High Country Cop

by Cynthia Thomason

  “So? Lawton knows about cars. He could turn out to be a valuable employee. And he has to leave the tree farm as soon as shearing is done. I also talked to the two mechanics in town.” Carter waited a moment before saying, “So what’s your point, Sam?”

  “Only that you’re not making friends over this association with a known criminal. Most people think Lawton didn’t have any reason to come back here, and he should have picked someplace else to live.” Sam took a spoonful of soup and swallowed. “Folks are talking, Carter, and they’re not happy. I’m just telling you so you can guard that pristine reputation you’ve managed to achieve. Don’t let Lawton bring you down.”

  “Nobody’s going to bring me down,” Carter snapped. “That’s just crazy talk.” He stood.

  “Where are you going?” Sam asked. “Your sandwich is coming up.”

  “Somebody’s got to fight crime around here,” he said. “Tell Allie to cancel my order. I’m suddenly not hungry.”

  * * *

  SAM WATCHED HIS friend walk out of the restaurant. Poor Carter, he thought and wished his boss could make amends with Miranda, or at least get her out of his mind. Carter was a good guy, the best. If true happiness couldn’t come to Sam, he would hope it would happen for Carter. Right now Carter seemed to be wound as tight as a Swiss watch, and all because that woman had come back to town.

  Sam shook his head and tried to concentrate on his meal. He’d been around. He knew what it was like to fall for the wrong person, and he didn’t want that to happen to Carter. He smiled at Allie, certain that the feelings he had for her were genuine, the real thing.

  He’d waited a long time to find a sweet woman like Allie, and he believed she was the one he could give his heart to because she would always take care of it. Maybe it was too soon to feel that level of trust in another person, but Sam did trust Allie, and it was a good feeling. He wanted the same for Carter, but mostly he was darned happy he’d found a perfect love for himself.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  DRIVING INTO THE station on Saturday morning, Carter contemplated the changes in his regimented life. A little over two weeks ago, he was Chief of Police Carter Cahill, known, respected and, dare he say it, even admired. He’d suffered some loss in his time on earth, but he’d grounded himself with work and dedication and honest friendships. He’d come back to stand tall and steadfast in the town he’d always returned to.

  Now he was mentoring a recent ex-con, one who, along with his brother, Dale, had made his job more difficult in this town. According to Sam, the townspeople were practically organizing a lynch mob. He was being accused of mistreating an innocent child over a dang cookie. He was battling pangs of jealousy for a guy who, like him, had known Miranda and lost her. And worst of all, he was fighting a reincarnation of feelings he’d struggled to bury with his past.

  He shook his head as he pulled into the station. There was no denying it. There was something about Miranda. There always had been. He wasn’t over her, but he could sure as heck learn to cope with her presence in his town. Pretty soon Lawton would be settled and Miranda could go back home to Durham with her pretty little daughter and her determination to make the world a better place. But until then Carter would have to depend on his fortitude to avoid getting trapped by those old feelings.

  Betsy was hanging up the phone when he walked in. “Carter, you might want to handle this one yourself,” she said.

  Alarmed by her tone, Carter stopped. “What’s happened? Who was on the phone?”

  “Lucy Dillingham from the Hummingbird Inn.”

  The hairs on Carter’s nape prickled. “Go on.”

  “There’s been some vandalism over there. Nobody’s hurt, but apparently property was damaged...”

  He didn’t hear the rest of what Betsy said. The station door slammed behind him as he darted to his patrol car. Within five minutes he was racing up the drive of the Hummingbird Inn.

  Miranda, Emily and Mrs. Dillingham were standing around Miranda’s car. Miranda looked worried, and Mrs. D, wringing her hands, looked as if a blight from heaven had descended upon her. Emily was running around the car taking pictures. The closer Carter got, the more the reason for the commotion was obvious.

