tim showed me,” she signed.

  Maya forced a cheerful expression to her face. “Sure,” she signed. “That will be fun.”

  For the next hour, she and Casey played a variation of hangman, in which the object was to guess the word the other player had come up with before a complete face was drawn. Maya could see that this was a clever way to get the little girl to think about the different shapes people’s noses, eyes and lips took.

  “Did it upset you to talk to Tim about the man who tried to take you?” Maya asked.

  “At first I was scared, remembering,” Casey signed. “But after a bit it was easier, somehow. And Tim said I could help them stop him from hurting anyone again, and that made me feel good.”

  “You’re the best, bravest gir
l I know,” Maya signed and hugged her close.

  “I miss Mommy and Daddy.” Casey buried her face in Maya’s side.

  “I miss them, too,” Maya whispered and rubbed Casey’s back, trying to comfort both herself and her niece.

  Casey fell asleep and Maya sat with her, her mind replaying the events of the past few days, marveling at how much her life had changed in such a short span of time. Later in the afternoon, after Casey had awakened from her nap and resumed scribbling on the drawing pad, Gage leaned into the conference room. “Are you two ready to head back to my place?” he asked. He did a pretty good job of making the signs for “going home,” and Casey nodded enthusiastically, her ponytail bobbing.

  “I thought I’d grill burgers for supper, if that’s okay,” he said when they were in his SUV, headed to his house.

  “I’ll help,” Maya said. When he started to protest, she said, “Casey should eat some vegetables, so I’ll put together a salad or something.”

  So they ended up working side by side in the kitchen, while Casey set the table and arranged and rearranged the silverware. It was all so easy and companionable—and Maya told herself not to get too comfortable. This was all temporary, never meant to last.

  After supper, they did dishes, then Casey and Gage practiced more sign language. “You’ve been practicing,” Maya said when he successfully ran through the finger-spelled alphabet.

  “It’s interesting,” he said. “And I found a bunch of videos online last night after you went to bed that show a lot of signs.”

  “He’s a fast learner,” Casey signed.

  Yes, and he had very quickly made a place for himself in their lives. She stood. “Time for you to get ready for bed,” she told Casey.

  “Can’t I stay up a little longer? I want to look at more of Gage’s pictures.”

  Maya translated this for Gage and he held up both hands, a clear sign that he was having no part in this argument. “Come on,” Maya signed. “You can have another bubble bath.”

  This bribe worked, and Casey had her bath and was already yawning by the time Maya helped her into her pajamas. Maya kissed her good-night, then returned to the living room.

  “You look like you could use this,” Gage said, handing her a glass of wine.

  She started to say something flirtatious, about how he was trying to get her tipsy to take advantage of her, or about how he was what she really could use. But she couldn’t afford to give in to that temptation. Like pulling a bandage off a wound, she needed to do this quickly, before she lost her nerve. “I’ve decided tomorrow we need to go back to Denver,” she said.

  He set his own glass on the table beside the sofa. “I don’t like that idea,” he said.

  “Casey has given you all the information she can, and we need to get back sooner rather than later,” she said. “The longer we delay, the harder it’s going to be to face starting over without Angela and Greg. And I have so many arrangements to make—for their memorial services, for Casey to move in with me and the legal paperwork for her guardianship.” Merely listing it all made her feel overwhelmed.

  “I could help you with all of that if you stayed,” he said.

  “I think I need to handle it myself.”

  He was silent for so long she wondered if he was angry. Did he think because they had made love she owed him something? Or that because he was a law enforcement officer she should give his judgment more weight than her own?

  “If you need anything—anything at all—I’ll be there for you,” he said.

  Some of her resolve melted at the tenderness of his words, but she forced herself to stay strong. “Knowing that you mean that helps more than you could know,” she said.

  He leaned in to kiss her, but she put up a hand to hold him back. “This afternoon was wonderful,” she said. “But I think we had better leave it at that.”

  He drew back. “All right.”

  She stood. “It’s been a long day and tomorrow will be even longer. Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  She lay awake for a long time, listening to Casey’s even breathing beside her. She believed she was making the right decision, but why did she feel so awful? Was it because doing the right thing—the adult thing—was all about hard choices and sacrifices? Now that she was a parent, was she facing a life of doing what she should instead of what she wanted?

  She wasn’t sure when she drifted to sleep, but she woke with a start when Gage shook her shoulder. “Shhh,” he whispered before she could cry out. He motioned her to follow him and moved to the door.

