by Cindi Myers
“Does he often disappear without telling you where he’s going?” Travis asked.
“Oh, no. He always stays in touch. That’s why this is so unusual. And why I was going to call you.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Travis said. “Do you think something has happened to Mr. Hake?”
“I couldn’t say. All I know is that Mr. Hake is missing.”
Chapter Fifteen
Volunteering at the history museum was not the most exciting work Lacy had ever done, but she enjoyed spending time with Brenda, and the work gave her something to do. Now that she had adjusted to life at home once more, she was growing restless. She needed a job, but a small town like Eagle Mountain didn’t offer many employment opportunities, so for now at least, volunteering seemed the best solution.
The museum occupied the building that had once been Eagle Mountain’s hospital, back at the turn of the nineteenth century, when the town had boasted five grocery stores, a dairy, a lumberyard, a train depot and a population five times what it was these days. The various rooms of the hospital housed themed displays, with space in the back for a classroom, archives and a workroom. Everyone from schoolchildren to tourists regularly filed through the building, which had developed a reputation as one of the finest small-town museums in the state.
Lacy finished tacking red, white and blue bunting around the large front windows and turned to find Brenda frowning at a computer screen behind the front desk. “What are you looking at that put that sour look on your face?” she asked.
Brenda turned away from the computer. “A customer came in yesterday, asking about a book we usually keep in stock, but were out of. I was trying to see if I could find out where Jan orders our books so I could get this lady a copy, but I’m having a hard time figuring out her system for organizing things.”
“What will happen if Jan is arrested?” Lacy asked, joining her friend at the museum’s front counter, which served as both check-in desk and retail checkout.
“Even if she didn’t kill Andy—and I still can’t believe she did—her affair will be a scandal,” Brenda said. “The town owns this museum and I doubt if they’ll keep her on.”
“Will you apply to be the director, then?”
“I’d like to.” She studied Lacy’s face. “What about you? Want to be my assistant?”
“I would love to work for you, but I’m not in love with history the way you are.” Lacy picked up an antique paperweight from the counter and turned it over in her hand. “I think I should use the money I got from the state to go to school.”
“Do you know what kind of career you want to pursue?” Brenda asked.
“I was thinking maybe...education. My mom is a teacher and I like kids.” She set the paperweight back on the counter. “I think I’d be good at the job.”
“We certainly need good teachers. You should go for it.”
“I already did some research,” Lacy said. “I can enroll in the university in Junction and commute to classes from here.”
“So you’d stay in Eagle Mountain?”
“This is home.” Even with everything that had happened here—the tragedy of Andy’s death and those awful months before and during her trial—Lacy still felt more comfortable here than she had anywhere else. “I don’t want to leave.”
“And a certain handsome sheriff is here...” Brenda’s eyes sparkled.
Lacy laughed. “There is that. But I think I’d like to find my own place to live. My parents are happy to have me stay with them as long as I like, but it feels too much like I’m in high school, with them watching my every move.”
“I know a place you can rent,” Brenda said.
That got Lacy’s attention. Rentals, like jobs, were scarce in small towns like Eagle Mountain. “Where?”
“Andy and I fixed up an apartment over our garage, thinking we would use it when relatives visited. It’s been sitting empty all this time, but I’d love to rent it to you. You’d have your own entrance and could come and go as you please.”
“That sounds perfect.” Lacy leaned over the counter to hug her friend. “Just tell me when I can move in.”
Brenda returned the hug. “You should look at the place first, make sure it’s what you want,” she said.
“Does it have room for a bed and my own bathroom?”
“And a tiny kitchen and living room,” Brenda said.
“Then I love it already.”
The bell on the front door rang, announcing someone had entered the museum. “I’ll take care of this,” Brenda said. “Would you go into the workroom and look in the closet and take out the box marked Pioneer Days Costumes? We need to go through those before the festival.”
