Murder at Granite Falls

by Roxanne Rustand

  Rick snorted in derision. “Maybe he knew we’d see things a little too clearly. You do know about the charges against him last year. Right? And the trial?”

  “Yes, and the fact that he was acquitted. Seems to me that justice was served.”

  “Or maybe not. Just remember I warned you,” he said in a low voice. “Associating with the bad elements in town can mean you get tarred with the same brush.” The pager on his belt hummed. He reached for it, read the screen and turned for the arched front doors of the church. “If I were you, I’d watch my step.”

  On her way home from church an hour later, Carrie smiled to herself, thankful she’d gone. After the service, Ivy again apologized over her gaffe, then proceeded to introduce Carrie to everyone in sight. She’d already seen many of the members around town or at school, so being able to connect names and faces would help her fit into the fabric of the community.

  But the deputy’s insinuations had played through her thoughts during the service, and even now she couldn’t forget what he’d said. Clichéd or not, his words had held more than a veiled warning about her association with the Bradleys.

  Logan hadn’t been kidding when he’d said that reporting the damage to the raft wouldn’t do him much good because he figured the local sheriff’s department probably wouldn’t be much help.

  And now she had to wonder. If she ever had trouble with prowlers or stalkers or a certain ex-husband while living at the Bradley place, would they bother to come quickly…or even come at all?

  Logan tightened the final strap on the life jacket, then grinned at the elderly man who had been grumbling for the past ten minutes about his wife’s decision to go rafting. “It’s an easy run, from here down to the fork. You’ll think you’re in an easy chair back home.”

  “Right. But if that little girl over there—”

  “Tina. She’s been river guiding since she was seventeen.”

  “Well, if she misses that fork, what then?”

  “The Wolf is calm to that point. There, she’ll take the right fork into Selby Creek and you’ll enjoy another five miles of quiet water before you land.”

  “Hmpf. And if she goes to the left, we die.”

  “No. The main channel does change to some serious white water. That would be more like a cycle through your washing machine. But it won’t happen. Promise.”

  “You’d better be right. She looks about as strong as my twelve-year-old niece.”

  Tina finished loading the last of four women, then beckoned. “Ready, sir.”

  Grumbling, the man squared his shoulders as he trudged over to the raft, clearly not wanting to be shown up by his wife and the other silver-haired women who were already on board and chatting gaily about their river adventure.

  At the sound of tires crunching on gravel, Logan turned and found Carrie pulling to a stop by the office. She stepped out of her car, pretty as a daffodil in a slim yellow skirt, top and matching jacket, the sunshine picking out golden highlights in her sleek cap of mahogany hair.

  He felt his heart stop for just a moment before it remembered to pick up its regular beat.

  “Howdy,” he called out, knowing it was probably better to get this over now…despite Penny’s feelings to the contrary.

  Carrie smiled and walked over, slipping out of her jacket and draping it over one shoulder as she crossed the parking area. “Beautiful day for a float,” she said, eyeing the elderly group of passengers in Tina’s raft. “Are you going out, as well?”

  “Later. About the raft guiding…” He cleared his throat. “I checked with our insurance agent. Do you have the certificates for Swift Water Rescue and Wilderness First Responder?”

  “That must be something new. I haven’t guided since I was in college.”

  “So you probably just had First Aid and CPR.”

  She nodded. “And the usual river training, plus four summers of experience.”

  “Unfortunately, our insurance rates are sky-high as it is, and we’re required to supply proof of certification for every guide or they’ll double the cost of our policy.”

  Her face fell. “How soon can I be certified?”

  “The First Responder class takes eight days, and the Level I and II Water Rescue classes add up to over four. Not that much—but they’re only taught a couple times a year in this area.”

  “Is it hard to get in?”

  “I did some calling. The tuition is pricey for all three, but the June classes start on Monday. During the first four days you’d be doing both classes every day, to get the Water Rescue classes done while you’re taking the First Responder series. You could be done by the end of next week, if you were really serious about this. But this is awfully short notice.”

  “It starts tomorrow?”

