Jack turned left on Main Street, which meant he was probably heading for the county offices. She would have asked him to grab a bite with her, but she needed space from the investigation. Time to think about these new developments. And she needed distance from Jack.
She steered toward her grandfather’s ranch, which required her to drive a curvy mountain road for about twenty miles. No one would be there to greet her tonight since Owen and Gramps were in Idaho to meet with an equestrian therapist. She was proud of her brother and hoped he would be able to secure the right connections to make this dream happen. With Gramps accompanying him, the chances were good.
She struggled to keep her mind focused on the road ahead of her. Gripping the steering wheel, she leaned forward, closer to the windshield, as though that would help her vision. Dusk, combined with the steady downpour, made navigating the curvy road troublesome.
A set of headlights had been following her since she left town. Someone else had the same treacherous drive tonight.
Or not.
Darkness seemed to grip her soul. Maybe it was Jim’s murder—stabbed in the back, then tossed from a cliff—along with her discovery today that made her a little paranoid.
The forest she loved so much was no longer safe in this day and age, a morbid fact that was confirmed for her more each day on her job.
As the headlights behind her kept pace, her uneasiness grew. The car behind her was probably just a weary traveler like she was.
To test that theory, she turned down a road that led her away from the ranch. Sure enough, the car turned as well.
Next test.
She increased her speed. If the vehicle following also increased their speed, that would tell her something.
The vehicle not only kept pace—it sped up.
FIFTEEN
At the county sheriff’s office, Jack tried Terra again on his cell as he made his way to his desk. He spotted the familiar poster. Someone had set it on top of the stack of paperwork waiting for him.
Cocker spaniel named Freckles looking for lost boy.
Once again, he’d failed to make it home in time to help Aunt Nadine with the posters. Shame anchored to his chest. Had she come to the county offices to put the posters up and left him one as a reminder? An admonishment? No. That couldn’t be right. He knew her heart, and she wouldn’t have left this here to make him feel guilty.
Terra’s voice mail came up and drew his attention from the poster. He ended his fourth attempt to reach her, and this time he didn’t leave a voice mail.
Plopping into the chair at his desk, he sent her a text.
She could still be on her way to her grandfather’s ranch. And like last night, maybe she was eating dinner with her brother and grandfather and ignoring her phone.
Rubbing his eyes, Jack sighed. He could talk to her in the morning and let her know the team had completed retrieving the artifacts.
“Tough day?” Detective Nathan Campbell dropped into the chair at his own desk and rolled the chair closer to Jack, his nearly black hair a little scruffy for a detective, in Jack’s opinion.
Jack didn’t feel up to trading stories. He held up the poster to Nathan. “You’re working late.”
Nathan’s dark eyes—nearly as black as his hair—warmed. “I saw your aunt. She was putting posters up everywhere today.”
Jack let the poster drop and sighed. “I told her I would help her.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. She was with a couple of her friends. They’re over at the diner right now. I think it’s a knitting club or something.”
Jack eyed his fellow detective and offered a half smile. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Sure thing. Everyone loves your aunt. We’re all watching out for her.”
A lot of people loved Nadine. She’d taken care of kids after school for decades, including Nathan at times. While Jack knew what Nathan said was true, others could only watch out for his aunt to a point. The county seat was big enough that not everyone knew one another.
“Look, I appreciate your attempt to reassure me, but you know as well as I do that this area can be a dangerous place.”
Jim’s murder emphasized that.
And you can’t even make it home to hang a few posters. God, please let that boy find his dog. Or as Aunt Nadine had put it, let the dog find his lost boy.
Nathan rolled back to his desk and shuffled papers.
Jack turned his attention to his own stack. Then he noticed a picture printed off, along with scribbled notes from the deputy coroner. He peered at the notes. He’d asked for information as soon as possible. This wasn’t an official report, but what he read piqued his interest.
Jack stood.
“You heading to the diner?” Nathan asked.
“Nope.” Jack donned his jacket. “Do me a favor. If you’re still here and you happen to see Aunt Nadine leave the diner, would you text me?”
“All right, but you owe me.” The way Nathan’s lips twisted up, Jack knew he was only kidding.
Jack got back into his vehicle and drove through town—the dark, rainy evening requiring all his focus. Lights reflected off the wet streets until he got to the Grayback County Museum, now located where the old county jailhouse had been before it was moved to a new location. Of course, the place was closed, but he spotted a light on inside.
No one answered when he knocked, so he tried again. “Detective Jack Tanner here.”
The door creaked open and a man with spectacles and wispy silver hair frowned at him. Jack grinned. “Howdy. I’m Detective Jack Tanner.”
“We’re closed.”
Jack flipped his credentials open. “As I said, I’m a detective. I have a few questions for you.”
The man opened the door wider. “I’m Dr. Bellinger. Curator and manager. Come in and tell me what this is all about, Detective.”
Jack entered and waited while Dr. Bellinger locked the door again. He gave Jack a shrug. “We’re closed, and I don’t want anyone wandering in.”
