Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1

by Lisa Phillips

Bolton’s eyes narrowed. “Hunting knife.”

  “Which is kind of funny when you think about it.” Except not. “Since weapons can’t be transported into town and there’s no contact with the outside world that isn’t monitored. So not only did a murder take place because of this knife. It also begs the question as to whether or not I’m now investigating a possible breach of Sanctuary security as well.”

  Two men strode out of the barn. One was Diego and both were dressed in what seemed to be the uniform around here—blue jeans and a western shirt with a cowboy hat and boots.

  Matthias backed up toward Pat. “We’re gonna go see the horses.”

  The three men crowded around John, so he dipped his chin to Diego and the other guy and then looked at Bolton. “Who in town has a knife like this?”

  Bolton mashed his lips together. “It’s actually mine. All the weapons in town are here on the ranch; three knives, a shotgun and two rifles. No one else—so far as I know and that’s pretty conclusive—has a weapon. When people come here to hunt, weapons are loaned. That knife—” He motioned to the picture with his index finger. “—was lost two months ago on a hunt.”

  “Faux hunting?”

  “I guess you could call it that, since they weren’t going to kill anything.”

  “They weren’t looking for deer?”

  Diego flinched. “Deer?”

  The guy beside him said, “Ain’t no deer in this town. They can’t get over the mountains.”

  John frowned. “I saw one last night.”

  Diego crossed himself.

  Bolton rocked back on his boot heels and rolled his eyes. “The locals think seeing a deer is a sign. An omen that you’re about to die right here in death valley.”

  “Good thing I don’t put much stock in omens.”

  Bolton’s lips twitched. “Yeah, good thing.”

  “Did Betty Collins see the deer?” He couldn’t keep the derision from his voice.

  “A week ago.” The guy beside Diego looked suddenly energized, his eyes wide. “That’s how long it takes.”

  Then John had better hurry up and solve this murder before he was offed too. He sighed. “Who went hunting with the knife?”

  “The mayor and his buddies.” Bolton worked his jaw back and forth. “It was a two day hunt. They were to hike the designated areas on the map we gave them, camp overnight and return in three days. They lost points for not collecting what was at each checkpoint and not coming back with everything they took, even the trash. They were trying to beat Hal’s team’s score from the week before.”

  “Seems like a lot of competitions go on around here, between this and Battle Night. Anything else I should know about?”

  Bolton’s eyebrow lifted and he shook his head. “They need to blow off steam, that’s all. Otherwise they’re cooped up. And when people get stir crazy it’s never pretty.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “I’m guessing you can’t.” Bolton gritted his teeth. “A lot of bad stuff went on here back in the day. People not wanting to co-exist with others not of their…kind. Sam had it rough for a while, and that is an understatement.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “Four years.” The rancher folded his arms, stretching the sleeves of his shirt in a way that made him look more like a wrestler than a rancher. “People have calmed down somewhat. Settled into the fact they’re going to be here for the rest of their lives most likely.”

  “Death valley,” the guy beside Diego muttered.

  Diego nodded, solemn.

  John wasn’t interested in local spook stories, legends and whatever else the residents had thought up to make their lives less mundane. “I have something else I need to talk with you about.”

  Bolton didn’t hesitate. He turned to the two guys. “Head on out, I’ll catch up.”

  “Sure boss.” They strode toward the barn where Pat and Matthias were at the fence to the corral, feeding one of the smaller horses.

  “Matthias will look out for him. He’s a good kid.”

  John turned back to him. “How old is Matthias?”

  “Twenty-six. The father—Olympia’s late husband—had family connections with a Venezuelan cartel, got in deep transporting smack. DEA busted him and he rolled over on the rest of the operation so the cartel came after his family.”

  “He was killed?”

  “No, he lived long enough to come here with them and continue to screw up their lives. He had a heart attack not long after but Matthias doesn’t talk about it. In fact, he won’t mention his father at all.”

  “Then how do you know all this?”

  Bolton shrugged one shoulder. “I know a lot of things.”

  “Which brings me to another interesting point. Why is your entire file nothing but your name and some basic physiological details?”

  “If you knew what was supposed to be in it, you’d know the answer to that.”

  “That doesn’t really help.”

  Bolton grinned. “Don’t suppose it does. But until your brother replies to my email and I’m certain you have the appropriate security clearance, I can’t tell you squat.”

  “Did Sheriff Chandler know?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do I need to know?”

  “Debatable. But I’ll read you in if you’re cleared.”

  “Good enough.” John figured it had something to do with a federal agency. The guy looked sort of familiar, and he had that manner other agencies had. The fact it was four years ago might narrow it down. He’d have to call his brother or do a computer search when he got back to the office. There couldn’t be that many guys named Bolton in law enforcement, even with the different last name. The NSA might monitor usage from the library but John had a longer leash. With a guy like Bolton it just wasn’t worth flying blind, or waiting for Grant to decide.

  Matthias and Pat walked over. John had one more question for Bolton. “Anything else I should know?”

  The big man shrugged. “Just if you need anything you can call. I’ve got weapons I know how to use and sometimes extra backup doesn’t hurt, especially when you’re going up against a whole town.”