Lacy found the box in question and looked around for a pair of scissors to cut the tape. But voices from the front of the museum caught her attention and she froze, listening. “I didn’t know you were interested in local history, Mr. Barnes,” Brenda said.
Lacy tiptoed to the door of the workroom and peered out at the front reception area. Ian Barnes, his black Eagle Mountain Outfitters T-shirt stretched like a second skin over his powerful chest and shoulders, stood across from Brenda at the front counter. “Somebody told me you have a display of old climbing gear and some pictures,” he said.
Brenda handed him some change and an admission token. “We do. It’s in the Local Sports room—second door on the left.” She indicated the hallway to her right.
Ian replaced his wallet in his back pocket. “Hello, Lacy,” he said.
Lacy jumped. She hadn’t realized she was standing where Ian could see her. Reluctantly, she stepped into the front room. “Hello,” she said.
“Do you work here, too?” Ian asked.
“No. I’m, uh, volunteering.”
He put his hand lightly at her back—a touch that sent a shiver up her spine. “Why don’t you show me where this Local Sports room is?”
“Go ahead and go with him, Lacy,” Brenda said.
“It’s down this way.” Lacy hurried forward, away from his touch, and led him to the room, which, in addition to historic photos of rock climbers and skiers, included a feature on a 1930s boxing champion who had hailed from the area and jerseys from local sports teams.
Ian stepped inside the room and Lacy turned to leave, but he grabbed her by the wrist. “Stay a minute and tell me more about yourself,” he said.
She pressed her back against the door frame, tamping down the urge to flee. Why did this man leave her feeling so unsettled? While every other woman in town seemed gone over the fact that he was so good-looking, what she felt in his presence wasn’t attraction, but fear. “Why do you want to know about me?” she asked, keeping her voice light and focusing her gaze on the displays in the room.
“Oh, the usual reason.” He smiled, and the effect was dazzling.
“What is the usual reason?”
“I’m a single guy, you’re a pretty single woman.” He leaned toward her, one hand on the doorjamb, over her head. “I’d like to get to know you better.”
“I’m involved with someone, Mr. Barnes,” she said, wincing inwardly at the primness of her words.
“The county sheriff. I’ve seen you two together. But you’re not engaged or anything, right?”
“No.”
He flashed the smile again. “Then you can’t blame a guy for trying.” To her great relief, he lowered his hand and turned to study the sepia-toned pictures of men in woolen knickers and heavy boots climbing up Dakota Ridge. “Somebody told me you used to work for that lawyer who was killed.”
“Yes.”
“I guess you knew all about all his clients then.”
“Actually, no, I didn’t.” She edged toward the door. Why was he asking about Andy’s clients?
“I think maybe you know more than you’re saying,” he said. “That’s
good. It’s always good to know when to keep a secret.”
The skin along Lacy’s arms stood up in gooseflesh. Did Ian Barnes know about the blackmail? Had Andy blackmailed him? She backed out of the room. “I don’t have anything to say to you or anyone else,” she said.
“That’s good.” He turned and his eyes met hers, and the look in them froze her blood. His earlier flirtatiousness had been replaced by pure menace. “If I were you, I wouldn’t tell my boyfriend, the sheriff, about our little conversation,” he said. “After all, your parents have suffered enough, haven’t they?”
Lacy all but ran back to the front room, past Brenda and into the workroom. Brenda hurried after her. “Lacy, what is it?” she asked. “You’re white as a ghost. Did Ian do something to upset you? Should I call Travis?”
Lacy shook her head. “No. No, I’m fine. I just...” She put a hand to her head. “I just had a dizzy spell. I didn’t eat breakfast this morning.” She struggled to pull herself together, not to let her friend see how terrified she was. She felt confident enough to stand up to someone like Ian Barnes on her own. But when he threatened her family, he left her defenseless.
“Have some water.” Brenda took a bottle from a small refrigerator under the counter and handed it to Lacy. “Are you sure this doesn’t have something to do with Ian?”
