A Flurry of Lies

by A. Gardner

  “Oh, I know he didn’t,” Flossie agreed. “But we weren’t meant to see things like that. Death has the power to tear our souls apart. That’s why I plan on getting to the bottom of it. This town needs closure and I’m going to get it for them.”

  She spoke with confidence, and I didn’t doubt that she believed the things she’d just said. The question was, did she know something about Dalton’s death that I’d missed? Something I’d overlooked? Something that could help me clear Wade’s name and prevent my little sister from losing her mind with grief when her husband went to jail for murder?

  “That might be difficult unless you plan on breaking into the sheriff’s office and reading all of the case files,” I replied.

  “Oh, sweetie, of course not. I’m going to speak to Dalton’s ghost.”

  Chapter 13

  “Was she wearing fishnets?” Wade leaned against a shelf of guidebooks and miniature flashlights with the words Bison Creek stamped on them. “Do you remember when she wore those at that thing? Wait, when was it?”

  “You seem fine and well rested,” I commented. “Remind me why I’m helping you again?”

  “Because you love me,” Wade stated.

  “Wrong sister.”

  Miso sniffed the floor and pulled his leash toward a display case filled with rock candy.

  “Well, I appreciate the fact that you walked calmly into my office without calling me a nimrod or threatening to drag my butt up the mountain and . . . what was it you said last time you were here?”

  “Feed you to the bears?” I raised my eyebrows. “And this isn’t your office. It’s a gift shop.”

  I glanced around the shop, impressed that it wasn’t as dusty as I’d remembered. There were shelves and shelves of DVDs, books, and photographs of the silver mines that overlooked the town. They’d been sights worth gawking at back in their glory days. Some of the locals still spoke as if those glory days hadn’t ended. But the mines weren’t operational anymore, and a new owner had snatched up the land before I was even born and had turned it into a sightseeing pit stop.

  “We’re allowed to make personal calls in the break room.” Wade’s co-worker Eddy sat up, and Miso barked. He’d been lying in a cot in the corner—part of a jail cell display that housed an old John Wayne mannequin. In my opinion, it was the most exciting part of the gift shop.

  “No one asked you, Eddy. And get out of there.” Wade grabbed the back of his own neck. His hair was down and sat just above his shoulders. At least he’d bothered to brush it. Eddy’s hair looked like a bird’s nest.

  “Will you hand me a get out of jail free card?” Eddy chuckled to himself. “Just kidding. I’m pretty sure those don’t exist.” He was larger than Wade and much slower. He moved like a herd of grazing cattle back to the register.

  “You know what Emmett will do next time he finds you in there,” Wade commented.

  “He won’t fire me.” Eddy reached into his pocket and pulled out a half-eaten candy bar. “Customers love me. They laugh at all my jokes.”

  Wade pressed his hand to his chest. “No, they love my jokes. You can’t even remember to wear your hard hat. That’s why you’re not allowed to do the tours anymore.”

  “I thought it was because of that girl I left behind.”

  “That too.” Wade rolled up the sleeves of his plaid button-down. “You’re not supposed to turn the lights off until everyone is out of the main tunnel. That girl had to go to therapy because of you.”

  “Hey, if you’re that claustrophobic, you have no business going on mine tours.” Eddy shrugged and scarfed the last of his candy bar. A tiny smudge of chocolate remained on his lower lip.

  “Dude, you really need to look in a mirror.”

  Eddy scowled and ran his fingers through his messy hair. He tossed his trash on the counter and retreated to the break room. Wade scanned the front windows, watching as a few cars passed the front entrance and headed on toward the shops on Canyon Street.

  “Okay, lay it on me.” Wade cleared his throat. “Come on. I can take it. Is the sheriff going to arrest me? I’m walking around on pins and needles here.”

  I shook my head. “Maybe. Wade, there aren’t any other suspects that I know of. Dalton wasn’t from around here, and he didn’t seem to have any enemies, minus you.”

  “What about the other gunfighters?”