  Careful not to wake Casey, she sat up on the side of the bed, then stood, still groggy, and trailed him into the living room.

  “I’m sorry to wake you,” he said. “But I have to go out. There’s been another break-in at the school, and one at the outdoor store.”

  “The same people?” she asked.

  “Maybe. A reserve officer will be here any minute and he’ll stay with you while I’m gone.”

  “Do you think that’s necessary?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to take any chances.”

  A light knock on the door signaled the arrival of the officer. Gage let him in and introduced him, though Maya, still half-asleep, forgot the name as soon as Gage said it. “Don’t worry about anything, ma’am,” the young man said. “I’ll be right out front.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “I’d better go.” Gage leaned in, as if to kiss her, but instead only patted her shoulder. “Don’t wait up,” he said. “Everything will be fine.”

  But sleep was the last thing on her mind now. She stood at the window and watched Gage get into his SUV, then located the reserve officer, seated in his patrol car parked at the curb in front of the house. Reassured, she went into the kitchen to make tea. She remembered seeing a chamomile blend in the cabinet when she had helped Gage make supper, and she brewed a cup now. As she stirred honey into the tea, she mused that for a supposedly safe small town, Eagle Mountain was certainly experiencing a rash of crime lately. And people thought cities were dangerous.

  The minty, hot beverage soothed her and she began to feel sleepy again. The sight of the patrol car still parked at the curb reassured her, and she headed back to the bedroom and made her way in the darkness to her side of the bed.

  But she sensed something was wrong before she had even pulled the covers to her chin. She rolled over and felt the space beside her—a Casey-shaped indentation that was still warm from the child’s body.

  She sat up and glanced toward the bathroom, thinking Casey had awakened while Maya was in the other room. But the bathroom door was open and the light off. More unsettling, a breeze billowed the curtain of the window on the wall to her right—a window she was certain had been closed before.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “I can’t believe this happened.” Wade Tomlinson raked one hand over his shaved scalp. He had met Gage and Deputy Dwight Prentice at Eagle Mountain Outdoors, dressed in camouflage cargo pants, a University of Northern Colorado sweatshirt and sheepskin slippers. “We’ve been here, what, almost three years, and we’ve never had any problems.”

  “Did you have anyone suspicious in the shop in the last day or two?” Gage asked. “Someone who might have been overly interested in one of the items that was stolen, or someone who questioned you about your habits, where you lived, et cetera?”

  “No. Nobody like that.” Wade shook his head. “I didn’t see anybody who might have been casing the place or anything like that.”

  “What about Brock?” Dwight asked. “Did he mention anyone acting strange?”

  “No.”

  “Where is Brock?” Gage asked. “Does he know about the break-in?”

  “I called and left a message on his cell,” Wade said. “But he isn’t answering.”

  “Does that surpri
se you?” Dwight asked.

  “Not really. He’s been sort of seeing this woman over in Junction. I figure he’s at her place, with his phone switched off.”

  “What is her name?” Dwight asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure he ever told me.” Wade raked his hand over his scalp again and stared at the shattered front window. A large chunk of granite rested in the middle of a display of climbing shoes and technical pants and jackets, pebbles of safety glass like corn snow glinting in the folds of the clothing and along the laces of the shoes. “What am I going to do about my window? Anybody could walk in and take what they want right now.”

  “Call Tommy Milaski over at the hardware store and he’ll open up and sell you some plywood to nail over the window until you can get an insurance appraiser and the glass company out to make repairs,” Gage said. He looked up at the camera in the back corner of the store. “That camera should have footage from the area around the cash register, right? We’ll need to see that.”

  Wade’s expression grew more pained. “That camera isn’t actually connected to anything,” he said. “Brock installed it when we opened the store, but he never got around to hooking it up to the computer. He needed to order some component and then we got busy and...” He shrugged. “We’ve never had problems before.”

  Gage had heard similar stories from other businesses in town. Either they didn’t want to spend the money on a security system or they didn’t see the pressing need for one. It made his job more difficult, but as the business owners pointed out, the need for such evidence rarely came up. He consulted the notebook in his hand. “You’re pretty sure the only things missing are a pair of climbing shoes and the money that was in the cash register?”

  “I’m sure,” Wade said. “They couldn’t get into the safe, and I didn’t see anything out of place. The shoes were right there.” He pointed to a gap in the display. “Intense Gravity Escalon, $67.99.”