  Bolton strode away, leaving the echo of his words ringing in John’s ears. He was going to face the whole town? Maybe the majority, if they persisted in telling him he should arrest Andra. But he hoped not.

  Pat ran at him and John braced. “Dad, that was awesome!”

  “I’m glad.” He looked at Matthias. “Thanks for showing him around.”

  “We’ll have to get both of you out for a ride next time.”

  John swallowed. “Uh…”

  “Yeah, Dad!”

  “Sure.” But it didn’t sound convincing, even to his ears.

  John led his son to the Jeep and they drove back to town. “So you liked the horses?”

  “Did you see them? They’re awesome.”

  “So you said.” John smiled. “You like it here? School, the town, the people all that?”

  Pat’s light dimmed. “Yeah, I like it.”

  “But what?”

  He looked out the passenger window.

  “Do you miss your mom?”

  Pat didn’t say anything.

  “I can call her if you want. See what’s happening.”

  Pat shrugged.

  John studied his son. How was he supposed to know what was up with Pat? At his age, John had been all about baseball. His parents had been happily married. His brothers had beaten up on him relentlessly but they’d never ever let anyone else give him a hard time. He was navigating this without a map.

  John puffed out his cheeks and let the breath go without any noise. Pat probably didn’t want to seem ungrateful for getting to spend time with his dad. What was with kids? One minute they were wide-eyed and innocent and then a teenager with an attitude emerged. The boy was eight for crying out loud.

  “It’s okay if you miss your mom. I’m not going to get upset or mad.”

  Pat kept stari
ng out the window.

  “I was gone for a long time. It might take us a while to get into a rhythm of you and me and how this is gonna work. But I’m willing to put the time in if you are.” He parked behind the office. “What do you say, Pat?”

  When he turned from the window there was a sheen of tears in Pat’s eyes. “She hasn’t even emailed me back.”

  John took hold of the side of Pat’s head where his neck met his shoulder. “That’s her loss. If she can’t see it then I feel sorry for her.” What was the point sugar coating the fact if she cared, she would’ve kept him?

  “You were gone, too.”

  “I was and I missed you every single day. I’m hoping I can make up for that by being here now. I’m going to be busy with this case but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about you, trying to figure out ways we can hang out. Okay?”

  Pat sniffed and finally, he nodded. “Can I ride my bike?”

  “So long as you stay close to Main Street. No exploring.” Pat nodded again. “Do you need money for a cupcake or something?”

  Pat’s face brightened. “No, Frannie doesn’t take money. I can charge it to your account and then she’ll settle up with you later.”

  “Okay then.”

  Old west order of things in yet another aspect. John wondered what these people would do with smart phones and YouTube. Hal would probably have a heart attack if he heard what passed for music now. “Have fun, I’ll see you at dinner.”

  Pat tumbled out of the Jeep and two minutes later he pedaled down the alley between the sheriff’s office and the laundry next door. The other side was a vacant storefront. John would have to find out if anyone lived in the apartment above. Maybe he could buy it, knock down the wall between and renovate his entire living space. It wouldn’t be long before either he or Pat chafed at each not having their own space. But that smacked of long-term, which had never been John’s strength. He’d have to decide whether they were going to stay here first.

  John dialed Ellen’s number from the sat phone and it rang through to voicemail. “Ellen, its John. Call me. Better yet, email your son.”

  He hung up. It was nicer than a lot of messages she’d left him over the years. Like evidently attracted like, since they both sucked at this parenting thing. Why did some people seem like they knew what they were doing? As if it was easy.

  The office was quiet, which suited his frame of mind. He’d never had to worry about being personable on assignment. Criminals weren’t overly accustomed to people being polite to them. They seemed to notice common courtesy faster than just about any other sign you might not be one of them.

  John unlocked the file cabinet and pulled open the drawer to get Andra’s file. That was one mystery he could solve quick enough. Then he’d be able to get everyone off her back and narrow down his suspect list…by one town resident.

  He flipped through the paper files but it wasn’t there.

  Andra’s file was gone.

  Chapter 15

  “Palmer, get back here now.”

  John tossed the radio on the desk and winced at the sound it made when it hit the wood surface. He didn’t want the thousands it would cost to replace the thing deducted from his paycheck.

  He checked the front door but it was locked. The windows were shut and there was no sign of forced entry. He’d used his key to come in the back. Who had taken Andra’s file?

  The door swung open and Palmer sauntered in with a smear on the front of his shirt that looked like mustard. “What is going on? I half expected the place to be on fire. It doesn’t look like a disaster happened in the middle of my pastrami sandwich.”

  “I’m glad you had time for dinner.” John held his body taut to save from pummeling the belligerence out of his deputy. “Andra Caleri’s file is missing.”

  Palmer glanced at the cabinet, his orange brows crinkling together. “From your files?”

  “Yes, Palmer. Missing from my files. It was there when I looked yesterday. And now it’s gone.”

  “And you didn’t take it with you?”

  John didn’t answer.

  “Or leave it out?”

