Bitter Truth

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Bitter Truth Page 10

by C. J. Carmichael


  “You want to come too?”

  “Why not. You’ve got me curious.”

  “Okay,” he said. “I’ll set up a meeting at the library for noon.”

  Tuesday, November 28

  Nadine was the only one in the office when Zak showed up for work the next day. He hung his jacket. “Thanks for making coffee.”

  “Uh-huh.” Her gaze didn’t waver from her computer screen.

  He sat on the edge of his desk, facing her. “So. Last night.”

  Her eyes flicked upward. “What about it?”

  He took a deep breath. “We need to clear the air.”

  “What’s the problem? You went to the bar with your friends and I went with mine.”

  “Just a few weeks ago I thought we were friends, too. But hey. We spend our days together. If you don’t want to be friendly after-hours I get it.”

  She got up from her chair and took a stance, planting her hands on her hips. “Okay. I’ve been a jerk. I’m sorry. Stuff’s been happening. I’m feeling confused.”

  Zak felt like she’d tossed a ball of yarn at him. Which end should he pull? “What kind of stuff?”

  “A friend from my rodeo days said he found the perfect horse for me. You know, to replace Mane Event.”

  “That friend is Dustin Hart? The cowboy you were with last night?”

  “Yeah. He called me last week, the night we had plans to meet up at the Dew Drop. I should have texted to let you know I couldn’t make it. But we FaceTimed for over an hour. Then it was too late.”

  “Are you two...together?”

  “No.” She looked pissed off. “I told you, he called me about a horse. Her name is Making Magic. She’s a gorgeous American quarter horse, just five years old. Over the holidays I drove to Bozeman to look at her.”

  This was so not what he expected. “And...?”

  “I fell in love. Dustin thinks I should get back on the rodeo circuit. I’m not so sure. I like this job.” She glanced at the closed door to the sheriff’s office. “Though some personnel changes would be nice.”

  “I second that.”

  “So I don’t want to quit. But I also don’t want to let Making Magic slip through my fingers. Trouble is, even if I bought her, right now I have no place to keep her.”

  “You could board her somewhere.”

  “No way. If I make a commitment to a horse I’m going to be the one who takes care of her, who grooms her and makes sure she gets her exercise. Who knows, this summer I might enter a few of the local rodeos. Just for kicks.”

  “Sounds like you should be shopping for an acreage, then.”

  “You think?”

  “We could shop together. I’m in the housing market too.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  Before he could answer the phone rang. Caller ID gave him the name Clayton Stillman.

  “Lost Trail Sheriff’s Office,” he said.

  “We’ve got a problem.” It was Clayton speaking. “I need to talk to the sheriff right away.”

  Zak glanced at the time display on his computer. The sheriff wouldn’t be in for at least another fifteen minutes. “Why don’t you explain the situation to me first? Then I can get the ball rolling.”

  “I don’t want a ball rolling. I want the sheriff, and I want him at our place now. Nikki is missing.”

  Zak lost his breath and his ability to speak for a few seconds. In a small county, sheriff business could become personal. But this was crazy. He’d seen Nikki at the Dew Drop just last night.

  “What do you mean by missing? When’s the last time you saw her?”

  Nadine’s head snapped upright at the word “missing.” He tried to ignore her, to focus on Clayton’s response.

  “Nikki told me she was going into town last night. I went to bed around ten and she still wasn’t home. She’s usually up before me in the morning. But not today. Her truck isn’t in her parking spot and her bed doesn’t look like it was slept in.”

  “Have you talked to Em or Eugene or their boys? Maybe she slept over at their house last night.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “I saw both Nikki and Luke at the Dew Drop last night. They left well before ten o’clock. I’m pretty sure Nikki was driving. She pulled out her keys when it was time to go.”

  Neither one had had that much to drink. But maybe they’d gone back to Luke’s house and had a few more?

  “I’ll head over to Eugene’s right now and check,” Clayton said. “Meanwhile, you get Sheriff Ford to give me a call.”

