by Linda Conrad
It was late afternoon and the sun hung low behind a spring haze as they drove through town. Lacie had been surprised to see a shotgun hanging in the rack behind Colt’s front seat when he picked her up. But she hadn’t made mention of it, hoping he would talk about it first. No such luck. So she kept her mouth closed on the subject and answered his question.
“You do remember her. She was the middle school teacher for forty years.”
“That Mrs. Murphy? She’s not teaching anymore? I always figured the principal would have to pry the chalk out of her cold dead hands.”
Lacie couldn’t stop the smile but she tsked at him. “Colt, really. She retired about five years ago. Lives in the same house as always, on a little pension and her social security. She knows everyone in town. Taught most of them. And she knows nearly everybody’s business, too. I think she’ll be a good place to start.”
“She has to be well over eighty. She knows we’re coming?”
“I called her. She was surprised but willing to talk to us.” Lacie figured the old lady would probably talk their ears off. The problem would be keeping her on track.
By the time they pulled up in Mrs. Murphy’s front yard, a deep madras-blue sky was greeting both the North Star and the first tip of a waning moon. The older woman must have heard their approach because she came out on her porch to wait for them to climb from the pickup.
“Good evening, Mrs. Murphy.” Colt tipped his hat as she led them through her front door. “It’s been a long time.”
“Colt, isn’t it? You look just like your father did at your age. Jacob Chance was one fine-looking man.”
They all sat down in her tiny front room. Colt looked uncomfortable perched on an antique straight-backed chair with his hat in his hands. But he’d plastered a grin on his face and never let on that he was anything but glad to be sitting right where was.
“May I offer you two a glass of sweet tea? I just made chocolate chip cookies.”
“No, thank you, ma’am. We’re fine. We just thought you might remember some things from years back in Chance history and hoped you’d be able to help us.”
“My memory is fine, young man. Sharp as ever.” She straightened her skirt along with her slightly stooped shoulders. “I know, for instance, that you were in a big ruckus in California and came home all banged up.”
Mrs. Murphy rolled her eyes and stared over the top of her glasses. “What is it that’s so danged important to you now about the past?”
Lacie rushed to start the conversation, hoping Colt would not say anything to stir Mrs. Murphy’s curiosity. “Since Colt has come home temporarily, we’ve been reminiscing about our childhoods. You know how that goes. We both remember things differently and we were hoping you could straighten us out.”
Mrs. Murphy glanced over to Colt and frowned, but then returned an interested gaze toward Lacie. “Certainly. What do you need to know, dear?”
“It’s about that time right before and after Colt’s mother was murdered.”
“I remember those days very well. It would be hard to forget something like that.”
“Um…” Lacie wasn’t sure how to ask. “Colt’s aunt June said rumors were flying then, but she didn’t remember any in particular because she lived in Boston at the time. We were hoping you might tell us what you remember.”
Mrs. Murphy’s watery eyes darted to Colt. “Are you looking into who else might’ve killed your mother? I remember you never believed Jacob could’ve done the deed.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Colt sat a little straighter. “I still don’t believe it. But Lacie and I were too young to…”
“You might not want to hear what I have to say, Colt Chance. Some of the goings-on back then were…not for innocent ears.”
Lacie leaned over and touched her hand. “We’re not young anymore, Mrs. Murphy. And not particularly innocent either. Please tell us what you remember.”
The old woman huffed out a breath. “Very well. I remember the year before the murder like it was yesterday. All the students I’d taught during my first year in Chance had grown up and had children of their own. Your mom and dad, Colt, were two of those that had produced several new students for my classes. I saw them frequently that year.”
Her watery eyes glazed over slightly as she seemed to be lost in the past. “The two of them always looked like they were so happy. But rumors told a different story. Some of the more nasty whisperings painted Jacob out to be a real ladies’ man. With secret girlfriends in at least two counties. It was hard to believe when I saw your parents together. But the rumors wouldn’t stop.”
Colt cleared his throat. “Is it possible those rumors had anything to do with the murder?”
“After the murder,” Mrs. Murphy began instead of replying directly to his question, “the rumors got worse. The one I heard most often was that your mother had finally confronted Jacob about his infidelities and a fight ensued. Jacob killed her out of anger.”
Lacie was afraid for Colt’s sake to ask another question, but thought she’d better do it while the old woman was delving into the past. “Were there any other rumors flying after the murder that you might remember?”
Mrs. Murphy’s expression changed as her eyes moved between Lacie and Colt. “One that was even worse. I refused to listen to it.”
“But you do remember and can tell us?” Lacie knew the old woman had probably committed the offending rumor to memory years ago.
“Yes. I vaguely remember.” Mrs. Murphy looked uncomfortable but went right on talking. “That was the rumor about Colt’s mother having learned of her husband’s affairs and deciding to get even by having an affair of her own. Then supposedly the afternoon of the murder, Jacob must’ve learned about her cheating on him and killed her in a jealous rage.”
Colt’s mouth dropped open. “No way.”
“I didn’t say I believed any of the lies people told. But you asked me to tell what I remembered. Back in those days rumors of affairs and adultery were rampant in Chance County. I was glad to be a widow and well out of it.”
