by Cindi Myers
Travis rose and moved past Adelaide. “Where are you off to?” she asked.
“I’m going to have a chat with Mr. Barnes.”
* * *
DWIGHT WAS ON DUTY, so Travis asked him to ride along to the Bear’s Den B and B. Paige was clearly surprised to find two cops at her door. “Is there a problem?” she asked.
“We’re looking for Ian Barnes,” Travis said. “Is he around?”
“He checked out yesterday,” she said.
“He wasn’t going to stay around for the festival?” Dwight asked.
“He had a reservation through next week,” Paige said. “But he said something had come up and he needed to leave.” She shrugged. “I had a waiting list of people who wanted to stay here during the festival, so the early checkout didn’t hurt me.”
“Did he say why, exactly, he had to leave?” Travis asked.
“No, and I didn’t ask. I believe in respecting people’s privacy.”
“So it didn’t strike you as suspicious that he would leave so suddenly?” Travis asked.
“Work with the public long enough and nothing people do will surprise you,” Paige said. “I thought maybe the idea of the crowds that are coming to town for the festival was stressing him out, so he decided to leave.”
From the B and B, Travis and Dwight headed to Eagle Mountain Outfitters. Wade was manning the register and greeted the officers when they walked in. “No more sign of that shoplifter,” he said.
“We’re looking for Ian Barnes,” Travis said.
“Haven’t seen him for a couple of days,” Wade said. “I think he was planning on doing some climbs out in Shakes Canyon. I’d have liked to go with him, but we’ve been too busy at the store.”
“We were just over at the Bear’s Den and Paige says he checked out yesterday afternoon,” Travis said.
Wade frowned. “He didn’t say anything to us. But then again, Ian’s a different kind of guy.”
“What do you mean by that?” Dwight asked.
“Oh, you know—standoffish. Not much for social niceties. He was probably just ready to leave and decided to go. It’s a bummer, though, because he was supposed to help with the fireworks show tomorrow night.”
“Why was Barnes helping with the fireworks?” Travis asked.
“Because he had experience with explosives in the military,” Wade said. “We thought he’d be a natural to help set up the big fireworks display above town. The fire department and the Elks Club do most of the work, but they were happy to get an experienced volunteer.”
“Where do they set up the display?” Dwight asked.
“Up the hills overlooking town. There’s a big flat ledge there looking out over the town, with a backdrop of cliffs. The Elks cleared all the brush from the ledge years ago, so it makes the perfect spot to set up the explosives.”
“Did Barnes say where he planned to head from here?” Travis asked.
“Nah. Ian doesn’t like it when people ask too many questions. He’s the kind of guy you have to accept at face value, on his own terms. He’s an amazing climber, though. Being around him always ups my game.”
They left the store. Out on the sidewalk, Travis studied the row of storefronts decorated for the festival. Tourists were swelling the population of the town and the festival promised to be bigger and better than ever. Not the time he wanted a possible shooter and arsonist on the loose. “Let’s go talk to Jan,” he said. “See what she knows.”
“Where do we find her?” Dwight asked.
“Good question.” Travis had assumed she would be at home, but what if her husband had kicked her out? He called the office. “Adelaide, where is Jan Selkirk staying right now?” he asked.
“She’s still in her home. Barry moved into the guesthouse,” Adelaide said. “But if you’re looking for Jan, check the history museum. Amy Welch said she saw her over there this morning.”
“Thanks.”
They headed to the museum. Sure enough, Jan was there, along with Brenda and Lacy. “Hi, Travis,” Lacy said, offering a wan smile. She was pale, with dark circles under her eyes, though the bruises from the accident had begun to fade. The stress of the whole situation with Jan must be getting to her.
He returned the smile, then turned to Jan. “We need to speak with you for a minute,” he said.
He could tell she wanted to argue, but appeared to think better of doing so in front of Brenda and Lacy. “Come back here,” she said, motioning them to follow her into a room at the back of the building. She shut the door behind them. “I’ve answered all the questions I’m going to without my lawyer, Sheriff,” she said.
