She’d enjoyed two big bites before she noticed Zak pulling out the onions again.
“You should try them. They’re delicious.”
He looked at her as if she’d suggested he suck on slugs.
“Whatever. It’s your loss.” Tiff scooped up his rejected onions and made room for them on her burger. As she took another bite, she scanned the room. The sheriff, Deputy Butterfield, and Dr. Pittman had been sitting in the far corner on the other side of the room when Tiff had arrived. She’d purposefully sat as far from them as possible, so Zak wouldn’t feel as if his superiors were monitoring him on his off-time. Now they were gone, the sheriff and deputy home to their wives and children, Dr. Pittman home to what must be his cavernous house on Lost Creek Road.
Their table was now occupied by a young couple out on a date. The way they were leaning in toward one another, things were going well.
There were lots of ranch hands in the bar also. A few of them had dates, but the single guys were mostly gathered around the bar. At another table for two against the wall she spotted a familiar-looking older couple. It took a few seconds for her to recognize Derick’s parents, Will and Jen Sparks. They each had a highball glass in front of them and were picking away at a plate of nachos, though neither looked to be enjoying them much.
“Wow, Derick’s dad looks so much older since I last saw him.”
Zak followed her gaze. “He hasn’t been the same since his heart attack. Lucky for him he’s been able to hand over most of his business responsibilities to Derick.”
“Jen is as gorgeous as ever.” As a teenager Tiff had been in awe of Derick’s mother. She’d always dressed nicer than anyone else in town, and even in her own home, she was never without makeup or nicely styled hair.
“She works at it. She’s in Missoula twice a month for her beauty appointment and every February she takes a three-week trip to an exclusive beauty spa in Arizona. I imagine she’d look a little older without those.”
“Ah, small towns. It’s so much fun knowing everyone’s dirty secrets. Too bad they get to know yours in return.” It wouldn’t be long before everyone heard she’d been dumped by her boyfriend and fired from her job. Oh, well. Now that she’d told Marsha and her mother, neither one felt quite as tragic as they had six months ago.
“The key is not to have secrets.”
She studied Zak’s open face. Did he think she had no idea what had been going on behind closed doors in the Waller household? She decided not to challenge him.
“I wonder how Will and Jen feel about being grandparents.”
“Will seems like the kind of guy who would care about having an heir. Someone to inherit the business, you know?” Zak asked.
“Ugh. I’d hate to grow up with those sorts of expectations.” Never once had her father or her mother implied she or her brother would have any responsibility toward Raven Farm when they grew up. She would have railed against the idea back then.
Now she found herself wondering about her mother’s will for the first time in her life. She had no siblings or cousins. If she didn’t want the farm, she supposed it would be sold after her mother died.
The thought of that made her sadder than she’d thought it would.
Tiff took a closer look at the older couple’s expressions. “I wonder what they’re doing here? Neither one looks very happy. You’d think they’d rather be spending time with their new grandson.”
“They always come to the Dew Drop on Friday night. I guess they’re creatures of habit.”
“By the way, I tried to visit Derick and Aubrey yesterday. I even had a gift for the new baby. But they claimed the baby was sleeping and didn’t even invite me in.”
Zak stabbed his fork at his French fries until he snagged one. “That’s weird. I don’t get Derick these days. It’s like he’s turned into a different person.”
Tiff considered that last sentence. Zak had a point, Derick had changed. “I’m not sure I should say anything, but I noticed a faint bruise on Aubrey’s face. She claimed she walked into a door when she was up late with the baby. You don’t think Derick could have—?”
Zak stared at her. “The old Derick—no way.”
“I agree. He was a killer on the football field, but in real life he was always so gentle and unassuming. His parents leaned on him hard about his marks. Most kids would have been angry or resentful, but he took their criticism in stride. I can’t remember him ever losing his temper.”
“Me either,” Zak admitted. “But maybe the stress of taking over the family business and being a new father is getting to him.”
Chapter Fifteen
Saturday Zak cleaned his apartment, started a load of laundry, and then drove in to Hamilton to pick up groceries and run a few errands. When he’d been a kid Lost Trail had not only his dad’s hardware store, but also a bank and a Super 8 grocery. Back then the businesses had been supported by a population that was at least double what it was now. Many locals worried about Lost Trail shrinking. It seemed most of the younger generation left as soon as they finished school. But as long as he had a job with the sheriff’s office, Zak was more than happy to stay.
On his way home from Hamilton, Tiff called to suggest they meet up at the Dew Drop again.
“Not tonight,” he told her. “I’ve had my quota of beer and burgers for the week.” The extra calories would be detrimental to his running, but they weren’t his real reason for declining. Nadine’s teasing was getting to him. He liked hanging out with Tiff, but Saturday night was for couples.
So Zak spent the night making notes about the homicide case, with Watson on the sofa beside him pretending not to care, but occasionally batting the pen with a fast swipe of his paw. Zak knew the sheriff would not appreciate his insights. But Tiff was right, Riley deserved justice and if he could figure out what had happened to her he might be able to guide the others in the right direction.
