by Julie Miller
“I came to work.”
Sue waved off that explanation. “Work, schmerk. It’s not right for you to be alone so much. You’re never going to get yourself a man staying so far outside of town all by yourself and dressing to hide every pretty thing there is about you. You always look so sad, dear. I remember how bright and funny you are. I know Jim and Myrna would want you to at least make friends your own age.” The older woman punctuated the grandmotherly lecture with a sigh and threw her arms around Ava in a tight hug. “They’d be worried about you, too.”
She patted the other woman’s back. “I’m fine, Sue.”
One. Two. The hug wasn’t ending. She needed to be able to move.
“I think that cute Sheriff Stout has his eye on you.”
Ava felt the panic welling up inside her, constricting her throat, blanking out her thoughts. “I need you to let go...”
Ava didn’t know if it was the soft woof of Maxie going on alert, trotting over to Ava’s side, or something else going on in the store behind her. But Sue abruptly released her and circled around Ava. Ava turned, as well, to see that the man in the bulky suit jacket had moved over to a couple standing at the rack of souvenir T-shirts. He was chatting them up with an amiable smile and showing them something on his phone screen. When they shook their heads, he moved on to another couple.
“What is that man up to?” Sue traced her finger around her lips, as though making sure her lipstick was still in place. Even through the haze of Ava’s mini-episode, she recognized the signs of putting on armor and gearing up for an attack. Not that the septuagenarian was going to physically take on a man twice her size. But this store was her territory, and Sue wasn’t afraid to speak her mind to anyone. Thankfully, the sorry state of Ava’s social life had been forgotten. “If he starts chasing away my customers...” Sue squeezed Ava’s arm. “Will you excuse me, dear?”
With the reprieve, Ava could genuinely smile. “You go ahead.”
Ava set the jeans and shirts she wanted with the rest of the items already in her pile on the counter. All that was left on Larkin’s list was a package of boxer-briefs, which Ava was more than happy to pick out herself, so that Sue wouldn’t give her a sales pitch about lacy bras and silk panties, or feed the rumor mill about some of the more unusual items she was buying. She flagged Monica down, and the teen met her at the counter to check her out.
She was helping the teenager pack her items into two reusable bags when Ava heard a gravelly voice from behind her. “I heard you met a mystery man yesterday.”
Ava jumped inside her skin and reached for the reassurance of contact with the dog.
At least the older man with the receding hairline and wire-rimmed glasses had been considerate enough not to touch her. His hands were raised in apology as he moved around to stand beside her. “Oh, dear. I’m sorry, Miss Wallace. I forget how sensitive you are. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Last night Larkin had called her fragile, and now she was sensitive? Add in Sue’s mothering and she really needed to work on her reputation around Pole Axe instead of living down to everyone’s expectations of her. Willow Storm would be insulted. And frankly, Ava was getting tired of it. Last night’s conversation with Larkin had been cathartic. Mentally, she was ready to change, but regrowing her confidence and her faith in the world wasn’t going to happen overnight.
But it was going to happen.
Ava fixed a smile on her face for the widower who ran the local newspaper. “It’s all right, Mr. Middleton. I’m working on trying to be more comfortable around other people. Coming to town on a busy Saturday is good practice for me.” This is miserable practice for me, but what else can I say? I’m jumpy about hiding a man at my cabin? I was assaulted by a man who’s never been caught, and I think anyone who sneaks up behind me could be that guy? Better stick to the excuses she’d rehearsed and divert attention from her by saying something “normal.” “How are your grandkids?”
The older gentleman smiled as she hit on a favorite topic. “Ginny just got engaged. She’s asked me to walk her down the aisle.”
“Congratulations. You’ll look smashing in a tuxedo.”
“Thanks.” He leaned in a tad and winked. “Her brothers aren’t too thrilled about putting on suits and ties, but they’re excited about the wedding, too. It’ll be back East where they all live. A year from October. It’s going to be quite a production.”
Ava took the receipt from Monica and tucked it into her purse. “Do you miss living back in DC?”
