Krewe of Hunters, Volume 3: The Night Is WatchingThe Night Is AliveThe Night Is Forever

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Krewe of Hunters, Volume 3: The Night Is WatchingThe Night Is AliveThe Night Is Forever Page 20

by Heather Graham


  “What about Caleb?” she asked.

  He took a deep breath, wondering how much she could handle at the moment. Despite what Jimmy had said about her being a fighter, she’d always seemed to be such a fragile woman.

  “Caleb was killed in the old mine shaft off the trail today,” Sloan said.

  She didn’t act shocked. Nor did tears spring to her eyes. She stared at the ceiling, and then her gaze slid to meet his. “You’re going to think I’m horrible, Sloan. I just feel...numb. I was so in love when I married him. He was big, he was confident.... He seemed to rule the world. Then my life slowly became endless days of fear. Fear that he wouldn’t like dinner, fear the house wouldn’t be clean enough, fear he wouldn’t like the clothes I’d bought for Jimmy. Later on, I just wanted Jimmy to grow up so I could leave, you know? And then I was praying I’d have the nerve to get out of there.”

  “So what happened, Zoe? What was he involved in?”

  She flashed him a rueful smile. “Do you think he would ever have told me what was going on with his business or anything else?” she asked. “I was there to cook, clean, have babies and keep my mouth shut. I didn’t do so well on the babies—we only had the one. But Jimmy was such a great kid...and then I saw what Caleb was doing to him.”

  “Jimmy will grow up to be a good man, Zoe.”

  “Now that his father is dead.” She suddenly appeared to be furious. “Whatever he got himself into this time, he nearly killed Jimmy and me, too. What kind of father does that?”

  “I’m sure Caleb didn’t know you’d be at risk. He loved his son, Zoe, even if he misdirected that love sometimes. Caleb’s killer probably thinks you knew something about what was going on.”

  “Sloan, they could try for us again.”

  “I’m going to have an officer watch over you two while you’re here,” he said.

  “And then what?” Zoe asked.

  “Then I’ll have an officer watch over you when you’re out,” he said. “I promise, Zoe. I’ll see to you and Jimmy.”

  He bade her good-night. He was the only one in the hospital by then. Newsome still had people at the Hough house, and he had people in town.

  He called the county detective and told him he needed an officer at the hospital.

  “You really think whoever’s doing this would risk trying to kill the Hough family in the hospital?” Newsome asked.

  “I think we’d be irresponsible if we don’t keep guard over them.”

  “Yeah,” Newsome said wearily. “We’re getting stretched pretty thin here, but this kind of thing requires the county to be in on it. I’ve got men on overtime as it is, but you’re right. I’ll get someone over there.”

  “Do we have any news yet?” Sloan asked him. “From forensics?”

  “About the basement at the theater? They’ll be going through what they lifted from that place for weeks. We haven’t gotten a damned thing from the mine shaft, and I had those men try everything. It’s blocked by solid rock about fifteen feet from where you found Caleb Hough’s body. They sifted for anything they could find, but the place was clean. What he was doing in there when he was murdered is a total mystery to me.”

  “What about the old corpse in the desert?”

  “The medical examiner’s office cleaned down to the bone. No identity yet. Ms. Everett could give us a likeness of the man, although I imagine he was dug up as a scare tactic. I wish we had more, Sloan, but we just don’t.”

  “Maybe finding out who the dead man is will be important,” Sloan said. “Anyway, I’ll wait until you can get someone down here.”

  He went to tell Zoe that an officer was on the way, but she was sleeping again.

  He returned to the waiting room.

  He figured Jane might have fallen asleep on one of the chairs. She hadn’t. She was sitting very straight, looking beautiful and composed as always. He smiled when he saw her. “Ready?”

  “Yes. By the way, I checked in with Logan. He asked for you to call him.” She was looking at him strangely—almost as if she expected him to tear into her for some reason.

  “He’s still awake?”