  Miranda’s car, the one she’d bragged was the first new car she’d ever owned, was covered in graffiti. On the sleek charcoal-gray exterior was painted the words “Go Home, Take Lawton with you, Down with the Jeffersons” and a few other noteworthy comments. And the poor victim was sinking into the ground on four flat tires.

  The car may have taken the brunt of the vandals’ creativity, but clearly Miranda was the victim here. She stared at her car and repeatedly shook her head. Carter got out of the patrol car and walked up to the women.

  “Thank goodness you’re here, Chief Cahill,” Mrs. Dillingham said. “I feel so violated.”

  Carter tried to find some sympathy for the inn owner, whose late-model Cadillac was pristinely devoid of graffiti, but the feelings were hard to come by.

  “I came as soon as you called, Mrs. Dillingham.” Turning to Miranda, he said, “You okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  Only she wasn’t. Her eyes were red, and streaks of moisture had dried on her cheeks.

  “My beautiful car...” she said.

  “I’m taking pictures,” Emily said proudly. “Mommy says we’ll need them for assurance.”

  Carter didn’t bother correcting the girl.

  “Mommy says we’ll get the car painted, and it will be good as new.”

  “That’s true,” Carter said. “Maybe even better.”

  She darted around to the other side of the car and began snapping photos on a smartphone. Carter doubted an inch of that automobile hadn’t been preserved for posterity in the memory of the phone.

  “I’m going to send a picture to Daddy,” she said. “The car didn’t look like this when he was here yesterday.”

  Carter darted a look at Miranda. “Donny was here?”

  “Yes, for a few hours.”

  “You don’t think...?”

  She frowned. “No. Donny wouldn’t do this.”

  Not completely convinced, Carter stepped back and directed his next question at both ladies. “What happened here, other than the obvious? Did either of you see anything?”

  “I thought I heard some noise in the middle of the night,” Mrs. Dillingham said. “I’m a light sleeper, and well, you know, Carter, that my entire life savings is wrapped up in this house. I’m quite vigilant about protecting my property.”

  “What time was that?”

  “I didn’t look at the clock,” she said. “I didn’t see anyone outside, but I expect the criminals were wearing black. Isn’t that the custom when crooks are sneaking around?” She sighed, glared at Miranda. “I suppose I’ll have to invest in extra lighting now.”

  “I’m so sorry this happened,” Miranda said. “I’ve already called a tow service to come for the car. Hopefully it will be gone before too many people notice.”

  “I’m sure it’s too late for that,” Mrs. Dillingham said. “This is a busy road and dozens of cars have gone by.”

  Carter cleared his throat, an attempt to get back to business. “I think we all should be grateful that just an automobile was the target of this vandalism. Do either of you have any idea who might have been responsible?”

  Miranda shook her head.

  “Oh, it could be anyone,” the innkeeper said. “Ever since Mrs. Larson arrived, I’ve been hearing comments.” She returned to her hand wringing. “This has always been such a quiet town, a place where the residents could feel safe, and now...”

  Carter took his cell phone from his pocket. He called Betsy and requested that an officer be sent to the inn immediately with a full investigation kit. When he got off the phone, he said to Miranda, “We’ll get samples of the paint. I figure it�
�s your garden-variety spray paint, but maybe we’ll get lucky and discover where it was purchased. We can dust the car for prints, but generally in a case like this...”

  “I know what you’re going to say,” Miranda responded. “Whoever did this will probably get away with it.” She raked her fingers through her loose hair. “I can’t believe anyone in Holly River would do this. I’d heard that some folks weren’t happy that I’d come here to help Lawton, but this is violence. It’s one thing to have a difference of opinions, but this...”

  Carter took Miranda’s elbow and led her away from Lucy. “Look, Miranda, you’ve had more contact with Dale lately than I have. Do you think Dale could have done this?”

  “Lawton’s own brother? My cousin?” She shook her head. “I would hate to think so, Carter, but perhaps. Truthfully he seems to resent everything I’m trying to do for Lawton.”

