Blue Sage (Anne Stuart's Greatest Hits Book 3)

by Anne Stuart

  “Sorry,” Doc mumbled, still looking slightly dazed. “Sorry,” he said again. “Of course she said something. And you’re right—it’s none of my damned business. I’m being an interfering old fool.” The hearty tone didn’t quite ring true, but Ellie was satisfied, and for the moment that was all that mattered. There was no way Doc was going to fool Tanner—not now.

  “I’ll grant you,” Ellie said, “that seven-fifteen is a little early for visitors. Tanner thinks my coffee’s too weak. Pour yourself a cup, Doc, and tell me what’s got you out and about so early?”

  “You make great coffee,” Doc said loyally, and Tanner allowed himself an audible snort. “I’m afraid I’m just one step ahead of Dave Martin. He headed out for Tanner’s place, but when he doesn’t find him I expect he’ll be here next.”

  Tanner watched with interest as Ellie’s freckled face paled in the dimly lit kitchen. “Who’s Dave Martin?” he asked.

  “He’s what passes for the law around here,” Doc said, pouring himself a mug of coffee. “He’s a good, strong boy and does a good enough job for what little crime we get.”

  “Good and strong,” Ellie echoed cynically. “Muscles all over, particularly in his brain.”

  “Now, Ellie,” Doc admonished her. “The boy’s no intellectual, but he does well enough.”

  “Dave Martin’s capabilities are beside the point. Why is he looking for me?” Tanner inquired in a carefully bland voice.

  “I guess because you’re the only newcomer in town,” Doc said, squirming a bit.

  “But what’s happened?” Ellie demanded. “Why should he be looking for anyone?”

  Doc squirmed even more. “You remember Mabel King’s dog?”

  “That nasty crossbred Doberman? The one that savaged Maude’s cat? Of course. What’s he got to do with anything?”

  “She found him this morning with a bullet in his brain.”

  Ellie took a shaky breath. “Well, I’m sure he’s no great loss. Someone must have thought he was running deer or something.”

  “One of George Young’s cattle was found the same way,” Doc interrupted her. “And one of the sheep down at the Cutler ranch, and three of Marcy Laverty’s chickens.”

  “Oh, my God,” she said, and her eyes were haunted.

  Tanner stood straight. “It sounds like Charles Tanner’s son is the likely culprit. Who else would follow in his father’s footsteps? Of course, the fact that I don’t know these people or where they live is of no importance. The fact that I’d have no reason to do such a thing doesn’t matter either. Is Martin coming alone or does he have a lynch mob with him?”

  “Now, son, that kind of attitude doesn’t help anybody.”

  “I don’t want to help anybody,” Tanner said.

  They all heard the sound of the car pulling up in back of the Judge’s house. Ellie rose, moving across the room to the back door with only the faintest trace of a limp. “He’s alone,” she announced.

  “Uh, Ellie,” Doc cleared his throat. “Don’t you think you ought to put on something a little more, er…?”

  Ellie looked down at her voluminous flannel nightgown and grinned. “If Tanner can control his lustful passions in the face of this erotic lingerie I think a happily married man like Dave Martin can. This is more covering than people usually wear.”

  “Yes, but it’s nightclothes,” Doc’s voice trailed off as Martin’s sharp-knuckled rapping broke through.

  Ellie opened the door and waved the burly young cop into the room. “Come on in, Dave,” she said affably. “We were expecting you. Tanner, why don’t you pour Dave a cup of coffee? Maybe he’ll appreciate it more than you do.”

  Tanner had to admire Ellie. She was acting as if this was an early-morning offshoot of her bridge club, offering refreshments, polite conversation and all the social amenities. If the thick-necked young man with the humorless expression was about to bring out the handcuffs he couldn’t very well do it in the face of Ellie’s determined sociability.

  He could try, though. “You Charles Tanner, Jr.?” he demanded gruffly.

  Tanner handed him a cup of coffee, smiling sweetly. “I am.”

  “Where were you last night?” Tanner knew right then and there he could play it two ways. He could be friendly, helpful, try to make the townspeople accept and understand him. Or he could spit in their eyes.

