Mountain of Evidence

by Cindi Myers

  “It doesn’t usually happen on this scale,” Dance said. “This goes way beyond a little littering.”

  “Maybe if we test it, we can determine where it came from,” Beck said.

  “We can’t test every rock,” Dance argued.

  “We’ll test a few samples,” Grant said. “But we don’t have the budget to test everything. I think our best bet is to get officers to watch the area for a few days and nights, patrol the area more frequently, maybe see if we can get a camera or two out here and see if we can come up with anything.”

  “They might be done dumping,” Dance said.

  “They might, but if they’ve gotten away with this so far, they might decide to continue,” Grant said. “They might believe they’ve found a good way to make some extra money without a lot of hassle.”

  “If I find them, they’ll know hassle,” Dance said. “It’s going to cost the government—in other words, taxpayers—a fortune to clean all this up.”

  “We’ll hold off on cleanup for a bit,” Grant said. “Let’s see if the people responsible for this show up.”

  “I’ll make a schedule for surveillance and see about setting up a couple of cameras,” Dance said.

  “I can find out who’s got a big construction project going on in the area,” Beck said. “This isn’t a simple house build, unless it’s a monster of a house.”

  “Good thinking,” Grant said. He left Beck and Dance to hash out details while he returned to his cruiser. But he didn’t leave right away. He pulled out some paperwork to complete, but sat with it resting beside him, as he stared out at the landscape of turreted stone and sage-covered hills. So different from any view he ever had in DC.

  But then, he had wanted a change. A fresh start.

  His thoughts turned to Eve. She could have no doubt how he felt about her after the kiss they had shared, but still she held back. He thought he knew why—despite her protests, she was still in love with Dane Trask. Even after his disappearing act, the manipulative SOB had his hold on her, getting her entangled in his troubles.

  His radio crackled. “Commander?” Dance’s voice emerged from the static.

  “I hear you,” Grant answered.

  “Hang on a minute. I’ve got something you should see.”

  Grant looked up and thought he could make out a figure in the distance moving toward him. After a moment, he could recognize Dance, carrying something in one hand.

  Grant stepped out of the cruiser to meet his officer. “We just found this up under some of the construction debris,” Dance said. He held out a clear evidence pouch. In it was a torn, muddy piece of eight-and-a-half-by-eleven paper with a crude crayon drawing. Grant studied the figure in the drawing, which might have been a man or a monster or even a robot—red crayon tracing a boxy, broad-shouldered figure with an oversize head and a wild tangle of black hair. “It looks like a kid’s drawing,” he said, returning it to Dance.

  “I don’t think it came from a mine,” Dance said. “There’s a name on it.” He pointed to a scribble in the corner that Grant hadn’t picked up on. “Max” was scrawled in a pale green crayon.

  “Log it in,” Grant said. “Maybe we can connect it to someone.” He opened the cruiser door. “Let me know if you find anything else like this.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dance went back to the search and Grant started the cruiser’s engine. That kid’s drawing had made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was so out of place out here. He tried to shake off the feeling. That was the thing about this job. Do it long enough and pretty soon it was easy to see even something innocent as sinister.

  * * *

  EVE LOOKED UP from an anniversary arrangement she was finishing to greet the customer who had just walked in. She was surprised, and pleased, to see Audra Trask. Audra, Dane’s twenty-three-year-old daughter, had her father’s blue eyes, dark hair and delicate features that must have come from her mother. Audra had always been friendly and welcoming to Eve, never the stereotype of the jealous only child. “It’s so wonderful to see you,” Eve said, coming out from behind the counter to embrace the younger woman.

  “I’ve been meaning to stop by and say hello for months now and time keeps getting away from me,” Audra said.

  “I’m glad you finally made it,” Eve said. “What have you been up to?”

  “I’ve been super busy with the preschool.” Audra ran a hand through her hair, though this did nothing to tame her thick mane. “That’s why I’m here, actually. I need to order some flowers for our parents’ luncheon on the twenty-first.”

  “I’m sure I can help you.” Eve moved behind the counter once more and took out an order form. “Do you have something particular in mind?”

  “No. I’m hoping you can help me decide.”

  “Tell me your budget and how many arrangements you’re looking for and we’ll see what we can come up with.”

  For the next half hour they looked through photographs of possible arrangements and discussed the merits of carnations versus daisies, possible color combinations and possible vases. Audra settled on six table arrangements in ceramic containers that resembled stacks of alphabet blocks, with yellow daisies, blue delphinium and white carnations. “Those are going to be perfect,” Audra declared as she signed the order forms. “And at the end of the luncheon, I’ll give away the arrangements as door prizes. That way I won’t have to worry about storing and moving those cute vases.”

  “You’re moving?” Eve asked. She separated the multipart form and slid Audra’s copy across to her.

  “Only down the street. I’m going to have a brand-new facility, as part of the new elementary school.”

  “That’s wonderful. When will you be moving?”

  “We’re supposed to be in the new place by the end of August.” She folded the papers and slipped them into her purse. “I can’t wait. Business has been good, so we could use the extra space. Hey, you should stop by some time and I’ll give you a tour of the new place.”