“Not really.” He slipped his hands into the pockets of his khakis and shrugged. “My blood pressure needed the slower pace of life out here. After losing my son and wife, I was ready for a fresh start. Though I do miss tracking down the leads on an interesting story.”
And now they’d come full circle to the reason the editor and chief reporter for the County Gazetteer had struck up a conversation with her in the first place. Sly. “And you think a mystery man is an interesting story?”
“You tell me.”
Even living on the fringes of town, Ava had heard the story about James Middleton’s son, a Navy ensign who’d been killed in a training accident. His wife had died soon after from a prophetic blood clot to her broken heart. Ava understood better than most about how a lifestyle change and relocation could help one recover from an emotional upheaval. But once a newshound, always a newshound, she supposed. After retiring from a career at a metropolitan newspaper covering political intrigue, Congressional committees and Supreme Court rulings, the occasional events to drive tourism and agricultural news here must seem pretty tame. Especially with a paper that only came out once a week. Still, Ava wasn’t about to indulge his curiosity.
“There’s not much to tell. He stumbled out of the woods, fainted on my front porch. I drove him to the hospital and left as soon as Sheriff Stout took my statement.”
“You have no idea what his name is? Where he works?”
Ava looped her purse back around her neck and shoulder. “Sorry.”
“My sources say he left the hospital without checking out.”
“You have sources in Pole Axe?”
He chuckled. “The town gossips. You know how they love to talk. I’ve heard everything from this guy being shot in the head to being attacked by a mountain lion. While I imagine the truth lies somewhere in the middle, it sounds to me like he needs to be under a doctor’s care. Makes me curious about why the man would wander off from the hospital. What if he’s a danger to himself? Collapses again, and no one’s around to help? What if he’s a danger to someone else?”
Ava got a whiff of a woodsy cologne and cigarette smoke a split second before she heard the man’s voice behind her. “You’re not talking about this man, are you?”
The advanced warning kept her from gasping out loud. Ava turned to see the big man in the gray suit holding out his cell phone. Thankfully, her eyes were downturned when she saw the image on the screen, or he might have seen a flash of recognition there.
Sue had linked her arm through his to escort him to the counter, steering him away from a group of tourists who’d descended upon the section of Wyoming souvenirs. “This is the woman I was telling you about, Roy.” Roy? Sue sure could make friends quickly when she put her mind to it. “Our local heroine, Ava Wallace.”
The dark-haired man stuck out a meaty hand. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Wallace. I’m Roy Hauser. Security chief for Bell Design Systems. I’ve been looking for this man.”
She barely touched his fingers as they shook hands. “Who is he?”
“He used to work for BDS. Luke’s gone missing.”
Luke? Bell Design Systems? Larkin’s key chain had an L.B. carved in it. Luke Bell? Great. Had the heir to a tech fortune stumbled into her life yesterday? No wonder this man was looking for him.
The older man beside her introduced himself, as well. “I’m James Middl
eton. I run the local paper.” The two men shook hands. “BDS. Isn’t that a high-tech company? You have contracts with the military?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, sir.” He showed them both the picture on his phone again. “You’re sure this isn’t the man you met?”
The man in the picture staring back at her was fresh out of the military. He was clean-shaven, and she could see his scalp through the close shave of his hair. But even wide open instead of narrowed in scrutiny, the eyes were unmistakable—silvery-green and piercing in their intensity.
A quiver of excitement stirred in Ava’s belly. This man knew Larkin. But she had to respect Larkin’s request that no one know he was hiding at her place. As long as he kept her A. L. Baines persona a secret, she would do the same for him. She wondered if anyone gave out acting awards for playing dumb. If people believed she was sensitive and fragile, maybe they’d believe she was clueless, too. This would be good practice before she called Kent Russell back.