Though, if he was honest with himself, he had to admit getting justice for Riley wasn’t his sole motivation. The truth was, he’d always loved a good mystery. He cared about the young woman who’d lost her life so tragically, but intellectually he was drawn to the puzzle as well.
He wouldn’t make the mistake of discounting the possibility that the sheriff was correct. Top of the list of motives had to be an unresolved problem from Riley’s past. Maybe she’d stolen some money from that ex-boyfriend of hers. Or seen something she shouldn’t have.
Also on the list though, should be the possibility she’d angered someone in Lost Trail. Perhaps a john, assuming she’d started her own escort service. Which she might have done out of a desire to save money for that dream house she’d been sketching.
Somehow neither of those theories meshed with his brief impression of Riley. She’d dressed more like a street urchin than a hooker. And she’d seemed genuinely embarrassed to be caught out sleeping in her car. She hadn’t given him any attitude at all.
Yet there had to be some reason she’d been out so late the night she was murdered...
Finally Zak dropped off to sleep, and for the first time since his family left town his dreams were dark and foreboding, juxtaposing scenes of a menacing call girl swearing at him from the corner of a street that did not exist in Lost Trail, with others of Aubrey, crying and imploring him to run for help.
It was a relief to get out of bed at six, even though it was still dark. Zak made himself a green power smoothie and used his computer to catch up on international news. Dull light was seeping from the eastern horizon when he finally headed for the park, walking briskly as a warm-up for his run.
Did he expect to find Nadine waiting for him? Not really, but there she was, geared up in leggings with a black and white geometric pattern, neon green running shoes, a bright pink jacket, and her blonde ponytail pulled through a white hat.
“Colorful.”
“It is hunting season.”
“Not in a state park.” He pointed out the signage.
She shrugged. “This
was the warmest stuff I own for running. It’s freakin’ freezing out this morning.”
“Well, it is November. Ready?” He started at a slower pace than normal, picking his way along the needle-strewn dirt path. The trail followed the river for the first few miles, before veering off in long, gentle switchbacks up the flank of Strawberry Peak.
After five minutes he realized Nadine was matching him stride for stride and he increased the pace. She kept up, no problem, with breath left over for talking.
“You missed a wild time at the Dew Drop last night. You and Tiff go to the movies after all?”
He ignored the question. “What happened?”
“A couple of ranch hands felt they were both entitled to dance with the same girl. I had to give them my drunk and disorderly talk.”
“Any violence?”
“A few punches. But once I flashed my badge they calmed considerably. So what movie did you see?”
He checked his Garmin. They were doing a good pace. Maybe if he went faster he could shut her up, but he’d risk sabotaging his own run too.
“I stayed in last night. Did some thinking about the Concurran case.”
“You think a lot for a dispatcher.”
“I see things. Hear things. Can’t help coming up with some ideas.”
“Anything you’d like to share?”
“I’ve been speculating about the years between Riley moving out of her friend’s house in San Francisco and her turning up in Lost Trail.”
“Far as we can tell she was living on the street during that time.”
“No family, no fixed address, no real way to support herself. So what might some women do to support themselves in those circumstances?”
Nadine snagged a toe on a root, then hopped to regain her balance. He paused, waiting for her.
“You’re suggesting she was a prostitute?”
Her ability to keep a conversation going while she ran at his pace was impressive...and a little annoying. Zak had expected to be able to run her into the ground.
“What do you think?”
“It’s possible,” she conceded. “The boyfriend Emily Blake thought was a bad influence—”
“Connor.”
“Right, Connor. He could have been her pimp as well.”
“Exactly. So she runs away from him, finds this innocuous job in Lost Trail, and once she’s established, figures she can earn some extra money on the side. Only—bonus—no pimp to share the money with.”
“Any evidence to support this theory of yours?”
“Only circumstantial.” He wouldn’t share his hunch about Justin, but he did tell Nadine about the underwear Tiff had seen in Kenny’s office. “If they were having consensual sex, why would Kenny lie about it? Sure she was his employee and that’s not cool. But Riley was murdered, he has to know better than to lie when the sheriff comes around investigating.”
“I see what you mean. If he paid for the sex he’d be a lot more reluctant to admit it. But there’s also the possibility the panties belonged to another woman—perhaps a girlfriend of Kenny’s.”
“But in that case, wouldn’t he take her to his cabin? They’d have more privacy there, not to mention a lot more comfort.”
“You’re right. Having sex on the sofa in your office implies acting on impulse.”
Zak tried to block the image of him and Nadine, alone in the office on Friday night...No. He shouldn’t go there. Not even in his imagination.
He brought his wayward thoughts back to the present and checked the running stats on his watch. Two miles down, and Nadine was still going strong.
He resumed discussion of the case. “If Riley was prostituting herself that would also explain why she met someone so late that night. Maybe it was a john.”
“And something went wrong before they got down and dirty. Yeah.” Nadine gave him a sharp look. “That’s good thinking. You should tell the sheriff your theory Monday morning.”
“If you think it has any merit, go ahead and bring it up.”
“What the hell? You don’t want credit?”
“The sheriff would take the idea more seriously if it came from you.”
