He’d stopped the drugs. Become a cop. He’d helped people. Surely, that had to count for something with the man upstairs.
Weatherby, his direct supervisor with the WSP, nodded at him as they passed in the hall. “You ok, Hollace? You look sick or something.”
That was Rex Weatherby to a T. Caring and considerate.
Jim bit back a snort. Yeah, right. Weatherby was a real asshole.
They’d been in the same class at the academy, too. Now, here he was, lording it over everyone that he was chief of their post. Like he’d accomplished something.
No, he’d just been a Weatherby. Weatherbys had been cops for more than a million years around these parts.
That’s the way it was in Masterson County. And the counties surrounding it. You couldn’t make anything of yourself unless you had the family to back up the walk.
Jim hadn’t. All he had had around here had been Luther and the kids.
Everything he had, he had earned on his own.
He’d left Weatherby hanging. He’d better answer. Like it or not, the jerk was his boss. “Just a migraine or something.”
“Take some Advil and get out there. We’re short staffed as it is.”
Aye, aye, asshole.
“Will do.”
5
There were secrets in Masterson County. Miranda remembered the Beise family. She’d been a close friend to the eldest daughter, Monica.
One day, they’d been making plans for a sleepover—Monica had always wanted to hang out at Miranda’s—and then the next, Monica and her entire family had been gone. Just gone. No one had ever figured out why—or where they had gone.
Knight was at Miranda’s side, big and looming. His hair was the color of rich mahogany. He wore it cropped close to his head in the back and shaggy on top. The suit was sedate charcoal, but it made the shoulders look wider than they could really be. He was fun to look at it in that perfect, sculpted-male way some men had. Nice and chiseled, just the way she’d always liked.
Pity he was such a cranky ass.
She’d get through this case, shake Knight loose, and then relax with her family for a day or two before returning to St. Louis.
Case first. There was a reason Clint had asked for her. He needed help. Miranda was going to do her best to see he got that.
She led her new buddy into her grandmother’s home, through the front doors that had been open twenty-four hours a day for as long as she could remember.
The only time they had ever closed had been for her grandfather’s funeral when she’d been twelve. That and the loss of her mother when she’d been a month shy of her eleventh birthday had been the darkest times of her life.
They were both buried in the Masterson Community Church Cemetery just a few blocks away.
Miranda would make a point of putting flowers on their graves before she left town. She did every time she came home. And always would.
“Seriously?” Knight asked. “There’s no one in here.”
“I know. I’ve been lecturing since high school. But Grandma trusts her neighbors. And her guests. My sisters and cousins have continued the tradition.” Never had they had anyone cause a bit of trouble in her grandmother’s neighborhood. “Nothing has ever happened here, at least, and the private family hall is locked. If there’s no one here now, I’ll check you in and get us settled. We’ll head over to the diner and let my family know we’re here. I didn’t call ahead this time.”
“Great,” Knight grumbled.
Miranda resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was home; she wasn’t going to let Knight suck the joy away from her.
That’s what he was. A joy-suck vampire.
Well, she didn’t have to be his victim. Let him hate everything, then.
“Hello?” she called as soon as she stepped into the foyer. It smelled like Grandma and women and home.
There was no other feeling like this in the world.
A woof was her only greeting. The sound of dog nails on the hardwood echoed through the entryway. Miranda laughed quietly. It was one of the most welcoming sounds in the world.
A fluffy, tri-colored border collie limped into the foyer from the private kitchen off the back of the lobby. Her tail was down now from the arthritis, but it was going ninety miles an hour. Miranda’s heart melted, seeing the love in the clouded eyes.
The man beside her tensed. “A dog in a hotel?”
“It’s an inn. Relax,” Miranda said, kneeling down. “She’s actually not supposed to be in here, but she knows how to unlatch the door when she wants. Chloe doesn’t bite. Hey, baby. I have missed you. Chloe is my dog. Well, mine and my cousin Dusty’s. It was best for her to stay here when I went to school, and then Quantico and St. Louis. Masterson is all she’s ever known. I couldn’t take her to St. Louis and lock her away all day. She’s used to being free, here at the inn.”
She ran her fingers through the long hair and brushed a kiss across a doggie forehead. The eyes were cloudy, and Chloe was frailer, but the spirit was still right there. Chloe would always be her first love. “Where’s Grandma, baby? The rest of the inn-mates?”
The dog just pushed against her hands.
“If you’re finished…Dr. Talley?”
Miranda stood. Before Knight had a complete meltdown. “I suppose I am.”
She went through the process of checking him in. Her room was unused by the inn and was always just waiting for her to walk in. “You’re in room twelve. It’s just down from the private hallway that leads to mine and my family’s rooms. I’m right on the other side of the wall. So I hope you don’t snore too loudly. This place has been in my family since this town was less than five years old. It was rebuilt in 1925 after a fire gutted the original. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
He just grunted.
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes like a teenager. Obviously, grunting was his favorite sound.
Miranda carried her bag to her room and was ready to roll in five minutes. After one last snuggle with Chloe, she waited for her companion.
