by Rita Herron
“Tawny-Lynn talked to a couple of former classmates and thinks that Peyton might have been having an affair with a married man. Did anyone mention that when you investigated?”
Simmons scowled. “No. I talked to a few of the kids at the memorial services, but everyone said Peyton was dating J.J. McMullen. Your folks said Ruth wasn’t involved with anyone.”
Chaz picked up a rock and skipped it across the water. “What if J.J. was pissed off about the breakup? Maybe he followed the bus and ran it off the road, then abducted Peyton and Ruth?” After all, he’d been strong even at eighteen. He could have subdued the girls one at a time.
“That’s possible, although I remember talking to J.J. and he was pretty broken up. He had an alibi, too. One of the cheerleaders said he was with her during the time of the crash.”
“He could have convinced the girl to lie for him,” Chaz suggested.
Simmons shrugged. “I suppose that’s true.”
“Did any of the teenagers mention that someone had a grudge against Peyton or Ruth?”
“Not that I recall. At the time, we assumed the case was connected to the missing girls from Sunset Mesa.”
“We have to consider all the possibilities,” Chaz said. “Did anyone go missing about that time? A man, I mean?”
“No. I checked in case one of the girls ran off with someone but no names came up.”
He’d have a chat with J.J. McMullen. If he had done something to the girls, maybe guilt had set in and he’d be ready to confess.
If not, he’d look at Plumbing again.
Hell. He understood the reason the case had gone cold. One question only led to another, and different theories where they’d chased lead after lead ended up yielding no results.
Tawny-Lynn seemed to be the only one who might have seen something.
But that secret was locked in her head.
The very reason someone wanted her dead.
* * *
TAWNY-LYNN STACKED the dishes in the dishwasher, retrieved the few gardening tools she could find in her father’s shed, stuffed an old high-school ball cap on her head and walked outside. She surveyed the front property and realized the most she could do short-term was to clean out the weed-infested flowerbeds and plant some roses.
That would require a run to the lawn-and-garden supply store for compost and a good sprayer. But first she needed to weed the beds in front and the one on the side of the house.
She yanked on gardening gloves, knowing she had to take advantage of the early-morning temperatures before the hot Texas sun climbed the sky.
She yanked and pulled and tore the weeds from the two beds flanking the porch steps, then checked the pH level of the soil. Yes, it definitely needed the nutrients provided by bonemeal so she mentally added that to her list.
Perspiration beaded on her forehead, and she swiped at it with the back of her sleeve, dumped the weeds into the wheelbarrow, then hauled it around to the right side to work on the last flowerbed. She’d probably need a new trellis here and would put climbing roses, maybe a mixture of red, yellow and pink to add color against the faded white house.
The entire structure needed painting, but she didn’t have the money for that. The new owners could fix it up the way they wanted.
A momentary pang of sadness assaulted her as she actually imagined the for-sale sign in the front yard.
Good grief. She couldn’t get sentimental now. This place would be an albatross around her neck if she kept it.
And too much of a reminder of the family she’d lost.
Something sparkled in the sunlight and she squatted down and realized it was a bracelet nearly buried in the dirt.
With gloved hands, she brushed away dirt until the bracelet was uncovered fully, then picked it up. Her heart slammed against her rib cage as she turned it around and studied the charms.
Both Peyton and Ruth had worn charm bracelets. Her sister’s favorite charm had been a heart she’d said her secret boyfriend had given her. At the time, she’d thought Peyton was joking about the boyfriend.
But this bracelet didn’t have a heart charm. Instead, there was a tulip, a cougar for Camden Creek Cats, a telephone, pair of red high heels and a small key, which said Key to My Heart.
This bracelet had belonged to Ruth.
Her heart pounded. Why was it here in the old flowerbed? Had Ruth lost it one day when she was on the ranch?
Although Ruth and Peyton never worked in the garden. That had been her job.
Only, she’d lost interest for a while after the accident.
She held the bracelet up to the light, her eyes widening as she spotted a dark stain on the band of the bracelet. It looked like...blood.
Her imagination went wild. But reality interceded, and she realized Ruth could have lost it months before the accident. An animal or even the wind could have tossed it in the dirt. In fact, she’d seen the cat pawing in this flowerbed the night before.
She tucked it in her pocket. She’d save it and give it to Chaz. He’d probably want to keep it.
Curious still as to how it had come to be in the flowerbed, she raked her hand through the weeds.
The ground was uneven. Slightly curved at the top almost like a...grave.
Pulse clamoring, she grabbed the shovel and began to dig. One shovel of dirt, another, a third...and the shovel tip hit something.
She knelt to examine it and gasped.
Dear God, no...
The shovel had hit bone.
Chapter Thirteen
After leaving Simmons, Chaz stopped by the butcher shop. J.J. stood behind the counter, his apron bloody from cutting meat for the morning shopping crowd.
He’d always thought it odd that J.J., who’d been a popular football player, had come back to help run his father’s store. He’d called his deputy on the way over and asked him to run a check on McMullen and had learned some interesting stuff.
The former football star had a record.
