“Call me Harper, please.” Should she invite the detective in? Nah. “I hope you’ve discovered some evidence of the crime.”
“Not yet. I’ve arranged for you to meet with a forensic artist. She’s one of our deputies at the county office. I would have called, but I don’t have your number.”
The detective probably hoped she would be invited in. She wanted to see inside the camper because she remained skeptical of Harper. “As it turns out, I don’t have a phone right now.” She needed to get a new one next time she went to town. It was funny that Heath had gotten her a camera, but she still didn’t have a cell.
“Right. We have your phone, actually. It’s not in working condition, so you’d probably need to get a new one anyway while we hold on to it in case we need it for evidence. As for today, if you can come in with me, the artist will have time to work with you this afternoon.”
Moffett’s words surprised Harper. She had doubted the investigators would follow through with her request. “Sure. I need to change into something besides sweats. Has anyone reported a missing mother or sister or friend?”
“No.”
“Okay. Give me a few minutes to change.”
Moffett nodded. “I’ll wait in my vehicle.”
Harper shut the door and headed to her closet, closing the bedroom door behind her. This could be the break they needed.
“Harper?” Emily banged the RV door shut. “There’s a deputy outside. What’s she doing there?”
The pocket door to the bedroom slid open.
“I’ll be meeting with a forensic artist today. Detective Moffett came to pick me up.” Harper searched the small closet for something decent to wear. If only she could grab a quick shower too, but that would take too long with the deputy waiting. She wished, too, that she’d cleaned up before Heath had surprised her.
Emily sank to the bed. “That’s good. Yeah, I guess that’s good. I had kind of hoped we could go home tomorrow. Maybe after you meet with the artist we can finish getting ready.”
She hadn’t told Emily that going back to Missouri wasn’t an option yet, at least for Harper.
“Look, Em . . .”
“I hate it when you call me that. You only call me that when you know I won’t like what you’re going to say.”
“That’s not true. I call you that for other reasons too. I call you that as a term of endearment. Because I love you. That’s beside the point. I have to stay. I’m not going anywhere until I know this murder is solved.”
“What?”
“I know you’re disappointed. But you’re a writer. Seems to me you’d want to see this investigation through too. But if you really want to go home, I think you should go, and I’ll stay. I don’t want to be the one to keep you here. You’ve been the best sister to come with me on this trip.”
“Yeah, see how well that turned out. I bailed on you when I should have been with you.”
“You had a deadline. I understood. I’m the one who made the mistake—hiking that trail alone.” Business-casual slacks and shirt in hand, she sat next to her sister. “I think now it’s time I cope with my issues on my own.” Though she had been advised repeatedly to seek support from family and friends.
But enough was enough. She’d spent a year avoiding everything that reminded her of violent crime. Supposedly that would help her gain control over the flashbacks and nightmares. Push away the guilt that consumed her and impeded her ability to function as a normal person. She sighed.
“By sticking around here? Why?”
“Come on, I think you know why. Dad’s killer wasn’t caught. I think it’s time I stop running from the bad that happens in this world—the bad that happened to me—and face what’s happening now head-on. But more importantly, I need to stick around to make sure justice is served for that woman who was killed out there. The way things are going, I’m not sure the sheriff is going to see this through. He’s skeptical of me, for one thing. And that doesn’t sit well with me.” Harper shrugged. “More than that, I can’t be that woman anymore. I can’t be the person who lives and does nothing when someone else dies.”
“You’ve always felt guilty for living, which is ridiculous!”
“Is it?” How did she bring this up without dredging up the pain? How much Emily’s words still hurt her was sobering. “Maybe it’s not about that anymore. You once told me that if I had been brave and looked to see who had shot Dad, that the man would have been caught.” Harper pursed her lips, feeling the wound open up and pain surge in her throat. She didn’t want to drive a wedge between her and Emily after they’d come so far. “So I would think you, of all people, would understand my need to stay until it’s over.”
Emily said nothing. Seconds ticked by. “I . . . I never should have said that. It was stupid and I’m sorry. We were kids. I was hurt over Dad. But hearing you say all this, I understand. It tells me that you’re better now. That taking the time off was good for you. But, Harper, even if you’re better, even though you feel like this time you can make it right by sticking around, you don’t have to stay. The sheriff isn’t asking you to do this. Once he has the picture of the woman, he’ll probably tell you to go home. Besides, where are you going to live? How will you live?”
“Wow, really? I could live here in this, your vintage camper”—she offered Emily a pleading smile—“at least for a while. I have a few funds left, and if I run out I can get a job.”
“Doing what?”
“What I do best. Taking pictures. I noticed Detective Moffett, the investigator, took a few, but I wasn’t impressed. I could do better.” And with those words, Harper realized that finally, she actually missed her job as a crime scene photographer. That she was eager to get back into it if the opportunity arose.
Emily scoffed. “You really think a sheriff who believes you’re lying about a crime, either that or you’ve lost your mind, is going to hire you as his crime scene photographer?”
Harper refused to let Emily’s words hurt. She hadn’t meant them like that. “I have to try. Take the truck and head home, if you want.”