“Just tell me where Ian Barnes is headed,” Travis said. “He checked out of the B and B yesterday. I want to know where he went.”
“How should I know where’s he going?”
“Because the two of you are friends, aren’t you?”
She looked away.
“I have a witness who saw you with him,” Travis pressed. “You were at a motel bar, and you gave Barnes money.”
Her face crumpled and she let out a strangled sob. The sudden breakdown of a woman who had always struck Travis as having ice water in her veins was shocking. “What do you have to tell us, Jan?” he asked.
“It wasn’t supposed to turn out that way,” she said through her tears. “That wasn’t what I wanted at all.”
“What wasn’t what you wanted?” Travis asked. He led her to a chair and gently urged her down in it, then pulled up another chair opposite her, while Dwight stationed himself by the door. “Tell me about Ian Barnes.”
She sniffed, and dabbed at her eyes with the tissue Travis handed her. “He was Henry Hake’s bodyguard,” she said. “I hadn’t seen him for years and I didn’t recognize him when he first came to town—when I knew him before, he had longer hair and a moustache. And he didn’t call himself Ian Barnes then—he was Jim Badger. But he remembered me. He showed up at here at the museum late one evening, when I was working by myself. He said if I knew what was good for me, I wouldn’t tell anyone I had known him before.”
“Did he say why he was back in the area?”
She shook her head. “No, and I didn’t ask.”
“What about the money you gave him?”
“I think I’d better call my lawyer,” she said.
“Call him,” Travis said. “But I’m warning you now that when I find Barnes, I’m arresting him. If I find out you gave him money and he’s involved in any of the other crimes I’m trying to solve—including the attack on Lacy and Brenda and the shooting of my deputy, I’ll charge you as an accessory to attempted murder—and possibly murder.” The threat was a bluff. While his suspicions were growing that Barnes was involved in the recent spate of local crimes—and maybe even Andy Stenson’s murder—Travis didn’t yet have enough proof to actually arrest him.
“I didn’t have anything to do with any of those things,” Jan said. She bit her lower lip so hard it bled.
Travis softened his voice. “If you need to tell me something, you should do it now,” he said.
She glanced toward Dwight, then shifted her gaze back to Travis. “All right, I did give him money. I paid him to burn down the storage unit. I wanted to be sure Andy’s files were destroyed, so that you wouldn’t find out about my affair with Henry. He said he could set a fire and no one would ever figure out who did it. I didn’t know he was going to put a bomb out there—or that you and Lacy would end up hurt.” She grew more agitated. “I swear I didn’t know.”
Travis stood. “Call your lawyer,” he said. “Then I want you both to report to the sheriff’s department. Turn yourself in and we’ll talk to the DA about the charges.”
He left her sobbing, with Dwight standing guard. Lacy met him outside the door. “What is going on?” she asked. “Is that Jan crying in there?”
“She’s going to be all right,” Travis said. “Are you okay?”
“A little stressed,” she said, still watching the door to the workroom.
“It will all be over soon,” Travis said. He touched her arm. “I can’t say more, but trust me.”
Her gaze met his and she nodded. More than anything just then, he wanted to kiss her, but the timing felt off. “I do trust you,” she said.
“We’re still on for the fireworks tomorrow night, right?” he said.
“Yes. I’m looking forward to it.” Then she stood on tiptoe and gave him a quick kiss on the lips—a firm, warm pressure that sent a jolt of electricity through him. But before he could reach out and pull her closer, she had moved away. “I’d better let you get back to work,” she said, and left the room.
But she had given him a good reminder of how much she was coming to mean to him. And of how much he wanted to clear this case, so that there would be nothing holding them back in the future.
