by D'Ann Lindun
A long, red brick building on the east side of town housed Confluence’s Fighting Devils. After parking in the seniors’ lot on the west side of the brick building, she headed for the football field. Unwelcome memories flooded her as she crossed the parking lot and climbed the short set of steps. How many times had she hung out here after school, waiting for Lance to finish practice? And here she had given him the news of her pregnancy, sitting in his old truck during lunch.
She shook off her melancholy as she topped the hill. A group of boys sat eating pizza on the far side of the field. With a deep breath, Jamie hurried down the stairs and crossed the grass. As she approached, she picked out Daralee’s son with no trouble. He had her short, squat build and blond hair. He wore braces and had severe acne. Catching his eye, she pasted on her best smile. “Jeff?”
“Yeah?” He smirked. “Who wants to know?”
A couple of the boys elbowed each other and chuckled. One of the biggest said, “Talk to me, darlin’.”
She showed her badge. “I need to talk to Jeff. Alone, if you don’t mind.”
“Damn, girl. You’re killing us,” one of them said with his hand over his heart.
“Sorry.” She waited for Jeff to grab his soda, then led him far enough away his friends couldn’t overhear. “Jeff, I’m Sheriff English. I need to ask you a few questions about Tina Vallejos and Carly Shroeder.”
He shook his head. “I ain’t no snitch.”
“I’m not asking you to be,” she hastened to assure him. “I just need to know if there’s anything you can tell me that might help me find them.”
“Like I told my mom, I didn’t really hang around with them. Carly’s really shy and Tina was new.” He shuffled his big feet. “I never talked to her.”
“Did you ever see either girl with a certain boy?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Did you ever see either one of them at a party? Drinking?” She took a deep breath. “Or doing drugs?”
“I’ve seen Carly kicking back at a few parties.” He glanced past her to his friends. “Maybe throw back a beer or two.”
“What about drugs?” she pressed.
He gulped his soda. “I’ve seen Carly smoke a joint once in awhile, but nothing else. Can I go now?”
“One more thing. Did you see the girls at the county fair?”
He burped loudly. “Nope. I dropped by the dance, but nothing was going on, so I met up with my buddies and we went out to the river.”
The local party spot for kids. Where she and Lance had once partied.
“Think hard, Jeff. Was either girl at the river that night?”
“No. They weren’t there.” He shifted and she could see she wasn’t going to get further with him.
“If you think of anything, let me know, okay?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Thanks, Jeff.”
“Yeah, whatever.” He hurried away.
Jamie watched him scurry back to his friends, certain he knew more than he was willing to say.
~*~
Jamie stood and walked to the window overlooking Main Street. The town meandered at its regular lazy pace. Pickup trucks and the occasional SUV drove by and a few pedestrians went about their business. What would the people of Confluence do if they realized a predator might be moving about them right now? Looking for his next victim? A few of them might be wary, but most would chalk up the disappearances as a weird coincidence. No one who lived here wanted to believe evil walked among them.
Jamie shoved her Stetson on her head and left her office behind. It was nearly noon and her stomach grumbled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since she’d scarfed down one of Rae’s cinnamon rolls.
The Ute Diner was a couple blocks up the street, so she angled that way. A few people called out greetings as she passed by and somebody honked at her. Late September sun fell across her shoulders and she lifted her chin, enjoying the warmth across her shaded face. She breathed deep of crisp fall air to clear her head. She needed to have all her wits about her to catch this guy.
At the door of the diner, she stopped for a moment before stepping inside. The familiar odors of grease and onions greeted her and she wrinkled her nose. Her mom looked up from the table where she was busy taking an order and gave a small wave. Jamie waggled her fingers back and slid into the booth closest to the door.
Rae hustled over with a tired smile. “You eating?”
Jamie played with the boot-shaped saltshaker that had been there since she could remember. “Yeah. A grilled cheese and curly fries, please. Iced tea, too. How’s Daddy?”