  Dave Martin wouldn’t respond well to friendliness and helpfulness. Neither would most of the people he’d met in Morey’s Falls. Tanner smiled, the smile that never reached his eyes. “Who wants to know?” he said gently.

  “Listen, boy, this is a criminal investigation.” Dave Martin’s face was getting redder by the minute.

  “And I’m more than happy to help. I can tell you that I wasn’t prowling around Morey’s Falls shooting animals. I don’t have a gun, and if I did it wouldn’t do much good. I don’t know how to use one.”

  Martin’s expression was incredulous. “You don’t hunt?”

  Tanner shook his head. “I don’t kill anything bigger than flies, Martin.”

  “That still doesn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m not going to answer your question. A lady’s reputation is involved.”

  He heard Ellie’s smothered laughter. He saw Doc’s expression darken for a moment and Dave Martin’s face turn sullen and disbelieving. As if that weren’t enough, Lonnie Olafson chose that moment to wander in from the front hall, and it was Tanner’s turn to frown. Damn it, Ellie had to start locking her doors.

  Lonnie looked the same as always, his boyish hair rumpled, his blue-and-white striped oxford shirt rolled up at the elbows, his chinos artfully creased. His running shoes were encrusted with mud—the only change from his usual yuppie perfection.

  “Hello, again, Dave,” he said, moving in and helping himself to the coffee. He spilled a bit, scalding himself, as Tanner looked on impassively. “Tanner, Doc, Ellie.” He greeted them in turn.

  “What are you doing here, Lonnie?” Ellie’s irritation was obvious.

  “Serving the public of Morey’s Falls. This is news,” he said self-righteously.

  “My kitchen is news?” Ellie scoffed. “I think I’d like you all to leave. I need to get dressed. When I come downstairs it would be nice if all of you were gone.”

  “All of us, Ellie?” Doc questioned in a worried tone of voice.

  She gave him a warmer smile than Tanner had ever seen her give another man. Certainly warmer than she’d ever given him. “All of you,” she said gently. “Except Tanner.” And she left the room without a backward glance.

  “You better watch yourself, boy,” Dave Martin said. Coming from a man a decade younger than Tanner, it sounded not so much pompous as absurd. “We don’t like your type around here. The sooner you get out of Morey’s Falls, the better for everyone.”

  Tanner didn’t have to look around him to know there’d be agreement, reluctant or enthusiastic, on the faces of the other two men. “What’s my type?” he asked.

  Dave Martin turned even redder. “Don’t sass me. You better watch your step. And don’t go disappearing on me—I’m not through with you yet.”

  Tanner smiled, his best shark’s smile. “Martin, in one breath you tell me to get out of town; in the next you tell me to stay put. Make up your mind.”

  There wasn’t much Martin could say in response to such a reasonable statement. With a final threatening glower he stomped out the back door, slamming it behind him.

  Doc’s eyes were troubled, filled with something Tanner wished he’d never seen. “We’d better go too, Lonnie. There’s nothing for the papers here, and I’ve got patients coming in another half an hour.”

  “I just got here.” Lonnie’s high-pitched voice cracked slightly, as if he hadn’t quite settled into puberty.

  “You gonna go against Ellie’s wishes?”

  “Of course not.” Lonnie set his cup down on the counter, sloshing more coffee over the sides. He headed for the door, never once looking at Tanne
r.

  Doc followed him, pausing in the open doorway, turning to say something to Tanner, then clearly thought better of it. “For what it’s worth,” he said finally, “I know you didn’t have anything to do with those animals.”

  There wasn’t anything else he could say. “Thanks.”

  He watched as Lonnie skirted the yard and headed for his car. A BMW, Tanner noticed with a curl of his lip. Doc was driving his pickup, and as he pulled away his face settled in a look of profound trouble.

  Tanner turned away. He wasn’t used to having to worry about other people, other than Alfred. But already he cared about Doc, cared about what he was going through.