Chapter Seventeen
Pioneer Days Festival in Eagle Mountain featured the kind of weather Coloradans love to brag about—balmy air, gentle breezes and a sky the color of blue china glaze, a few cottony clouds hanging around as if for the sole purpose of adding interest to photographs of the scenery. As it was, Lacy found herself part of that scenery. In her 1890s bathing costume, she handed out sugar cookies and lemonade and posed for photographs with families, children and a few grinning young men who flirted shamelessly but were otherwise harmless.
Crowds of people showed up to tour the museum, keeping Brenda and Lacy busy. Neither of them had seen or heard anything from Jan, who had left the museum the day before without saying a word. For once the town rumor mill wasn’t churning with any information about the former mayor. Nobody had heard anything about her.
Mayor Larry Rowe made an appearance at the museum midafternoon to shake hands and congratulate everyone on helping to put together such a great festival. “Lacy, you’re looking wonderful,” he said, accepting a cup of lemonade. “I’m glad to see you’re doing so well, making a fresh start.”
What else was she supposed to do? she wondered, but she didn’t voice the question out loud. She merely smiled and moved on to ladling more lemonade into cups.
Travis stopped by for a few minutes after the mayor left, but Lacy only managed to smile at him from behind the counter where she was pouring lemonade. He waved and moved on, but Lacy felt giddy from the brief encounter.
“You certainly look happy about something.” Tammy, the reporter from the Eagle Mountain Examiner, focused her camera on Lacy. “Keep smiling like that.” She clicked off half a dozen pictures, then studied the preview window of her camera. “Oh, those came out nice,” she said. “You look great, and the museum and the crowds in the background might as well be an advertisement for Pioneer Days.”
“I had no idea so many people would come to town for this,” Lacy said.
“It’s a draw,” Tammy said. “Though we can thank the weather for the bigger-than-ever turnout, I think. And it’s supposed to be perfect for the fireworks show tonight and, of course, the dance afterward.” She snagged a sugar cookie from the tray to Lacy’s left. “Only bad thing is that handsome Ian Barnes left town. I was hoping to wrangle at least one dance with that hunk. I probably wouldn’t have worked up the nerve to ask him, but a girl can dream, right?” She took a bite of cookie.
“Ian left town?” Relief surged through Lacy.
“Yeah. Paige said he had reservations through the end of next week, but he came to her and said something had come up and he had to leave.” She brushed cookie crumbs from the front of her shirt. “I’m thinking somebody told him about the crowds this festival attracts and he figured he didn’t want to deal, you know?”
Lacy nodded absently. She leaned toward Tammy, her voice lowered. “Do you know what’s up with Jan Selkirk?” she asked. “We haven’t heard a word from her all day. It’s like she’s disappeared.”
“Maybe she and her husband went away for a few days,” Tammy said. “I heard they were trying to patch things up.”
“Could she do that?” Lacy asked. “Would the sheriff let her leave town while the investigation is still ongoing?”
“I have no idea,” Tammy said. “But I’ll ask around. If I hear anything, I’ll try to swing back by here and let you know.”
“Thanks.”
By six o’clock, when the museum closed, Lacy’s feet ached and her head throbbed. But Travis had agreed to meet her at seven thirty. They planned to walk to the park and stake out a good spot from which to view the fireworks. They could do a little catching up while they waited for the show to begin, and maybe enjoy a glass of wine and a slice of pizza from one of the vendors in the park.
She walked back to the house without having to stop even once. The crowds had thinned and she guessed most of the tourists were eating supper or had headed to their hotels to change or put their feet up before the fireworks show and dance tonight. She let herself into the house and found a note on the hall table from her mom. “Having dinner with Dick and Patsy Shaw. Will probably get home after you leave. Love, Mom.”
Lacy smiled. It was a rare occasion when she had the house to herself. Too bad she didn’t have time to enjoy it. She went upstairs and changed into capris and a knit tank with a matching cardigan for after dark, when the air would cool and she’d welcome another layer.
