Confessing to the Cowboy

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Confessing to the Cowboy Page 6

by Carla Cassidy


  Over the past eight years had she mentioned anything that personal to anyone? She didn’t think so, but how could anyone in Grady Gulch know that thirteen years ago on November 10 she’d married a monster named Jason McKnight. Who in town might know about her past? Who in Grady Gulch might know what she had done?

  * * *

  He wished he could have been there when she’d opened up the card. He wished he could have seen the stunned horror wash across her pretty features as she realized what it was, what it meant.

  Everyone in town loved Mary Mathis...everyone but him. He hated her. Everyone thought she was good and kind, but she wasn’t. She was a selfish bitch who only pretended there was goodness in her heart.

  The Waitress Waster, that’s who he considered himself to be, a cheesy name for a serial killer, but he’d claimed it as his own. He only wished he’d been present each time that Mary had learned that one of her precious waitresses had been killed.

  He’d wanted to see her grief in the dimming of the brightness of her blue eyes, in the tremble of her lush lower lip. By now she had to realize that the murders were all related and that they were all aimed at the place she called home, at her personally.

  He hoped her heart beat with frantic fear each time she got into bed to sleep. He hoped she feared everyone around her, unsure where danger might arise.

  Foreplay, that’s what the dead waitresses had been to him...a prelude to the big event and of course the big event was the destruction of the café and all that Mary loved, the final big event would be the utter destruction of Mary Mathis.

  Chapter 4

  Dorothy Blake’s funeral took place on Friday morning at eleven o’clock. The weather provided an appropriate setting for the somber affair with gray low-hanging clouds, blustery wind and frigid temperatures. It was as if nature wasn’t any happier about the event than the people attending.

  Cameron tugged his jacket collar up closer against his neck as he perused the crowd...and it was a big one. It appeared as if nearly everyone in the small town had turned out despite the nasty, wintry day. It didn’t help that the Grady Gulch cemetery was on a rise, with few trees to break the wind gusts.

  His men were all stationed around the area, also keeping an eye on the people attending. They were looking for somebody who shouldn’t be here, somebody expressing inappropriate actions or emotions, anything suspicious that might make them take a second look.

  Serial killers often attended the funerals of their victims or returned to the cemetery alone afterward to relive the kill in his mind. They also sometimes worked their way into the center of the investigation, secretly enjoying their role as volunteer avenger in a death they’d committed.

  Cameron had already assigned Deputy Brooks to do surveillance on the three grave sites of the victims during the night and Deputy John Mills would take the daytime hours.

  He saw Mary standing next to Lynette Shivers in the middle of the crowd. She always closed down the café during funerals and then reopened for anyone who might need food and the comfort of friends afterward.

  Mary was dressed in a pair of black dress slacks and a black winter coat. Although her features were stoic, she had an arm around Lynette, who was openly weeping.

  He directed his gaze to Sarah Blake, Dorothy’s younger sister. She stood with her back stiff, her eyes dry as the minister began the service. Cameron had found her to be a sour woman who’d had little nice to say about her older sister. All Sarah had wanted was to get the funeral over with as quickly as possible so she could get back to her own life.

  She was leaving town the minute the service was over. Good riddance, Cameron thought wryly. She’d had nothing to offer to help in any way, had confessed that the two sisters had fallen out years ago and had maintained only phone contact once a year at Christmastime since the falling-out.

  Cameron couldn’t help but think of his brother, Bobby, and his heart ached with loss. Bobby had been two years younger than Cameron and the brothers had been close. Bobby was one of those people who could light up a room, who, no matter what your mood, could make you laugh.

  Bobby had loved the ranch work but had understood that the ranch wasn’t Cameron’s calling. Ten years ago when Cameron had decided to run for sheriff, Bobby had been his biggest supporter. Cameron couldn’t imagine anything driving a wedge between him and his brother. Only death had been a powerful enough force to rob Cameron of that precious relationship.

