Embarrassed, he wanted to grab the folder and run with it before either of them looked at his awkward attempts. But he swallowed hard and watched as Lauren opened it and studied the first drawing—a pencil sketch he’d done of the chipmunks that spent the day scampering around just outside his cabin.
“I, uh, that was the first one I kept,” he managed in a strangled voice. “I know it’s rough.”
“Wow. That’s good!” Rylie said, looking over at him with admiration shining in her eyes. Then she turned back to Lauren. “He had an awful accident, and he can’t use his hand very well anymore. So we’re learning together.”
The two girls reverently lifted one page after another, studying each one…and then lingered over the last one. Belatedly, he remembered it was a drawing he’d done of Rylie and Lauren one night when he couldn’t sleep. He felt his face heat up.
“Wow,” Rylie breathed. “I didn’t know you drew us!”
Lauren touched a fingertip to the sketch he’d done of her and stared at it for a long, agonizing moment. He imagined her being angry, or creeped out…or just a little too patronizing.
But when she finally looked up at him, there was a sheen of tears in her eyes. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
She was so upset that she was gonna cry? Alarm raced through him. “I’m sorry. Really, I—”
She shook her head and smiled at him through her tears. “No, no—this just blows me away. No one has ever done something like this for me. Ever. Is there any way…could you let me have it?”
Absurdly pleased, he nodded.
Rylie grinned. “Good. So how about Monopoly?”
Lauren set up the game on a table in the dining room, while Ian made sure all the doors and windows were locked at her request. “Babysitter rules,” she said with a grin.
They’d all made it around the board and passed Go twice when Maggie stirred from her usual place by the fireplace and trotted in to see them, then put her paws up on a low windowsill to peer out.
Maggie growled—something Ian always thought was just too funny, coming from something that looked like a dirty dust mop.
“Your turn, Ian,” Rylie prodded. “Roll the dice!”
The dog growled again, louder this time, and they all turned to look out the window. The sun was low in the sky, sending long shadows across the grass, but nothing was stirring out there.
Dumb dog—probably just heard a squirrel.
He reached for the dice…but then he heard something, too. A single, metallic clank coming from far away.
They all stilled, glancing at each other.
But there was only silence now, but for the lonely hoot of a distant owl.
“Maybe it’s just the wind,” Lauren finally ventured. “Or one of the horses knocking over a pail.”
Ian nodded, relieved at the logical explanation and thankful that he hadn’t reacted with fear. That would have been sooo lame in front of a nine-year-old and a cool girl like Lauren.
Still, he kept listening, and when the girls were focused on the game board, he kept glancing outside.
What if Lauren was wrong?
FIFTEEN
Janna smiled as she looked around the rustic steak house. “I love all the pine,” she murmured, toying with the salad fork at the side of her plate. “And the aromas from that kitchen are out of this world.”
Michael nodded and went back to studying the menu.
Fresh trout. Prime rib. Shrimp scampi. Filet mignon. Familiar fare for an upscale steak house, but surprising at this small one tucked away in Wolf Creek, Wyoming. The plates passing by on the lone waiter’s arm were all beautifully prepared.
But none of it sounded good tonight.
“You don’t look happy, though,” she said quietly. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”
He looked up and found her smiling at him.
“I did change my clothes, honest,” she added with a twinkle in her eye. “And I took a shower.”
“It isn’t you.”
She rolled her eyes. “The old Seinfeld line, right? ‘It isn’t you—it’s me’ as a way to escape a bad date?”
He felt a twinge of guilt. “Any guy in town would be lucky to be here with you.”
“Except you.”
The last thing he’d ever wanted to do was hurt her feelings, yet now it was probably inevitable. “I’m just not good company right now.”
Her expression softened. “I know you’ve had hard times in the past. Losing you wife…dealing with your son. We’re friends, right? No expectations—just two grown-ups, out for a nice meal. Nothing more.”
He’d wanted more this afternoon. More time to get to know her, to see where this relationship could lead. More time to enjoy conversation and her laughter. He’d seen that same interest in her eyes when he’d asked her to dinner.
Then he’d realized that he just wasn’t ready. After ruining so many lives, he probably never would be. “I’m sorry.”
Her hesitation lasted only an instant, and then she rallied. “Hey, I’m just happy to have a few hours away from the lodge. So, what looks good on the menu?”
He scanned the menu again and chose quickly when the waiter approached to take their order.
“See, that wasn’t so hard,” she teased, then leaned forward and lowered her voice. “So, tell me—have you heard anything from the DCI?”
“I called yesterday, but they won’t even start on this case for a good long while. They did tell me that the bones were from a middle-aged male, but that’s about it.”
“Anything else?”
“Knowing the approximate age and sex of the deceased weeded out the only missing persons reports I found for the time frame we’re looking at.”
She shuddered. “What were the others?”
“A couple of women. A child—though that was considered a parental abduction because the noncustodial parent fled to his native Mexico.”
“And the women just disappeared?”
“One was a college girl from Montana who was backpacking alone somewhere in this part of the Rockies. The other was in her early thirties, and in an abusive marriage. Her husband was actually sentenced to life based on circumstantial evidence and a long history of 911 calls by his wife, though her body was never found.”