  He moved back for more of Ellie’s weak coffee, then stopped, squatting down. Thick clumps of dirt littered the floor. He’d seen that dirt on Lonnie’s sneakers, but Lonnie hadn’t been near that part of the kitchen. One of the other morning visitors must have brought in the same mud. He picked up a clump, rubbing it between his fingers, and then rose, stretching wearily. He didn’t like the suspicions that were filtering through his mind, and he didn’t like any of the alternatives. Damn, why couldn’t things ever be easy?

  * * *

  Chapter Eleven

  * * *

  Tanner was standing in the kitchen, his back to her, when Ellie came back downstairs. He was staring out the window, out into the morning sunlight, and the faded chambray shirt stretched across his shoulders. His dark-blond hair hung below the collar of the shirt, and tension radiated through his finely muscled body. She stopped in the doorway, watching him, knowing he knew she was there, knowing he was letting her watch. And still she couldn’t stop herself.

  His legs were long, encased in jeans that had seen hard wear, and his hips were narrow, sexy. Everything about him was sexy, and she would be a fool to pretend otherwise. She sighed, a small, quiet sound of resignation that nevertheless traveled across the huge dark kitchen. He turned then, his blue eyes cool and assessing as they took in her appearance.

  She kept her expression bland, as she’d taught herself years ago, but she wondered what he was thinking. She’d braided her hair in one thick, loose plait, and she was dressed pretty much as he was, in a denim shirt and faded jeans. She’d spent almost five minutes buttoning and unbuttoning her shirt, finally saying “The hell with it!” and leaving three buttons unfastened. If he looked closely enough he’d be able to see the remnants of the sun from her shirtless ride two days ago. Knowing Tanner, she had no doubt he’d look.

  His eyes didn’t linger on her chest, her hips or her face, despite all her hard work. They dropped to her feet, encased in sensible riding boots. “That’s probably a better idea than riling an already riled population,” he said. “Are you going to let me ride Shaitan?”

  Simple and direct and easy to answer. “Forget it,” she said sweetly.

  If Tanner’s laugh wasn’t particularly mirthful, it was better than that distant, haunted expression that shadowed his eyes. “We’ll see,” he said. “I’ve worn down harder women than you.”

  “I’m stubborn,” she said.

  “So am I.” And they weren’t talking about horses.

  They were halfway out to Maude’s before he brought up the subject that hadn’t been far from either of their minds. “Has this happened before?”

  She turned to look at him. It was a bright, warm day, and she was wearing sunglasses, the smoked lenses giving her an infinitesimal measure of protection from Tanner’s gaze that saw far too much. “What happened before?” she asked warily.

  “Animals being shot. Apart, of course, from my dear departed father’s nasty habits,” he said, his voice low and bitter.

  “Not that I know of,” she mumbled unhappily.

  “Great,” said Tanner savagely. “What else did he do? What else have we got to look forward to? Is anyone absolutely certain he died that day? Maybe he’s been lurking up in the mountains, waiting to come back.”

  “He died that day,” Ellie said, her voice strained. “I saw his body.”

  He was silent for a moment. “All right,” he said finally. “We can rule out the return of Charles Tanner. I suppose we can rule out ghosts. So what possibilities does that leave us with? Another madman, waiting to wreak havoc on the innocent town of Morey’s Falls? Or a malicious newcomer, out to ruffle a few feathers?”

  “You didn’t do it.”

  “Thanks for that vote of confidence. I don’t know if anyone else will agree with you,” Tanner said evenly. “I could have done it. I had your car, and the whole night stretched in front of me with nothing to fill it. After all, you’d sent me away in favor of a bridge game.”

  “You don’t even know where those people lived.”

  He shrugged. “I could have just picked random farms.”

  “You don’t know how to use a gun.” She heard her own voice sounding a little panicked. It was a game she didn’t want to play; she didn’t want to have to suspect him when she’d been so certain.

  “I could have been lying about that,” he said reasonably. “You saw how shocked your rent-a-cop was when I told him I didn’t hunt. Maybe that was to throw everyone off the trail.”

  “Tanner, you didn’t do it. I know it, and at least Doc knows it.”

  “So who does that leave? Come on, Ellie, it’s a reasonable enough question. It needs to be asked.”

  “You’re right. Unfortunately, I don’t have any answers.”

