“Angry guy near Shadow Canyon?” Gemma quirked her mouth in thought as she sliced up the chicken and divided the lettuce onto two plates. “I wonder. Could she have meant Duff Northcutt? He was practically a recluse even back when I lived here. Northcutt lives up there like a hermit and he’s certainly anti-social enough, but I don’t see him killing women.”
“Collette didn’t mention a name, but she told mom that he lived in a ramshackle cabin and was very protective of his property.”
“That sounds like Northcutt. Maybe I should go out there and talk to him face to face.”
“Why not let the police chief do it? Or am I sensing some kind of bad history between the two of you?”
“Lando happens to be my ex. Then there’s the fact that I walked out on him without a word just after I turned nineteen. He was livid and hurt and…well you get the picture. Makes for lingering resentment on his part for sure.” She didn’t mention that they’d slept together the night before, but then she didn’t have to. She caught Lianne staring at her.
“How is it you’re the one who broke the news to me today?” Lianne mused. “Why wasn’t it the hunky cop?”
“Okay, so maybe we were together this morning when Lando got the call, and later…after he confirmed it was Collette, I volunteered to be the one to tell you.”
For the first time since entering the house, Lianne smiled knowingly. “So it’s hard to quit Lando Bonner, is it? He is a complete package. If you like the smoldering good looks sort with a little on the brooding side thrown in.”
“Yeah, but he also comes with a lot of attitude.” Gemma leaned in as if to share a secret. “He’s part of a set. The Bonner kids are triplets---Lando, Luke, and Leia.”
Lianne snorted a laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding. Who was the Star Wars’ fan? Mom or Dad?”
“Their mother. Leia’s the kid sister, and then the trifecta is complete with the lookalike brother Luke. The doctor.” Gemma wiggled her eyebrows up and down. “See? More incentive to stay put. I could introduce you to Luke. He’s unattached since finishing his residency. No one here could believe he decided to give up a high-paying job in the city to come back to help his people on the reservation.”
“This Luke sounds as altruistic as his brother. While it’s a nice offer, right now I need to find the best way to mount a defense against my parents, who want to drag me back to Portland. They’ve already started the campaign. I know they worry about who could’ve done this to Collette. Their suspicions run the gamut. The killer could be anyone in town she trusted---a neighbor, her boss, the guy at the gas station. Someone wrote that threatening note and left it where Collette could find it. But I’m a grown woman perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Plus, I don’t intend to leave town until I find out who killed my sister.”
Gemma turned from the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “I hate to point this out, but I’m sure Collette felt like she could handle whatever problem was bothering her and it might’ve gotten her killed. It didn’t work out the way she wanted. I intend to figure out why and what happened.”
“But it’s not your problem.”
“Maybe not, but this is my town, too. I won’t stand around and let a killer walk free among us. Want iced tea or a Coke to go with this? I do have wine if you feel like you need a soothing reprieve from all this talk about murder.”
“I’ll pass on the wine for now, at least until my parents get here. Then I’m sure we’ll sit around in our sadness and imbibe to relieve the pain. We still have days to wait for the coroner to give us the cause of death and then release the body. So, for now I’ll take a soda and…wait. Here, let me help fill the glasses with ice,” Lianne offered.
Gemma took the plates over to the table and drizzled the dressing onto the salad. “I’ll check out old man Northcutt tomorrow. Maybe he’s changed since I last spoke to him. Who knows? It’s hard for me to think he’s capable of murder though. But I suppose people change. You never know.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“Let’s eat and figure it out.”
After the two settled around the table, Gemma picked up her fork. “I should probably go alone in case he freaks out. Seeing both of us might spook him. But then, if he does get violent, it’ll just be me out there by myself facing down a scary old guy. Maybe I’ll take Rufus with me as backup.”
“What does Lando say about you sticking your nose into his case?”
“Nothing, because I’m not telling him and neither will you. The less he knows the better.”