  Zak didn’t bother arguing, though there were plenty of reasons to do so, most importantly that Nikki was an adult and the fact she hadn’t made it home last night was hardly a matter for an official investigation.

  But there was also the possibility something bad had happened to Nikki. Zak didn’t like to think so. But he was definitely going to feel better once he knew for sure she was safe.

  “What’s going on?” Nadine was holstering her firearm.

  He waved at her to hold on a sec. Quickly he tapped out a message to Luke: Where’s Nikki?

  He was about to explain the situation to Nadine when the phone rang again.

  Expecting to see the Stillman name, he was surprised when Miss C. Christensen popped up on the display. He was tempted not to answer, but in this job he didn’t have that luxury.

  “Sheriff’s office.”

  “Zak Waller? You send the sheriff out to my house right this minute, you hear me?”

  He’d taken calls from his old school teacher the day after Halloween every year he’d had this job. But he’d never heard from her at any other time.

  “What’s the problem, Miss Christensen?”

  “The problem is I’m being terrorized. That’s the problem.”

  He’d never heard her sound this upset before. Her lecturing tone was tinged with genuine fear. “Are you okay? Should I send an ambulance?”

  “I’m fine. It’s my house. Again.”

  He could tell Nadine was frustrated at hearing only one end of the conversation. He tried to block out her distracting hand signals.

  “Was it egged?”

  “No, it wasn’t egged. That monster Trevor Larkin and his friend used red paint this time. On my front door! I want their parents to buy me a brand-new door and I want them to promise their miserable children will never set foot near my property again.”

  “Did you see Trevor painting your house?”

  “I don’t need to see them to know they did it. They have a track record. And I don’t want to have to wait a few days this time before someone comes to see the evidence.”

  “Okay. I hear you. We’ll send someone out right away to take your statement and get some pictures—”

  “No pictures! I don’t want any pictures. And I don’t want just anybody coming by. I want the sheriff. This time he better put a stop to these kids.”

  “Sheriff Ford will get back to you eventually. But we’ll start—” He clawed back the ‘ball rolling’ metaphor he’d been about to use and instead said, “Deputy Black will set the wheels in motion with a preliminary statement. Try to stay calm until she gets there. It shouldn’t be long.”

  He was writing down the address as he spoke and by the time he’d finished, Nadine was standing by his desk.

  “I liked the sound of the first call better. Do we have a missing person?”

  “It’s too early to say. Nikki Stillman, the girl with the braid who was at our table last night, didn’t go home after she dropped her cousin home. She’s probably fine, at a friend’s or something. But I have something else that needs your attention.”

  He handed Nadine Cora’s name and address.

  “Someone splashed red paint on her front door. She thinks it’s the same kids who vandalized her house at Halloween. I’m not so sure though. The kids threw eggs; they didn’t do permanent damage.”

  “Escalating crime in Lost Trail. This is serious stuff.”

  He liked h
er sense of humor. You needed a twisted one when you worked for Sheriff Ford. “Cora inherited a life interest in Lacy Stillman’s house. There might be a connection.”

  “Back that up a few steps for me. Is Cora somehow related to the Stillmans?”

  “Nope. But I’ve heard speculation she had a long-term affair with Lacy’s husband. When Jack died sixteen years ago, the house went to Lacy. Now that Lacy’s gone, it goes to Cora.”

  “What was the point? Wouldn’t it have been more helpful to leave his mistress some cash?”

  “Unless Jack’s goal wasn’t so much to help Cora as to humiliate his wife.”

  Nadine’s eyes widened. “Gotcha. I like the diabolical way your mind works.” She took a quick look at the address, then stuffed the piece of paper in her back pocket. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  Zak watched her leave with an unaccustomed pang of regret.

  Usually he was perfectly content being the dispatcher. Sure he was over-qualified. And tied to his desk. But working behind the scenes he managed to keep on top of everything that was happening in the office, without ever drawing too much attention to himself.

  Today though the office was stifling.

