She fought the urge to rip the paper in a thousand shreds, and instead held it by the narrowest possible edge to avoid contaminating it with her own fingerprints as she strode to the patrol car.
Once inside, she gently stored the letter in a manila folder. But even with it stowed safely at her side, the words played through her thoughts a hundred times over as she headed straight back to town.
It was a threat.
A taunt.
A promise.
And it was directed at her.
Hal instructed Betty to hold all calls, then firmly shut the door of his office and sat down behind his desk. With all four deputies there, the walls seemed to press in from all sides. “So what do you have for me?”
Ewan ran a hand over his thinning hair. “Not much. I ran the prints from the Fairland house and came up with nothing. They all matched the owner or one other person, consistently. Neither one had any history.”
“Fairland’s wife is usually there with him, and the second set was hers,” Megan said. “The intruder likely wore gloves, because he had to have handled the furniture and other items that he tossed around. But that’s no surprise. Anyone with a TV can watch the CSI reruns and learn the benefit of wearing gloves.”
Ewan nodded. “Our serial killer learned that lesson all too well.”
“Well, I drove up to the K Bar L and took a look around,” Wes said. “Lane was gone. The owner wasn’t there, but the ranch hands said Lane left early this morning to haul a load of cattle up to Billings, but he’d be back tonight.” He hitched a shoulder. “I didn’t get much, really. The guy has worked there for about two years. Stays to himself most of the time, doesn’t have much to say. One of the hands said he takes off now and then and is gone for a few days. Lane has told them that he goes to visit his sister in Rawlins and maybe that’s true, but no one has ever seen her.”
Hal looked up from the tablet on his desk, where he’d been jotting notes. “Did you get her name?”
“Yep, Barbara Lane. But I haven’t had a chance yet to do a search for her address and phone number.”
Hal flipped his pen between his fingers. “Megan.”
She quickly summarized last night’s encounter with the black pickup and the accident, then took a deep breath. “Carl Wilson—the truck driver—swore he could I.D. the man behind the wheel of the pickup. Only now, he’s in bad shape at the hospital and might not pull through.”
“But we’re just talking about a break and enter here, really,” Ewan interjected in a bored tone. “Proving who the driver of the pickup was, without physical evidence, would be a hard sell in court—even if this ends up as vehicular homicide. Anyway, I thought we were concerned with bigger issues right now.”
“That’s a big one in my book.” Megan glanced around the room. “The truck I saw last night slammed backward into a tree, and it hit hard. I went to check out a similar black pickup in town, but it had no damage on the rear fender or bumper. The interesting thing is that just minutes after checking the truck, I got a call on my personal cell phone. Anonymous. Untraceable. The caller gloated about how he knew I’d be going up to check out Scott Anders’s truck. Then he taunted me about whether or not I’d ever figure out who he was.”
All four pairs of eyes in the room were riveted on her now.
“He also delivered a subtle threat. Something about talking to me later, and that I’d really like it.” She made a face of disgust. “He sounded smarmy and overconfident. But it gets even more interesting.”
She lifted a manila folder from her lap and handed it to Hal. “I got this. I went out to double-check the Fairland property, guessing that the intruder may have returned during the night. This note was taped to the door. I already tried to lift prints from it, but there wasn’t anything legible.”
Hal studied it, his face grim. Then he passed the folder around the room. “It could be a copycat. Someone who wants to play into all the gossip about the Full Moon murders, just for kicks.”
“I don’t think so.” She stood and paced to the window, then turned back to face everyone. “I think our suspect was at that tavern. Maybe not anyone I talked to, but I think he took the bait. Someone followed me home—too far back for me to be sure, but I heard a vehicle come into my driveway right after I got there. I think he saw my patrol car parked by the house that night, or figured it out later, and now he wants to play games. Maybe he even broke into the Fairland place knowing it’s in the area I cover.”
“To draw you away from town and put you in a more vulnerable position? Or prove that he can manipulate you?” Jim frowned. “I don’t like this at all.”
“Well, I can’t stop doing my job. I think he’s going to up the stakes and try to prove we can’t catch him. But if we don’t, a lot more people are going to die.”
“But why did he target you?” Wes asked slowly.
“Maybe he figures I’ll be frightened and weak because I’m a woman. Maybe he figures it will be more exciting if he dares me to catch him. A male superiority thing.”
Hal’s shoulders sagged. “We won’t have long to wait. He’s already working on his next move. The highway patrol found a woman staggering along the highway between here and Battle Creek, early this morning. Half-dressed, her hands bound with duct tape. Beat up pretty bad, but at least she was alive. She said it was dark and he wore a mask, so she never got a good look at his face.”
Megan closed her eyes for a moment. “Raped?”
“No. But she was carrying a message.” Hal blew out a long breath as he leaned over his desk and motioned for Megan to take it. “I received this copy by fax. Look familiar?”
She stared at it, then looked up at him, feeling the blood drain from her face as she read it. This one goes free—but the next won’t be so lucky. “This font is an exact match of the note left on Fairland’s door. So I was right.”