Lacy drank some water and began to feel a little steadier. “He just makes me uncomfortable, that’s all,” she said.
“Yeah, he may be gorgeous, but have you noticed he never smiles?”
Lacy shuddered as she remembered the smile he had fixed on her like a weapon. “I don’t like him,” she said, keeping her voice low.
“I’m sorry,” Brenda said. “If he comes around again, I’ll offer to give him a tour myself.” She moved back up front and Lacy sagged against the counter and drank more water. Should she tell Travis about her encounter with Ian? Maybe he could find something on Andy’s computer that would point to Ian as the victim of blackmail.
But what if word got back to Ian that she had told, and he made good on his threat to hurt her parents? Travis would offer to protect her family, but what if he couldn’t?
“That’s funny.” Brenda came back into the workroom. “Ian left already.”
“Did he say anything?” Lacy asked.
“No. When I walked back into the front room just now he was headed out. I called after him, but he must not have heard me. He got in that Jeep of his and drove away.” She shrugged. “I guess all he wanted to see was the climbing gear and pictures. Some people are like that—they’re only interested in items related to their hobby or history or family or whatever.”
“Right.” Lacy finished her water and tossed the bottle in the recycling bin. “I guess we’d better get back to work,” she said. “What’s next on the list?”
“Costumes.” Brenda walked to the box Lacy had taken from the closet, opened it and pulled out a blue-and-white striped dress. Or, Lacy thought it was a dress—until she saw the attached bloomers.
“What is that?” she asked.
“It’s an 1890s bathing costume.” Brenda held the garment up to her body. “It’s wool, and comes complete with a lace-trimmed cap and lace-up slippers. Jan and I wore them last year for Pioneer Days and they were a hit.”
“You’ll look adorable,” Lacy said, trying hard not to laugh at the image she had of Brenda in the old-fashioned garment.
“Oh, I won’t be alone.” Brenda reached into the box and pulled out a second costume—this one red, with white ruffles at the neck and hem. “You and Jan are about the same size.” She tossed the suit to Lacy. “And don’t you dare say no. You promised to help, remember?”
“So I did.” Lacy held the bathing costume at arm’s length and made a face. It reminded her of a flannel nightgown. Not exactly the thing to turn the head of a certain sheriff.
“Please, Lacy,” Brenda pleaded. “Don’t make me look ridiculous all by myself. And I could really use the help.”
“I’ll wear it,” Lacy said. “After all, you’re going to be renting me my sweet new apartment.” And at least volunteering at the festival would help take her mind off Ian Barnes. When she had a little more distance from her encounter with him, she would decide what to do.
* * *
TRAVIS SUMMONED HIS DEPUTIES, both regular and reserve, to the sheriff’s department for a strategy session. “Eddie is out of the hospital but on medical leave,” he said to begin the meeting. “Which may be permanent leave, when I’ve had more time to review his conduct that day. I don’t need reserve officers who decide to interfere with investigations—on their days off or any other time.” The pointed look he gave the two other reserve officers in attendance was enough to make them squirm.
“On to the next item of business,” he continued. “Pioneer Days is this weekend. The sheriff’s office has agreed to supply a couple of officers to help with crowd and traffic control, but four of us will be on duty throughout the weekend, and available to head off trouble if we see it developing.”
“Check your schedules,” Gage said to the reserves. “With Eddie out, I had to juggle things a bit.”
“Moving on.” Travis consulted his notes. “Henry Hake’s administrative assistant, Marsha Caldwell, filed a missing person’s report on him this morning. No one has seen or heard from him in the last forty-eight hours. There’s no activity on his phone or credit cards, and his car is missing. But there’s no sign of a struggle or violence at his home or office, so it’s still possible he took a trip somewhere without telling anyone. He wouldn’t be the first company executive to decide to take a break and shut off his phone for a long weekend.”
“But you don’t really think that’s what happened,” Gage said.