Lacie popped up from her chair. It was time to get Colt away from here.
“Well, thanks for thinking back to those days.” She dragged at Colt’s arm and he rose to stand beside her. “And thank you so much for spending an hour with us. We really appreciate it.”
Colt’s expression was dark, brooding. He hadn’t said a word as she pulled him toward the old lady’s front door.
None of these rumors might be true. Or the truth might lie somewhere in between. But if Colt couldn’t stand to hear rumors, how would he ever be able to continue their investigation?
That question made Lacie’s stomach hurt. If he stopped the investigation, he would probably leave town at the first opportunity. And losing her second chance might be much worse than anything else she’d gone through.
No, she had to think of a way to keep their investigation going, to keep him in town. Her head might disagree but it was what her heart wanted most.
Chapter 6
Colt sat in the pickup still parked in Mrs. Murphy’s front yard, idling the truck in Neutral, waiting for Lacie. The old lady had stopped them at the door and insisted on making up a package of cookies to send home. Lacie ordered him out here to the truck to wait.
Good thing. He hadn’t been all that wild about visiting their former teacher in the first place. She reminded him of his middle school years. And that put him in mind of a trio of bullies who’d tormented him and Lacie from dawn till dusk back in those days.
His first memory of the three was when he’d decked the tallest for picking on Lacie. His first time in trouble with the teachers. But she’d been the new kid and her mom hadn’t yet married the sheriff. The things those boys had called her had made him mad because they were hurtful. And his mother had backed him up, as he recalled.
Then later, after his mother was gone, the three bullies had come after him.
Colt Chance—stay away from him, went one chant. His m
other’s dead and his old man’s doing time for the deed. Apples don’t fall too far from the tree.
He would never forget how much their words had hurt. But he’d been so lost without his mother, he let it go. Turned his back and went off with Lacie. In retrospect, those bullies’ lives had not gone well and he could only feel sorry for them. One kid spent a tour in Iraq and was killed by an IED. Another went off to the rodeo and within months was gored by a bull, effectively ending his career for good before it ever got off the ground. The third, who became a traveling preacher, ended up in jail for molesting a couple of underage members of his flock. Have mercy.
No, Colt would rather not have faced any of these memories at all. And he would certainly rather have skipped Mrs. Murphy’s ridiculous rumors. His parents couldn’t have been like that. It was stupid to think any part of those stories was true.
He glanced up just as Lacie came down the front steps, carrying an aluminum-foil-wrapped plate. Reaching over, he opened the passenger-side door for her.
“Thanks.” Lacie leaned in and handed him the plate. “Take this while I get settled.”
“I don’t even like chocolate chip,” he grumbled.
Lacie glared at him as she fastened her seat belt. “You do not want to make an enemy of that old lady. And baking is one of her only hobbies. I’ll put them in my fridge. They should last awhile.”
When she was done, he shoved the plate back into her lap. “Where to now?”
“Hold on a sec. Mrs. Murphy told me a couple of other things while I was in her kitchen. Let’s sit here so we can talk.”
He took his foot back off the gas, and shifted his body under the belt so he was facing her. “Not sure I want to hear anything else that old bat had to say.”
“You do want to continue this investigation, don’t you?” For some reason she seemed to be holding her breath.
“Yeah, sure.”
Lacie’s expression cleared as though his agreement had meant something special. Interesting. But he would have to dig into that little puzzle later. One mystery at a time.
“We can’t just dismiss Mrs. Murphy’s rumors out of hand.”
He started to put up an argument but Lacie held her palm out and continued. “I’m not saying they were a hundred percent true. But if everyone at the time believed them, it’s possible that someone else, someone not directly connected to the family, decided to put a stop to the infidelity in their midst.”
“So a rumor could be the reason my mother was murdered?” He wasn’t sure he could stand knowing that in the end.
“It’s happened before. I heard of a case just like that when I was on the force in Houston.”
After slowly shaking his head, he leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and sighed. “How will we ever find the person responsible for that? Everyone in the whole town at the time could’ve been a suspect.”
“We need more information. We should talk to more people who were here then. Mrs. Murphy gave me the names of three people, besides my parents, who she thought were good friends with your parents.” Lacie turned to look out the windshield. “We can talk to two of the three. Maybe still tonight.”
“Why not talk to all three?”
“Because one of them is Robert Lopez, another deputy sheriff in Chance County. He and my stepfather are tight. And have been, I understand, for at least eighteen years.”
“From the days right after my father went to prison? That does seem like a huge coincidence. Okay, not Lopez. At least, not yet. Who are the other two?”
Lacie turned back to him with a wry smile. “Macy James and Barrett Johnson.”
“Your landlady and the foreman of the Bar-C? Wow.”
“Yeah, wow is right. This is Macy’s night off from the café she owns so she’s probably at home. We can probably go see her right away. But why don’t you call Barrett first and ask to set up a good time for us to talk to him?”
He pulled out the SAT phone Travis had given him when he’d first come home due to cell coverage being spotty on the ranch. It only took two buttons to reach Barrett.
