The Salt Maiden (Leisure Romantic Suspense)

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The Salt Maiden (Leisure Romantic Suspense) Page 12

by Colleen Thompson


  “Listen, I’m sorry the girl’s gone and killed herself,” the older Hooks grumbled. “I’m just being practical, that’s all.”

  “We don’t know it’s a suicide,” Jay reminded him. “There hasn’t been a formal—”

  “I know you worked in the big city, but around here we rely on the sense the Lord God gave us. That gun under the body, tangled in the fingers of her right hand. Face shot half off—you don’t have to be a goddamned coroner to figure out she blew that booze-soaked brain of hers all over this cavern. Left all of us her goddamned mess to deal with, that rich family of hers to explain to—”

  “A forty-five-caliber handgun’s not typically a woman’s weapon,” Jay said as he shone his own flashlight around the walls. “Besides that, I don’t see any dark stains. No blood spatter either, like I’d expect if it was done here.”

  Looking down he added, “Just some pooling on the floor, where the body fluids leaked out before evaporating.”

  “Right back.” Wallace pushed past his father. Before he made it clear of the cave, both men heard him retching.

  Moving forward, Abe bent down to help Jay with the body. “Let’s get a move on with this. I could use some fresh air myself.”

  “I could stand the help,” Jay said, “but I need you to let me deal with Dr. Vanover.”

  Abe shrugged. “Suits me fine. Only when you do, be careful. Don’t want her thinking there’s more to this than there is.”

  Jay hammered him with a hard look. “Somebody already gave her that impression when they shot at us this morning.”

  The smaller man grunted with what sounded like surprise. “Shot at you? Here?”

  “Yeah—like he knew what we were going to find.”

  Abe cursed. “The goddamned idiot. I expect he figured he would make things better, shutting her up before she could call in her environmeddlers or what have you. But to shoot at that woman’s sister, too—and with you here for a witness.”

  “What idiot? Abe, do you have some idea who might’ve done this?”

  Another shrug. A hesitation. And then: “Dennis Riggins, who else? I heard he has near everything he owned tied up in Haz-Vestment. If that deal doesn’t go through, he’s sunk.”

  Jay stared, unable to comprehend that Abe Hooks would take the two men’s family feud to this level, that he would accuse Dennis, a man the Eversoles had considered a good friend for decades. Jay wanted to tell the old judge where he could shove his theory—except he couldn’t quite dismiss it out of hand. Not considering Dennis’s reaction to last night’s news about the Haz-Vestment investigation.

  As furious as Dennis had been, Jay could almost picture the huge man stalking over to Angie’s adobe, intent on scaring Dana out of town. Or maybe Angie herself, since he suspected that she’d come back to stir up trouble. Maybe somehow he blamed her for the FBI’s investigation—thought she’d put them up to looking where they had no business.

  But never in a million years could Jay picture Dennis firing in his direction. No matter how upset the man had been about his failed investment, he couldn’t possibly—

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Abe said. “You’re thinking this is all about that mad-on my family’s had with the Riggins bunch since I was just a kid. And you’re thinking how your uncle R.C.’s buddy wouldn’t have it in him to kill someone. But you don’t really know that bastard. Nobody knows him the way I do. If you had any idea what he’s done…”

  Jay wanted to demand an explanation, but he heard the low murmur of voices outside, voices he assumed to be Wallace’s and Dana’s. He should have figured she wouldn’t wait too long, alone, with nothing left to do but brood. He wished he’d thought to ask Estelle to come, too, to sit with her. The county clerk might not have been friendly when Dana had first arrived in Devil’s Claw, but now that the worst had come to pass, Jay knew Estelle would call her friend Suzanne Riggins, and the two of them would righteously downshift into full-fledged comfort-the-bereaved mode, armed with an array of casseroles and sweet Rice Krispies Treats.

  “Excuse me a minute, Abe,” Jay said. Maybe he could talk Dana into going back to the Suburban—or at least make sure Wallace didn’t set her off with some remark about her sister.