When he returned, she stood. She’d changed into jeans, western-style boots, and a plaid shirt out of her closet. Miranda tried to make it home at least one weekend out of the month when she could. She had plenty of supplies in her suite.
Knight was even more severe and buttoned-down than he’d been before, even though he wore the same suit he’d traveled in. It was the eyes that did it. He was going to stand out like the proverbial sore thumb around here.
Miranda kept her opinion quiet.
He’d have to figure it out himself. “You ready? Grandma runs the diner in town. I suspect my sisters and cousins are there to help with the weekend rush. The Talley Inn and Flo’s Diner are town institutions and are definite family affairs.”
“I see.”
“Agent Knight, I’m not certain you can.”
Anticipation filled her. She’d been away from her family long enough.
He got his first look at the town of Masterson as they walked. It did resemble the fictional perfect small town. Picturesque, quaint. People even waved.
Knight bit back a snarl.
He didn’t know why this place pissed him off so much, but it did.
It most likely had something to do with the woman walking at his side.
Constant cheer had always grated on his nerves. The world he lived in wasn’t exactly a cheery place. It never had been, even before he’d been shot.
It irritated a man, especially when he was trying to think. Knight looked at her again, unable to stop himself. The woman looked good with the town as a backdrop. Too good. That just irritated him even more.
She was the type of girl he’d always despised on principle. Wholesome, sunny happiness that wasn’t realistic at all.
His scowl deepened.
People stared at him as he passed. Miranda got hellos and waves. Even a hug or two. Like she fit, like she belonged.
He supposed she did. Some people just had places in their souls i
n a way Knight had never fully understood.
The diner, Flo’s, was just up ahead. She sped up as they got closer. Anticipation was in every step she took. She was practically skipping with joy.
Knight stayed on her heels, biting back his irritation with every step.
6
Normally, Jim avoided Masterson County as much as he possibly could. It was probably best that people had forgotten all about him and what he’d been like as a twenty-one-year-old punk kid fourteen years ago. But he needed to see. To know what was going on.
He hadn’t meant to follow Gunderson around today. But he’d seen the man’s truck go by, and he’d just put his own squad car in gear. Just followed him.
Jim wanted to see the FBI in person.
The previous nine weeks had been utter torture for him. He’d probably drunk more beer in the last nine weeks than he had in the nine years before. Not to mention the whiskey he’d chased it down with. All trying to get Helen’s smirking face out of his head. To keep Clint’s know-it-all ways from pissing him off.
Well, Clint wasn’t doing so hot at getting to the bottom of who’d killed Helen, now, was he? Had to call in the big guns on what should have been a simple crime-of-passion investigation. No.
Guess Clint wasn’t as smart as he’d thought himself. That was something.
Joel Masterson had been around, too. Asking questions of anyone who’d known the Beise family. Well, no one had asked Jim.
Of course, Jim and Luther had only been stepcousins. There probably wasn’t anything anywhere to connect them. Except tax records.
He’d rented a cabin off Luther when he’d been twenty-one. That was something that he’d have to explain away if asked. But he’d had at least six other landlords since those days.
It had been fourteen years, after all.
They should just let the spirit of Helen go. No one had cared that the old bat was gone fourteen years ago. Why should they care now? Leave the evil witch buried.
She’d deserved what had happened to her. He’d always known that.
It had helped keep some of the guilt off him, anyway.
The diner’s sign glowed up ahead. He’d heard through the rumor mill that one of the feds was Flo Talley’s eldest granddaughter. He remembered her. Gawky, skinny kid who’d hung around Luther’s daughter all the time. She’d been seven or eight years younger than Jim. Same as Monica, Luther’s daughter.
Now there was a real winner. Monica had learned early on how to use her tits and ass to get what she wanted. No doubt from watching that mama of hers. There had been a time or two Monica had given him a good time—in exchange for something she wanted.
Jim had been a man; he hadn’t been able to resist all the time. Not much had happened between them, but enough…enough that he hadn’t forgotten.
He wondered if Flo Talley’s granddaughter knew that? Was that one of the girlish secrets they’d shared at their little sleepovers at the Talley Inn?
Probably not.
Before he could stop himself, Jim parked his squad car and headed right toward the thick of things. It was a Saturday night. Flo’s Diner was always packed. Always.
He’d just be another diner in the midst of the crowd.
It had been years since he’d stepped inside. Flo had always had some of the best onion rings he’d ever tasted. He was just driving through and stopping for dinner. That was all.
Nothing wrong with that.
A young woman with light-brown hair and big, green eyes met him at the door. “Hello, welcome to Flo’s Diner. I’m Meyra. Will it just be you, Officer?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jim straightened up. He might be about forty pounds overweight, but he was still a man. And he knew he wasn’t half bad looking in the uniform. He’d never had much trouble finding women to date. This one was probably ten years or so younger than he was, but she was damned hot. He hadn’t known Flo’s had such a pretty woman inside. Or he’d have come back this way sooner.
He studied her. She looked familiar. With redder hair, she’d probably look a lot like that Talley girl he’d just been thinking about.
The FBI.