That proved slightly more difficult when Lando texted her about dropping by later. It surprised her, especially after the way they’d parted at lunch. If she said yes to spending another night with him, could she keep her trap shut about going to see Northcutt on Monday? That was the tricky part. She’d always had a problem around Lando keeping things to herself. Until of course she’d left him without a word. At the time, it had seemed like the cleanest way to make the break---hurting him in the process.
But now, after weighing all her options, another night of sex won out. And why shouldn’t it? She’d been in a dry spell for too long. Why not seek comfort from the only person she had ever truly loved?
Picking up her phone, she texted back. When do you think you’ll get here?
Seconds later, he answered. I need to stay until the techs finish up because it looks like rain. Would nine o’clock be too late? I’ll bring dinner.
She didn’t have the heart to tell him she’d already eaten with Lianne so she keyed in, Sure, see you then.
She’d no sooner sent the text than an idea occurred to her. What if she went now to see Mr. Northcutt? After all, if she’d already talked to the old guy she could relax and think about other more interesting aspects of Lando spending the night.
That’s what she’d do. She’d drive out and talk to Duff Northcutt now, if only for the peace of mind it would bring knowing that the old guy she remembered hadn’t killed anyone.
16
The sun dipped behind the top of Fire Mountain as Gemma pulled up in Northcutt’s front yard, a jumble of rusted out car parts and a collection of old metal works. There was even a wagon left over from long-ago hayrides and an assortment of old wooden barrels used to store whiskey.
In a patch of dirt, front and center, a thriving row of beans, squash, and okra grew in abundance. It looked as though Duff still liked to grow his own supper.
Gemma noted that his cabin looked more like a barn with its bare wood and no paint on the outside. The oversized front door rested on rusted hinges. There was a huge window over the door that she was sure used to belong to the hayloft.
She stepped out of the Volvo with Rufus in tow and waited for Duff Northcutt to make an appearance. She didn’t have to wait long for the door to squeak open and Duff to step outside clutching his twelve-gauge.
“Hey there, Mr. Northcutt. Remember me? I’m Marissa Sarrazin’s granddaughter, Gemma. Last time I saw you was when we spoke briefly at her funeral. How are you doing today?”
Just as she hoped, Duff lowered the shotgun. “Sad day when Marissa died. What are you doin’ all the way out here on a Sunday evening?”
“Rufus and I brought you some of my chocolate to try. You know I’m still practicing getting Gram’s recipes right, having trouble with the taste.” She dangled the bag of candy between her fingers. “Just my way of thanking you for coming to the funeral.”
“No thanks needed. Marissa was quite a woman. Come on in, then. No need to let a bunch of flies in the door. Got enough of those buggers already,” Duff groused, holding open the heavy door for her to enter. “Want coffee? I make it strong though, only way to drink it or why bother. It’ll wash that sweet candy taste right out of your mouth.”
“That’d be fine. Remember when you took me on that hayride when I was little? I couldn’t have been more than five. I see you still have the same wagon sitting out front.”
“I do. But kids nowadays don’t
seem to appreciate a good ride around a farm, ’cept during Halloween and then they expect to see haunted, scary stuff. Last time I bothered with that nonsense was ten years back.” He motioned for her to take a seat at a small table in the corner of his kitchen.
She watched as Duff shuffled over to make coffee the old-fashioned way---letting water boil and then dumping two scoops of ground up beans into the steaming water to brew. The aroma was intoxicating as he strained the concoction into two cups.
After he’d joined her at the table, she opened the bag of chocolate, picking out several of the fruit-filled cherry flavors. “Try these. If I remember correctly they were always your favorite.”
Duff’s eyes landed on the treat. “I haven’t had these in ages. Thank you. How in the world did you remember I liked these best of all?”
“My grandmother kept a list in the drawer next to the cash register. She called it her cheat sheet. Every time a customer mentioned their favorite, she’d write it down.” The satisfaction on his face told her everything she needed to know. “I take it I did good on this batch?”