  He forced his concentration back to the crowd, this time trying to discern who wasn’t in attendance. Who wasn’t here was just as important as who was as far as he was concerned.

  One person notably missing from the crowd was Thomas Manning, the loner who had moved to town months ago. Cameron frowned trying to remember if the man had attended any of the funerals of the victims. He didn’t think so. It might mean something, it might mean nothing.

  A sigh of frustration escaped Cameron’s lips. A break, they just needed some kind of a damned break. They’d spent the past two days chasing down all the businesses that helped keep the café running smoothly. Nothing had come from any of those interviews.

  As Ben Temple sidled up next to him, he gave his deputy a grim nod. “Nothing suspicious that I can see so far. What about you?”

  “Nada,” Ben replied. “Other than the fact that Dorothy’s sister appears eager to dash, nobody looks out of the ordinary.” Ben raised his collar as a cold gust of wind swept through where they stood.

  “You know, I thought of something last night. A couple of months ago I was in the café when Denver Walton asked Mary for a job and she turned him down.” Ben kept his voice low as the minister droned on.

  Cameron whipped his head around to look at Ben. “How did Denver take it?”

  “Not real well as I remember. He stormed out of the café and told her he wouldn’t eat in her joint again. Of course he was back the next day for breakfast acting as if nothing had happened.”

  Cameron looked at Mary, then over to where Denver stood alone at the edge of the crowd. “I wonder why Mary didn’t mention that to me?”

  “Probably for the same reason I’m just now telling you. She just didn’t think about it as any big deal,” Ben replied and then drifted away from Cameron’s side.

  Cameron looked back at Denver Walton. For the past six months or so he was rarely seen without Madison Billings at his side. Maddy was a beautiful blonde from a well-to-do family who also had a snarky side that made her far less beautiful once you got to know her.

  She and Denver had been an item until about a month ago when the two had broken up for reasons unknown. Funny, Denver was a native of Grady Gulch and about Cameron’s age, but Cameron didn’t know much about the man. They hadn’t run in the same crowd when growing up, and Cameron had no idea how Denver made a living other than spending Maddy’s money.

  Definitely Denver Walton deserved a closer look. As did Maddy, he thought, reminding himself that there was nothing to positively indicate the killer was male.

  Denver was a flirt and it didn’t matter if the waitress serving him was twenty or sixty, he used his considerable charm on all of them. Was it possible that Maddy had somehow taken offense to Denver’s behavior with the waitresses at the café?

  On the surface it seemed utterly ridiculous, but at this point Cameron was willing to look at everything and everyone in an attempt to make sense. Besides, he’d seen Maddy go off like firecracker lit by jealousy. It hadn’t been a pretty sight.

  The minister finally finished and the crowd began to slowly disperse. Cameron walked over to Sarah Blake and gave her his final condolences.

  “I’ve placed all the details of whatever estate there is in the hands of Barney Kaufman,” she said as he walked her to her rental car. Barney was a local lawyer. “So I won’t be visiting your town again, but I thank you for your kindness to me while I’ve been here.” She said the words in a tone that lacked any real depth of emotion.

  “I wish you a safe trip home,” Camero
n replied.

  “And I wish you a successful investigation,” she returned. For just a moment a faint edge of sadness darkened her eyes. “Dorothy and I had little in common, but she deserves her killer being brought to justice.”

  “I intend to do just that,” Cameron replied.

  By the time he watched her rental car leave the cemetery that set on the north side of town, everyone else had gone except for his deputies on duty.

  “Larry, I want you to go back to the office and find out everything you can about Denver Walton and Maddy Billings,” Cameron said. “Ben, I want you to dig around in Thomas Manning’s past. Find out where he came from before he arrived here, anything you can discover about his personal life. The rest of you hit the streets, keep your nose to the ground and find something that will move us forward. I’ll be at the café should anything come up.”

  As Cameron headed to his car he fought the weight of the murders that threatened to slump his shoulders in defeat, break his back in ultimate surrender. But this was the job he’d chosen, this was what he loved doing, and he wouldn’t be broken by some killer frightening his town.