“No change.” Rae hesitated a minute. “Everything okay with you?”
Although she would’ve loved to share her fears, let Rae soothe them away like she had when Jamie was a child, she couldn’t. No one could. An image of Austin’s broad shoulders filled her mind and she blinked the idea away. Leaning on him in any way, other than professionally, was the last thing she would do. She smiled. “Sure, Mom. I’ll try to visit Daddy soon.”
“He’d like that, but he’s still comatose. He understands work comes first.” Rae blinked hard and spun toward the kitchen. “I’ll get this order turned in.”
Someone dropped a few coins in the old-fashioned jukebox by the back wall and an upbeat country tune filled the air.
Still holding the saltshaker, Jamie tried to let the tension ease out of her shoulders.
CHAPTER THREE
Deputy Tad Carver parked in front of the cafe, stewing. Was Jamie jerking their chains? Did she know more than she was letting on? Could she have any idea of who had actually taken the girls?
He lifted his Stetson and wiped his forehead with his arm. It was too damn hot for September. Maybe he’d pop into the Ute Diner for a cold drink. A hamburger sounded good, too.
He noticed a dark blue pickup and walked up to his open window. “Hola, amigo.”
“Hey.” Alejandro Vasquez turned off the radio. “What’s new?”
“The new sheriff has us working on the missing girls’ case. Not having much luck, though.”
Alejandro searched his face. “That’s not good.”
“Keep your family close.” Carver looked past Alejandro at his wife to their children. “Shit’s coming down.”
Eva-Maria shot a look over her shoulder at the three little girls in the back seat, then frowned his direction. “Tad, please.”
“Sorry,” he said. “Just keep your eyes open.”
Alejandro winked at his wife before opening the door. They moved to the back of his pickup. The Mexican’s eyes turned mean. “Don’t talk about your business in front of my wife or kids like that ever again.”
“Sorry,” Tad muttered.
“Excuse me.” January Devlin, a tall girl with ice blonde hair falling past her waist, slipped between them.
For a minute, they watched her walk down the street and open the door to her establishment. A local celebrity, she’d once been a supermodel. When she retired, she moved to the tiny town of Confluence and opened a bookstore. Along with books, she sold crystals and incense and all kinds of oddball shit. It was rumored she was a Wiccan priestess and held ceremonies in her back room.
Alejandro looked away first and brought the conversation back around. “Beautiful woman.”
“Yeah.” Tad hooked his thumbs in his belt and pulled up his pants. “I’m working on her.”
“Bueno.” Alejandro took a few steps away before glancing over his shoulder. “Stay safe, amigo.”
“Yeah.” A chill skittered down Tad’s back as he entered the café. For a moment, he stood in the door letting his eyes adjust to the change in light. At a little after one p.m., the eatery was mostly empty. Except for the new sheriff. Damn it. Of all the people he didn’t want to see, it was her. She motioned him over and he reluctantly headed her way.
When he reached her table, she gestured to the seat across from her. “Take a load off.”
Because he couldn’t think of an e
xcuse fast enough, he complied. “Thought I’d get a bite.”
“Me, too.” Jamie indicated her half-eaten meal. “I can’t concentrate on anything but these girls. Did you learn anything new?”
A middle-aged woman wearing glasses and a friendly smile approached and asked if he were ready to order.
He gave his order, then shook his head. “No. You?”
She hesitated just long enough to let him know she was holding something back. “No.”
His irritation with her grew. She had no business being sheriff. Wet behind the ears, untried. Just because her old man ran things didn’t mean she could do the job. Big Jim had been shut up easily enough. She would be, too, if she got to close to things that were none of her business.
Why hadn’t Big Jim appointed one of them? Of the choices available, Benny was the obvious pick. None of the rest of them, except Jinx, was qualified. Benny had at least been a cop for more than a few months. He’d moved to Confluence the second he learned there was an opening in the sheriff’s office. Unlike Jamie, who had practically no qualifications.