“I don’t know.” She combed her fingers into her ponytail and made a show of twirling it between her fingers. “The man I saw had a beard and longer hair than that. Plus, he was beat-up from his injuries—bruises and swelling. His face wasn’t shaped like that.” She studied the image on Roy Hauser’s phone, hoping to get a glimpse of any sort of identifying information. But in the split second before he swiped it away, she saw no name with the picture, only a code of numbers and symbols across the bottom of the image. Ava glanced up into Mr. Hauser’s brown eyes, the way any normal woman would. “From that picture, it’s hard to tell.”
“Your sacks are full of men’s clothes,” he observed, perhaps not buying into her helpless, eccentric persona the way the folks of Pole Axe did. He peeked into the tops of Ava’s bags. “You know it’s a crime to aid and abet a fugitive.”
Ava’s head shot up. “Is he a fugitive?”
He grinned. “Well, right now he’s just a missing person.” He pulled the green chambray shirt from the top of one bag. “The men’s clothes?”
Okay. So, she hadn’t played dumb enough if this man was suspicious of her guileless responses. Allowing the irritation she was feeling to rise to the surface, she snatched the shirt from his fingers and stuffed it back into the bag before flicking her collar and patting the baggy fit of her jeans, indicating the clothes were for her.
“Ah. I forget that women are as rugged as the men in this part of the country. Sorry to have bothered you.” As he pulled back the front of his jacket to tuck his phone inside, she confirmed that not only was he wearing a protective vest, but there was a gun holstered at his waist.
This man was no fool. And even if he was, he wasn’t anyone Ava wanted to mess with. Maybe the gun and vest were standard issue for a security chief at a tech company. But was this the man who had tried to kill Larkin? Or was he a friend who was trying to save him before the would-be killer found him?
Before Ava had to make an excuse to escape any more questions, the other man dashed back into the store. “Roy. I’ve got the doc in his office at the clinic. He’s free to talk for a few minutes.”
“Thanks.” Roy started after his coworker, then paused and reached inside his jacket before turning back. She was relieved to see that he’d pulled out nothing more dangerous than his wallet. He handed her his business card. “In case you run into that man you rescued again. Or think of anything that might help us.” She took the card and tucked it into the pocket of her jeans. Roy handed one to James and Sue, too. “If any of you see him, give me a call.” Then he hurried to lead the other man out the door. “Let’s go.”
Sue helped Ava gather her shopping bags. “What can I do for you today, James?”
The balding man smiled. “You free for lunch?”
Sue winked. “For you, sweetie, I am.”
Not one to be caught in the middle of anyone else’s budding romance, Ava made a beeline for the door. “That’s my cue to leave, too. Thanks!”
“Don’t be such a stranger,” Sue called after her.
The door was swinging shut behind her as she saw the two men in the black SUV pull out and drive the whole block to turn into the clinic’s parking lot. The black SUV wasn’t unlike the one Larkin had instinctively recoiled from as it drove past yesterday. Had Roy Hauser and his armed sidekick been searching for Larkin then? What was Larkin’s connection to BDS? Were they friends or foes? Or had it simply been a coincidence—a sense of being hunted that had made him duck and hide in her truck yesterday?
And if it was just a coincidence, why did Ava get the sense that someone was now watching her, too?
Although the two security men were headed in the opposite direction from her cabin, she decided it would be smarter not to go straight home. Let them settle in with Kent Russell and that interview before they or anyone else decided to follow her.
After locking her bags inside the truck, Ava tugged on Maxie’s leash and crossed the street to Kris DeKamp’s Koffee Shop. The moment she pushed open the door, she heard a friendly greeting from the dark-haired woman behind the counter. “Hey, there, stranger. And it isn’t even a Monday.”
Ava held up the end of Maxie’s leash before coming inside. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all. Maxie’s always welcome here. I’ve even got a treat for her.” As Maxie trotted up and propped her big paws on the counter, Kris tossed her a crunchy treat. Maybe it was just as well that Ava didn’t come into town often. Maxie might become a big tub of lard with all this spoilage. Once the dog was chomping on her treat, Kris wiped off the counter and smiled. “What can I get you?”