  “No other lonely hermits living on the edge of town and madness? No human time bombs waiting to explode?” Tanner pushed mercilessly.

  “Not that I know of. And it’s a small town, Tanner. I’d know.” She turned into Maude’s long winding drive.

  “Well, then,” he said with a shrug and that charming smile that never reached his eyes, “I guess that leaves me.”

  And Ellie, unable to think of any way to refute it, was silent.

  Maude was standing on the porch of her house, watching for them. “Are you coming in for coffee?” she called to them, her voice brittle and cracked with age, “or do you want a thermos to take with you?”

  “We’ve already made our lunch, Maude,” Ellie answered, wishing she could warn the old woman, wishing she could tell her not to look at Tanner with such sad, hungry eyes.

  Maude cackled suddenly. “You two look like you’ve done a lot for only ten o’clock in the morning. Did you spend the night together?”

  Ellie sighed. “Why does my private life have to be town business?”

  “Because you decided to become the town pet,” Tanner said in a cool undertone. “No, Maude,” he pitched his voice louder. “She sent me home so she could play cards.”

  “I always said the girl had no sense,” Maude said, nodding. “Jamie’s already fed the horses, including that beast of Satan. Have a good time. I won’t expect you till I see you.”

  They headed toward the horse barn, Maude still watching them. Tanner was walking at a loose, easy pace, but Ellie still had to struggle to keep up with him. She had her cane with her, the gold-headed one that clearly grated on Tannr’s nerves, and she did the best she could. She would have been boiled in oil before she asked him to slow down. He hadn’t smoked a cigarette since they’d left, and if he could be forbearing so could she.

  “What do you think of Maude?” She hoped she sounded as casual as she wanted to be.

  If nothing else it made him slow his walk just a bit. “Maude?” he echoed, puzzled. “I like her. She’s a character, for one thing, and for another, she’s one of the few people who’s welcomed me. Why?”

  She hoped the heat in her cheekbones came from the blazing sun. “Just curious. Some people find her a bit overwhelming.” She moved ahead of him, into the cool darkness of the barn. “You saddle and bridle Hoover while I take care of Shaitan. The tack’s in the corner.” And she walked away before he could ask any more uncomfortable questions.

  By unspoken consent they headed up the path, back to the meadow where they’d first met. There were other trails,
other meadows, other streams just as lovely, and for a moment Ellie had considered suggesting an alternative. Considered, then rejected the notion. The high meadow had always been her special place. Its sanctity had already been breached. If she didn’t go back now with Tanner himself, she’d never feel comfortable there again.

  Not that it was really an issue, she reminded herself as Shaitan picked his sure, delicate way up the narrow path. In less than two weeks she’d be gone, she’d never see that meadow again. There would be other mountains for her, other meadows.

  The path widened, and Tanner brought Hoover up beside her. Shaitan sidled nervously, his eyes rolling in his head and his ears flattening as he hissed a warning. Hoover reacted with typical nerves, but Tanner had him firmly under control.

  He did know his way around horses, there was no question of that. He’d saddled and bridled a strange horse in less time than it took her to ready Shaitan. To be sure, Hoover was relatively docile, and Shaitan was high-strung. But there was no gainsaying the fact that he had a way with him. Hoover was responding almost as well as his overbred stablemate, moving with the slightest pressure from Tanner’s long legs, arching his head and almost prancing. Tanner looked as if he’d been born in the saddle.

  But he wasn’t. He had been born in that cabin, with no one but Charles Tanner and Maude to help Marbella that night so long ago. She wondered if he knew.

  “So why don’t you tell me,” Tanner drawled softly, “why you spend your life doing nothing in a hick town like Morey’s Falls?”

  She looked over at him. He’d pitched his voice low, and Shaitan’s ears had come up again, accepting the interloper. Which just went to prove that Shaitan had no taste in human beings. He’d tried to bite Poor Lonnie’s hand off the last time she’d made the mistake of inviting anyone to go riding with her.

  “Why do you think?” she countered.

  “Well, if the Judge didn’t leave you money you’d have to work, and I haven’t seen any signs of that. Just your Lady Bountiful act for the peasants. But if he left you money I’d think you’d be long gone.”