It was impossible to picture perky Calista working in this place even part-time. Harder still to believe she’d described her boss as quirky weird and not flat-out eccentric in a bad way. There was a TV series about hoarders that was truly frightening. She’d even seen an episode of a cop series where a body of someone who’d disappeared was discovered under a pile of junk. Usually a bad odor preceded the discovery. She sniffed and fortunately didn’t smell anything but musty dust that made her want to cough.
Behind her a man cleared his throat and she whirled around, startled. She had been so caught up in the clutter that she hadn’t noticed anyone else there.
He was behind a high wooden counter with a desk lamp illuminating his grizzled old face. His hair was white and icy blue eyes stared at her. Stranger yet, he didn’t say anything. No “May I help you?” No “Merry Christmas.” And no “Welcome to The Tattered Saddle, my name is…”
Apparently Rose was going to have to break the awkward silence. “Hi. You’re Jasper Fowler.”
“Yup.”
She glanced nervously and held herself still, fearing the slightest vibration could start a chain reaction resulting in her getting buried and crushed under stuff or choked to death by the dust.
“You have an interesting variety of collectibles here.”
“All old,” he agreed. “Don’t make stuff like they used to.”
“Nope.” She lifted a cream-colored ceramic vase with a three-dimensional pink rose. It was actually, surprisingly, quite lovely. “But they make computers now that they didn’t make way back when.”
“Hate them damn electronic gizmos.”
From what she’d learned, Arthur Swinton was old, too, and if he shared the same computer phobia, it could explain the paper trail she and her friends had found. But as Bo had said, not a good idea to jump to conclusions. Still, paperwork was misplaced all the time. That file cabinet of old records could have been overlooked for years if the mayor hadn’t tasked them with clearing it all out. And that’s why she was here. Put it all to rest. Find out if there was a legitimate reason for those bank drafts. But blurting out a question didn’t seem the best way to approach this standoffish man and get answers.
“How much is this vase? I don’t see a price on it.”
He came around the counter and took it from her. His hands looked surprisingly strong. “Ten dollars.”
“I think I’ll take it.”
“Okay.” He walked back to the counter but didn’t go around. “Cash or check?”
“Do you mind if I browse? I have to get a couple of last-minute gifts for people who are really hard to buy for.”
“Suit yourself.”
Interesting sales technique, she thought.
Rose found a path of sorts through the maze and squeezed through furniture and free-standing shelves trying not to bump or break anything. She could hardly wait to see Austin, but if she was going to put this guy at ease and get him to talk, moving too fast wasn’t a good idea. She glanced over her shoulder at his wrinkled, unsmiling face and suppressed a bad feeling. Quirky weird, she reminded herself.
That didn’t reassure her much as she moved farther into the dark, crowded interior and it felt more like a little shop of horrors.
Toward the back there was a glass case with a lighted interior. Inside there were all kinds of weapons, different sizes and shapes. On a bed of black velvet, big guns and little ones were carefully arranged. Also there were knives with smooth blades and some serrated. Still another was wide, sharp and lethal-looking. All of them were well taken care of and there was no untidiness or disorder here. This case was an anomaly compared with the chaos everywhere else.
She pretended interest and he was suddenly there, staring with pride at his collection.
“These look pretty old,” she said.
“Older than me and that’s sayin’ something.”
She met his icy gaze and shivered. “I’m Rose Traub, by the way.”
“Any relation to DJ Traub?”
Maybe Fowler knew DJ and it would be sort of a bonding moment to lead into the conversation she wanted to have. “He’s my cousin.”
Cold eyes turned even colder. “I s’pose you’re thick with all them Cliftons and Cates.”
“They’re friends, yes.” She wasn’t feeling the bonding. “They’re part of the reason I moved here from Texas. I’ve only lived in Thunder Canyon for a couple months now.”
Clearly this man made her nervous because she was nattering away like a moron. It was time to narrow her focus and get to the point. Her hand shook a little as she slid it into her pocket and curved her fingers around the cell phone there.
“Have you lived here long, Mr. Fowler?”
“Long time,” he echoed, and there was a faraway look in his eyes. “There’s a story going around that I drove my truck cross country with an empty coffin in the back.”
Was he trying to creep her out? If so, it was working. “I hadn’t actually heard that rumor.” And she wished she hadn’t heard it now. “Is it true?”
His only answer was a smile that was more grimace than anything else and not very reassuring.
“Thunder Canyon is a great town,” she said.
“Used to be,” he answered. “Way back when it was smaller. Before all the new things took over. Won’t never understand why folks think old is no good. Don’t like that it can’t ever be the way it was.”
“So,” she said, drawing out the word, “I bet you like Frontier Days. Probably one of your favorite town festivals.”
“One’s the same as the next, if you ask me.”
She looked at the array of weapons in the case again. “I just thought with your avid interest in antiques it would be a good fit with an event bringing in tourists to remember the good old days. The Wild West that Thunder Canyon once was.”
“It’s a day like any other.” There was suddenly a glint of suspicion in his eyes. “You always this nosy?”