  But Wallace proved to be Estelle’s son. When Jay stepped outside he saw his deputy take Dana’s hand and tell her how sorry he was for her loss.

  She nodded stiffly before noticing Jay’s presence and abruptly withdrawing to move toward him. “I can’t wait any longer—can’t talk to my mother on the phone as if nothing’s happened. I need to see the body, Jay. I have to know for certain.”

  Wallace’s sharp glance banked from Dana to Jay and back again, and the deputy’s expression soured. Clearly he had connected the dots between her use of Jay’s first name and their arrival here together. Since Jay had already told him she had fled the adobe late last night, Wallace would have to suspect where she had stayed until morning.

  “You look like you’re feeling better,” Jay told him, “so why don’t you go back inside and help your father with that stretcher while I speak to Dr. Vanover?”

  Wallace pressed his lips together, and frown lines furrowed his expression. But after a moment’s hesitation he did as he was asked.

  “Dana,” Jay said as he pulled her into his arms and squeezed her, “I know you think you want to see her, but it’s not a good idea. Trust me. You don’t want to remember her this way.”

  “I know it will be hard. I know the…the body’s been there quite a while. But she needs to be identified. What difference does it make whether I do it here or in whatever morgue you end up sending her to? Do you think a cold steel slab in some strange city’s going to make things any easier?”

  “I think…” His heart ached as he said it. “I think this will have to be one of those IDs done by dental records. Or maybe DNA. The face…a lot of the face is missing. And quite a bit of skin, too.”

  He felt Dana’s muscles tense against him, felt the warmth of her tears soaking the light fabric of his duty shirt.

  “Do you mean…Was it animals?”

  “Not that killed her.” Though perhaps something had gnawed later to tear flesh from both the abdomen and upper legs. “The medical examiner will tell us more, but you need to know we found a gun beneath the body, in the victim’s right hand. There’s a possibility the damage to the face was self-inflicted, but we won’t be certain until the—”

  Shaking her head, she pulled away to stare up into his face. “Are you sure it was the right hand?”

  He thought about it, nodded. “I’m certain. And I documented it with photos. Why?”

  “Because my sister is left-handed, Jay. She didn’t shoot herself.”

  “I’ll be sure to note that, Dana. But right now it’s just one piece in the puzzle. I don’t want you jumping to some conclusion that’ll only cause your family even more pain in the long run.”

  Moisture glimmered in her green eyes, tears that welled up from a soul-deep wound. “More pain than what, Sheriff? Than knowing that my sister’s dead—or that the people running Rimrock County will be overjoyed to hear it?”

  As the passing hours slowly dragged the day toward darkness, Dana felt her heart pulled toward an even blacker chasm. Jay had wanted her taken somewhere more comfortable, but she’d refused to leave, thinking that at any moment she would get out of his Suburban and insist on seeing Angie’s body. Instead she struggled to find her way past his warning that she wouldn’t want to remember Angie as she was now. But as the minutes ticked down, Dana couldn’t force herself to move, and finally the van left for El Paso with its somber cargo.

  Sometime later Jay opened the driver’s-side door and climbed inside, the last to leave the scene.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked her, and reached over to pull off her sunglasses and brush a stray lock from her eyes.

  His kindness cracked the shell of her inertia, and she sagged into his arms and exhaled. “I know you’re not glad she’s gon
e. I’m sorry if I lumped you in with Abe Hooks and those others. I’m sorry—you’ve been nothing but kind to me from the start.”

  He stroked her back. “No apologies needed. It’s been a rough day for you—a lot of rough days strung together. If snapping at me could make it any easier, I’d volunteer for a hell of a lot more than you dished out.”

  She dredged up what she hoped would pass for a smile. “I can’t stop thinking about Angie, about the way she was when she was younger. She wasn’t always…troubled. Not until the summer she turned sixteen.”

