Murder at Granite Falls

by Roxanne Rustand

  “Penny stays with our great-aunt in town and I have an old cabin a quarter mile upriver. At least one of us is here from sunrise until dark…most days. Though I’m on the road at times, as well.”

  “Sounds like a busy schedule.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “Penny and I are just getting the raft business going again after a few…setbacks last year. Eventually, she’ll manage it and I’ll start adding an outfitting business for trips up into the mountains.”

  She nodded, hiding her dismay at his words. She would be alone here.

  Though no one knew exactly where she’d moved, except for her brother and his fiancée, and she’d carefully kept his ranch as her cell phone and credit card billing address since she could pay her bills online. With that and no home ownership records to trace, it would be hard for Billy or anyone else from her past to find her.

  Surely everything would be fine.

  But still, as she followed Logan down the stairs to go after her luggage, she started to pray.

  “So what do you think?” Penny’s mouth twitched as she looked up at the top floor of the building, where their new tenant was busily sweeping off the balcony. “Will the new teacher last out here?”

  Logan snorted. “My guess? Not even as long as the past two tenants.”

  “I don’t know…she sounded pretty desperate for a place to rent over the summer.”

  “That’s what the others said. A little problem with bears in the trash cans at night and a few wolf howls sent them both packing in a hurry. I gave her our cell phone numbers to call, in case she gets spooked about something.”

  His gaze strayed to the petite woman wielding the broom. She had to be a good six inches shorter than Penny’s five foot eight, and with that gleaming cap of short mahogany hair and those sparkling hazel eyes, she looked like an energetic pixie. When she’d mentioned that she had some guy named Harley with her, he’d even felt a flash of serious disappointment that she was committed to someone…

  Until he’d discovered that Harley was probably the most battered, disreputable cat he’d ever seen.

  “I’m not a betting man, but I’ll give her two days, tops. When we ran into each other at the corner of the building she was as skittish as a week-old filly.”

  “Must have been all of your charisma,” Penny teased.

  “Or maybe she heard the rumors and believes them. I hope not—we’ll need her rent money if we have a slow summer like the last one.”

  Penny’s smile faded. “That won’t happen. Things have died down around here, haven’t they?”

  “We can hope.” He lifted a shoulder. “I just want everything in place for you here so I can get back on the road as soon as possible.”

  She paled. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Your doctor said—”

  “I won’t take chances.” He ruffled the top of her wavy russet mane, which had long since escaped her attempts at a ponytail, just as he had when they were kids growing up on a ranch.

  She batted his hand away. “And you think riding saddle broncs isn’t taking a chance?”

  “If I don’t pay off those short-term loans from last year, we could lose this place. I’ve got to go.”

  “We’ll figure out something. It isn’t worth it, Logan.”

  “But you own a quarter of this business and you’ll go down if I do. I can’t let that happen.”

  She nudged him in the ribs and made a face. “I think it’s an excuse to leave town and not enjoy that lovely cabin any longer.”

  He laughed at that. “I’m getting to know the mice on a first-name basis. You can move into the spare room any time you want—they’d love to meet you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Great offer. I’ll think about it awhile longer, though.”

  “At least you’re staying with Aunt Betty. I think she actually has a furnace there, if I’m not mistaken. And plumbing that works. All the time.”

  “She already asked you to move in, too. There’s plenty of room.”

  At the thought of all the lace and frills in Betty’s house, Logan shuddered. The second guest room was done in lilac and pink, with an explosion of flowers on the wallpaper, and though Betty was a sweetheart, she loved to hover and fuss.

  “I’m fine with where I’m at for now. All I need is to get back on the circuit for the rest of this season and then the next, draw good broncs at every rodeo, and not part ways with any of them until the eight-second buzzer. Then I promise I’ll quit for good.”

  They both fell silent for a moment, and he knew they were thinking about the same thing—the accusations and ensuing trial that had nearly ruined Logan’s reputation and the beginnings of their rafting company last year.

  The legal costs had taken his savings, but at least he’d had good representation. Without it, he would’ve been behind bars…maybe for the rest of his life.

  “I’m going to hold you to that promise,” she murmured. “If it means throwing you in the boathouse and tossing away the key.”

  “I’d sure be a lot of use in there.”

  “Speaking of that, I had a really good group today. Those Red Hat ladies are the best.” Penny blew a stray wisp of hair out of her eyes. “And we’ve already got some reservations booked well into June, so we’ve got a good start on the season. I think the new website has helped a lot.”

  “Agreed.”

  “We’ll be fine, Logan.” She rested a hand on his forearm. “People will forget about what happened. They’ll realize you couldn’t possibly be capable of hurting anyone.”

  “Maybe.” He steeled himself, waiting for one of her platitudes about turning his burdens over to God, but she’d probably given up on trying to convince him. He hoped so.

  Up on the outside balcony, Carrie stood at the door to her apartment. “Thanks again for helping move my things in,” she called out.

  Logan lifted a hand in reply, and she waved as she turned to go back inside.