“Understood. Thanks for opening up for me. After hours is probably the best time for me to be here though.”
The man adjusted his spectacles as if waiting for Jack to go first.
Jack remained by the door and glanced around the museum featuring the history of the town and the state of Montana. Photos of settlers and farmers and Native American images covered the walls, and glass curio cases displayed artifacts.
Maybe Jack should have talked to Terra about meeting with Dr. Bellinger—this archaeological business was more her expertise.
Still, Jack had his own questions. “You’re working late tonight.”
“Yes. I’m working late. We’re busiest this time of year when the tourists who are late to the party have their last big hooray before the school year begins.”
Jack thought the school year had already started. “Mind if I have a look around?”
The man sighed heavily. “Detective, is there some reason you need to look around at this hour? I was just getting ready to head home. During the day, we have volunteers and college interns who could help.”
“Good thing I caught you then. Why don’t you give me the quick tour?”
“It would help if you could tell me what this is about.”
“Let’s make a deal. Give me the quick tour, and I’ll tell you what it’s about.”
“Very well.”
“Lead on.”
Dr. Bellinger walked slowly through each room and gave a short review of the contents. Jack soaked in all this history, which he’d never much cared about before today. When they were done with the tour, Dr. Bellinger tried to usher Jack to the exit.
“What about in the back? Do you have artifacts stored there or in a secure location that you then move to the main displays when they’re exhibited?”
Dr. Bellinger pursed his lips as if deciding if he would tell Jack he’d have to come back tomorrow, and maybe even with a warrant. Jack wasn’t accusing Dr. Bellinger or the museum of any
thing. “Look, if you have any weaponry, let’s say, knives, for example. I’d like to see those.”
The curator cleared his throat. “Very well. Follow me.”
Jack followed him through the museum and down a dark hallway, where he unlocked another set of doors. “These are climate-controlled rooms to better preserve our artifacts.”
Dr. Bellinger ushered Jack through the door. “You’ll find a display case of weapons over there. I still don’t understand why you would want to see them.”
“Could you turn on more light, please?”
Dr. Bellinger continued to dramatize his displeasure but flipped on all the lights, including the case lights.
Jack perused the display of old weapons—tomahawks and spearheads and knives—some not necessarily what he would consider ancient. But they were artifacts, the museum claimed.
“This one.” Jack pointed at one of the knives.
Dr. Bellinger pursed his lips as he cleared his throat. Then he adjusted his spectacles and leaned in for a closer look. “What about it?”
Jack pulled out a folded piece of paper—the picture the deputy coroner had printed off for him. He lowered it closer to the knife. “Does this broken-off tip look like it would complete this knife?”
SIXTEEN
Chance stood under a dark canopy that protected him from the rain and watched the bar across the street.
After the cab left him, he’d limped along until he found one of the motels with individual cabins at the edge of the forest. His leg needed rest after that, but his mind needed rest too.
So he waited.
All the pain and hard work it had taken to start over and become a new person had brought him back to this one small county that he’d left behind. Had been forced to leave years ago—what seemed like a lifetime now.
Blevins strolled across the street and entered the bar.
Showtime.
Chance shoved from the wall, yanked his cap a little lower, and crossed the street for his impromptu meeting. Just a couple of guys having a few drinks in the dark corner of a western honky-tonk. No, wait. Not anymore. Now it featured Star Wars stuff. Maybe one of the old Star Wars actors had bought a ranch near town. Chance didn’t know and didn’t care, but he was surprised to see the bar was crowded. And glad too. Nobody would pay them any attention.
Today, he called the number on that strip of paper he’d found, and the guy answered. Didn’t give his name. The instant the man said hello, Chance knew who he was. That face he’d wished for earlier in the day when he’d stood in the building at the small airstrip had finally popped into his head.
Chance had taken up residence under the awning two hours ago, mostly because it had taken him all day to walk back and rest his aching leg. And then he’d had to work up the fortitude to walk into town. No more cabs for him on this side of his nightmare.
Chance was taking a huge risk by showing his face, but on a dark and rainy night, along with the fact he was much older and stockier, and had a scraggly beard, he would wager that no one would recognize him.
Except for an old acquaintance who wasn’t expecting him.
Blevins had been a creature of habit for far too many years. Chance could hardly believe the man was actually sitting in the same booth where he’d sat years before. Like church pews were often claimed by the same parishioners, Blevins had claimed his booth in the bar, and everyone knew not to take it.
Chance slid in across from Blevins and peered at him from under his cap.
“Buddy, you’re taking a big risk. This is my booth. My private booth.” The man’s slurred words told Chance he’d already had plenty of beers before he even showed up to the bar.
Peering at his old connection, Chance said nothing. Would Blevins recognize him? Did he even want him to?
“You don’t know me?”
“No. Now get out.”
“I’m your delivery man. Name’s Chance Carter.”
Blevins’s eyes grew wide, then he ducked his head. “We’re not supposed to meet. What are you doing here?”