“Yeah, but I prefer to think of it as friendly.”
“Nope.” He didn’t take his eyes off her. “Nosy. You got a point to make?”
“Yes.” And a lesson learned: Never underestimate someone older than dirt. “I was wondering if former mayor Arthur Swinton paid you for the use of your collection in displays during Frontier Days. Or maybe he hired you to consult on the authenticity of some of the programs presented at the festival.”
“Why would you think that?” He slid the glass door of the case open.
“No reason. Just curious. Nosy, I guess, like you said.”
Rose couldn’t look away from his eyes and knew he’d gone from weird to scary at the mention of Arthur Swinton. And she was officially scared when Fowler pulled a shiny old gun out and pointed it at her chest.
“It’s loaded,” he said. “And it works. Because I appreciate and take very good care of old things. Now, I’ll ask again. Why do you think Arthur Swinton paid me to do anything?”
“Please put that gun away.” Rose’s heart was hammering so hard she was afraid it would jump out of her chest.
“First you tell me what you know.”
She couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like something out of a TV show and always happened to someone else. Not you, Rose thought. But how many murders made the news? How many times had she heard of someone killed by a friend, family member or acquaintance?
“I don’t know anything.” Lying seemed best under the circumstances.
Without taking the gun off her for a second, Fowler came out from behind the glass case and stood in front of her. “Then why are you asking questions about me and Swinton?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask who was being nosy now, but the gun was a big clue that if he’d ever had a sense of humor, that had changed when she brought up the former mayor.
“We found a file with bank drafts signed by Arthur Swinton to you.”
“So who sent you?”
“No one. We just thought there could be a reason
able explanation.” Because he was holding a loaded weapon on her, that seemed unlikely.
“Who’s we?”
“Jeannette Williams. Calista Clifton. And me.” She thought for a moment and came up with another name that was more official and might make him lower the weapon. “Mayor Clifton knows, too.”
“I’m real sorry to hear that.” His voice was deadly calm.
So many things went through her mind. Promise him she wouldn’t tell anyone. Pretend that she wasn’t aware what she’d found was proof that something illegal had transpired between the two men. Beg him to let her go to Austin because she so desperately wanted to feel his arms around her. But none of that came out of her mouth.
Instead she said, “What are you planning to do?”
“You and I are going for a little ride. If you try to pull any crap, I’ll shoot you. Don’t think I won’t.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“That’s for me to know. Just move, slow and easy. Hands where I can see them.”
It never occurred to Rose that he was bluffing. Clearly he was a dangerous man, and if not deranged, at the very least he was desperate. Desperate men hurt people.
Surely the vibrations from the shaking inside her would start a chain reaction that toppled glass, cast iron pots and books down on them. She hoped anyway, but it didn’t happen.
With the pistol pressed into her back, Fowler forced her toward the rear door. She remembered Austin insisting on walking with her from ROOTS back to her town hall office at night. She’d teased him about his gallantry. This is Thunder Canyon. What could happen?
She’d give anything not to know the answer to that question. More than that, with all her heart she wished Austin was here now.
Rose wasn’t sure when she’d learned to trust him so completely, but she knew in her heart that if Austin were here, he would know what to do. He would get her out of this.
But he didn’t even know where she was.
Austin looked at his watch again. Rose was late.
Glancing around at the family-style picnic tables and the customers filling them, he noted that the Rib Shack was surprisingly crowded tonight. Maybe last-minute shoppers didn’t want to go home and cook. Enough of that coming on Christmas Eve and the day after. Could be out-of-towners were spending the holidays at the resort and eating here. Whatever the reason, it was good to see DJ’s place hopping again after all the weird stuff that had happened to put a dent in business.
From Austin’s perspective in a booth against the wall, the place was busy and there were a lot of people in here, just like the last time he’d been stood up.
How many times could a smart guy pull a boneheaded move and still be considered smart? The call to Rose wasn’t a reasoned-out engineering problem; it had come from the gut. He couldn’t stand another second of not seeing her. Talking with Angie had simply brought those feelings to the surface. He didn’t blame his sister for the problems with Rose. Her part in it had just put everything out there so they could deal with it. Now he was finished letting Rose push him away.
When she’d answered her phone, Austin swore she was happy to hear from him. He’d been sure that her sassy retort about not telling him no meant she was as eager to see him as he was to see her.
But it was possible she’d changed her mind. It had happened after he’d made love to her. She’d been all fire and passion in his arms one minute and the next she’d gone all skittish on him. Maybe she was thinking too much. He should have picked her up at work.
He was turning his water glass and studying the rings it left on the wooden table when someone stopped next to him.
“Austin?”
He looked up and saw Zane Gunther and his fiancée, Jeannette Williams. “Hi, you two.”
“It’s good to see you. I haven’t had a chance to stop by ROOTS for a while,” Zane said.
“He’s been rehearsing like a maniac for the Christmas Day concert,” Jeannette explained.
The singer shrugged. “This is by far the most important thing I’ve ever done professionally. It’s not just about me.”