  “Excuse me, Chief,” Mrs. Dillingham interrupted. “Mrs. Larson, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to find other accommodations. I just can’t have this type of incident occur again.”

  “I think the vandals made their point, ma’am,” Carter said. “My hunch is that this was a one-time-only event.”

  “Still, I would be more comfortable...”

  “I’ll look for something else today,” Miranda said. “I don’t know if I’ll find anything on such short notice. Besides, we’re now in the middle of a busy weekend.” She stared longingly at the comfy cottage she’d been sharing with Emily.

  “Tell you what, ladies,” Carter said. “Until Miranda finds something that will work for her and her daughter, I’ll make sure this property is watched closely by the department. I can guarantee you, Mrs. Dillingham, that your inn will never be safer than it will be as long as Miranda is here.”

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “I’ll send a patrol by at scheduled times during the night. I’ll make certain all my deputies know that this occurred.”

  “That is some comfort,” the innkeeper said.

  A second patrol car pulled into the inn, and Sam got out. After speaking to the people gathered, he walked around the car. “Wow, that’s some fancy artwork.”

  “See if you can get me some evidence,” Carter said. “We can’t have this type of thing going on in Holly River. And you’d better hurry because a tow is coming for the car.”

  “I’m on it, Chief,” Sam said, and opened the investigation case he’d brought from the trunk of his car.

  “Can I help?” Emily said, staring with wide eyes at the assorted implements in the case.

  “Oh, no, honey...” Miranda said. “The officer...”

  “Of course you can,” Sam said. “I can always use a good assistant to hand me stuff from the box.”

  Miranda gave Carter a sideways glance as if to say, “That’s how you treat a child, Mr. Clueless.”

  “Anything else any of you can think of?” Carter asked, getting back on familiar ground. “If not, I’m going back to the station to file a report on this.”

  “One thing, Carter,” Miranda said. “Where can I rent a car? I’m sure the repairs on mine will take a couple of days.”

  “Call Ready Rent in Boone,” he answered. “They will bring a car out to you.”

  “Great. I’m supposed to pick Lawton up this afternoon and take him for his driver’s test. Then I was going to help him find a reasonably priced secondhand car. He’s been saving his money from the farm job, and has enough for a good down payment.”

  Hoping to avoid frightening Emily or giving Mrs. Dillingham more ammunition to insist that Miranda move, Carter spoke in a low voice. “Miranda, do you think you should stick with your plan? I mean, this car incident is meant as a warning, but a warning for what is the thing that worries me. This level of vandalism is rare in Holly River, and I don’t like that it’s directed at you.”

  “I’m not leaving, Carter. I came here to do a job. The fact that I’m helping my cousin is incidental to my role as a social worker. I will see this through until I’m convinced Law will make it here in Holly River. And while I’m here—” she smiled “—I’ll depend on the local law enforcement personnel to keep Em and me safe.”

  “We’ll do our best.” Before he returned to his car, he asked one more question that stuck in his mind. “How is Donny? It’s been a long time.”

  “He’s fine,” Miranda said. “Funny, but he often asks about you. Maybe you two should sit down over a beer some day and talk about your differences.”

  Knowing that wasn’t likely to happen, Carter simply nodded. Too much had happened for him and Donny to make amends, though he wouldn’t mind if Donny were here now as an extra measure of safety for Miranda. But he wasn’t, and Carter figured Miranda wouldn’t tell him about the damage to her car. It was up to Carter to protect Miranda and Emily. As he drove away from the inn, Carter decided just how he would do that.

  * * *

  LATE THAT AFTERNOON, near the end of his shift, Carter drove out of town to the Muddy Duck Tavern. The bar wasn’t crowded, so he took a seat on a stool at the end of the worn wooden counter. He had a few minutes to talk to Sheila before the usual Saturday afternoon crowd came in for beers.