“My plane crashed.”
“I know. And we’re not supposed to ever meet.”
“You could have at least come to the hospital and asked me about the package.”
“Why would I do that?”
Not the response Chance had expected. Might as well get to the point. “Are you going to kill me like you killed Jim Raymond?”
Chance reasoned that Jim had been waiting at the airstrip. He’d dropped that slip of paper with his contact—the person he would call when he’d retrieved the package. Had he made the call before or after he retrieved the package? Or had he been intercepted?
“I’m going to get up and walk out of here and find another place to nurse a beer in peace. I didn’t kill anyone. I’m only a go-between. I’m not supposed to know who gives and who takes. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll disappear.”
“I already did. Hank, don’t you remember me?”
Blevins lifted his gaze and peered at Chance long and hard. “I’ve been paid to forget.”
SEVENTEEN
Terra sat in her vehicle on a hidden turnoff with the car’s lights off. She’d called the county dispatch to ask for assistance. She was able to lose her pursuer when she topped a hill and immediately turned off on an old dirt road, then flipped off her lights. As a special agent who was also deputized to conduct investigations and make arrests on behalf of the county, she perhaps should turn the tables and face off with her pursuer, but backup would take too long to arrive. Her vehicle wasn’t equipped with flashing lights and sirens either.
She couldn’t even be certain she was actually being pursued.
No laws had been broken.
She had no idea of the driver’s intentions. Follow her? Harm her?
Why would someone follow me?
Or had she misunderstood the driver’s actions?
Terra calmed her breathing. Just because she wasn’t going to confront the driver didn’t mean she couldn’t find out who was behind the wheel.
A car sped by on the street. It had to be the same car that had trailed her—she hadn’t seen another vehicle on the road between them—and now she would be the one to follow.
She maneuvered the car from its hiding place and onto the two-lane road, her only intention to get a look at the license plate. The vehicle was too far ahead for her to catch up without drawing attention, but it finally slowed. At the bottom of the hill, brake lights signaled the car had stopped, and then it turned left—the direction of Gramps’s ranch.
Her heart pounded.
As she accelerated, she snatched her cell and returned Jack’s call, but got no answer. She left him a voice mail to call her. Terra stopped and then turned left, but the vehicle had disappeared. She’d lost them. She banged the steering wheel.
What kind of special agent was she?
She’d been too scared to face off with her shadow. But a healthy dose of fear and wisdom kept people alive. Terra turned around and drove back the other way, looking for another road or turnoff. After a few minutes, she gave up and headed back toward the ranch. By the time she slowed to take the drive up to the house, she still hadn’t seen another vehicle. She took the drive slowly as it wound between trees and around a foothill, all the while searching the shadows and any turnouts, remaining on alert to possible intruders.
Spotting no vehicles in hiding, she continued to the house and parked near the door. Motion-sensor lights came on.
Terra released a sigh and contacted the county dispatch, informing them there was no need to send a deputy, after all. The county was big, and the deputies were too few and far between.
Gathering her things, she quickly moved to the front door but still got soaked. Then she unlocked and disarmed the place, and then rearmed it. Now she wished she had opted to drive back to her apartment, which was much smaller and easier to guard.
After flipping on the lights, Terra changed out of her wet clothes and went to
the kitchen to retrieve leftovers from the fridge. She was famished.
A knock came at the front door.
Terra’s heart leapt to her throat, then she realized whoever the county had sent had probably decided to still make the drive to see if she was all right. She forced her shaking hands to steady.
Whoever had followed her wasn’t going to knock on the front door. She gathered her composure, along with her weapon, and slipped quietly down the hall toward the door, where she hesitated.
She should look through the peephole. But what if—
“Come on, Terra,” Jack said. “I know you’re here. Please open up.”
Relief swelled inside. Terra turned off the alarm and opened the door. Jack’s outstretched arm held him up against the doorframe, and he was soaking wet.
“Hurry, get in here.” She practically yanked him inside, then armed the security system.
Terra glanced at the floor. “You’re dripping.”
“Sorry. It started raining again as I got out of the truck.”
“And you got out of the truck anyway? I’m impressed.” And so relieved to see you.
“I heard you had some trouble tonight. I was already on my way.”
“You were?” Her cheeks warmed. “Why?” He’d been on his way to see her about the investigation, of course. Why did she even have to ask?
“Well, one, you didn’t answer my earlier calls.”
“I was on my way home, and my cell was out of reach. I did call you back though.”
She headed for the kitchen. He followed, dripping all the way. In the kitchen, she turned to face him. He filled her vision, all strength and determination. Her breath suddenly caught in her throat. Terra ignored her reaction. “Let’s get you out of that jacket. I’ll get you a towel to dry off and a blanket to warm up.”
He snatched her wrist and pulled her back. “Tell me what happened.”
Terra didn’t want to reveal how scared she’d been, and that she felt like such an idiot on top of that. She didn’t want to show any weakness in front of Jack.
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