  “I talked to Breck Adley and Booney,” I answered. “Breck claims he has no idea if anyone actually checked everyone’s guns because he showed up late, and Booney claims that Dalton was a stand-in for the mayor. I guess Booney had some story planned for the front page of the BC Gazette, but it didn’t work out. That leaves Old Man Simpkins.”

  “Good luck with that.” Wade cleared his throat and glanced through the front windows again as another car drove by. “You know, I hear his grumpiness is a medical condition.”

  “Whatever, Wade.”

  “I’m serious,” he insisted. “The Collins boys swear he has trigger sounds that send him up the wall.”

  I watched as Miso sniffed around the front counter. Can he smell the BS?

  “Like children laughing?”

  Wade shrugged. “It’s just what I heard.”

  “Well, I heard it’s only a matter of time before the sheriff knows for sure if your stolen rifle was used to kill Dalton or not.” I bit the corner of my lip, remembering why I was there. To squeeze more information out of Wade about his current pastimes. “Are you sure you’ve told me everything?”

  “Yeah, I told you everything.” He narrowed his eyes. “I closed up the gift shop. I called Joy, and she told me she was going to be staying even later at the office. I stopped at the Grizzly. I . . . argued with a certain barman, and then I went home.”

  “Where you realized your rifle was missing,” I finished.

  “I didn’t notice that until the next morning,” he said. “But I remember seeing it the day before because Joy made me dust the mantel.”

  “So, we can assume that your gun was stolen Friday night,” I said. “Possibly while you were at work or even at the Grizzly.”

  “I can’t think of anyone in town who could pull that off without blowing it.” Wade stared off at a shelf near the fake jail cell displaying a collection of expensive gemstones—fake ones. “They would have had to pass me at least once, going all the way up the trail to my property and then back. I would have noticed.”

  “Yes, I remember all those rocks you sprinkled around your land just to stop people from driving up to your cabin.”

  “It stopped solicitors from banging on my door and trying to sell me nonsense,” he replied. “And then your sister made me clean them up. One of her conditions on letting me keep the cabin. She gave me a whole list. I guess it’s better than living down on Canyon Street. But I’m sure she’ll get her way eventually.” He scratched a small patch of stubble on the side of his chin. It looked like he hadn’t shaved since the shootout.

  “It must have been someone on foot.”

  “On foot?” Wade chuckled. “The only carved out trail is the dirt road leading to my house. It would have to be someone who knows their way around Pinecliffe Mountain.”

  “Got any enemies who also happened to be survivalists?” I asked.

  “No.” Wade straightened his shoulders as the sound of a car grew closer. This time the car pulled into the entrance to the silver mine tours and parked right in front of the gift shop. Wade smoothed his hair and forced a fake smile as a man in dark shades got out and pushed open the front door. His sharp nose and quilted navy vest were familiar, but I didn’t actually know the man. I knew of him.

  “Mr. Brewer,” Wade greeted him. “I wasn’t expecting you today. I thought I was closing up with Eddy.”

  “Wade, you don’t have to call me Mr. Brewer unless Dad is around,” the man responded.

  “Right. What can I do for you, Emmett?” Wade put on a friendly, professional face I’d never seen him make before. It must have been reserved for work time
only. Joy had a similar one.

  Miso wagged his tail and jumped on him, placing his paws on Emmett’s torso.

  “Whoa there, buddy.” Emmett grabbed his paws and shook them. “I probably smell like huskies. Sorry, they ate all of my doggy treats. I don’t have any more.”

  “Sorry about that.” I pulled Miso away from him, but he couldn’t contain his excitement. “He gets a little hyper sometimes.”

  “Lots of walking can help with that.” Emmett focused back on Wade. “I’m just here to collect some papers from the office. Oh, and I’m supposed to tell you to remember to take out the trash tonight. Charlie says you forgot yesterday.”

  “I didn’t . . .” Wade cleared his throat. “Yes, I’ll take out the trash tonight including any random pieces of paper that might end up in the tiny little wastebasket under your desk.”

  “Appreciate it.” Emmett nodded, unzipping his quilted vest that made him look ready for any sort of weather change. He promptly made his way to the back of the gift shop.