“I don’t go with you one day and look at the trouble that happens. No. I can’t leave you alone again, especially not here in this campground surrounded by strangers coming and going. Ken is nice, but he’s only one person and he isn’t here all the time.”
“Who?”
“Ken. Mr. Stein. The guy at the campground office. Fixed the lock on the door? Hello?”
“Fine.” Harper brushed her hair, then pulled it into a ponytail. “Stay if you want, but I’m not making you.”
“One month.”
“Four.” She hoped it wouldn’t take that long, but crimes weren’t solved as quickly as they were on TV. If it went longer, she’d renegotiate.
“Two.”
“Three.”
“Two and a half.”
“Three months, Emily.”
“And if the killer isn’t caught by then?”
“We’ll figure it out.” Harper slid across the bed and hugged her sister. “It’s going to be all right.”
It felt good to reassure Emily for once. She’d been lost in her own morbid memories for so long. When was the last time she had comforted anyone?
“Can I make one more request?” her sister asked. “Can we move the camper into town? I saw they had some campgrounds there. I’d like to be closer to civilization.”
Harper laughed. “I think that’s a great idea. While I’m gone, why don’t you try to find a place and make a reservation, though you know that might be kind of hard this time of year.”
A knock came at the door again. Detective Moffett was growing impatient. “Would you mind telling the detective I’ll drive myself in? There’s no reason for her to wait.”
Emily nodded and disappeared. Harper quickly dressed as she listened to Emily giving the detective the news. Then Emily stepped back into the room.
“There could be cancellations at one of the campgrounds,” Emily said. “Or yo
u could see if the sheriff’s department could help you. I mean, you witnessed a murder, remember?”
Now Harper understood Emily’s true reasons for wanting to move closer to town. Emily wrote murder mysteries and had murder on her mind a lot. She was afraid for both their lives. Maybe Harper was wrong to stay and see this through if Emily insisted on staying with her. She’d lost Dad. Mom had died from a heart attack three years ago.
I can’t lose Emily too . . .
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
WEDNESDAY, 2:46 P.M.
EMERALD M GUEST RANCH
“You’re spending an awful lot of time brushing down that horse.”
Evelyn.
Heath looked up but continued to brush. “You don’t usually come out to the barn.”
“I don’t usually have a reason, but you weren’t answering your cell. Text or otherwise.”
He stopped brushing and stood tall. “Something wrong? I thought the next group of guests were enjoying themselves.”
“They are. At least Leroy told me. But he said you were MIA. That stands for missing in action.”
Heath chuckled. “I know what it means.”
“I don’t think you know what he means. Usually you introduce yourself to the guests when they arrive.”
He put away the brush. “You didn’t hike all the way down here to tell me that.”
“Maybe not, but it’s a good excuse.”
“Come on. I’ll walk you back to the house.” He led Boots out of the barn and freed him to graze the small enclosed pasture.
Evelyn followed.
Heath had a feeling he was about to get a lecture. “So what’s on your mind?”
“I came to ask you how the girl is. Leroy told me what happened yesterday. That you had to go look at a crime scene. Everything all right?”
“As far as I know, the girl’s fine. Her name is Harper, by the way.”
“Oh, so you’re on a first-name basis already.”
“We went through a lot together in a few hours.” How much should he tell Evelyn? If he told her everything, she might get the wrong idea. But there was no point in trying to hide the truth from her. She would find out eventually and make even more of the fact that he hadn’t told her up front. “We were friends in grade school.”
“Ooh. So it’s like that.” Evelyn walked by his side as they hiked toward the house.
“Not like that. No. We were best friends. We both struggled with family issues and leaned on each other. Trusted each other. There was never anything more than that.” Sure, Heath had thought Harper was pretty and dreamed that one day she might be his girlfriend, but most of the time he had too much else going on to think those dreams would ever come true. She’d been his lifeline and at that time in his life that was all that mattered.
Together they clomped up the steps to the porch.
“Are you going to see her again?”
What was with the questions? “I doubt it. She probably isn’t staying since she is a tourist passing through. The sheriff’s department and the forest rangers are handling the investigation.” Or not. There wasn’t any evidence and no leads they could follow.
But he had gone to see her today. Bought her a camera. And not only a camera but accessories to go with it. He rubbed a hand down his face. What had he been thinking?
“You’re part of the sheriff’s department.”
“Only on the rare occasion that I’m needed and for a few obligatory volunteer hours a month.” Sheriff Taggart hadn’t contacted him about working like he said he would. Maybe he was so busy, he didn’t have time to make the call. All the more reason he needed Heath. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much.
“I’m worried about you, Heath. I think of you like a grandson. I appreciate you giving Leroy a job. We’re like family.”
Hadn’t he been thinking the same thing? He took her hand and patted it. “No need to worry about me. I’ve got everything to be grateful for.” A guest ranch with a beautiful view. Great employees who cared.
She pointed her finger at him. “But you’re still missing something. I can see it in your eyes. You know what you’re missing.”