The foreman agreed to meet the next morning near Sam’s place on the Bar-C, where Barrett had been spending time getting ready for the spring cattle roundup. Before the other man hung up, he took a moment to warn Colt again about the danger of illegal activity on the outskirts of the ranch.
After Colt disconnected, he had to wait for Lacie to finish her own phone conversation with her landlady.
“Macy’s at home,” Lacie said when she hung up. “Her hubby is manning the café tonight along with a couple of their waitresses. What did Barrett say?”
“He’ll meet us in the morning near Sam’s place on the Bar-C.”
“Good. Tomorrow’s my day off. Drive me home now and we’ll see Macy.”
Colt put the truck in gear and eased his foot off the brake. “Barrett mentioned something else that I think we should talk about.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Travis came to see me this morning and mentioned the same thing. Seems they’ve heard rumors about gangs of gunrunners coming through Chance County. Said they’d even spotted evidence of them on Bar-C land.”
“Gunrunners? You mean criminal cartels trying to smuggle assault weapons into Mexico? That’s odd. The sheriff’s department hasn’t been notified of any rumors like that. And you’d think we would be.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “That’s something the sheriff should know. You’re careful on patrol at night, right?”
“Always.” She grinned at him, then asked, “Is that why you’re suddenly carrying a shotgun in your pickup?”
“You noticed.”
She nodded but said nothing more.
He kept silent, too, wondering if her quiet meant anything. This new change of events, danger in Chance County, made him all the more determined to keep her close.
As he listened to the pickup’s tires noisily rolling over cracked asphalt as they drove through the neighborhood streets on the way to her place, he made a promise to himself. He would find a way to stay by her side until the danger was gone.
No matter what she wanted.
*
Lacie slid to the ground, still carrying the cookie plate, the minute Colt shut off his truck. Looking up at Macy’s house, she had to smile. Every time she came home, it was such a pleasure to be living here that her mood changed for the better.
There weren’t any apartments in Chance County, no place for a single woman to stay and be safe. But Macy James had been a friend of her mother’s a long time ago, and she’d volunteered to put Lacie up in the vacant mother-in-law cottage behind her big two-story house on a shady street.
Lacie loved this place. Her cottage was tiny, but that was all she needed. The street was one of the quietest in town, only a few blocks from the main street through town, and Macy the most wonderful landlady ever. Half the time she brought home leftovers from the café, and Lacie was the beneficiary. And Macy would let her use the laundry facilities and refrigerator anytime.
In fact, Lacie had already allowed herself to feel at home here. And was beginning to think of Macy as family—even though she really didn’t have a clue how having a family should feel. As a little girl, when it had been only her and her mother, she’d longed for a father and maybe some brothers and sisters. She could never figure out why her mom seemed so distant and cold and why they never stayed in one place for long, but kept imagining that having a father would make all the difference.
When her mother had married Sheriff McCord, Lacie had been thrilled for the opportunity to start a new life in Chance. Finally, she thought, they would have a real home and become a real family. She’d even taken her stepfather’s last name. But becoming a real family never happened. Things only went downhill from there and if it hadn’t been for Colt, she wasn’t sure what would have become of her.
Now, even grown up, she still longed for a family of her own. And Macy James had given her a reason for hope. In her secret
dreams, of course, Colt would’ve been another reason to hope for a family. But apparently she needed to stop fantasizing about any happily-ever-afters with him.
However, no matter what else she did or didn’t do, there’d be no stopping her fantasies about the man himself. About kissing him. Making love to him. He turned her to mush with just a smile. Still, she needed to keep a steady head around him, as obviously he wouldn’t be settling down in Chance. Not now. Not ever.
As she and Colt neared Macy’s back door and the smell of bread baking lightened her steps, she had to admit that she’d done a bad job investigating this case so far. It hadn’t even occurred to her that if Macy had been acquainted with her mother, she might also have known Mrs. Chance. But perhaps Lacie had let herself become too emotionally involved to think clearly.
That needed to stop. She let Colt and herself into the kitchen and called out to Macy as she set the plate of cookies in the refrigerator.
“There you are,” Macy said as she came in from the laundry room. “What’s up?”
“Macy, this is Colt Chance. He’s home recuperating from injuries he suffered on the job. We have…”
Interrupting as she took Colt’s hand, Macy gazed up into his face. “I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. You look just like your father did at your age. Well, but with your mother’s eyes. I would’ve recognized you anywhere, son.”
Colt slid his hand out of hers. “Thank you, Mrs. James. You’re not the only one who says so. Can you spare some time with us this evening?”
“Call me Macy. Everyone does. Have a seat.” She gestured to the kitchen table surrounded by four chairs. “You two want a light supper? It’ll just take a second to heat something up.”
Lacie slid into a chair and answered, “Not right now. Maybe in a little bit. Please sit down.”
Colt waited for Macy to be seated and then turned a chair around and sat facing them over the back. “We—that is, Lacie and I—are trying to find out about my parents. We were hoping you’d remember things from the time around my mother’s death that you could share with us.”