  She nodded.

  He called as they left the hospital.

  “Jane’s kept me up on events in your town. Seems it hasn’t been easy for her to get the work done.”

  “She’s done it already, for all intents and purposes. We know who the skull belonged to.” Sloan went silent for a minute. Logan, he thought, was going to ask for Jane to come back. He winced inwardly. She was only on loan. He’d been a fool to get used to her being there, on both a personal and professional level.

  “But, yeah, it’s kind of rough here right now,” he said.

  “I wondered if you could use some help. I have some of the team working at a historic hotel in the capital now, but I can bring Kelsey, and the two of us can come out. Are you willing to let us give you a hand?” Logan asked.

  Sloan looked at Jane and then he understood. She’d been afraid that she’d stepped over the line by bringing in more federal help.

  He smiled slowly, shaking his head.

  “I’d be delighted, Logan. I was just talking to the lead detective at the county force. We’re stretched thin, so if you can get here by tomorrow, that would be great.”

  Logan said he’d make it by eleven.

  Still grinning—almost stupidly, but he was dead exhausted—he told Jane, “I don’t know who said what and I don’t care. We can use the help. Come on, let’s get some sleep.”

  He was surprised that at his house he suddenly felt awkward. Their day had included the hospital for Jane and another dead body, and two attempts at murder. And they were no closer to solving the mystery.

  Cougar appeared as soon as they entered the house, demanding attention. As he’d already discovered, Jane was an animal lover. She crouched down to play with the cat.

  Johnny had left food, a pot of goulash, in the refrigerator. They sat down to eat, but neither was very hungry. When they’d finished, he said, “You can sleep in my grandfather’s room. There’s actually a bell on the bedside table in case you need anything.”

  “Why?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Why would I sleep away from you?” she asked. She offered him a rueful grin. “I thought the sleeping-together part went really well.”

  He stood and came over to her, kneeling down and taking her hands. “I thought it went more than well,” he said. “It’s just—”

  “If you need to be alone, that’s okay. I understand. But don’t do it for me. The doctor said to take it easy. He didn’t say that I had to stop any kind of physical activity. Although, frankly, I wouldn’t mind a long hot shower first.”

  He rose. “You know where it is. Although you did have a concussion. You could fall in the shower or...I can wait to have mine until you’re finished.”

  “Or we can just shower together,” she suggested.

  In a matter of minutes, she’d undressed. Her thigh holster and gun were placed in the bedside table in his room; he brought his into the bathroom. After today, he wanted it within arm’s reach—no matter what. Jane didn’t question the gun on the towel rack. She stepped into the shower, turned on the water and they both took a minute to luxuriate in the hot steam before finding the soap.

  The day seemed to evaporate with the steam and with her touch. Her fingers moved dexterously over his body while he returned the sensual ministrations. Soap bubbles slid down her breasts and they were slick to the touch. It was incredibly erotic.

  And yet, he realized, she only had to smile to arouse him.

  Her fingers ran down his back and curled around his growing sex, and he knew it was time to leave the water.

  “We need to get out,” he said thickly.

  “I’m not going to fall,�
� she told him.

  “I am!”

  Jane turned off the water. They got out of the shower and picked up towels, drying each other, pausing for deep, wet kisses that increased his desire to the breaking point. They started to leave the bathroom; he went back for his gun.

  He laid it on the bedside table, then pulled her to him and they fell on the bed together. Their bodies were silky clean, caressed by the cool sheets. She straddled him, damp hair trailing over his shoulders and chest as she stroked him and delivered more wet kisses to his naked flesh. He took her in his arms, fascinated again by the scent and feel of her, his lips straying along her arms, her thighs, her sex. She rose against him and he felt her warmth envelop him. Her eyes were on his as she moved slowly and then with a sensual rhythm that sent his libido soaring. They switched positions so that he stared into her eyes as he moved over her. Far too soon, he felt the urgency of his climax overtake him. Then he felt her shudder in his arms and they lay together, trembling, seeking breath and still entwined.