  There were good reasons for getting back on the road, and now a new one had just moved into the apartment above the rafting office.

  Sweet, perky, with an infectious smile and an endearing hint of vulnerability, Carrie reminded him of Janie, the love of his life through high school and college, and he could almost envy the kids who were going to be in Carrie’s classroom every day.

  Penny followed his glance at the balcony, then angled an amused smile at him. “This is sure going to be an interesting summer.”

  He leveled an impatient look at her. “Don’t you have something important to do?”

  “Nope. Seriously, it’s time you got on with your life. Just because things didn’t work out with Lorena shouldn’t be reason to end up a hermit.”

  “A hermit,” he retorted.

  “Well, nearly.” Penny’s eyes danced. “You’re already thirty-three, so old age is just around the corner. It’s time to move on.”

  Even after two years, Penny wanted to comfort him over the failed relationship with his longtime girlfriend, but long before that—when Penny had been too young to fully understand what was going on—he’d had a far bigger loss. Part of him had died with Janie the day a semi T-boned her car, and he’d never been the same.

  Maybe Lorena was right.

  Maybe his past had turned him into just another emotionless, thoughtless guy who wasn’t capable of commitment. But at least that way, he didn’t ever risk breaking the remnants of his heart.

  The last rays of sunshine were slicing through the mountains to the west when Carrie finally finished putting away her clothes and arranging her possessions. Logan and his sister had left an hour ago, after stopping in to make sure she was settling in, and they’d also made sure that she had their cell numbers and the home number of their aunt Betty who lived in town.

  Nice people, both of them. At least on the surface. Or were they?

  Her stomach tensed into a tight ball of anxiety once again, because she still could not set aside that brief conversation with the deputy in town. There had been
distaste in his expression when she’d announced her destination—far more than she might have expected if he just felt concern about a woman alone coming to this isolated place.

  She shook off her doubts with a heavenward glance.

  She’d prayed long and hard about the decision to come to this town. It was time to reestablish her independence and her career. She’d done the right thing, and worrying was a waste of time. But still…

  Harley, curled up on the back of the sofa, opened one eye and looked at her, then went back to sleep, clearly unconcerned. “A dog would care,” she said drily, stroking his soft fur. “He’d come and sit by me and offer moral support.”

  A deep rumble vibrated through the old cat’s body—more junkyard engine than purr—letting her know that at least the most important creature in the room was content. Smiling to herself, she stepped out onto the balcony and braced her hands on the railing to lean out into the fresh, sweet pine-scented mountain air.

  The rushing sounds of the Wolf River beckoned. Not more than a dozen yards from her new home, its closest bank offered an easy slope for beaching rafts. Even here, she could smell the water and damp earth. The water, now ink-black in the deepening twilight, brought back such good memories of her college summers….

  Drawn to its wild beauty, she went down the outside stairs and took a few steps toward the river. The sound of a twig snapping jerked her to a halt as an invisible hand of fear grabbed at her shoulder. Prickles of awareness at the back of her neck escalated to absolute certainty. She was not alone.

  Someone was here. Very, very close.

  She could sense his eyes burning into her back.

  Hear his breathing.

  She could feel his heartbeat, pounding in cadence with her own. Oh, Lord—I could really use Your help here.

  Stifling a cry, she whirled and flew up the stairs, flung open the door and slammed it shut as soon as she made it inside. Her heart hammered against her ribs and her lungs burned as she drove the dead bolt home, shoved the sofa against the door, then locked all the windows and pulled the shades.

  No footsteps crept up the stairs.

  Nothing was moving outside when she surreptitiously peeked through all of her windows. “Just my overactive imagination,” she chastised herself aloud. “And next, I’ll be afraid of dust bunnies.” Maybe her “stalker” had just been a coyote, frozen in place at her unexpected appearance. Or a menacing chipmunk.

  She’d finally talked herself down from that shaking, adrenaline-laced moment of fear when the cell phone clutched in her damp palm started to sing the first tinny notes of “Beer Barrel Polka.” The screen listed only Unavailable Number and no name, so it wasn’t anyone listed in her phonebook.

  She stared at the phone, hesitated, then lifted it to her ear and said hello.

  Seconds ticked by. Three. Four. Five.

  In disgust, she lowered the phone and poised her forefinger over the end button.

  “Don’t hang up.” The harsh, low whisper effectively masked the caller’s voice. “Not yet.”

  “Who is this?” she demanded.

  “Don’t matter.” His low, venomous laugh grated against her skin and raised the hair at the back of her neck. “Not yet.”

  “Billy?”

  He ignored her question. “You look pretty in that green shirt tonight.”

  Her hand shook and she nearly dropped the phone. “What?”

  “Real pretty.”

  “Who is this?”

  “I’d be more careful in the future if I was you. The night isn’t all that safe.”

  “Maybe not for you, either,” she snapped. She jammed her finger onto the keypad of the phone to end the call.

  So the sense that someone was out there hadn’t been her imagination—and it definitely hadn’t been some sort of wildlife, either. He’d been out there in the shadows. Watching her. Close enough to see the color of her shirt despite the deep twilight.