  Sooner or later a mistake would be made. Sooner or later he and his men would stumble on something that would take down the killer. He just hoped like hell it was sooner than later. The last thing he wanted was another dead body on his watch. There had been enough death here already to last a lifetime.

  * * *

  By the time he arrived at the café the place was hopping. Both Rusty and Junior were manning the kitchen and Mary and three waitresses were working the floor.

  He knew he wouldn’t have a chance to speak with Mary until the place quieted so he took a seat at a table for two in the corner and ordered a cup of coffee from Lynette Shiver when she arrived to attend to him.

  Once she’d served him he settled back in his chair, knowing that he wouldn’t be alone for long. Over the next two hours worried women stopped by his table for words of reassurance, men paused to give him support or to ask questions about the ongoing investigation. People simply stopped to mention something about Dorothy, an inconsequential fact that felt like a pathetic attempt to honor the woman who had been killed.

  By the time Matt came through the door after school, most of the crowd had drifted away, heading back to their homes where they believed they were safe, that nothing like what had happened to Dorothy would ever happen to them.

  Matt spied Cameron and beelined to his table, a wide smile on his boyish features. “Hey, Sheriff,” he said as he slipped into the chair opposite Cameron.

  “Hey, Matt,” Cameron replied. “How was school?”

  “Good.” Matt shrugged off his coat and hung it on the back of his chair. “The most awesome part of the whole day was when Nathan Buckley went up to the teacher to tell her he didn’t feel good and he threw up right on her shoes.” Matt laughed and then slapped a hand over his mouth. “I know it’s not nice to laugh, but it was totally gross and awesome at the same time.”

  Cameron grinned and remembered a time when he would have thought such a thing both gross and awesome. They smiled as Mary approached the table. “Hey there, my favorite son,” she said as she ruffled Matt’s blond hair.

  “Hey there, my favorite mom,” he replied with a grin.

  “You want a snack?” she asked Matt, who nodded affirmatively, and then she looked at Cameron. “Can I bring you something? You’ve done nothing but fill up on coffee for the past couple of hours.”

  It was pathetic, that the fact that she’d even noticed what he’d been drinking or eating during the past couple of hours made his heart beat a tad bit faster. “Actually, give me whatever snack you’re getting for Matt.” He could tell his words pleased Matt.

  “Two cowboy snackers coming right up,” Mary said and left the table. Cameron turned his attention back to Matt. “So, what else is going on with you? You keeping your grades up? Staying out of trouble?”

  “For sure,” Matt replied. “I can’t be a sheriff when I grow up if get into any trouble now. Besides, Mom would kill me. Right now I’m trying to figure out what I want to do for my birthday tomorrow.”

  “Birthday? I didn’t realize tomorrow was a big day for you. Are you going to have a party? Invite all of your friends?”

  Matt frowned. “That’s kinda babyish. I know I want to go to Evanston and eat at the Dragon Wok restaurant. That’s me and Mom’s favorite place to eat besides here, but I want to do something else, too. I just don’t know what.”

  “You have a pair of ice skates?” Cameron asked, knowing that lots of the kids owned skates for winter skating on local ponds. Matt nodded and Cameron continued, “This cold weather has made the pond out at my place perfect for skating. I can probably dig out my old skates from somewhere in the house. I used to be pretty good on the ice.”

  “That would be awesome!” Matt exclaimed, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement.

  “What would be awesome?” Mary asked as she arrived back at their table with two plates containing slices of cheese and pepperoni, chunks of summer sausage and carrot and celery sticks with a small cup of ranch dipping sauce.

  “Sheriff Evans says for my birthday tomorrow we can come out to his place and skate on his pond, then go into Evanston and eat at the Dragon Wok. That’s exactly what I want to do for my birthday,” Matt exclaimed with obvious happiness.