  “Did something happen that year?”

  “We lost Dad that June. It was awful.” Even now, so many years later, her eyes stung at the memory. “He was so young, only forty-three. A cardiologist who liked to set a good example for his patients. He didn’t smoke or drink. He ran at least five days a week, no matter what the weather. It was misting rain the day a lady cutting through our subdivision hit him with her minivan. His head slammed down on the concrete—it was very quick.”

  “I’m sorry. That must’ve been tough on you.”

  She nodded. “Brutal. I was thirteen at the time, and I thought my daddy was—how’s that song go?—ten feet tall and bulletproof. And my mother—she was devastated. Dad was the only person she ever really opened up around. Afterward she withdrew from Angie and me almost completely. And that’s when Angie started getting into trouble. I think at first all she really wanted was some attention. When that didn’t work she seemed hell-bent on punishing Mom for not caring.

  “I tried everything I could to save what family I had left,” Dana went on. “I told Angie she was wrong about Mom. She did care—does care. She just doesn’t show it the same way most mothers do. She can’t—Oh, God, I don’t know how to tell her. I should have called already, but how can…?”

  His calloused hand cupped her chin, while his thumb caressed the line of her jaw. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. Let me make the phone call. That’s part of my job.”

  Though she felt like a coward for grasping at his offer, she dug her phone out of her purse and gave it to him, then turned her face away to press her forehead to the window glass. “Just hold down the number one. I’ve got her programmed on the speed dial.”

  Outside she watched the dimming sky and picked out the first few bright stars. I wish I may, I wish I might, disappear for this one night, she thought as the knowledge of her failure and its consequences pounded at her temples.

  “Mrs. Huffington?” Jay asked, using that grave calm that so often presaged bad news in lawmen’s voices.

  Dana closed her eyes and pinched her lower lip between her teeth.

  “We’ve recovered human remains from a location in the desert,” Jay said. “We have no way of knowing how long they might have been there or whether the body has any connection with your daughter’s disappearance. But if we want to rule that possibility out, we’ll need you to gather a few items and get them to us as soon as possible. We’re looking for dental records—even old ones—names, dates, and locations of medical procedures you’re aware of.”

  Dana remembered Angie’s appendectomy in Santa Fe, the fractured wrist she’d suffered while living near Phoenix, and several rounds of residential rehab—all cut short when she’d prematurely checked herself out and taken off for parts unknown. Though her sister had refused for years to see their mother, she had never hesitated to list Isabel under the “responsible party” section of her admittance papers. In spite of her husband’s disapproval, Isabel had paid each bill without complaint…

  Except, Dana realized, her mother had never gotten any statements related to Angie’s prenatal care or labor and delivery. Angie might have turned to a charity that helped unwed mothers or to the adoptive family themselves, if she’d had any involvement in choosing who would raise her child. Dana was seized with an impulse to ask Laurie Harrison about it, though she had no idea why the question felt so critically important.

  “Yes,” Jay said into the phone, “Dana’s here with me. She’s a little shaken, but she’s strong. Would you like to speak to her now?”

  After a slight delay to listen, he added, “I’m sure she’ll understand you need a little time first. I’ll contact you as soon as I can with details about where your courier can bring those records.”

  He ended the call a moment later and laid a hand on Dana’s shoulder. “Your mother’s a strong woman, too. She’s going to get through this. She wanted to compose herself before she spoke to you.”

  Dana nodded, understanding her mother’s need to regain some semblance of control. “Thank you. Thank you for being so…You handled that far better than I could have.”

  “Unfortunately, I have experience.”

  Despite the lump thickening her throat, she changed the subject. “So what’s next? Do you have to go to your office?”

  “I do, but first we’re stopping back by my place. I’m making us some dinner, and we’re going to get you packed.”

  “I told you, I’m not hungry, and what do you mean, packed?”