  In the same position, he slept.

  But in his dreams he saw Longman again, up high on a plateau. Jane was talking to him, and he could see the dark cloud, evil rising around them.

  And heading for Jane.

  He awoke with a start. She still slept peacefully at his side.

  He rose carefully, dressed and took out a notepad. He had all the pieces, he thought. He just had to put them together.

  He started writing down a timeline, including everything that had happened, everything he knew.

  Then he went to get the books he’d bought at Desert Diamonds to read through them.

  Caleb Hough hadn’t been a nice guy. He’d argued with just about everyone. Including Grant Winston.

  And he’d gotten the history books from Grant Winston’s Desert Diamonds. Jay Berman had the same books.

  There had to be something in the books. Something to do with the infamous gold heist?

  Two people—one a man, one a woman—had attacked Zoe and Jimmy Hough.

  A stranger, Jay Berman, had been killed, and so had a local, Caleb Hough.

  Just how many people were involved in what was going on?

  10

  Jane came out of Sloan’s room, wearing the same robe she’d worn before, to find that he’d already brewed coffee and had apparently been working for several hours. He had the books from Desert Diamonds on the table, along with sticky notes, a poster board and a long list of notes for himself.

  “As we started to discuss earlier, I think there’s a clue in the books,” he said. “I’ve skimmed them both. The one by Sheriff Fogerty talks about the town around the time the stagecoach filled with gold disappeared. So, I’m beginning to suspect that Sage knew something about the robbery—and that’s why she was killed. She charmed everyone who came to the bar after her performances. And while a lot of the rougher clientele preferred the saloon, I’ll bet Sage had her share of admirers who came to the theater. She might have heard something from one of them. And I don’t believe she was having an affair with Red Marston. From what I’ve been reading, they were friends from back east and he came to town with a reputation for being a playboy.”

  “Why did she visit Trey Hardy in his cell?” Jane asked.

  “The same reason—simple friendship. Sage was a charmer and so was Trey Hardy. They might’ve seen each other as kindred spirits. I gather that most people liked Trey, just as they liked Sage.”

  “So why kill Red? If we’re right about that...”

  “I think both Sage and Red were killed because they knew too much—just like I think Zoe and Jimmy were attacked because someone thought they knew too much. And I’m convinced that Jay Berman came here because someone he knew was in on the situation, and that he was murdered because he got greedy—or because someone thought he’d spilled the beans.”

  Jane poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down across from him. “But if this is all about gold, why would these murders be taking place now? It’s not illegal to look for gold lost over a hundred years ago.”

  “I don’t know,” Sloan said, sounding frustrated. “I’m assuming the state would weigh in on the gold, since it was stolen, but there’d have to be an enormous finder’s fee. Maybe the people involved have no intention of handing it over to the state. And everyone’s always assumed that the gold’s around here somewhere. The stagecoach never made it to Tucson. It just disappeared. It would be easy enough to make a stagecoach disappear in the desert. The horses were probably let loose and could have been adopted by Apaches in the area. This book—the one by Brendan Fogerty—suggests the driver and guards were murdered and buried in the desert, and the gold was hidden somewhere, secreted away.”

  “What would the silver mine have to do with it?”

  “Again, I don’t know—unless it was being used as some kind of cache or even a meeting place. The mine didn’t go out of action until long after the stagecoach disappeared.”

  “So you really think this is about gold?”

  “I can’t figure out anything else. It’s almost as if digging up the corpses from the past is like a warning to someone who’s involved. One of the conspirators, if you will. That’s why I’m not sure the theater is safe.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “Let’s get going. Logan says he’ll rent a car in Tucson. He and Kelsey will be in town sometime in the midafternoon. Before then, I want to start on a few things. I’ll ask Johnny Bearclaw to bring that water bottle you found in the mine to the lab. We must be able to get a DNA hit off it, and that could at least send us in the right direction.” He shook his head. “I should’ve done that right away. But now I want to get to town and question everyone at the theater about the live rounds in that gun—and when they last saw Caleb Hough.”