  He wanted to see what had been painted on that door, and he wanted to be the one to question the Larkin boy about it. He was almost certain the young teenager would be innocent this time.

  More important than any of that, though, was Nikki.

  He checked in for a message from Luke. Nothing.

  It was highly improbable that anything bad had happened to Nikki. There were all sorts of valid reasons an intelligent woman in her mid-twenties might not go home after an evening at the bar. She could have met up with a guy.

  Though it had seemed like she was flirting with him last night.

  So maybe she’d had late-night plans with a girlfriend.

  But why wouldn’t she have mentioned anything to Luke? Suggested he take his own vehicle into town to save her making the trip twice?

  According to the law, Nikki would have to be missing a lot more than ten hours before an investigation would be launched.

  But knowing Nikki, and her family, and their position in the community, the sheriff would want to make an appearance at the Lazy S as soon as possible.

  Generally the sheriff disliked getting work calls at home, except in emergencies.

  But this was the Stillmans. And election year was around the corner.

  So he took a risk and called.

  After a brusque hello, the sheriff listened as Zak explained the situation.

  “Thanks for letting me know. I’m going to drive straight out there. If I need any help I’ll let you know. Otherwise, expect me back in the office when you see me.”

  “Got it, Sheriff.” Zak hung up, leaned back in his chair and looked around.

  After all that excitement the office was quiet now, his coffee was cold...and all he could do was sit and wait.

  He was beginning to hate his job.

  Chapter Nine

  The library seemed a magical place to Tiff when she was a child, and she still felt a little thrill when she stepped in the front door. A bachelor farmer had donated the two-story house to the town twenty years ago and Sybil—she was the librarian, even back then—had created a comfortable, homey feel in the place.

  There were all sorts of interesting nooks, where you might find a huge beanbag chair or an old-fashioned wing chair flanked by a fringed lamp. Sybil always changed things up so you never knew quite what to expect when you turned a corner.

  After exchanging her snowy boots for a pair of hand-knitted slippers, Tiff stepped through an arch into the former living room—now displaying books about Montana or written by local authors.

  Sybil, wearing a pair of glitzy red-framed eyeglasses, her unruly hair held back by a similarly colored scarf, entered the room a few seconds later.

  “Tiff! Nice to see you, honey. Zak’s already here. I thought we’d chat in the children’s reading nook in the back. I’m just going to put up the CLOSED FOR A FEW MINUTES sign so we won’t be interrupted.”

  “Thanks, Miss T.” She made her way to the back room, formerly the kitchen, but now stuffed with books and toys and a reading corner. Zak sat on one of the beanbag chairs, his thin legs crossed awkwardly in front of him.

  Tiff plopped down next to him. “This is kind of cool. Brings back lots of memories, doesn’t it?”

  But from Zak’s serious expression, he wasn’t remembering the many times they’d sat here as children for Miss T’s famous story hour.

  “No time for a trip back to Pooh Corner today. Nikki didn’t make it home after the bar last night.”

  “What? Did Luke?”

  “Yeah. He finally answered my text messages an hour ago. He says she dropped him at his house and he assumed she was going to her place next. She didn’t say anything about other plans. But according to her dad she wasn’t home this morning. He didn’t hear her last night, either.”

  “Is her vehicle missing?”

  “Yup.”

  “She sounded pretty pissed off at her family. Maybe she went to a friend’s?”

  Zak nodded, but didn’t answer as Sybil came back into the room. She folded her petite, curvy frame easily into the lotus position, on a cushion equidistant from each of them.

  “So, you two. The last time you came to talk to me you were investigating Riley Concurran’s murder. What’s going on this time? Has there been another crime in Lost Trail?” She leaned forward and whispered, “Another murder?”

  “That’s what I need to figure out,” Zak said. “I have questions about Lacy Stillman’s death and I’m hoping you can answer some of them for me.”

  Sybil straightened abruptly. “Lacy was an old woman who died in her sleep.”