“No. Everything we’ve been dealing with lately—the reopening of the investigation into Andy Stenson’s murder, the attack on Brenda and Lacy, the bombing of the storage unit, even Eddie’s shooting—all have connections to Eagle Mountain Resort. We need to keep digging and see how they all link up.”
“What’s the next step?” Dwight asked.
“I want to check out the site Hake had planned for his resort. And I want you and Gage to go with me.”
The meeting ended a few minutes later. The reserve officers left. Adelaide met Travis, Gage and Dwight in the front office. “It’s a wonder your ears aren’t burning, considering how the revelation that Andy Stenson was blackmailing Jan Selkirk, and Henry Hake’s disappearance are all anybody can talk about.”
“Anybody else confess to having been blackmailed by Andy Stenson?” Gage asked.
“Nah. Though Josh Lindberg at the hardware store is supposedly taking bets on whether Henry Hake left town because of the scandal with Jan, or whether Barry Selkirk ran him out of the county.”
“That doesn’t sound like Barry’s style to me,” Dwight said. “My guess is he’d be more likely to run Jan out of town.”
“Word is he’s sticking by her,” Adelaide said. “Paid for a top lawyer from Denver and everything.”
“I hope they work it out,” Travis said. “We’re headed up to the resort site to check things out. You know how to reach us if anything happens.”
“I’d say we’ve had more than enough happen lately,” Adelaide said. “I’m ready for the crime wave to be over. People are going to get the wrong idea about Eagle Mountain if this keeps up.”
They set out, Gage and Dwight together in one SUV, Travis leading the way in the Toyota. The town was abuzz with preparations for the festival the following day. Wade Tomlinson and Brock Ryan were setting up a climbing wall for kids in front of Eagle Mountain Outfitters, and the Elks Club members were transforming the park into a mini-carnival, complete with a test-your-strength game, designed to look like a pioneer chopping wood, and a series of water troughs set up so that kids could pan for gold.
Travis had heard that Lacy was h
elping Brenda at the museum, but he hadn’t had a chance to talk to her, what with the craziness of Jan’s confession that she was blackmailed and Henry Hake’s disappearance. But they had made a date to meet up the day of the festival to watch the fireworks together. And maybe, he thought, go back to his place afterward and make a few fireworks of their own.
The proposed site for Eagle Mountain Resort was eight miles out of the town proper, near the top of Dakota Ridge, but Eagle Mountain had annexed the land three years previously, largely at the urging of then-mayor Jan Selkirk, on the theory that the luxury development would be a tax boon to the community. So far, that prediction hadn’t come true. The sheriff’s department vehicles drove through the twin stone pillars that marked the entrance to the resort, into a landscape of crumbling asphalt and abandoned building foundations. Grass and even small shrubs broke through the neglected streets, and the stakes marking lot lines had fallen over or were barely visible through the underbrush that had taken over. Staked trees and other landscaping that had died from neglect dotted the landscape.
They parked in front of a five-foot-by-four-foot sign that touted the amenities of the resort, with an artist’s rendering of the development, the homes all soaring redwood beams and glass walls, luxury four-wheel-drive vehicles parked on cobblestone drives while elegantly dressed men and women smiled and laughed.
“Yeah, it sure doesn’t look anything like that now,” Gage observed.
“I never could understand how Hake thought he was going to sell a bunch of people on living way up here,” Dwight said. “It’s eight miles down the mountain to town, and in winter you could end up stuck up here for days. Not to mention the avalanche potential.” He looked behind them, up the slope of Dakota Ridge.
“These aren’t the kinds of homes people live in full-time,” Gage said. He indicated the illustration on the sign. “People who build these kinds of places spend a few weeks in them at a time. When the weather gets bad they move to their villa in Tuscany or something.”
“Let’s take a look around,” Travis said. He began walking, heading for a trio of curved metal air vents jutting up from a concrete pad.