Their Caesar salads arrived, along with a warm, fragrant miniloaf of pumpernickel on a wooden cutting board.
She lifted a forkful of lettuce, then paused. “What about the coyote that was left in the cabin?”
He eyed her salad. “You’re sure you want to talk about this now?”
She nodded.
“The vet recovered the kind of slug from the carcass that shows the shooter buys ammo for big game, not varmints. And he must’ve been a good distance away when he took aim, or the slug would have gone right through.”
“So he’s a good shot.” She shivered. “Can you tell what kind of rifle it was?”
“Hundreds of models could take that ammo size. For ballistics reports you need the rifle for comparison.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “So we’re still at a dead end.”
“Not entirely—thanks to the rock slide.”
“You can analyze rocks?”
“Cigarettes.” He smiled. “I found one wedged deep between some rocks at the top of the cliff—and it clearly hadn’t been there very long. So I did some checking, and Catabrese Golds aren’t sold anywhere west of the Mississippi, except by mail order or online. Perhaps the buyer can be traced.”
“A lucky break, then…unless it belonged to some hiker.”
“It’s now on the way to the DCI for analysis and should yield saliva DNA and fingerprints. If the person has a record, we could be very close to nailing him.”
Janna’s smile lit up her face. “What a relief that’ll be!”
“In the meantime, I don’t want you or the kids outside after dusk, and you need to be very, very careful. Promise?”
“Of course.”
He hes
itated. “The work on my house in town has been completed faster than anticipated. I need to start spending more time there so I can get the rest of the work done.”
“I understand completely.” Janna looked away. “You can forget about that contract holding you to the entire summer.”
“No, I’ll still be at the cabin at night, just not during the evenings.”
“You really don’t need to—”
“Yes, I do. At least until we find out who has been causing trouble out there.” He put down his fork. “Honestly, I’d feel a lot better if you and your family got a few rooms at the motel in town—at least until this is over. You could run out to the lodge during the day, if need be.”
“My mother would never agree to letting some jerk run us off our property,” she retorted. “And for once, I’m on her side.”
The next morning Janna heard the sound of a pickup rumbling up the hill while she was working in Cabin Nine. She hurried out the front door and waved, then went outside as soon as she finished scrubbing out the kitchen cupboards.
She found Earl standing by the backhoe, arguing into the cell phone at his ear. “That isn’t soon enough,” he barked.
He jerked the phone from his ear, punched in another number and started another terse conversation before noticing that she’d joined him.
Disappointed at what she was hearing, she stared at the gaping hole he’d dug at the beginning of the week.
He muttered something into the phone, then jammed it in the breast pocket of his work shirt. “Out of luck, ma’am. Leastways, for now.”
“It’s really broken? You’re kidding!”
Fuming, he rounded the front of the machine and pointed. “See there, on the backhoe boom? The metal hydraulic line has a crack in it, and the fluid is gone. I think the fuel pump is shot, too.” Earl shoved his ball cap back and scratched his head. “This rig hasn’t given me a lick of trouble all year. It ran like a top on Monday.”
She mentally counted up the remaining weeks of the tourist season and said a silent prayer. “But you can fix it, right?”
“Sure, once I get the parts.” He slapped his cap against his thigh. “But it ain’t easy to get ’em for this old gal. No one in Jackson has what it needs, so I’ll have to order from a shop down in Denver. That takes time.”
“Any idea how long it might take?”
“A week, maybe two. Once it took over a month.”
“A month!”
He shrugged and started for his pickup. “It shouldn’t take that long. I’ll do what I can.”
“One last thing—” she hesitated “—you mentioned that it’s been running fine. It seems strange that two things suddenly went wrong.”
“I take good care of my equipment, if that’s what you’re getting at. Breakdowns happen.”
“You think someone could’ve tampered with it?”
He snorted. “Who would come clear out here, when this rig is usually parked right behind my house? Makes no sense to me.”
His eyes narrowed as he went back to the machine and took a closer look at the fuel pump, then ran a hand along the metal hydraulic line. He paused and bent over for a close look at the underside. “I don’t recollect a dent there. And once I pull that fuel pump, I’m going to take a mighty close look.”
Janna watched him drag his tools out of the back of his pickup and start dismantling the backhoe, then she went back to work in the cabin, her heart heavy.
Just this morning she’d awakened early to work on the Snow Canyon Lodge Web site, adding photos and descriptions of the cabins that were ready, and posting the rates and dates available.
She’d anticipated a small but growing trickle of e-mails in response, because most of the resorts in the area filled up months ahead of the season. Newly available rentals could spur considerable interest—she hoped.
But now, the four farthest cabins would remain out of commission for weeks or even longer by the time the backhoe was repaired, the septic system finished and the inspectors arrived.
She shuddered at the thought of her anemic bank account, and the effect of missing so much of the tourist season. She’d started with a small inheritance from Uncle Gray, and a much smaller amount of money in her savings. What would happen when that ran out? The money was going fast—for repairs and updates, rustic cabin furnishings, kitchenware and linens.