“You sure did,” he said, licking the gooey crème filling from his fingers. “Now you want to level with me, missy, and tell me the real reason you came out here on a Sunday evening?”
She gave him her best smile. “It’s like this, Duff. Collette Whittaker disappeared last March on a Saturday night, not far from here. Before that, her mother insists that she had a run-in with a man near where she stables her horse. You’re the closest person to Zeb’s stables that I could think of where she might’ve inadvertently trespassed.”
“’Tweren’t me. That was Billy Gafford, lives down the road a piece.”
“I don’t recognize that name.”
“Moved here from Los Angeles about four years ago. Younger guy, keeps to himself, wears camouflage wherever he goes like one of those militia outfits you see on TV.”
“How far down the road?”
Duff narrowed his eyes into slits. “Don’t even think about confronting him. He’s what they call a loose cannon, somebody who acts like he’s hoarding a secret. And he wants to keep it that way.”
She leaned over and put her hand on Duff’s. “I take it that shotgun you carry is supposed to act as a deterrent against people like Gafford hassling you. Has he threatened you before?”
“He’s a bully, likes to push around women, kids, and old people. Not that I’m old…”
“Of course not,” Gemma added with a grin. “But you are vulnerable out here alone. Collette and Marnie were, too. Someone did something to them and I need to find out who’s responsible before they do it again.”
Duff reached behind him and pulled out a handgun from his kitchen hutch, one with a well-worn metal barrel and grip. “If you’re intent on sticking your nose into dangerous stuff, this is a Smith & Wesson, a .35 caliber that’ll fit right in your hand. Take it. You might need it to protect yourself from Gafford.”
Gemma stared at the weapon, reality creeping in. “I…I…I don’t think I could. I wouldn’t feel comfortable with handling a gun. I don’t even know how to shoot one.”
“You’re so much like your grandmother it’s like sitting here with her one more time, like old times, like all the times she used to come by and check on me.”
“You aren’t the first person who’s told me things like that. Did Gram carry a gun?”
“No. but then she often showed a lot of savvy…and courage…in dealing with all kinds of people, especially bullies like Billy Gafford. She could put them in their place. If you know what I mean.”
“Hmm. Gram had almost seventy years to refine that tact. Me? I’m still learning. What kind of vehicle does this Billy Gafford drive?”
“A blue pickup.”
“You’re sure he doesn’t have another car, like say, a four-door sedan stored somewhere on his property?”
“Nope. Nothing like that. He’s a pickup truck kind of guy. And he has a no trespassing sign stuck in the ground by his driveway. He doesn’t want strangers lurking around, gets edgy when they do.”
“Have you ever seen anyone driving up and down the backroads recently that stuck out, like someone who didn’t belong out here?”
“You mean like a stranger?” Duff scratched his scruffy chin. “Not that I can remember. We get a few tourists who wander this far out of town but they don’t usually stay in the countryside too long. They get bored with the fresh air and hightail it back to the beach. Not saying there’s people who don’t come out here at night looking for mischief.”
“You’re not that far from the beach,” Gemma pointed out. “It’s easy to smell the sea salt once you get past all the manure.”
“Don’t matter much to me. I prefer the manure. Do you know how many times people have approached me to sell this place?”
“I imagine quite a few. You do have a great location out here, the best of both worlds. As much room as you need to expand and still not be that far from town.”
“Marissa told me not to make a deal with any developers. And so far, I haven’t. That’s not to say what’ll happen to this old place after I’m dead and gone.”
“Don’t talk like that.”
“It’s a fact. I’m getting’ on up there in years.”
“At least, I’m glad you listened to Gram. Keep following her advice. She knew a thing or two about what was best…for a lot of people. Look, it’s been great catching up, but I’ve got to go. Don’t make yourself a stranger. Stop by the shop once a week and I’ll make sure I have chocolate covered cherries on hand just for you.”
“It’s a deal.”