J.J. looked up at him, a wary look creasing his beefy face. He handed the woman her order, then she went to the register to pay J.J.’s father.
Chaz crossed his arms. “We need to talk.”
J.J. shot his father a wary look, but his father motioned for him to take a break.
J.J. led him through the back work area, and Chaz grimaced at the bloody meat on the stainless-steel tables. The meat-cooling locker stood to the right.
A good place to hide a body.
“What do you want?” J.J. asked.
Chaz decided to use the direct approach. “Someone tried to kill Tawny-Lynn Boulder last night. Where were you?”
The man’s mouth fell open, then he shut it, his eyes livid. “You think I tried to hurt her? Why the hell would I do that?”
“Just asking.” Chaz lifted his brows, waiting.
J.J. ran a hand over his apron and heaved a breath. “Listen, it wasn’t me.”
“You know who it was then?”
“No. I just mean I wouldn’t hurt Tawny-Lynn.”
“You left college because you were arrested for assaulting a girl.”
Shock streaked J.J.’s face. “That was bull. Someone at a party gave this girl some coke. She went crazy and accused me of coming on to her. But I never touched her.”
“Then why did you leave school?”
“Because her father was rich and, at that point, I’d blown out my knee and couldn’t play ball.” He gestured at the butcher shop. “As you can see, my family doesn’t have money like yours. I couldn’t afford a fancy lawyer, so the court-appointed attorney, some kid barely out of diapers, talked me into a plea.”
Chaz gritted his teeth. “What about Peyton Boulder? She left you for another guy, an older man. That make you mad?”
&nbs
p; J.J. glared at him. “Yeah, it made me mad. But not enough to kill her. For God’s sake, I loved her.”
“All the more reason for you to try to win her back. Maybe you chased down the bus, accidentally hit them, then pulled her out. When she wouldn’t go with you, you lost your temper.”
“That’s not true. I wasn’t even in Camden Crossing that day,” J.J. growled. “I was...never mind.”
“Where were you?” Chaz asked.
J.J. looked down at his apron, then his bloodstained hands. For God’s sake, he could have cut the girls up to pieces and stored them in his father’s meat locker until all the commotion died down.
“Where were you?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything,” J.J. said.
“Sheriff Simmons said one of the cheerleaders gave you an alibi. If I talk to her, is she going to change her story?”
A frisson of fear streaked J.J.’s face. “If you’re going to arrest me, I want a lawyer.”
A bold move since he’d just claimed that his first one had failed him.
Chaz jerked him by the collar. “If you’re innocent and have nothing to hide, you’ll tell me. Then I can eliminate you as a suspect.”
J.J.’s nostrils flared. “Coach caught me smoking weed and threatened to cut me from the team unless I went for treatment. I was in a drug rehab class that day. All day.”
That would be easy to check.
Chaz had one more question. “Did Peyton tell you the name of the man she was seeing?”
J.J. hissed between his teeth. “No. But she said she was going to marry him, and he’d give her everything she ever wanted. Things I couldn’t.”
J.J.’s angry gaze flattened, grief replacing the anger. “I didn’t hurt Peyton,” he said. “Besides, if I knew the jerk she was seeing, I would have gone after him, not her.”
Chaz’s phone buzzed, and he quickly checked the number. Tawny-Lynn.
“Don’t leave town,” he told J.J. as he walked away to answer the call.
“Chaz,” Tawny-Lynn cried. “You have to come quick.”
He jumped in his car and flipped the engine. “What’s wrong? Did the guy come back?”
“No,” Tawny-Lynn said, her voice cracking. “I found a body on the ranch.”
Dread balled in his belly. If it was on White Forks, odds were that it was Peyton. And if Peyton was buried there, would Ruth be there, too?
* * *
TAWNY-LYNN’S HAND trembled as she jammed her phone into her pocket. She couldn’t take her eyes off the grave.
For a moment, she’d hoped, prayed, that the bones belonged to their old dog who’d died when she was a freshman in high school. But she’d raked enough dirt away to see one of the blankets they used to keep in the barn in the hole.
Someone had used the blanket to wrap the body in.
And judging from the length of the grave, a human body lay inside.
A noise from the woods startled her, and she grabbed the rifle and swung it toward the direction of the sound. Seconds later, a baby doe scampered away, and she blew out a breath of relief.
Damn. Her hands were shaking so badly that if that had been her attacker from the night before, she would have missed him by a mile. That is, if she managed to fire a shot before he jumped her.
Struggling to calm herself, she walked back to the porch and sat down on the steps. But she kept her eyes peeled for trouble, the rifle in her hands.
Her phone buzzed again, and she saw it was the auto-shop number, so she snapped it up with one hand.
“Tawny-Lynn, about your car...”
God, she’d forgotten to call him. “Yes?”
“I had to realign it and we pounded out the dent. I figure we’ll check out the brakes while it’s here. You can pick it up tomorrow.”
“Okay, great. Thanks.”
An engine roared down the driveway and she looked up, grateful to see Chaz zooming up to the house. He screeched to a stop, jumped out and ran toward her, then eased the rifle from her hands and laid it on the porch. He gripped her arms. “Where’s the body?”