“Did you know that man in the blue pickup?”
“Just in passing.” The lie slid off his tongue as easy as snow off a hot roof.
“You were talking to him,” she pressed. “Just now.”
“Just said hey and chatted about the weather.” The waitress placed his order in front of him and the mouth-watering aroma of a fresh hamburger and French fries floated up to him. “Thanks.”
The sheriff clearly didn’t believe him. “That was Alejandro Vasquez,” she said. “Leave him alone. There’s been a lot of harassment of Mexican-Americans in the southwest. I don’t want it to happen in this town.”
For a minute, he quit chewing and stared at her. “I was just saying hi.”
She narrowed her blue eyes at him. “I don’t want him to have any reason to feel bugged by us.”
Tad was surprised by the vehemence in her voice. He shrugged. “Whatever you say, Jamie.”
“I need to check in with the others and see what they learned.” She slid out of the booth. “I’m going back to the office. What do you plan to do next?”
“Keep digging.”
“Good.” She dropped a bill on the table. “Let me know if you hit pay dirt.”
CHAPTER FOUR
January Devlin unlocked the front door of her shop and stepped into the refreshing coolness. Indian summer was gasping its last breath and the weather was extra warm for September. Her skin prickled with unease, but the familiar scents of sage and lavender soothed her frayed nerves. Moving to the rear of her shop, she opened the little fridge behind the counter and pulled out a pitcher of lemon tea. After pouring a glass, she wandered around the bookstore, her skin still all goosebumpy.
Her mind went to the two men who she had just passed on the street. She knew Tad Carver and his friend had watched her while she walked down the street. She was used to men staring at her— nearly six feet tall and waist-length hair the color of ice—she had attracted attention from professional athletes to movie stars to a Saudi prince. Once upon a time, she had liked the attention of men as much as the next woman.
A lifetime ago—before the stalker who stole her career and nearly her life.
She should feel comforted when a cop was around, but something about Tad Carver creeped her out. He’d chatted with her a couple of times, and on both instances, she thought he had more than passing time on his mind, although he had not done or said anything inappropriate. Drawing a finger across a stack of books, she wondered what about the man bugged her so much. She had never rejected him; he had never asked her out. As far as she knew, she had not offended him in any way.
It was the coldness in his eyes, she supposed, that gave her the impression of hate. Instead of giving her the manly appreciation she was accustomed to, he seemed to loathe her. He reminded her of him.
She shivered.
She had never spoken to Dominic Perdotti before he fancied them in love. He’d seen her photos in a swimsuit edition of a sports magazine, found out who represented her, and tracked her comings and goings from there. He wouldn’t take no for an answer—sending flowers, candy and expensive gifts until she agreed to a date. At first, he had been wonderful, taking her to the ballet, the opera and even a few Knicks games.
Convincing her to go on an extended boating vacation with him had been all too easy.
She sipped her tea and shuddered.
Once upon the open sea, his easy charm turned into beatings and making her perform humiliating acts she couldn’t burn from her memory. January touched the scar on the back of her head. Most people didn’t know it was there, hidden by her hair, but she found it instantly. The rough edge was a constant reminder of what she’d survived.
Her friends urged her to go undercover in Paris, Sydney or Milan, but January had opted to hide in plain sight in a very out of the way place—Confluence, Colorado. Somewhere she prayed Dominic would never think to look for her. She hadn’t dyed her hair or changed her name. Doing so was pointless. If Dominic wanted her bad enough, he’d find her no matter what she did.
Two years later, running a bookstore in a town so small it barely had a zip code, she had finally relaxed enough to feel safe in her store, her home and in town. She found she missed modeling less than she’d expected. Always interested in Paganism, she’d fully embraced the religion and it had brought her a great deal of peace.