  Sheila was wiping down the surface of the bar. He knew she’d seen him, but obviously wasn’t in a big hurry to get him a drink. He was in uniform and wouldn’t order anything that would ensure her a big tip anyway. She looked tired, her face void of obvious makeup, her brown hair pulled back into a thin ponytail. She wore a pair of skintight jeans with a tan Muddy Duck T-shirt.

  She sauntered down the bar to where Carter was sitting. “Afternoon, Chief Cahill,” she said. “What’ll you have?”

  Her voice was husky. A cigarette smoldered in an ashtray next to where she’d been standing.

  “Just a ginger ale,” he said. “And some information.”

  She unscrewed the top from a soda and poured the contents over ice in a glass. “That part was easy,” she said. “Now, what sort of information brings you all the way out here to the Duck?”

  “I’m checking with several of our local businesses, Sheila. We’ve had some incidents lately, mostly thefts, and I thought you might be able to tell me something. I figure your clientele might have let something slip and you overheard.”

  She slapped a hand on her hip. “You think the guys that come to the Duck are criminal types, Chief? I’d have never taken you for a prejudiced person. Our drinkers are the salt of the earth.”

  Carter glanced around the bar, taking in the grease-stained walls and soiled upholstery on the chairs. “I’ll bet they are,” he said. “But just in case...”

  “What’s been stolen?” she asked.

  “Sounds strange, I know, but gardening equipment. That leads me to believe that whoever took the things must be interested in putting in a crop of some kind.”

  “I wouldn’t know anything about that,” she said. “We don’t get many farmers in here.”

  “I’m not saying the thief is a farmer,” Carter said. “More than likely this is an amateur who’s just trying his hand at growing something and stealing the tools rather than investing a lot of money.”

  “Can’t help you, Chief. Conversations around here don’t usually center on who’s planting what.” She walked away. “But good luck with the case.”

  “One more thing, Sheila.” She stopped but didn’t turn around. She polished a glass at the bar sink. “You would call me if you heard anything? I mean, even the slightest hint could be a big help. A couple of our local businesses have suffered considerable loss.”

  Putting the glass down and bracing herself with her hands against the bar, she stared at him. “You know I would. And since one favor deserves another, I have something to ask of you.”

  “What’s that?”

  She came back to his end of the bar. “You may know that one of your officers is seei
ng a good friend of mine, a gal named Allie who came from Wilmington to stay with me. She’s a good kid, had her heart broken and is trying to rebuild her life.”

  “Holly River is a good place to do that,” Carter said.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Like you said before, occasionally I hear things working the bar. And I’ve heard some things about Sam McCall. He’s a rounder, Chief. You know that. Every single woman in town knows Sam, and he could probably have any of them. So I don’t know why he’s picked Allie.”

  “Maybe he likes her, simple as that,” Carter said.

  “I doubt it’s that simple,” she said. “Here’s the thing... I promised Allie’s mama I’d look out for her, and I’m trying to do that. I’d much rather see her hook up with a nice stable guy, not a player like Sam. I just don’t want her hurt, you know?”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Carter asked. “I don’t make a habit of getting involved in my officers’ personal lives. If you don’t want Allie seeing Sam, talk to her about it.”

  “Oh, I have. I’ve warned her about him, and I’m going to keep warning her. But she’s only half listening. I thought if you talked to Sam...”

  “I’m not going to do that, Sheila. Sam and Allie are adults. They make their own decisions as far as I’m concerned, and some of them might turn out to be mistakes. That’s life, isn’t it? We learn by living?”

  Sheila shrugged. “I’m kind of surprised to hear the nicest cop in North Carolina say that. I figured you’d help me out with this.”

  “I guess people think I’m nice because I mind my own business.”

  Sheila frowned at him. “Just thought you should know how I feel.”

  “Okay. But this won’t affect your letting me know if you hear anything about the recent crimes in Holly River, will it? I can count on you?”

  “Absolutely, Chief. I’m as good a citizen as anybody else.”

  “Thanks.” He took three bills from his wallet and left them and his half-full glass on the bar. “Appreciate your time, Sheila. Have a good night.”