Ava read the chalkboard behind the counter for the day’s selections, and chose a frothy, chocolate-flavored concoction. She almost ordered a second coffee for Larkin. But if she’d had a close call explaining her sacks full of men’s clothes and toiletries, then she’d have an even harder time explaining two drinks for one homebody. Instead, she chose a bag of coffee beans to brew at home. If Larkin felt cheated out of a mocha latte, he’d have to be satisfied with this.
“Digging in for the weekend to work on that dissertation, I can tell. I don’t blame you stocking up on caffeine. This is my own roast. I’ve added a touch of vanilla and hazelnut, cooler flavors for the summer.”
Ava inhaled the heavenly brew before taking a sip. “It’s delicious. Thanks, Kris.”
While Kris rang up her purchase, the coffee shop owner nodded to the Hole in the Wall across the street. “What is Roy Hauser doing here? I figured we were beneath him and his big-money, high-tech ways here in Pole Axe.”
Ava nearly dropped her coffee. But she managed to hang on to the insulated cup and casually say, “I just met him at Sue’s place. Do you know him?”
The other woman nodded. “I’ve catered a couple of luncheons up at the lodge BDS uses when they have imported guests.”
“Imported?”
“They do a lot of business with foreign investors. When they come to the US, they like to show their guests the all-American sights like Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon. They use the Ridgerunner Lodge up on top of the mountain. Great views. Luxury rooms. Plenty of privacy, yet easy access to the Jackson Airport and parks.” She handed Ava her receipt. “Roy and his people do security checks on anyone they hire to work with their executive staff and investors.”
“And Roy checked you out?”
Kris pushed her glasses up on her nose and rolled her eyes. “In more ways than one. He asked me out to dinner. Picked me up and flew me in the BDS jet to Cheyenne.”
“Wow.”
“Well, it would have been wow if the company had been more interesting. He’s attractive enough in that manly man kind of way. But I’d have paid my own way just to get a real conversation out of him.”
Ava’s opinion of the security chief was leaning toward suspicion again. I’m not at liberty to say had been his response to Mr. Middleton’s question about Larkin’
s picture and working with the military. “Did you think he was lying to you about something?”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t tell you what.” Kris handed Ava the bag of coffee beans. “I know Bell Design Systems works with some government stuff, so he can’t say much about his work. But I’d have been happy with a story about growing up on the mean streets of the city, fighting to make something of himself until he enlisted in the Army and finally found a family in his comrades in arms.”
And Ava thought she was the one who made up stories. “Is he a soldier?”
“Roy talked more about the money and perks he got with BDS, and how he worked closely with Gregory Bell, the company’s founder and CEO. Like that was supposed to impress me.” She eyed the door, as if the burly security chief was headed this way. “He seems like he could be military, doesn’t he?”
“I didn’t talk to him long enough to know.” Ava had automatically turned when Kris’s focus had shifted. Fortunately, there was no sign of Hauser, his sidekick or the black SUV. She hid her sigh of relief behind another sip of the decadent coffee. “It’s good to chat with you, Kris. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Good to see you, too. Feel free to stop in more often.”
Ava held her cup up in a friendly salute, then headed back to her truck. She set her coffee in the cup holder and loaded Maxie onto the bench seat. She had completed her mission to buy supplies for Larkin and had engaged in more conversation than she had since moving to Wyoming. Was she getting clues to piece together Larkin’s forgotten life? Or was she merely taking in a lot of useless facts that might mean nothing?
She was climbing in behind the wheel when she noticed the flyer tucked beneath her windshield wiper. “What now?”
She stood on the running board to pull the colorful advertisement free and noticed similar pieces of paper had been put on the windshield of every vehicle parked in the downtown area.
“Come to the cookout.” A group of local ranchers made some good money every summer taking tourists on a ride in a mock wagon train, culminating in a fireside cookout for dinner. The wagon train had been a staple every summer she could remember. She’d even ridden in a Conestoga wagon and gone to the cookout with her grandparents once herself.