He shook his head. He had no intention of getting into this with her. She could never understand. He shoved his hand into his pocket and yanked out his truck keys. “I need to get going.”
“I care about you, Heath. I don’t like to overstep, but you need someone who has the right to overstep.”
“Looks like you’re doing a fine job of that.” He grinned.
She gave him a friendly smack on the arm. “You know what I mean. Someone who is your real family. Someone to love you and for you to love back. Your brother found someone. You see how happy he is now. That could be you too. What about Lori Somerall? She runs a guest ranch too. I’ve seen her coming around now and then. I see the way she looks at you. She’s a beautiful woman. Smart and strong too. More importantly, she loves God. Why don’t you ask her out?”
Evelyn the matchmaker, he did not need.
“Tell me something, will you?” He furrowed his brow and stared off at the ducks landing on the lake. “What in the world brought this on? Why are you hammering on me to find someone now?”
“You haven’t been the same since Austin was here with Willow.”
“If you recall, I was shot and left for dead.” Admittedly, he hadn’t been the same since then. The familiar ache in his side erupted. Yep. The doctor was right. It was all in his head.
“That would be enough, I agree, but it’s more than that. You need someone. You’re special, Heath. Look at it this way. A beautiful woman out there is missing the chance to be loved by you. Please don’t deprive her of that.”
He choked at her words. “You’ve got it all wrong. Got me all wrong. Every time I try to fix something, things go from bad to worse.” All the more reason to stay away from Harper.
“That’s not true. Look what you’ve done with this ranch.”
“I’m talking people. I’m not who you think. People I’ve tried to help have died. Or gotten hurt. I . . . I’m not the guy you’re describing.”
“Heath McKade. Don’t say that about yourself. You’re a hero. The only real hero I know in person.”
He moved to make his escape. He couldn’t bear to hear this from her. Not now.
She grabbed his arm and held him in place. “Now you listen to me.” Evelyn stuck her finger in his face. “God looks at the intent of the heart. Not the outcome. You think that when those firefighters and police officers went into the World Trade Center and it came crumbling down, that they aren’t considered heroes? Of course they are! It’s not the outcome, Heath. It’s the fact that they tried. It’s that you try. It’s your heart that matters.”
Tell that to my dead mother. But he couldn’t say the words. Because . . . he desperately wanted to believe Evelyn’s.
“All that to say, you need to let the good Lord give you someone special, to have and to hold. To love and, yes, protect. Will you do that, Heath?”
An explosive boom resounded, rattling the windows of the house. He feared they would break, so he grabbed Evelyn to steady her and shield her. They exchanged a look of horror.
“What on earth?” she asked.
“Stay here.” Heath jumped from the porch, then ran around the house to the woods. Flames rose from a structure that used to be a guest cabin.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
WEDNESDAY, 3:02 P.M.
GRAYBACK, WYOMING
In the parking lot across the street from the county sheriff’s office, the judge sat in his vehicle with the window down, even though the temperature was in the high eighties. These days, he got chilled too easily.
He glanced at his watch and frowned.
The photographer had once again interrupted his plans.
He’d spotted her entering the county sheriff’s building—up to no good, she was. But not for much longer. His chuckle morphed into a hacking cough.
He would have to speed up his
timeline again because of her. He was glad he’d stopped the chemo. He’d been sicker with the treatments than he’d ever been on his own, and his body would lose to the tumors either way. Why had the cancer suddenly decided to spread?
The disease made it hard to keep his edge. He needed to stay strong for what was to come.
He was off the hook unless that woman met with a sketch artist. She might not have her camera, but anyone with an eye like hers would remember the details. She would remember the woman.
The question was—had she seen him behind his cap and rifle? The photographs she’d taken said she hadn’t gotten a good look at him. Still, how long had she been watching him?
All this peripheral business messed with his plans. He didn’t have time to waste on this, yet he couldn’t afford to ignore it. The verdict? He’d have to take out the one witness to this crime.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WEDNESDAY, 3:11 P.M.
BRIDGER COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE
Harper found herself relaxing in Laura Kemp’s presence. The forensic artist was easygoing and made her feel comfortable—an important aspect of the artist’s job. Detective Moffett had assured Harper that Laura had a real knack for creating composite drawings and was excited to have a reason to use her skills. The young woman had made Harper feel at ease during the interview process while she undoubtedly looked for signs of deception.
Though Harper knew what she’d seen and was able to describe the victim in detail, which made Laura’s job easier, she worried she would come off as edgy. That was never a good thing. Harper shouldn’t feel nervous, but if she blew this, Sheriff Taggart wouldn’t take her seriously. This was her chance to prove what she’d seen.
If Harper failed, the murdered woman’s case might not get solved.
On the wall behind Laura, a large map of the Jackson Hole area gave her something to look at. She took a deep breath and focused on the map. Describing the woman had brought back the horror and fear. “Her eyes. I can’t forget the terror in them.”
“I know it was a traumatizing experience. I’ll have you out of here soon. You’ve been great to work with, by the way.” Laura focused on the image she created.
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