  “He seems nice,” I said quietly, relieved when Miso finally calmed down. “He’s the guy—”

  “Yes,” Wade muttered, placing his elbows on the front counter. “Yes. He’s the Brewer kid who was abducted in the eighties. The wildest thing to ever happen to this town until your boy Patrick rolled in with that actress lady.”

  “Thanks. Those are memories I’m just dying to relive.”

  “Sorry,” he whispered, glancing over his shoulder and toward the door to the break room. “Yeah, Emmett is a nice guy. It’s his dad I have to watch out for, Reuben Brewer. That man’s a real hardass.”

  “Yes, what sort of employer makes you empty the trash at the end of every day?” I crossed my arms. Sometimes Wade frustrated me so much it was fun to tease him. I saw how he made my sister crazy sometimes. And not the crazy in love sort of crazy—the I’m going to have you committed sort of crazy. Hopefully, their relationship would never lead to that sort of commitment.

  “You think that’s funny? I have two women heckling me about taking out the trash. Not one. Two. And one of them is married to the man who signs my paychecks. Freakin’ Charlie. She should take the trash out herself once in a while.”

  “Just take out the trash then, and you won’t have this problem,” I replied.

  “It’s not about the trash, Essie. It’s about being scolded for something before I even have the chance to do it.” He held his hands up in the air, wide-eyed like the logic was obvious.

  “Okay, I’ll pretend I understand what you’re talking about for a minute.” I tapped my foot. “Can we get to the fact that you’re in deep trouble here? I think you need to search around your property for clues. If someone did break into your house, we need to figure out how.”

  “And who,” Wade added. “And when. And why. Why the hell is it always me?”

  “Some people are easier targets than others,” I commented.

  “I’m tired of being dumped on. If I get screwed from this whole Dalton mess, I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t do well in small spaces.”

  “I know,” I responded. “We all know the closet story.”

  “Joy and her big mouth.” He shook his head. “I’m not wasting another minute waiting around here wondering if my life is about to end.”

  “You can’t leave town, Wade.”

  “Technically, I’ll still be within county limits,” he continued. A mischievous smirk lit up his face. “And you’re going to be right there with me.”

  “Is this at all related to that summer camping trip you’ve been talking about all year?”

  “That’s the one.” He held up a finger. “If I’m not in jail come Friday, we’re going.”

  “I’m not going alone.”

  “Miso too.” Wade glanced down at Miso.

  “I meant I’m bringing Patrick along,” I said. Wade and Patrick didn’t have the best relationship. For starters, they didn’t know each other that well. Also, my parents weren’t big fans of Wade because he’d been toying with my sister’s emotions since high school. My parents loved the Jayes.

  Wade clenched his jaw, forcing out a reply. “Patrick too.”

  Chapter 14

  “Don’t laugh or I’ll tell Patrick about the time you peed your pants on Pinecliffe Mountain.”

  The moment Joy joined me on the patio at Oso Cantina, I knew what her cryptic phone call had been about. The sun was going down, and I sat at a table facing Canyon Street with Miso at my feet. He’d the licked the pavement one too many times after one of my tortilla chips had gone rogue.

  “Why are you wearing that?” I pressed my lips together as she sat across from me touching the brim of an oversized sun hat.

  “Do you even have to ask me that?” Joy grabbed a chip and shoved it in her mouth.

  “Now I know why I haven’t heard from you all day. Even after I texted you about my visit with Wade.”

  “Thankfully, it’ll be dark outside by the time he gets home,” she responded.

  “And you’ll be conveniently tucked in bed with the covers over your head?” I eyed my next chip. With Patrick not being around to tease me for counting, it was easier for me to be picky about choosing a nice big fat one. Extra salty.

  “What do you think?”

  “Show me.” I tried to sneak a peek underneath the brim of her hat. “Did you go full-on platinum? How long were you at the hair salon?”

  “Geez, Essie. Did you really have to pick a table outside?” Joy looked up and down Canyon Street at groups of passing tourists. The last bit of sunlight in the sky hid behind jagged mountains. Every storefront along the road glowed, and friendly conversations floated along the sidewalks. It was the perfect time for an evening stroll and a fresh breath of mountain air.