“The foundation is a good cause.” Austin had just been thinking about his conversation with Angie at the teen hangout. “Actually ROOTS hasn’t been very busy. Hopefully that means the kids are with family and friends doing fun stuff.”
“That’s important,” Jeannette agreed. “Tonight I got a babysitter for my little guy and convinced my big guy to take the night off so we could have a dinner date.”
“Don’t let me stand in the way of romance.” Austin did his best to sound sincere and hide the anger and bitterness coursing through him. He’d fully expected to be doing his own romantic thing by now. “You two go enjoy yourselves.”
“Are you waiting for someone?” Jeannette asked.
“I think what I’m doing is giving history a chance to repeat itself.” He noticed the blank expressions on the couple’s faces and realized neither of them had lived in Thunder Canyon when he got so publicly dumped.
Jeannette looked at Zane and by some silent form of couple communication they sat down across from him. “We’ll keep you company.”
Zane slid him a look, sympathy from one man to another. “Sorry, Austin. You opened the door to this. No way she’s not getting the whole story out of you.”
At that moment a waitress stopped by and took their drink orders, then dropped menus on the table. Austin wished he already had his beer because he knew Zane was right.
As it turned out, telling the details of the public proposal that had happened in this very place was like relating an anecdote without any power over him. He told them about asking Rachel to marry him, how she took the ring and then skipped town without a word. He knew if Rose were sitting beside him the story would make him laugh now.
“So that’s my sad little tale. Except that after my heart got stomped to smithereens, both my sisters and pretty much all my friends told me that they never liked her.”
“Nice,” Zane said drily.
The waitress returned with beers for the men and a glass of white wine for Jeannette.
When they were alone Austin said, “It would have been helpful if they’d shared that with me before the whole town knew I’d asked her to marry me.”
“You wouldn’t have listened to anyone,” Zane said. He gazed at Jeannette, love shining in his eyes. “Guys can be stubborn that way sometimes.”
“Hard to believe, right?” Jeannette grinned.
“I hate to break this to you, but that trait isn’t exclusive to men.” Austin took a sip of his beer.
“You’re talking about Rose.” It wasn’t a question and at his look Jeannette shrugged. “We work together. We talk. It just happens.”
“Like a law of physics,” Austin guessed. He shrugged and said, “I have two sisters.”
“For what it’s worth, Rose told us—”
“Us?” Austin stared at her.
“Calista and me. We had to keep ourselves entertained during a tedious and boring job.” Jeannette toyed with her wineglass. “Anyway, she mentioned why she’d been holding back with you. The whole age thing. But I think she’s starting to come around.”
Austin had thought so too when she’d agreed to meet him, but now she was really late and it was clear that she wasn’t coming. Definitely déjà vu all over again, but this time was different because he was different. Humiliation didn’t even register and last time that had been the worst. Not now. He felt something he’d never felt before. Rose’s rejection took the pain clear down to his soul because this time he was in love.
He loved Rose and knew he’d fallen hard the very first time he saw her. The foolish part had been trying to tell himself all he wanted was fun.
“I think you’re wrong, Jeannette.” He looked at his watch. “Not only is Rose not coming around, she’s not coming tonight.”
“Is she the one you’re waiting for?” Zane asked.
All his life, Austin realized. And that was t
he hell of it. She was everything he wanted, all he’d been looking for. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. And that body… He’d been so damn sure that the excitement of wanting someone, finding someone had been the same for her, but now he knew he’d made another boneheaded mistake. This time, so far, only these two knew and with luck he would keep it that way.
“Yeah,” he finally answered. “Rose said she’d meet me here.”
Jeannette frowned and her blue eyes grew troubled. “When did you talk to her?”
“As she was leaving work. She said she had an errand to do first.”
“Oh, no—” The woman suddenly looked really worried. “It shouldn’t have taken her this long.”
“What?” Zane asked.
“She was going to stop by The Tattered Saddle.”
Austin stared at her. “The junk store?”
“Antiques,” she clarified. “Rose volunteered to ask Jasper Fowler about something I found when I was cleaning out file cabinets in the mayor’s office.”
“What was it?” He was starting to get a really bad feeling about this.
“We found bank drafts that Arthur Swinton signed over to Jasper Fowler. Bo cautioned not to make assumptions, that there could be a legitimate reason for the transactions. Calista works part-time at the store and volunteered to ask him, but Rose didn’t want her to put the job in jeopardy. She said she’d go, ask discreet questions, then we could put the matter to rest. We’d know whether to give it to the sheriff or the shredder.”
“So she went alone?” For once, Austin wished she’d suppressed that spunky streak.
When Jeannette nodded, his insides knotted with fear. And speaking of jumping to conclusions… He should have known better. Rose might think too much, but she never kept the thoughts to herself. She was straightforward and honest. It was one of the things that had made him love her more. If she’d changed her mind about meeting him, she’d have done one of two things: called or come in person to tell him she wasn’t staying. She would never have stood him up without a word.
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