  Seriously? These were sensitive documents.

  “You’re the only one with a key.”

  John motioned to the set attached to his belt. “They’ve been on my person the whole time. No one took the key, which means someone broke in here and stole the file. The question is, who?”

  “And why.”

  John jerked his head in a shake. “I know why.”

  “Because she killed Betty Collins?”

  “We don’t know that for sure, Palmer. The evidence doesn’t confirm it or rule it out at this point.”

  “But it’s been three days. How come you haven’t figured it out yet? They do it in like forty-five minutes on CSI.”

  “This isn’t television.” John examined the lock on the file cabinet. “This lock wasn’t broken or picked, which means someone used a key. And if it wasn’t mine then there’s another key floating around that opens this file cabinet. You know anything about a spare key, Palmer?”

  He gasped. A little too astounded. “No. Of course not.”

  “Who in town wants Andra’s secrets revealed?”

  The deputy removed his hat and scratched his head, like this was a surprise algebra quiz. “Whoever is trying to blame her for Betty’s death?”

  “Good. Now we just have to figure out who that is.” John locked the back door. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” Palmer trotted behind him out the front door.

  “To hang around and see who knows what Andra never told anyone. Whoever took the file will spread it around. But if we can catch the rumor fast enough we might have a chance of finding out where it started.”

  John would have to address his deputy’s attitude and belligerence later.

  Across Main Street a crowd had already gathered outside the Meeting House. From both ends of the street people were walking toward the building and not one of them looked happy. In fact, their faces were set to angry.

  Not good.

  “Excuse me.” John pushed between two men. “Let us past.”

  The interior of the Meeting House had been recently redecorated. White pages of printed text and photo after photo were pinned on the walls around the room.

  “She did it.”

  “For sure, it had to have been her.”

  “Look at this.”

  “Did you see that one?”

  John turned in a circle. The pages covered all four walls, even the windows. Olympia pushed in the front door with Andra behind her. Andra’s face was flushed like she’d sprinted all the way from her cabin. She gasped and did the same as him, turning in a circle for a three-hundred-sixty degree view of her history splashed around the room.

  Groups of people gathered to read the pages, while others turned to stare at her. Palmer walked to the wall behind John, scanning as he moved along. Page after page.

  Andra ran to a collection of photos and started ripping them down. The glossy prints floated to the floor.

  “You can’t do that,” someone yelled. “We have a right to know!”

  Olympia strode over to the white-haired lady—one of the sisters who’d been in the sheriff’s office yesterday—and set her hands on her hips. “No one had the right to do this. You are all invading Andra’s privacy. How would you like it if your past was splashed all over, in full view of everyone?”

  “I’ve never done anything like this.” The lady pointed her knobby finger to the wall. “Or that.” She swung her arm aside, nearly smacking the lady beside her. “I want her gone from here. She murdered Betty.”

  Andra tore down sheets of paper almost in a frenzy. Could she even hear what they were saying? John hoped she wasn’t listening. He needed to get her out of here before this got more out of hand.

  Terrence, who John had met in the dinner line Friday night, sprinted across the room. He pulled Andra’s arm back and John winced.

&nbs
p; She whirled around. “Don’t touch me!”

  Terrence got right in her face. “You leave that up, murderer. Then everyone will know what kind of filth you are. We won’t have to put up with someone like you in our town anymore.”

  Andra slapped him.

  Terrence swung around and his gaze found John. “Did you see what she did? She just assaulted me. Arrest her. Arrest her for Betty’s murder. She killed a sweet, innocent woman and now she’s attacking me!”

  “Terrence—” John moved to shut this down.

  “Which one of us is she going to kill next?” Terrence’s face was red.

  “Take a breath, man. Okay?” John raised his voice. “Let’s all calm down and take a minute. Palmer, start taking this stuff down. Whoever did this needs to come forward. Your files are confidential and I want to know who put this up.”

  “She killed Betty!”

  “We know she did it!”

  John stuck his hands on his hips. “That remains to be seen.”

  “We know she did it. Of course she did,” an old lady in a leather jacket said. “She was an assassin. She killed Betty and she’s going to kill us too.”

  John whipped his head around to Andra but she’d already turned away.

  An assassin?

  She pulled pages off the wall, apparently not satisfied with the snail-pace job Palmer was doing.

  Terrence grabbed her arm again. Andra used the momentum of his pull to turn and kick his knee out from under him. Terrence landed flat on his back with a thump, choking from the wind being knocked out of him. Another guy ran at her and John moved, pushing aside two old men while Andra wrestled with the guy trying to take papers from her.

  John wrapped his arms around the guy’s torso, lifted him and set him away from her. “Enough!”

  Andra’s eyes sparked, her breath coming fast and heavy. Her gaze flicked to the man behind John. Both of them moved toward each other. John got between them again, shoving the guy back. Andra grappled with his arm.

  “Calm down.”

  She struggled, sucking in air like she was trying to breathe. Or trying not to explode.

  “Andra, calm down.”

  She kicked his leg. John took hold of both of her wrists and held them by her sides. Her body bucked.