Nadine started to slow down. He paused to see if anything was the matter. “I thought you wanted to go for five miles?”
“Turns out this is enough.” She bent over at her waist and rested her hands on her thighs. After a few deep breaths, she stood tall again. “You don’t make any sense, Zak Waller.” Then without giving him a chance to say anything else, she took off running back toward the parking lot.
Zak was stretching his quads after his run when he noticed a woman in a blue parka with the hood up, carrying a baby in a sling-like contraption next to her chest. She was heading for the trail he’d just finished and almost passed right by him before he recognized her.
“Aubrey?”
She started. Blinked at him. “Oh, hi, Zak. Did you have a good run?”
“Pretty good.” He brushed his sleeve across his sweaty forehead. Before she’d gotten engaged to Derick, he’d had a bit of a crush on Aubrey. Just his luck she’d see him at the end of his run instead of the beginning. Sure she was married now. But a guy had his pride.
“Congratulations on your son. Brody, right?”
She shifted the blanket shielding the baby’s face from the cold. “He was screaming up a storm when we left, but he’s sleeping now.”
Zak took a peek. “Cute.”
Aubrey gave a weary smile. “Yes. When he’s sleeping. Which isn’t as often as the books say.”
“He’s a rule breaker is he?”
The baby squirmed, and his mouth puckered as if he’d tasted something sour. Aubrey began to sway. “I have to keep moving or he’ll wake up. Want to walk with us a while?”
Now that he’d stopped running, his body was chilling rapidly. But he couldn’t bring himself to say no. “When did you and Derick bring Brody home?”
“Hard to believe, but it’s been almost two months now.”
“Has it been a difficult adjustment?”
“It’s changed everything, but in a good way. I’m thrilled to be a mom. I hadn’t counted on Derick being such an anxious father, though. He’s so worried about exposing Brody to germs he doesn’t even like visitors coming to the house. I had to practically beg him to let me go on a walk this morning.”
When she twisted her face to look at him, he could see the bruise on her temple. He studied her eyes, looking for signs of this happiness she was talking about.
The wetness pooling in her eyes was not reassuring.
“Derick’s folks must be excited to be grandparents.”
“They love the idea of a grandchild. But not when it’s crying or has a poopy diaper. That’s fine though. Derick and I have it covered.”
“What about your parents?”
She ducked her chin, but not before he saw her lower lip tremble. “I was hoping my mom would come and stay for a while. But she only does Montana in the summer now.” Aubrey kicked a pine cone off the path. “That’s her excuse. The truth is my new step-dad isn’t happy unless he has her undivided attention.”
“That’s tough. But I’m sure you and Derick are doing a great job on your own.”
“Thanks, Zak. I needed to hear that.” She paused to glance at her watch. “Darn, I’d better turn back. Derick didn’t want me gone too long.”
Zak was so cold he had to work hard not to shiver. But he would have kept going if she wanted. As they reversed directions she said, “I’ve been so rude, monopolizing the conversation. How are things with you?”
“Work’s been busy. Obviously.”
Aubrey’s eyes widened. “I forgot you’re working at the sheriff’s office. Of course you’ve been busy. That was awful what happened to that poor woman.”
“Yes. The sheriff is anxious to see the bastard behind bars as soon as possible.” Especially if the bastard was from another county—preferably another state—from his own.
They w
ere back in the parking lot now and since their routes home both required them to turn onto Driftwood Lane, Zak figured they’d walk together for a few more blocks, but Aubrey unexpectedly turned left.
“I have...a little errand to run before I go home. It was nice to see you, Zak.”
She was gone so quickly he didn’t have a chance to ask her about the bruise.
Justin spent Sunday afternoon preparing a roast beef dinner. His father was coming over at six and he wanted everything to be perfect, the way his father had made it for him when he was growing up.
“So these Sunday dinners are going to be regular things?” Willow was setting the table while he peeled potatoes. Geneva was on the floor piecing together a jigsaw puzzle Justin had purchased for her when he’d been in Hamilton for a meeting on Friday.
“Do you mind?”
“It just feels so traditional...Sunday dinner with the family. Sometimes I feel like I’ve stepped back in time since I moved here.”
He was sure the years she’d spent traveling with Paul had been nothing like this.
“Can you handle the change? I think it will be good for Geneva.”
“You’re probably right. And your dad looks like he needs the calories. Does he eat properly, I wonder? He’s so much smaller and thinner than I remember.”
“He was never a very big man.” Unlike his son. As a teenager, Justin remembered his dad always preparing lots of food. But had he kept up the habit after Justin moved out? Probably not. “Next time I visit him I’ll check his fridge. I wouldn’t be surprised if he isn’t taking time to cook for himself.”
“He’s lucky to have such a caring son.”
“It’s only fair, given what a good dad he was to me.” It did worry Justin, though, how much he meant to his father. It was why he hadn’t confided the truth about his cancer—he’d been afraid of his dad worrying too much. Luckily the side effects from the chemo hadn’t been too harsh. He’d been able to explain away his thinness with some vague references to new food allergies, and his thinning hair he’d concealed by shaving off his hair.
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