He guessed she was one of the Talley girls, then.
“You related to the owner, miss?”
She gave a solemn nod and a practiced smile. “She’s my grandmother. Flo’s is a family business. Darcey will be your server tonight. I’ll be happy to take your drink order. Tonight’s special is meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and green beans, with red velvet cake.”
He requested a soda, then tried to engage her in conversation. She was shy. He easily sensed he made her nervous. Jim gave her his best smile, then ended the conversation.
The girl had lots of work to do. There was a huge crowd in here tonight.
She wandered off to seat more people. A blond woman more than worthy of a second look and a tall, lanky cowboy were right after him. Jim studied the couple. He didn’t recognize them, but that wasn’t surprising. It really had been years since he’d been in Flo’s. The cowboy spoke with a slight Texas drawl. Not local, then.
Another man came in, a rancher by the looks of him.
Right there next to him was Joel Masterson—and Clint Gunderson.
His eyes met Jim’s. Jim nodded once, trying to make himself look friendly, then looked down at the menu. Like it was coincidence they were there or something.
Jim finally looked up when another woman stopped by his table. The women in Flo’s were damned hot. He’d be coming in more often.
After all of this ended.
“I’m Darcey,” she said in a warm, sexy voice that sounded familiar. “How are you today?”
“I…I…” Jim stuttered, looking at the blonde. “Have we spoken before? You sound familiar.”
She laughed. “I’ve heard that before. I work for the radio station here in the county. I’m usually on for a few hours each day.”
“Darcey’s Daily?”
“That’s me. I work here of the evenings. My grandmother owns the place.”
“Your sister the hostess?”
“Cousin. I have a few others working tonight, too. It’s a family business.”
“I see.” Jim gave his order, trying not to stare. Another waitress went by, another blonde.
He jerked when she squealed. She placed her tray down on the table next to his and practically threw herself into another woman’s arms. The woman had just entered with a real stuffed shirt just behind her.
“Excuse me, that’s my cousin. She’s a bit excitable. We weren’t expecting her sister tonight.” There was surprise and happiness in Darcey’s tone. Jim got it.
The tall, pretty woman was another one of Flo Talley’s granddaughters.
Jim studied the newcomer quickly. It took him a moment, but he saw the credentials sticking out of her back pocket. Just the top of the folio. And there, on her left hip, rode a holster.
This…was the FBI.
The tall, skinny girl had grown up to be a real looker. Worth more than a second look.
And she was there to find out what had happened to Helen. She’d remember him, remember him being around back then. No doubt it was just a matter of time.
Suddenly, the idea of those onion rings weren’t sitting all that well, after all.
7
Travis was ready to get out of Masterson County again.
He still saw that skull in his dreams sometimes. Even nine weeks later.
He’d been back to Wyoming four times since the afternoon they’d discovered the body. They’d found a ranch that would work for their herd a few miles from the one where the poor woman had been buried. Phil’s nephew had agreed to run it for them—in exchange for the back half of the property, plus the house.
It would work out well for them in the long run.
And Travis wasn’t stepping foot back on the Beise property again.
Tonight, he’d been asked by the sheriff to meet him at the diner before he and Lacy headed back to Finley Creek in a few days.<
br />
After the hell he and Lacy had gone through back home when she’d nearly died, he was a little jumpy when it came to Lacy’s safety in general. Having Lacy anywhere near Wyoming had not been his first choice. But she’d insisted. She didn’t want to be separated from him all that much right now, any more than he did from her.
Since the massive storms that had hit their county back at the tail end of July, she’d been working longer shifts at the ER to help out. It was showing. His wife was exhausted.
Morning sickness wasn’t helping, either.
Lacy sat cuddled up to his side on the bench seat in the diner. Phil’s son-in-law—the sheriff—sat across from them, Phil at his side. The DCI agent sat in a chair pulled up to the end.
All eyes in the diner were on Clint Gunderson. And they weren’t necessarily friendly. Travis shifted his shoulder a bit more toward the other man as a sign of solidarity. Clint hadn’t struck him as a bad guy at all.
Travis felt for Clint. He hadn’t asked to be raised by a monster.
They were waiting. For the FBI. Travis shifted in his seat. They were going to give their statements to the FBI, then hopefully he’d get to take Lacy back to Phil’s and tuck her in. Hold her and forget that being in Masterson was bringing up memories of things neither one of them wanted to think about.
The door opened, and a couple stepped in. Clint tensed and shifted to watch. Travis followed her gaze.
The woman came straight to their table. A man trailed behind her.
The waitress nearby squealed and hurriedly set their food on the table, then turned to the woman who had just entered. Another waitress danced by.
Pretty girls, the lot of them. Pretty soon, there were seven women embracing amid excited chatter.
Clint stood. He stepped toward the new woman; arms open. She pulled back from the gaggle of waitresses and turned toward Clint. “Clint!”
“Come here, honey.”
There was real affection between the two. Travis had no doubt about that. Lacy leaned closer. Travis wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close.
Buried Secrets: PAVAD: FBI Case File #0005 (PAVAD: FBI Case Files) Page 3