She leaned over and placed a kiss on that scruffy face. “It’s okay to miss her, but we’ll always have her inside each of us. Remember that.”
After she and Rufus left Duff’s place, Gemma decided to check out Billy Gafford for herself, at least do a drive-by. Since his land was less than a half mile around the bend in the roadway, and since she was in the neighborhood anyway, she might as well get a look at the guy.
Billy Gafford’s house was a newly built clapboard cabin that sat close to the road. Gemma spotted a man standing at the back of a pickup shoving boxes into the bed of a truck. A big man in size, something that worked to a bully’s advantage, Gemma mused. She had to assume this stoutly-built guy was Gafford. His massive six-six height went with his two-eighty weight. Billy looked like a former wrestler or maybe a linebacker for the Oakland Raiders. The constipated look on his face told her there was a determined effort to keep people at arm’s length, even if it meant a combative attitude. It scared her just a little.
But the questions needed to be asked. She rolled down the passenger-side window on the Volvo, much to the dog’s distress. When Rufus started to bark, kicking up a fuss, she quieted him with a dog biscuit. “Shh. Now is not the time to irritate that huge man over there. Got it? I need to get his attention and at least have a conversation.”
It didn’t take long. Once the big man locked eyes on the car, he lumbered over, giving Gemma the opening she needed. “Are you Mr. Gafford?”
“Yeah. What’s it to you?”
Despite his brusque manner, Gemma was determined to not waste the opportunity. “I was wondering if you have access to any other vehicles besides your truck there. Nice pickup, by the way.”
“What the Sam Hill do you care what I drive? You a cop or something?”
That ton of negative energy spooling off Mr. Gafford made her come up with a lie. “No, nothing like that. I’m looking to purchase a sedan and someone in town told me you had one for sale.”
“Dumb asses. That’s all that’s in this town. They were wrong. I just have my truck and I need it for work. I’m a construction worker, which means I need more room than a stupid sedan would offer. Now git. Be on your way.”
But Gemma was stubborn. “Do you know of anyone who might drive a sedan and want to sell it? I’m really partial to blue. Any car like that around these parts?”
Billy’s
patience proved short-lived. “What a stupid question? No. What’s wrong with your foreign job here? Finally get tired of driving something the Swedes made?”
“Actually this is an older model that Ford made right here in the good old USA. No, I like my Volvo just fine, but I was thinking if your neighbors had a good deal on a sedan…I could use it for deliveries…”
“I don’t know anything about my neighbors,” Billy snapped. “I try to stay out of their business and expect them to stay out of mine! We’re done chatting. Now move along.”
This time, Gemma decided she’d gotten all she could get out of the guy.
“Thanks for your time,” she grunted, waving a hand toward the giant of a man as he retreated back to his truck. She jerked the gearshift out of park and gunned the engine on the Volvo.
One glance at the clock on the dash told her she had exactly fifteen minutes to make it home before Lando showed up with supper. She stepped on the gas to make sure she beat him there. It wouldn’t do if Lando found out she’d been snooping into his investigation.
She tried to avoid the subject while eating from the takeout he’d brought---a plate of pot roast and veggies cooked to perfection by Leia.
“Your sister has a knack for making meat taste heavenly,” Gemma said as she broke off another portion of the tender beef with her fork. She looked over at Lando who was devouring his food at a rapid rate. “Poor baby, I guess the burger from lunch wore off hours ago.”
Lando nodded. “It did. I’ve been waiting to get off my feet and have a decent meal. And sitting across from you just happens to be the added bonus I needed to get my second wind.” He stared at her plate and all the food still piled there. “Are you gonna eat the rest of that?”
She’d barely touched the baby carrots and potatoes and still had a generous helping of the pot roast left. Shoving her plate toward him, she smiled. “Help yourself.”
Their eyes met in mutual invitation.
He reached his hand out to hers, locked their fingers together. “I’ve been waiting a long time to hear you say that.”
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