  “I’d love that.”

  She expected Audra to say goodbye and leave, but the young woman lingered. “I guess you’ve heard all this stuff in the news about Dad,” she said.

  “Yes.” Eve kept her expression guarded. “It’s been a real shock.”

  “It’s been horrible!” Audra hugged her arms across her middle. “I don’t know why Dad disappeared, but whatever is going on, he’s not a murderer. You know he isn’t.”

  “I know,” Eve agreed. No matter what scenario she put together in her mind, she could never come up with one in which Dane would cut the throat of a woman—especially one she was sure he didn’t know.

  “And all these stories I keep reading about Dad hiding out in the wilderness, stealing campers’ food and stuff.” Audra shook her head. “It’s ridiculous. If Dad did run away, for whatever reason, why wouldn’t he skip to the Caribbean or South America or something? Sure, he always liked hiking and camping, but nobody likes it that much.”

  Audra’s indignation almost made Eve smile. “Have you heard from your father at all?” she asked.

  “Not a word. Which kind of ticks me off when I think about it, you know? I mean, he slipped his admin, Cara, a couple of flash drives but he couldn’t even drop me—his daughter—a note to let me know he’s okay.” She studied Eve. “Have you heard from him?”

  “It wasn’t like a personal note or anything,” Eve said. “He sent me a press release accusing TDC of cutting corners with their mine mitigation project. I think he sent it to me because I used to work for the paper.”

  “Huh.” Audra frowned. “This whole thing is just crazy. I’m worried about him and scared for him and I really don’t have time for any of it.”

  “Exactly,” Eve said. “I couldn’t have said it better.”

  Audra flashed a brief smile. “Good. When he gets back, we can take
turns yelling at him.” She hitched her purse up higher on her shoulder. “I’d better get going. It was good to see you again.”

  “It was good to see you, too.”

  Audra left and Eve returned to work on the anniversary arrangement. When the doorbell sounded again, she expected it to be her customer, picking up his order, but when she looked up, she was startled to see Toby Masterson, all charismatic smile and rugged good looks.

  “Hello, Eve,” he said. He crossed to the front counter and rested both palms on the top. Heart pounding, she leaned away from him, determined not the show fear. “I think it’s past time you and I had a little talk.”

  “I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Masterson.” Eve said. She focused on the flower arrangement, doing her best to ignore him.

  “Actually, I came in to buy some flowers,” Masterson said.

  Eve wasn’t sure she believed him, but she would play along. “What can I get for you?” she asked.

  “What do you think is appropriate for an apology?” he asked.

  “Roses are a classic,” she said. “Though it depends on the recipient and what he or she likes.”

  “What do you like?” he asked, moving closer, until only the counter separated them.

  Eve forced herself to meet Masterson’s gaze. “I don’t like men who play games,” she said. “Or those who lie to me. I especially don’t like those who threaten me.”

  He held up both hands in a gesture of surrender. “Whoa. I never threatened you.”

  “You said Dane was a threat, which was just as bad.”

  “I’m sorry if I came on too strong the first couple of times we met.” His smile turned ingratiating. “I tend to do that whenever I’m really passionate about a subject.”

  She didn’t return the smile. “Apology accepted. Now I really do have to get back to work.” She picked up a spike of lemon grass and pretended to study the arrangement in progress. But she was hyperaware of the man across the counter. She could smell the exotic fragrance of his cologne, mixed with a hint of mint. Chewing gum? A breath mint?

  “I’d like to start over with you,” he said. “The truth is, beautiful women always make me nervous.”

  It could have been the worst pickup line ever, but he managed to make it sound sincere. “What do you want, Mr. Masterson?” she asked.

  “Toby,” he said. “And really, all I want is to go out with you.”

  She stared at him. “Do you mean a date?”

  “Yeah.” He tucked both hands in the front pockets of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. “To tell you the truth, I was always jealous of Dane. I saw him with you a couple of times and stupid as it sounds, I developed this big crush on you.” He put a hand over his heart. “I really thought I was too old for that kind of thing, but I guess not.” Another smile, endearing this time.

  Eve had to admit, he was getting to her. “You saw me with Dane?”

  “At Welcome Home Warriors headquarters. You didn’t see me. I was just another guy in the background. But you just struck me right away as someone special. And I don’t know—I thought he kind of took you for granted.” He shrugged. “Maybe that was just wishful thinking on my part.”

  Dane had taken her for granted. It was one of the things they had argued about, at the end, after he had made it clear no one could change his mind about having more children.

  “When I heard the two of you had broken up, I wasted months working up the nerve to ask you out myself,” Masterson said. “And then Dane did his disappearing act and I got really worried about you.”

  “Dane had his faults, but he was never violent,” she said. “Certainly not toward me.”

  “Well, you probably know him better than I did.” He took his hands out of his pockets and rested them on the counter once more. “So will you give me another chance? Let me take you to dinner. One date. If it doesn’t work out, I promise I’ll take it like a man.”

  For some reason, his choice of words amused her. Still, she was reluctant to say yes.