  “You’ve been through a shock. Your body doesn’t know what it needs. You wouldn’t eat the sandwich Estelle brought earlier, and I see you’ve only had one bottle of water the whole day. You need decent food, drink, and sleep tonight—in Pecos. I’ll drive you there myself if you’re not up to it.”

  “But why? Can’t I stay with you again?”

  He shook his head. “As much as I’d like that, Dana, we can’t do it. I need to keep my head clear and my mind focused, without risking any bias. Even if I felt sure you would be safe in Devil’s Claw, there’s no fit place for you to lodge.”

  “I don’t want to sit in some hotel room an hour away waiting for the phone to ring.”

  “And I don’t want to have to worry about you every minute while I’m doing my job.”

  “So take me with you.”

  He shook his head, his expression regretful but unyielding. “No, Dana. This isn’t Nancy Drew. It’s an investigation into a suspicious death, one that could turn out to be a murder. Do you know what a defense attorney could do with the fact that the sheriff was sleeping with the victim’s sister while looking into this? Not to mention what the FBI would make of it.”

  “The FBI? Why would they be involved?”

  “I can’t give you any details, except to say they’ll be looking into this because of a related investigation.”

  She stared a hole into him. “You can’t do this now, Jay. You can’t cut me off like this, treat me like I’m just anybody, as if last night we didn’t—”

  “Last night meant a lot to me.” He met her gaze directly. “But I can’t let it mean more than justice for the woman we found.”

  She turned away to stare back out the window, where a few more stars had joined the evening offering. She understood what he was saying, even respected his professionalism. But that didn’t stop the hurt—and the feeling of rejection—from welling up like blood out of a fresh wound.

  “Fine,” she said. “Just take me back to your place to pick up my rental. Then I’ll gather up my sister’s things and—”

  “Your sister’s belongings have to stay for now. I’ve already sent Wallace to secure the adobe, and I’ll be taking her journal into evidence as well.”

  “I want that journal, Jay. It’s mine and my family’s. I’m the one who found it, and we both know it could end up in custody pretty much forever if I let you take it.”

  “I’ll make you a copy, all right? It’s the best that I can offer.”

  When he touched her shoulder she shrugged off the contact. So without another word he put the Suburban into drive.

  As Dana glanced back one last time toward the lonely hillside, the bright streak of a meteor caught her attention. But almost before she recognized what she was seeing, it faded out against the blackness of the summer sky.

  The Hunter should have ended it last night, while he had her all alone. Should have taken out the damned dog and overpowered her quickly,
before she’d had the chance to call for help.

  Instead he’d backed off, overwhelmed by the dog’s noise—the barking that would carry for miles in the silence. Worried that, with such a warning, Dana Vanover would produce a weapon; that cornered, she might try to fight him hand to hand.

  If the desert had taught him anything, it was that even the most formidable predator had to choose his opportunities, to minimize the risk of an injury that might slow him. And if the desert hadn’t convinced the Hunter, Angelina had certainly driven home the point by demonstrating that even the weakest prey could inflict one hell of a lot of damage when struggling for its life. He’d been afraid to take the chance that her sister might as well.

  But fear was just another word for weakness, a weakness that must be faced and conquered if he meant to survive.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I met a traveller from an antique land

  Who said:“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone

  Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,

  Half sunk, a shattered visage lies…

  —Percy Bysshe Shelley,

  from “Ozymandias”

  Tuesday, July 3, 4:37 P.M.

  99 Degrees Fahrenheit

  Jay glowered at his ringing office phone and swore. Within hours of the first reporter—a fox-faced, forty-something brunette out of Houston—breaking the story of Dana Vanover’s “heroic quest” to find her missing sister and save a dying child, other members of the press had clogged his phone lines in an effort to get his take on the search. And when word got out about the partially mummified female recovered from the salt cavern they’d gone absolutely ape shit, racing one another to get here first and sniff out even juicier details.

  But ignoring the call was not an option, so he picked up and said, “Sheriff’s office.”

  “Jay? Is that you?”

 

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