Tawny-Lynn swallowed hard and pointed toward the flowerbed. “I was digging up weeds to plant some roses when the shovel hit something.”
Chaz squeezed her hands. “Stay here. I’ll take a look.”
“Chaz?”
“Yeah?”
“At first I thought it might be the dog we used to have, but...the body’s wrapped in a blanket from the horse barn. And the grave...it’s too big.”
His eyes flickered with myriad emotions, then he walked around the side of the house. Tawny-Lynn dropped her head in her hands, her mind spinning.
Her father and sister had argued the night before Peyton went missing. But he hadn’t hurt her....
She’d been in that bus accident. So how would Peyton’s body have ended up here?
* * *
DREAD BALLOONED IN Chaz’s chest as he rounded the house and stooped by the flowerbed. Tawny-Lynn was right.
The hole was a grave, although she’d barely uncovered enough for him to see the size. Odds were, though, that her sister was buried here and that a domestic dispute between father and daughter had occurred.
Hadn’t Tawny-Lynn been through enough without finding Peyton’s body on her homestead?
Still, the grave triggered more questions.
How had the body gotten here? He tried to piece together a possible scenario in his mind. Her father had discovered Peyton was having an affair with a married man, then found Peyton at the crash site and brought her to the ranch and...what? Killed her? That didn’t make sense. Especially when police were crawling over the crash site and Tawny-Lynn had been injured.
He’d have to check and see what time Boulder had shown up at the hospital.
He phoned the crime team from the county, knowing he needed help. With a body this decomposed, they needed a forensic specialist and an M.E., all with skills he didn’t possess.
While he waited on them to arrive, he strode to his car, retrieved his camera and snapped some pictures of the scene, capturing the grave, blanket and bone poking through the soil. When he finished, he found Tawny-Lynn still sitting on the steps, her forehead creased with anxiety.
“The M.E. and crime lab techs will be here soon. They’ll transport the body to the morgue for an autopsy.”
She nodded, but she looked numb. He took her hands in his and realized they were icy cold, so he rubbed them between his own to warm them.
“I’m so sorry, Tawny-Lynn.”
“I’m going to make some coffee,” she said as if rallying. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long afternoon.”
He wished he could make this nightmare easier for her, but he couldn’t. And if Peyton was in the ground, where was Ruth? They’d assumed all these years that the same man had abducted the two of them.
Now he didn’t know what to think.
* * *
THE CRIME UNIT AND M.E. arrived, and Tawny-Lynn stepped back outside for introductions. “Lieutenant Levi Gibbons,” a big, dark-haired man said. “I’m with the crime lab and M.E.’s office.” He gestured toward two younger men, a blond with a buzz cut and a brown-haired guy with a goatee. “This is Seth Arnaught and Corey Benson.”
Chaz introduced himself, and Tawny-Lynn shook their hands. “There’s coffee and sandwiches inside whenever you want them.”
The lieutenant removed his sunglasses and leveled Tawny-Lynn with a concerned look. “You found the body, ma’am?”
Tawny-Lynn nodded and lifted her chin. Some of the color had returned to her face, but her eyes still looked listless. In shock.
But she was trying her damnedest not to show any weakness.
“I came back to the ranch to fix it up to sell it. I was diggi
ng through the flowerbeds when the shovel hit bone.”
Another man, mid-fifties with silver hair, emerged with his own team. “I’m the chief medical examiner, Stony Sagebrush.”
Another round of introductions were made, then Chaz asked, “Are you men familiar with the case of the two girls who disappeared from Camden Crossing seven years ago?”
They indicated that they were.
“You think this is one of the girls?” Lieutenant Gibbons asked.
Tawny-Lynn cleared her throat. “Yes. Maybe my sister, Peyton.”
“What would make you say that?” Lieutenant Gibbons asked. “Didn’t your father and sister get along?”
Tawny-Lynn gave Chaz a pleading look.
“Her father liked to drink,” Chaz said. “But Peyton went missing from the bus accident, so there are a lot of missing pieces to the puzzle.”
“All right, let’s get to work,” Gibbons said. “No use speculating until we verify whose body it is.”
They all agreed, and Chaz led the crime team and M.E. around the side of the house to the grave. They snapped photographs of the house, surrounding property and gravesite before the team exhumed the body.
Tawny-Lynn remained on the porch with a cup of coffee, a faraway look in her eyes.
“You said there were two missing girls?” Lieutenant Gibbons glanced across the property. “Do you think the other girl is buried here somewhere?”
Chaz swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t know. If Peyton’s father took her from the accident and killed her, it was probably in a fit of rage. I still can’t figure out how he’d have gotten her to leave the accident scene anyway. Tawny-Lynn was hurt and rushed to the hospital, and there were rescue workers and law enforcement officers everywhere.”
“Maybe the two girls escaped but were disoriented and wandered away from the scene. Then Boulder showed up and found them?”
“I suppose it’s possible, although there are still too many holes in the theory.”
“If I were you, I’d organize a search party to comb this ranch just in case,” Lieutenant Gibbons suggested.
Chaz considered the idea. “I’ll get right on it.”