He nodded. “And now, we need to get to work.”
“The suspect has to know that the truck driver saw his face. That means Wilson is in danger.”
“Jim, get over to the hospital and alert them to the situation. See if you can get any information on the man’s condition, even if you have to track down his relatives to do it. Wes, work on tracking down Lane’s sister. And, Megan, you stay here. You can start calling every roadhouse in the county. I want you to describe the guy who called himself Milt, and see if anyone else has seen him around.”
“So you want me to ride a desk. Stay here, when I could be out doing a lot more.”
Hal glared at her. “Someone has to do it. Might as well be you.”
“You know our suspect could be someone we haven’t even thought of yet.”
“True.”
“There’s almost two dozen little towns in this county with a couple hundred people or less. Any one of those wide spots in the road could be harboring the killer.”
“True.”
“So without every possible officer out in the field, we don’t stand a chance.”
“Oh, yes we do. Because there’s a good chance he’ll surface again and try to lure you out, wanting you to play his game. And if that time comes, we’ll be ready. I promise you that.”
ELEVEN
After hours of sitting at a desk in the Marshall County Sheriff’s office, looking up the phone numbers of bars and taverns in the Internet yellow pages, then calling every last one of them with a description of Milt Powers, Megan knew two things.
Milt had apparently appeared out of thin air when he showed up at the Halfway House Tavern, because no one else had ever seen him, so maybe he had been just passing through.
And the last thing she’d ever want was to be tied to a desk as a county sheriff.
At eight o’clock, three hours after the sheriff and secretary had gone home, she sighed heavily, shut down the computer, grabbed her keys and cell phone, and headed out to her patrol car. The phone vibrated in her hand, sending her heart into overdrive as she lifted it to check the screen.
A sens
e of relief washed through her. “Scott. What’s up?”
“I left you a couple messages. You’re a hard lady to catch.”
“I had to finish out my shift in the office this evening, so I had the ringer off.”
His laughter was low and warm. “Why does that sound as if you were put on a time-out?”
“I was. Sort of.” She found herself smiling. “Not that I did anything wrong.”
“That’s what they all say. There’s never a guilty person on death row.”
“Or in a jail cell, for that matter.”
“Hey, Jasper and I were thinking this evening, and well, it seemed awfully quiet at home. I suggested that we run into town for pizza and he agreed—but now I’ve just picked up this hot, fresh, steaming pizza absolutely loaded with chicken, fresh parmesan and some sort of garlic-ranch sauce. And it’s just way too big.”
“You must have gone to Gino’s. They have the most incredible Chicken Ranch Pizza I’ve ever tasted. You could always save the rest for tomorrow.”
“Or we could share it. What do you think, are you hungry at all? This thing is huge. Maybe we could meet in the town square at one of the picnic tables?”
“Well…”
“You may be thinking no, but I’ll bet your stomach is saying yes.” He fell silent for a moment. “Wait—what about your dog? I suppose you do have to go home.”
He’d handed her an easy excuse.
She could head home and keep her life as uncomplicated as it had been for the past couple of years, no questions asked. But suddenly that option wasn’t appealing at all.
“Actually, the previous property owner installed a swinging pet entrance in the kitchen door. Buddy figured it out the second day.”
“So you’ll meet me?”
“Honestly, that pizza sounds like an offer too good to refuse.”
During the summer, the little park was often filled with tourists, and arts and crafts booths lined the perimeter. An assortment of musicians played for the dollars thrown in their empty guitar cases on the ground.
Now, the benches and picnic tables were all empty, and the only other people were an elderly couple walking their beagle, and a group of high school kids shooting baskets on the tennis court that also boasted a hoop.
Scott had already arrived, and was leaning against a picnic table with Jasper sitting at his feet. “You came,” he said, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deepening. “I was afraid you’d change your mind and leave me with all this food.”
She smiled back, her mood lifting at simply seeing him there. “Not when Gino’s pizza is involved.”
He turned and shook out a folded scarlet tablecloth, letting the breeze catch it so it drifted down on the picnic table.
She laughed. “Wow. You’re good.”
“I worked my way through college at a restaurant. Basic Life Skills 101, for a kid who grew up with paper plates and boxed mac and cheese.”
From a grocery sack he withdrew napkins and bottles of cold water, then he lifted the pizza box from one of the benches. “Still hot.”
They sat down opposite one another, each lifting a fragrant slice gooey with rich, heavy cheese.
“Did you have a good day catching bad guys?”
“Always.”
“So what made you decide on law enforcement?”
She took a second bite of pizza and closed her eyes, savoring each subtle nuance of the fresh herbs. “I wanted to go after those bad guys, not worry about them coming after me.”
“Sounds like a good reason.”
“So what about you? I know you’re on a medical leave…but I’m curious about why you came this far west and actually bought property. Seems permanent to me.”
“It is. I inherited some money years ago from my grandmother. I invested it in the stock market. Built it up, took a big hit when the market fell, worked to build it up again, and…” He gave a wry laugh. “Well, the market fell again. I finally decided to invest it in property and do what I’d always wanted to do. So here I am, in the mountains.”