She still had half an hour before Travis would be here, so she poured a glass of iced tea and went out into the backyard. Here, where a wooden fence protected the space from hungry deer, her mother had created a sanctuary of flowers and fruit. Apple trees full of green apples gave way to paths lined with colorful hollyhocks. A copper birdbath and feeders attracted juncos, goldfinches, orioles and other birds, and wind chimes in the trees added their melody to the scene.
Lacy decided to pick a hollyhock for her hair, and headed toward a stand of dark pink blossoms near the back fence. As she leaned over to pluck the flower, something rustled in the bushes. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a flash of movement, then someone grabbed her from behind. She struggled as something was pulled over her head, blinding her, and she was thrown to the ground. “Make a sound and I swear I’ll kill you now.” The man’s voice was low, his breath hot against her cheek. Something sharp pricked at the side of her breast and she sucked in a breath.
“That’s right,” the voice said. “Keep quiet or Mommy and Daddy will come home to find you butchered in their backyard.”
* * *
AT SHORTLY AFTER SEVEN, Travis met Lacy’s parents as they came up the walkway toward their house. “Are you coming to get Lacy?” Jeanette asked as George unlocked the front door.
“I stopped by the museum on my way over and Brenda said she left about an hour ago to come home and change,” he said, following them into the house.
“That old-fashioned swimsuit was so cute on her,” Jeanette said. “Though she said the wool was a little itchy. Can you imagine wool for a swimsuit?” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and called up. “Lacy! Travis is here!”
He waited, but heard no response. “Go on up,” George said. “She’s probably drying her hair or something and didn’t hear you.”
Travis climbed the stairs, though he heard no hair dryer or other noise as he neared the door to Lacy’s room, which stood open. He paused in the doorway and knocked. “Lacy? Are you in here?” The antique swimsuit lay across the end of the neatly made bed. A laptop sat on her desk near the window, the top open but the machine shut off. Lacy’s purse lay next to it, her phone tucked in a side pocket.
He checked the upstairs bathroom, and even peeked into a second bedroom he assumed belonged to her parents, but found no sign of Lacy.
“Did you find her?” Jeanette asked when he joined her and George in the kitchen.
“No. Her purse is on her desk in her room, but she
’s not upstairs.”
George frowned. “That’s odd. She’s not down here.” He looked at his wife.
“Maybe she decided to walk over to the park and meet you,” Jeanette said.
“She would have taken her purse. Or at least her phone. It’s upstairs in her purse.” The bad feeling that had started when he had seen Lacy’s empty bedroom was growing.
“Oh, this is just silly.” Jeanette moved to the back door. “She’s probably sitting out here in the backyard and we’re in here worrying.”
But the Milligans’ backyard was empty and silent, save for the faint sounds of celebration that drifted from the center of town and the gurgle of the creek just past their fence line. “Lacy!” Travis shouted.
But no answer came.
“What could have happened to her?” Jeanette clutched her husband’s arm.
“She probably did walk downtown to meet me,” Travis said, keeping his voice steady and his expression calm. “She’s probably still not used to carrying a phone around with her and she forgot it. I’ll go look for her.”
“Let us know when you find her,” George said.
“Of course.”
He forced himself not to hurry out of the house, to assume the calm, easygoing saunter of a man who wasn’t worried. But as soon as he was out of sight of the Milligans’ home, he pulled out his phone and called Gage. “Lacy is missing,” he said. “Spread the word to the others to keep an eye out for her.”
“What do you mean, ‘missing’?” Gage asked.
“She left the museum an hour ago and came home to change,” Travis said. “Looks like she did that, but her purse and phone and keys are still here at her parents’ house, only she’s not.”
“She probably just went downtown and forgot her phone,” Gage said.
“I hope that’s what happened,” Travis said. “But I can’t shake the feeling she’s in trouble.”
* * *
IAN BARNES HAD bundled Lacy into his Jeep and driven out of town, away from the crowds of people who might see her with him and act to help her. Once they had reached the vehicle, he had exchanged the knife for a gun and kept it pointed at her while he drove, one-handed, up a dirt road that led up Dakota Ridge.