  “Miso is with me.” I shrugged. “I’m not going to run home and put him in his kennel. I’m pretty sure Mrs. Tankle is sitting in the back of her bookshop typing. If he whines, I’ll hear about it for months.”

  “Fine.” Joy cleared her throat and touched the sides of her hat. “Just remember that this is a lengthy process, okay? I have to go back again to get the color I want.”

  “Understandable,” I agreed.

  “And you’re not going to laugh?”

  “Why would I laugh?” I touched the edge of my next tortilla chip—chip number three. “You would murder me in my sleep or something.”

  “You make me sound like some sort of crazy person.”

  “Take off the hat.”

  Joy rolled her eyes and slowly removed the oversized sunhat. I tried hard not to react too quickly, but my eyes went wide. I’d never seen her so blonde, and the lighter shade that brushed against her face gave her a completely different presence. It wasn’t a bad one. In fact, the blonde softened the edges of her face, and it made her eyes more entrancing. She looked, overall, more approachable. More joyous.

  “You hate it.” Joy slapped the hat back on her head.

  “No.” I snatched the hat back. “I don’t hate it. It’s just going to take me a while to get used to it, that’s all. I’ve known you as a brunette my whole life.”

  Joy ran her fingers through her hair. “You swear?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “Good.” Joy composed herself and grabbed another chip. “I spent like five hours at the salon. I’m starving. I’ve also read every single gossip magazine known to man. Did you know there’s this new fad diet where all you eat is pizza? And they called it a cleanse.”

  “Oh, that one.” I took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’ve had a few clients ask about it. The things people do these days to drop the weight.” And I knew those fad diets all too well. I’d tried some of them myself.

  “I like pizza, but I would never eat it every day for every meal,” Joy commented. She dipped another chip into a bowl of salsa between us. “Hey, where’s the spicy salsa?”

  “Oh, right. I forgot you like your food so hot it burns your taste buds.”

  “At least I can eat
things that are spicier than ketchup,” she replied. Joy waved her hand at Tina Santos as she came around with a tray of waters.

  “What can I get you, ladies?” Tina smiled, looking much better than she had the last time I saw her. Her eyes were bright, and not a hair on her head was out of place. Her gold eye shadow glimmered in the fairy lights overhead, and she wore a striped top that I doubted her mother would have approved of. It made her look busty.

  “Tina, would you be able to eat pizza every day for every meal?” Joy raised her eyebrows.

  “Pizza, no. But tacos?” Tina did a double take when she looked at Joy. “Wow. I almost didn’t recognize you with that hair. It makes you look like an elvish princess.”

  “I’ll take it.” Joy nodded. “Some of your spicy salsa, please, and now you’ve gotten me in the mood for tacos.”

  “Me too.” I handed Tina my menu.

  “I’ll get those orders in for you guys.” Tina grabbed our menus and greeted the table next to us.

  “This is going to be more fun than I thought.” Joy happily popped a chip into her mouth. “Maybe I can have some fun with Wade.”

  “Does he like blondes?” I tilted my head. The inner workings of Wade’s brain made no sense to me. I doubted they ever would.

  “He will,” she firmly stated.

  And if he goes to jail?

  “I guess the camping trip is back on.” I cleared my throat and moved a few broken chips aside searching for a perfect number four. “No weirdness, okay? I’m serious. Patrick is coming, and I don’t want to have to explain why Wade is wandering around the campfire naked.”

  “He won’t do that,” she assured me. “He got in trouble for that a few years ago. He’s not stupid enough to do it again.”

  “Only on his own property?”

  “Exactly,” Joy finished. “I don’t know why you make such a big deal about all of the nudity stuff.”

  “I don’t know why you don’t.” I took a sip of my water. I was getting nowhere with her and fast.

  The sound of Joy chomping on another chip reminded me of Wade’s comment about Old Man Simpkins. I wondered if the crunching would have been enough to send him into a rage. Miso rested his head on the top of my shoe while Joy sped through a good portion of our chips and salsa. I sipped on my water some more, saving room for dinner.