It wasn’t just the worry about someone trying to make her fail. It could be sheer economics that made it happen.
And last night…
She’d wavered between relief, sadness and disbelief at the conversation she and Michael had shared at the steak house, when he’d practically echoed the very things she’d planned to say.
The irony of that awkward conversation had been running through her mind ever since.
He was a wonderful man. She’d come to care for him way too much. But, like him, she knew there was no place in her life for another relationship. After the sad, slow death of a marriage she’d tried so hard to save, the idea of risking another failure was just too overwhelming to contemplate…and there just wasn’t enough joy and hope left in her heart to try.
So why did she still feel such an empty place in her heart after hearing Michael say he felt the same way?
Uneven footsteps, punctuated by the thumps of crutches, came up the steps and across the porch. “Mom!”
“What’s up?” Janna rose slowly, working the stiffness out of her back, and opened the screen door wide. “Oh, Rylie—what have you been into?”
The child’s cast was muddy, as were her clothes and hands. “I—I went for a walk. I wanted to see the big hole before it was gone.” Rylie held out her hand. “There were some old dishes and stuff in that big pile of dirt. And look what I found! You can have it, ’cause it doesn’t fit me.”
Inwardly cringing at the contamination that might be in the soil, Janna gingerly accepted what looked like a small ball of mud, and rubbed at it with a forefinger. “What is it?”
“It’s an old ring, but it doesn’t have diamonds or anything. Maybe it’s part of a secret treasure or something. I’m going back to look—”
“No, you’re not, young lady.” Janna dropped the muddy object on the kitchen table that she’d temporarily set out on the porch. “You could fall in that hole, and you could get hurt again. We’re going right up to the house and get you in the bathtub. Now. Aunt Tessa said she’d come for you and your grandma at two o’clock, and you need to be ready.”
Managing a garbage-sack wrapping of the cast during Rylie’s bath, helping her dress and also trying to scrub the cast itself took the better part of an hour.
By the time Rylie was ready, Claire had been pacing the lodge for twenty minutes, and Tessa had been waiting for ten.
“Sorry,” Janna said as she ushered her daughter into the lobby. “Rylie did some unexpected exploring, and she had to get cleaned up.”
Claire, apparently in a good mood because she was going back to the ranch overnight, eyed her granddaughter with interest. “So, what did you find?”
“Cool stuff,” Rylie exclaimed. “Up in the big dirt pile. Some old spoons and dishes and even—”
“Please.” Tessa raised a brow at Janna. “Not where they’re digging up the old septic lines. Tell me you didn’t let her play there.”
Janna silently counted to ten. “She went up there on her own, I’m afraid. Her first solo excursion out of the lodge since she got her cast on.”
“Leastways she shows a little spunk,” Claire sniffed.
Rylie looked up at her grandmother in surprise, clearly warming to the rare compliment.
With an expression of distaste, Tessa glanced out the window toward the only cabins visible from the lodge. “I suppose you were busy with one of those awful cabins at the time. Beats me why anyone would want to stay clear out here.”
“You’d be surprised. I checked my e-mail a few minutes ago and found three reservations for next month.”
“Three!” Claire appe
ared taken aback. “But where on earth will you put them all?”
“We’ll have plenty of room by then,” Janna assured her. “Michael and Ian have been helping with some repairs, and I’ve been making good progress, too.”
“Can we go?” Rylie vibrated with excitement as she looked between the adults. “I’m all ready—pajamas and everything!”
They all trooped out to Tessa’s crew-cab pickup, where Janna put Rylie’s overnight bag in the back, gave her a big hug and then helped her into the back seat. “I’ll miss you, sweetie,” Janna murmured. “Be a good girl for Aunt Tessa, okay? No exploring?”
“Promise.” Rylie looked down at Janna’s hand. “You didn’t like my present?”
“Present?”
Rylie raised her hurt gaze to meet Janna’s. “The ring.”
“Oh, my—of course I did. I’ll get it right now and clean it up. Then maybe we can share it, okay?”
Janna waved as the truck disappeared down the lane.
Michael was at work. Ian was somewhere on the property—probably with his nose in a book. Lauren was cleaning in one of the cabins. Still, with Rylie and Claire gone, the place suddenly seemed terribly quiet.
Tonight would be even worse, staying alone in the cavernous lodge without Rylie’s chatter and Claire’s acerbic comments to fill the silence.
Not that there weren’t a thousand things to fill her time. But before anything else, she needed to retrieve that trinket from Cabin Nine, or Rylie would be even more disappointed.
She jogged up the hill and met Lauren and Ian who were coming down, side by side. She hid a smile at their budding friendship. “What’s up?”
“Ian’s dad wants him to choose the colors for his room at the house in town before the hardware store closes. Is it all right if I take him? I’m nearly done for today, anyhow.”
“Not a problem. Afterward, maybe you can even have some fun—go inner tubing on one of the creeks, or go to Tessa’s and sign up for a trail ride. Just be sure to let Ian’s dad know.”
Hard Evidence Page 14