Lately, though, her happiness had been dimmed by the odd disappearances of four women. She didn’t know any of them well, but Confluence was small enough that she’d bumped into Monique Ayers a few times when the woman dropped off a package. Maybe she’d stayed long enough. Maybe time to move on had come. Find another small town to burrow into.
The door opened, drawing her back to the present.
January pasted on her best smile. “Hi, how can I help you?”
~*~
Jamie removed her Stetson and her ponytail holder. She ran her fingers through her hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders. She unbuckled her shoulder holster and then unbuttoned her brown sheriff uniform top and slid it off, glad for the plain white tank she wore underneath. With her bra on underneath, it was decent enough.
Not sexy.
Where had that come from?
Probably her trip to the high school. Unease had plagued her all day. She had no idea why, although her trip to the high school had stirred up unwanted memories of Lance. He was far in her past. Just a teenage love affair that had resulted in a child he wanted no part of.
He had been a kid unwilling to raise a child.
What about Austin?
Would he stay or run if that had been him in Lance’s boots?
Where had that come from? Sure he was sexy enough to make a nun change her ways, but he was here to work, nothing more. And so was she. Big Jim depended on her, and so did the lives of four women.
She dropped her uniform on the bathroom floor and walked into her bedroom. She changed into a comfortable pair of jeans with a hole in the left knee and a sleeveless T-shirt. Leaving her feet bare, she joined Dani in the living room where the little girl played with her plastic horses on the floor.
“You hungry, baby?” Jamie sank into a favorite chair by the front window and curled her aching feet under her. “I think spaghetti sounds good. How ’bout you?”
Dani stopped playing long enough to look up, her blue eyes shining with enthusiasm. “Yummy, Mommy.”
Jamie’s heart caught for a moment at the sight of her daughter. They looked so much alike with pale blonde hair and dark blue eyes. There wasn’t much of Lance in the child he’d created, for which Jamie was grateful. The less she thought about him, the better. He’d been all too willing to sign away his rights. Something that still made Jamie’s stomach clench with anger, even all these years later. Good riddance to the deadbeat. Getting pregnant at seventeen, giving birth alone and making the decision to keep her baby made her grow up fast.
Det
ermined not to go down that bumpy road tonight, Jamie stood and wandered into the kitchen. If she weren’t a mom, she would be all too happy to drop in at the Ute cafe for every meal. With a sigh, she pulled the ingredients for spaghetti out of the cupboard and simple green salad fixings out of the fridge. She opened the back door and latched the screen door. Their mutt, Hammer, flopped down outside, always on guard.
Their house sat on the western edge of the English ranch overlooking Confluence. Her folks lived in town now, and Jamie had taken over their old place. There had been little time to leave her job in Chipeta, move and settle into her childhood home.
A warm late summer breeze drifted inside and she moved around her small, tidy kitchen, enjoying the mundane chores of an ordinary evening. She poured a glass of tea and sipped her beverage. From the living room, Dani chattered to her toys. If Jamie had gotten home a little earlier, they could have gone for a ride, but by the time they ate dinner and Dani bathed, it would be too late. Maybe she could get away for a few hours this weekend. If she could manage a break, they’d take a picnic and ride up to the hills.
She took another drink and stared out the kitchen window at the San Juan Mountains. Once again, her thoughts turned toward the missing women. Were they out there somewhere? Had the killer taken them far away to hide the bodies? Were there bodies?
A shiver rippled up her spine. She was only five years older than Tina and Carly. Monique and Rosie were close to her own age. None of them thirty yet. Hell, only Rosie was over twenty-five.
The spaghetti boiled and the sauce simmered, filling the air with the tantalizing aroma of garlic and tomatoes. Her stomach grumbled.
After placing everything on the table, she called Dani. “Come here, baby.”
Dani skipped into the kitchen, carrying a toy horse under each arm. “Smells good, Mommy.”
“Thank you. Are you washed up?” Jamie inspected her daughter. A smudge of dirt colored one cheek. “I see you’re not. Go wash your face and hands, please.”