  Mary’s face didn’t hold the same expression. “Oh, Matt, honey, Sheriff Evans is in the middle of a big investigation. I’m sure he doesn’t have the time to...”

  “To take off for an afternoon?” Cameron said, not letting her finish. “To be honest, it sounds like just what I need, a little downtime to help me keep my sanity. I’ve been working crazy-long hours for the last couple of months and particularly in the last week. I’d love to spend some time with Matt and you for his birthday.”

  “Oh...I don’t know...” Mary was obviously not feeling the same eagerness he was.

  “Please, Mom. It will be so much fun,” Matt pleaded, his hands clasped together before him as if asking an angel to answer his prayer.

  Mary looked at her son’s face and then shrugged and smiled. “All right, then I guess that’s what we’re doing for your birthday.” She looked at Cameron. “We’ll talk about the arrangements later.”

  As she returned to the kitchen Cameron and Matt ate their snacks, talking about ice skating and favorite Chinese food. When they were finished, Matt excused himself to find his mother. “Tell your mom when she gets a chance I still need to talk to her,” he told Matt just before he scurried away.

  Cameron wanted to find out about the exchange between Mary and Denver Walton. It was about fifteen minutes later that she returned to the table where he sat.

  “Matt said you still needed to talk to me,” she said as she sat in the chair her son had recently vacated. “Is this about tomorrow’s plans?”

  “No, although why don’t you plan on being around my place at two. We’ll skate for a couple of hours and then head into Evanston for dinner. I wanted to ask you about Denver Walton.”

  She frowned. “Denver? What about him?”

  “Ben told me that a month or so ago Denver came in here asking about a job and got a bit huffy with you when you told him no.”

  Her eyes lit up with memory. “That’s right, I’d forgotten all about it. But we all know Denver has more than a little bit of a temper. He cussed me out, told me he was never going to eat here again, then was back the next day for breakfast as if nothing had happened.” Her brow crinkled with a frown. “Why? Is there some evidence that Denver had something to do with the murders?”

  “No, nothing like that. But after Ben talked to me I realized I don’t know that much about Denver. What do you know about him?”

  Mary shrugged and once again a tiny frown danced across her forehead, a frown Cameron would like to erase by running his fingers across it. He knew without a doubt that her skin would be soft and silky to the touch.

  “To be
honest, I’m not sure what Denver does for a living. I just assumed he did a little ranching and if he came up short for anything Maddy stepped in with her wallet.”

  “But Maddy isn’t around anymore.”

  Mary smiled ruefully. “You know how those two have been, off again, on again. They just happen to be off right now, but I imagine it won’t be long before they’re back together again. Apparently he’s invited Lynette on a date for this weekend. I was going to warn her before she went out with him not to get her heart involved with him.”

  Her smiled faded. “But I have to say since he and Maddy broke up, Denver doesn’t seem to be hurting for money and he’s always been a big flirt with the waitresses. He’s driving a brand-new decked-out truck, so he must be working someplace and trying to move on from Maddy.”

  “I don’t know about his social life but I intend to find out where he’s working and a little more about his life in general.”

  “You know, you really don’t have to indulge Matt for his birthday. I know how busy you are and everything that you have on your shoulders right now.” She was giving him room to wiggle out of their plans, but he had no desire to back out.

  “I think a few hours away from the investigation will be good for me. And I imagine you could use a break from this place, as well.” He wished she didn’t look slightly stressed by the idea of spending time with him. “Just a couple of hours, Mary...for Matt...for his birthday.”

  “Of course,” she smiled at him but he could tell it was slightly forced. “Was there anything else you wanted right now? I really need to get back into the kitchen.” She rose from the chair, poised to run.

  “We’re good for now. I’ll see you tomorrow for the big birthday celebration.”

  “Okay... I’m looking forward to it.” For just a moment there was a vulnerable wistfulness in her eyes, an emotion that gave him the hope that there might be a chance for something to develop between them. And then she was gone, leaving behind only the faint whisper of her perfume as she raced away from the table.

 

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