Jasper had been eyeing Scott, his tail wagging. Now, he moved over to stare at Megan. She broke off a bit of crust and tossed it to him. “So…what are your plans? The place you bought isn’t big enough for an operational ranch. Are you thinking about a dude ranch? A rustic resort?”
“Maybe the latter, someday. I’ve got twenty acres, with a number of sites that have stunning views of the mountains. Perfect places for a scattering of secluded cabins, for the people who don’t want to feel like they’re in a village or crowded resort.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“I think so. It could be a nice supplemental income to go along with the writing.”
“Cool. So what do you write?”
“I’ve done a lot of articles for magazines over the years. Now, I’ve also started back to work on a suspense novel that’s been on the back burner for a while.”
“Really cool.” She thought for a moment. “So that’s why you don’t get to town much.”
“Nope. I’m pretty much a hermit, most of the time.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m safer there, anyway. When I do go to town I somehow end up bringing home another animal or two—sort of like your friend with the animal shelter, only my residents never move on.”
He really was a fascinating man, despite everything.
He’d been a cop, so he ought to know better…yet, like Prince Charming in some fairy tale, he’d already insisted on coming to her rescue twice—from the mayor’s sharp remarks and Lane, the aggressive man at the tavern.
She didn’t want or need rescuing. That was her job, as a county deputy. Yet that charming twinkle in his eyes did the funniest things to her heart.
But charming twinkles aside, she’d long since accepted that God didn’t have marital bliss on His agenda for her life, because she’d been down this road before and it always led to dead ends well before any talk of happily-ever-afters.
It would be so easy to set all logic aside and fall for Scott anyway. To take that risk just one more time. He seemed to be everything she’d ever imagined about the kind of man she’d like to meet, and more. Intelligent. Witty. Honorable. A strong protector with a good and loving heart, if his growing menagerie was any clue. She hadn’t even known him that long, yet just the brush of his hand against hers made her heart start doing crazy little flip-flops in her chest…as if there were some innate, chemical reaction going on.
But even if he’d been a cop, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t face another painful heartbreak if she risked her emotions once again, and that had happened one too many times already. The giddy, silly feelings dancing around her heart, urging her to take the chance, were as fickle as the Montana sun in January.
Solid relationships were tough for someone in law enforcement. Long, late hours, the stress and the fears, the issues of trust…and it wasn’t just her. Maybe Hal enjoyed a solid marriage, but hadn’t all of the other deputies been through a divorce at least once?
No matter what her foolish heart wanted, she would be leaving Scott Anders alone.
“Hey, there,” he said, studying her with concern. “Something wrong?”
Jerked back into the present, she felt a blush warm the back of her neck. Nothing, as long as I always play it safe. “Sorry—just thinking.” She pinned on a bright smile. “I really appreciate your invitation. This is perfect, after a long day. Great pizza, a beautiful spot outdoors.”
“Don’t forget the good company.”
Despite her every intention, she still couldn’t resist the chance to flirt…just a little. What could be the harm? “That’s right,” she said with a laugh. “Jasper is a great dog.”
He gave her a pained look. “Wait a minute. He didn’t bring you pizza.”
“Nope. But he’s awfully sweet, anyway.” From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Hal striding across the lawn. “Oh-oh.”
Scott followed the direction of her gaze. “What�
�are you playing hooky?”
“I…was supposed to talk you into something.” She studied him over the slice of pizza in her hand. “Not that I expected it would happen.”
“What—a confession?” He drawled, his intent gaze fixed on hers.
“Howdy,” Hal called out. “Have you two had a good visit?”
Megan looked between the two men. “Not…yet.”
Hal clapped Scott on the shoulder. “I suppose she told you how short-staffed we are?”
A corner of Scott’s mouth twitched. “At length, actually.”
Megan stiffened. “That isn’t exactly true.”
Turning to Hal, Scott ignored her. “I just hope your department is back up to full staffing soon, so your officers don’t need to take any unnecessary risks.”
She bristled. “I don’t take chances that could jeopardize an investigation, Anders.”
“What about your personal safety?”
Hal frowned as he glanced between them, not quite picking up on the undertones. “Have you ever thought of working part-time while you’re up in this area, Anders?”
“Nope.”
“Not even law enforcement—if you had the chance?”
“Make that a definite no.”
“You’re sure?”
“Right now my gun arm wouldn’t pass muster. But I’ve left all of that behind in any case. For good.”
“Want to work for just a few months?”
“I’m not your man.”
Hal gave him a good-ole-boy clap on his back. “I’ll tell you what. Give us just a single month. See how you like it.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m just not interested.” Scott shrugged. “Anyway, I think working here would play havoc with my current medical leave.”
“We’re talking consultant time. A few days a week…without any twelve-hour shifts of patrol time behind the wheel.”
Scott fell silent at that, and Hal quickly pressed his point. “All we’d need is a month or so. We’ve got three men out, and we could use a good investigator. Just help us with this murder case. Keep your own time card, your own hours.”
BIG SKY SECRETS 03: End Game Page 10