  “I’ll get dressed,” Jane said. “And the bottle is tied to the saddle I was using.” She shrugged.

  “Good. I’ll let Johnny know,” Sloan told her.

  Twenty minutes later, they were on their way back to town.

  As they drove, she flipped through the books Sloan had gotten at Desert Diamonds. Both were well-written and did an excellent job of recreating the past; it was still the wild, wild west. Everyone carried a gun. Ladies were ladies, whores were whores—and actresses were looked on as little better than whores, though a woman like Sage McCormick would be admired, desired and placed on a pedestal.

  By all accounts, Sage loved her husband and child, but was known as well to frequent the bar of the Gilded Lily. She even smoked a cigar upon occasion and was a good poker player.

  She frequently visited Trey Hardy, once he’d been taken to jail, and was disconsolate when he was shot down in his cell. Trey Hardy, being an outlaw who’d often held up stagecoaches—but let the driver and guards go—could have learned during his time in jail that a stagecoach bearing the last of the area’s gold was leaving town. And maybe he knew who might have gone after it. So if Sage McCormick had been spending time with him, it was logical that he’d told her about the intended heist.

  “I’ll bet she did know something,” Jane murmured. “But what?”

  “And will we ever find out?” Sloan responded. “Hey, take my phone. The number for the hospital should be in the contacts. See how Jimmy, Zoe and Jennie are doing.”

  Jane dialed, putting the phone on speaker so that Sloan could identify himself. He was told that Jennie remained unconscious. Zoe and Jimmy were doing well.

  “There’s still a county officer watching the halls?” he asked.

  The nurse giving the report assured Sloan that an officer was on duty. He come in to spell the night man just an hour ago.

  Sloan thanked her, then said, “One more. Find the number for Newsome’s office. And please put it on speaker again.”

  Newsome was at the morgue, but one of his offi
cers told Sloan that all they’d heard so far was that the blood on the cane found near Jennie Layton belonged to Jennie Layton. The cane itself had been wiped clean.

  Sloan sighed, disgusted that they couldn’t seem to get any solid evidence. He turned to Jane. “When we get there,” he said, “we’ll play along with the street theatrics again.”

  She glanced at him, surprised.

  He offered her a crooked smile. “I can force a county investigation, but that won’t help figure out what’s really going on here. I may even find that people are more willing to talk when we’re in costume. Anyway, a costume isn’t all that different from a uniform.”

  “You know this is kind of crazy, don’t you?”

  “Everything about it is more than a little crazy,” he agreed.

  It was still early, not quite 8:00 a.m., when they arrived. But the doors to the theater were unlocked. As they entered, they saw Henri sitting at one of the tables with his cast.

  “Jane!” Valerie cried, running over and giving her a hug. “How are you? You poor dear. Do you have any idea what happened to you yesterday? Should you really be up and walking around?”

  “I’m fine,” Jane assured her.

  “But...do you remember anything more?” Alice asked. “I mean, could you have tripped?”

  “No,” she said flatly.

  Valerie looked at her anxiously and then at Sloan.

  “Oh, my God! Sloan, haven’t you found out anything? It’s all so horrible! Caleb—Caleb Hough—was murdered!” Valerie said. “Sloan, he’s not a stranger. He’s one of us! Please tell us you found out what happened to him.”

  “No, I don’t know yet,” Sloan said. “And someone attempted to murder Jimmy and Zoe, as well. There’s something going on here in Lily—and everyone’s in danger until we find out what it is.”

  “Someone tried to kill Jimmy?” Brian repeated. “Jimmy Hough? The kid’s decent. He used to come by a lot. He loved the show. And his mom! What a doll. Why would anyone hurt her?”

  “But they’re okay? The family’s okay? They were...attacked?” Alice asked.

 

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