  “Yes, it seems so. But the day before we went for a beer. She’d just had her checkup. Said she was in perfect health. And yes, I know that’s no guarantee when you’re old, but consider this.” Zak paused before adding, “The very day Lacy died her family was approached with a two-and-a-half-million-dollar offer for some land. Lacy was opposed to the deal, as you can imagine. Now that she’s gone it’s possible the deal can go through.”

  “You’re saying the timing of her death was opportunistic for the family. But that doesn’t mean they had a hand in it. Even if they did—how was it accomplished? Do you have a theory?”

  “No,” Zak admitted. “And I’m not accusing her family of anything at this point. There is definitely no official investigation going on. I just have questions. As a private citizen.”

  “When you have questions, Zak, I’ve noticed the answers generally lead somewhere.” Sybil turned her probing gaze from him to Tiff. “And why are you involved? Last time the girl involved was a Raven Farms employee.”

  “I don’t have a connection this time. I think Zak likes to share his theories with me because he can’t go to the sheriff.”

  “Oh, Zak.” Sybil held out her hands, palms upward. “That’s a problem you’re going to need to deal with one day. You can’t get away with working behind Ford’s back forever.”

  “Yeah. I hear you. Does that mean you won’t help us?”

  “Heavens no! Ask me your questions. I’ll help if I can.”

  “The day of Lacy’s funeral you mentioned Lacy didn’t like Cora Christensen. Since then we’ve heard several rumors that Cora and Jack had an affair. Is that true?”

  “Oh. My. You aren’t thinking Cora killed Lacy are you?”

  “I’d say that’s a pretty unlikely scenario. But if there’s bad blood between them that might still be relevant.”

  “It was certainly relevant sixteen years ago when Lacy campaigned to have Dewbury Academy closed and our children bussed to school in Sula.”

  “Right. We were wondering about that, too.” Tiff leaned forward. “My mom thought the school closed because Miss Christensen wanted to retire.”

  “Cora’s life revolved around her job. She would st
ill be working now if she could. No, that stuff about wanting to retire was the ‘official’ line but not the truth. Jack and Cora had been carrying on for more than a decade. While Jack was alive Lacy couldn’t do anything. But shortly after he died, Lacy campaigned hard to shut down Dewbury Academy.”

  “I wonder how she convinced the parents to bus their children to Sula?”

  “It wasn’t difficult. Most of us were sick of the way Cora manipulated children, making some favorites and turning others into outcasts. Cora did this with Eugene and Clayton, always favoring Clayton and making Eugene seem the fool. She pulled the same stunt with Lacy’s grandchildren, belittling poor Nikki, just because she was chubby and a bit more socially awkward than the other girls.”

  This wasn’t the first time Tiff had heard these allegations against her old teacher. Zak had complained for years that Christensen hated him. Until recently Tiff hadn’t believed him. According to Zak that was because she’d been one of the favored ones. She shot him a conciliatory glance. He responded with an “I told you so” lift of his brows.

  “Why didn’t Lacy get Cora fired when her own boys were younger?” Zak asked.

  “Oh, she wanted to. But Jack protected Cora. And he had a lot of sway in the community. If you’re wondering why Lacy didn’t leave him, the answer is simple. She was afraid to lose her sons and the ranch.”

  “So she stayed with a man who was cheating on her?” Tiff couldn’t imagine a life like that.

  “Afraid so. But Lacy was tough. She kicked Jack out of her bedroom. Where the boys were concerned, she made sure she called the shots. And she made Jack donate about one hundred acres of wetlands to Ducks Unlimited.”

  “How do you know all this?” Tiff wondered.

  “Lacy loved a good romance almost as much as she loved to talk. I knew I was going to spend at least half an hour gabbing every time she dropped into the library. Not that I minded. Lacy donated generously to the library. Besides, I liked her.”

  “Did Lacy ever talk about Jack’s accident?” Zak asked.

  “No. It must have been awful to be the one to discover his body. But she never discussed it, not even with me.”

  Zak glanced at Tiff. She knew what he wanted to ask. She gave a slight nod. They could trust Sybil.

 

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