  Masterson’s expression sobered. “You’re not involved with anyone, are you?” he asked. “That guy you were with the other night?”

  The mention of Grant sent a pain through her. She was so attracted to him—and he was so wrong for her.

  She remembered what Sarah had said about Eve having a type. Toby Masterson, with his rugged good looks and military background, was cut from the same cloth as Dane. Maybe she could be attracted to him if she let herself. And she had vowed to date anyone who asked her out until she found the man. “All right,” she said. “I’ll have dinner with you.”

  He grinned, and took a step back from the counter. “That’s terrific. Is tomorrow night okay? I could pick you up at your place, or here.”

  “My place would be fine.”

  She gave him her address and he left the shop and almost swaggered down the sidewalk. Dane had walked like that sometimes, a man in command of his world.

  She shouldn’t think about Dane now, or whatever had gone wrong with his world. She was making a new life now. Maybe Toby Masterson could be a part of it.

  * * *

  MITCH RUFFINO REMINDED Grant of a scrappy terrier—the kind who growled at anyone who came near, and puffed up its hair to make itself as large as possible. While the vice president of TDC Enterprises didn’t exactly growl when Grant entered his office, he did scowl, throw back his shoulders, and make it clear he didn’t want this meeting to go on any longer than necessary. “Instead of wasting your time questioning me, you should be out there finding Dane Trask,” he said. “The man is a thief and a murderer.”

  The Montrose County Sheriff’s Department was investigating the embezzlement charges against Trask, so Grant was unfamiliar with the evidence in the case. The Ranger Brigade’s investigation into the murder of Marsha Grandberry was stalled due to a lack of evidence. Whether or not Trask was the murderer, the Rangers were actively trying to find him because he was someone who had gone missing in their jurisdiction. “We are doing everything we can to locate Trask,” he said, no contrition or apology in his tone. He was merely stating fact. And his next words, though some might have read them as conciliatory, held the same note of command. “It would be helpful if you would share whatever tips you’ve gleaned from your reward hotline.”

  “I doubt we’ve received anything that would be of use to you,” Ruffino said.

  “Nevertheless, I want to see what you have.”

  Ruffino made a motion as if he was shooing away a fly. “Of course. I’ll get back to you on that.”

  Which wasn’t exactly a promise to cooperate, but Grant wouldn’t press. “Tell me about Dane Trask’s work,” he said.

  Ruffino’s nostrils flared, and Grant was reminded again of a dog. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “What exactly did he do? What was he working on before he disappeared? Who was he close to? How did he have access to the funds you’re accusing him of embezzling?”

  “I don’t see that any of that is relevant.” Ruffino tapped his fingertips impatiently on the desktop.

  “I’m trying to get an idea of his frame of mind, and what might have triggered him to leave.”

  “You already know that,” Ruffino said. “He left because he realized his theft had been discovered and he would soon be arrested. He ran like the coward he is.”

  “His military record isn’t that of a coward,” Grant said. Trask had received several commendations and silver and bronze stars during his military career. None of his actions even now struck Grant as those of a coward.

  “Civilian life is very different from the military,” Ruffino said, though Grant doubted the man had ever served. “But to answer your question, he was working on several projects for us, none of which could have been related to his disappearance. They were very routine. The kind of thing TDC does every day.”

 
“Which projects, specifically?”

  “I don’t know offhand. I’ll have to get back to you on that.”

  “Given your interest in Trask, I would have thought you would know exactly what he was working on before he left,” Grant said.

  Ruffino’s gaze hardened. “Then you’d be wrong.” He snatched a sheaf of papers from his in-box and tapped them pointedly on the desktop. “I’m a very busy man and I really can’t help you. If I knew anything that could aid in finding Trask, he would be found—and in prison, where he belongs.”

  “Acting uncooperative is a good way to hide what you do know,” Grant said. “But it’s not a technique that works for very long.” He took a step back, toward the door, but keeping his gaze fixed on Ruffino. “Whatever it is you don’t want me to know, I’m going to find out. And I’m going to remember that you didn’t want to tell me.”

  The tips of Ruffino’s ears flared red, though the rest of his face was bone white. “I don’t appreciate law enforcement trying to intimidate me,” he said. “I will be filing a complaint with your superiors.”

  Grant nodded. “You have that right. But it won’t stop me from digging.”

  Ruffino didn’t answer, only glared at Grant until the latter turned and left. He had dealt with the vice president’s type before—men used to stonewalling and throwing their weight around—until they ran into someone bigger and harder than they were. They would hide behind their power as long as they could, but in the end Grant would dig out their secrets. He couldn’t tell yet if what Ruffino hid was criminal or merely venal, but he thought it might connect to Dane Trask, and that made it Grant’s business.

  He was halfway down the hall when a familiar figure stepped out of a door to his left. Toby Masterson stopped and watched his approach, his handsome face impassive. “What are you doing here, Commander?” he asked when Grant was even with him.

  “My job,” Grant said.

  Masterson looked past Grant, toward the vice president’s office, the only office at that end of the hallway. “Then that makes two of us.”