  Billy?

  He’d been her first guess, and a flash of anger and their long, troubled history had made her issue that foolish challenge. But now she wasn’t so sure. And how could he or anyone else have found her new cell number?

  Anxiety spider-crawled its way up her spine as she started pacing the confines of her apartment, her arms wrapped around her stomach. She’d given it only to her brother, Logan and to the school where she’d be working. That deputy had sure hinted at his opinion of the Bradleys. Logan? But why would he want to drive away a new tenant? It made no sense.

  She debated about calling 911, or her brother, but he was far away with heavy responsibilities of his own. Or Logan himself, which might not be a bad idea.

  He answered on the fifth ring, his voice laced with concern. “Something wrong?”

  She chose her words carefully. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

  “I’m at my aunt’s house fixing a faucet.”

  Yeah, right. “This late?”

  A pause. “I didn’t have time until now.” He sounded vaguely distracted. “Do you need something?”

  Now she could hear faint female voices in the background and the clank of something metal—maybe a wrench—so he was telling the truth after all.

  At least she hadn’t confronted him face-to-face, where he’d see the warm flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck.

  “Did…you or Penny give my phone number to anyone?”

  A pause. “Of course not. Why?”

  “Only a few people have it. I think I had a prowler.”

  “Did you call the sheriff?”

  “I didn’t actually see anyone, and there wasn’t a crime.” Yet, she thought with a shudder. “But a bit later I got a phone call—it had to be the same guy. No specific threat, but it was creepy.”

  “I can be there in twenty minutes. Keep your doors locked.”

  “You don’t have to come. I just wanted to…um…mention it.”

  This time, the pause was much longer. “You wondered where I was tonight,” he said flatly. “Because I have your cell phone number—so I could’ve made that call.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, embarrassed. “And because one of the deputies in town doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

  “Vance? Rick?” Logan sighed heavily. “Believe me, neither one has a valid reason. But right now, I’m concerned about your safety. Do you want Penny and me to come out?”

  His calm concern rang true and despite her doubts earlier, she knew in her heart that Logan couldn’t be her stalker. What motive could he possibly have?

  She went to the windows overlooking the balcony and peered into the calm peaceful night. An owl hooted from a nearby tree. From far away came the faint, distant howl of a coyote, followed by a chorus of the higher pitched yips of its young. But here she could see nothing moving, and a sense of peace settled over her. “No…it’s not necessary. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”

  TWO

  Carrie stood at the open door of her classroom and watched the last child burst out into the hallway.

  Marie Colbert, the teacher across the hall, strolled over to join her, her dark curls bouncing with every step. “Why is it,” she said with a laugh, “that no matter how much fun we had in class, the kids act like they’re escaping a dungeon when they leave? And this is only the first day.”

  Carrie flicked a glance down the hall, toward the open double doors leading out into the warm Montana sunshine. “I guess lazy summer days are meant for creek stomping, not sitting in class.”

  Marie cocked her head and studied her. “You look a little tense.”

  “I’m not sure that turn-of-the-century, American Western art really rang their bells.” Carrie shrugged to mask her frustration. “So I talked about how art can be a way to express deep emotions—like that done by refugee children or during wartime, thinking I might reach the kids who are so addicted to violent video games. But no luck today. I’ve got a few students who really don’t want to be here.”

>   Marie smirked. “I’ll bet the Nelson twins just love all that art.”

  She’d pinpointed two of Carrie’s more challenging students, all right. “How did you know?”

  “I had Austin and Dylan when I taught third grade. When they weren’t wrestling or lobbing spitballs, they were causing some other kind of ruckus.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Carrie said drily.

  “Yeah. It took all year and a trip to the doctor for Ritalin to calm them down.” Marie sighed. “I don’t think they’re taking it anymore, though. I hear they’re back to bouncing off the walls in class and haven’t learned much ever since.”

  “It’s a tough call for a lot of parents. I don’t know what I would do, if it was me.” But it wouldn’t ever be. After her rocky marriage, she couldn’t imagine ever risking another bad choice and that kind of heartbreak again. How could she have been so totally wrong about one of the biggest decisions in life?

  She might as well wish for the moon as to long for the happy little family she’d once dreamed of back in her naive, younger days.

  “Well, I’d go with the medications that helped them settle down and learn, but that’s just me.” Marie adjusted her wire-rim glasses. “But, hey, we’ve already got one day down, and just eight weeks to go. I’ll trade you physics for art appreciation any day. You should look at the mess in my room after our gravity experiments this morning.”

  “Are you a regular teacher here?”

  “Honey, I graduated from Granite Falls High. I went off to Montana State, came back, and I’ve taught here ever since. Ten years.”

  “You must know all of the families well, then.”

  “It’s a really close-knit community. Tourists come and go, but the locals really watch out for each other.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Carrie muttered under her breath. Really glad.

  “Hmm?” Marie gave her a distracted glance as she held up her hand to slow down a straggler racing for the door. “I hear you’ll be full-time in the fall. Where did you teach before?”