  “Right. And they do have several slots available, so you could still get in.”

  She cast a wistful look toward the river. “The summers I spent guiding were some of the best in my life. Being out on the river every day, facing the challenges…and I covered a lot of my college tuition with the tips I made, too.”

  “I can’t guarantee a set number of scheduled trips, though.”

  “Still, it would be a good job for a teacher, since I have my summers off.” She considered for a moment. “Would the class times conflict with my morning teaching schedule?”

  “They start at one o’clock and end at dusk, so it would work, though it would be a mighty long day.” He shrugged, sure that she’d decide against it. Hoping that would be her response.

  She bit her lower lip, considering. “I’ll do it. It was really sweet of you to check this all out for me.”

  Sweet? He’d expected her to shy away from such a heavy commitment. He’d hoped that she would, because he’d felt an attraction to her since the first day she arrived, and he’d resolved to keep careful distance to avoid any complications. But now, she was looking up at him with a soft smile, and he felt like a complete heel for not encouraging her to do something he knew would make her happy.

  “I…well… If you want to go out on the river, you can always come along with the groups if there’s an empty place.” He cleared his throat. “Though I don’t expect you’ll have much time during the next couple of weeks. Sometimes Penny or I go out alone in a small raft or take the kayaks, and you’d be welcome to come along then, if you want. Or you can go alone. No charge. I guess you’ll need to start learning this river.”

  Her smile brightened and lit up her hazel eyes. “That would be wonderful. I suppose you can guess that my summer teaching salary doesn’t stretch very far.”

  “About that…Penny and I talked it over. I’m not sure how many raft trips we can promise you this summer because business has been slow. Her offer still stands if you’d like some hours manning the office. She pointed out that having someone here at the office would make everything a lot easier.”

  “And what about you?”

  Her gleaming hair shifted as she tipped her head, studying him. How had he missed the sprinkle of freckles over her nose? Or the way the corners of her mouth tilted up, ever so slightly, even when she wasn’t smiling?

  He blinked, trying to remember what she’d just said. “What?”

  “Do you mind having me around? I get the feeling that you aren’t so sure you want me here after all. So if it’s just Penny’s idea…”

  The problem was that he did want her around. A lot more. He cleared his throat. “No…I think she’s right.”

  “Then it’s a deal.”

  Carrie proffered her hand and he reached out to shake it. And once again, he felt that little zinging sensation of awareness at her touch. A sensation that warmed his hand and sent sparks speeding toward his calloused heart.

  “This will probably work out well,” he added. “As it was, we could only have two guides on the river at any given time, since one of us had to stay here at the home base. If you start working for us whenever you have some free time, then maybe I can get back on the road for the
rest of the summer and we’ll still have two people guiding.”

  “The road?” Her startled eyes flew up to meet his. “Are you a sales rep or something?”

  “Rodeo.”

  Usually, people were curious when he mentioned that part of his life. A lot of the tourists and pretty little buckle bunnies at the rodeos were even starstruck by the cowboys who consistently took home the big paychecks. But Carrie’s eyes now widened in obvious horror. Had she misunderstood?

  “Saddle broncs,” he added, when she didn’t respond. “I thought you knew. The pictures up in the office…the bronc saddle on display in the corner?”

  “I’ve only been in there a couple of times. I thought it was all just there for Western atmosphere.”

  She looked so disappointed that he had to bite back a laugh. “Nope. I grew up on a ranch and competed in high school rodeo, so I just kept at it.”

  “B-but you’re operating a rafting business.”

  “This here is my retirement plan. I’m thirty-three—getting old, by rodeo standards. Since the family ranch is long gone, I started saving toward the future a long time ago. Good thing, because I’ve been laid up for the first two months of this season.”

  “Rodeo,” she repeated glumly.

  “As soon as I’m cleared by the doc, I need to catch the rest of the season. It’s too late for making the year-end standings, but the money’s still good. After this year and next, I’ll be able to quit.”

  She stared at him, silent and still, her face chalk-white. And then she walked away.

  SEVEN

  Carrie stepped out of her SUV on Monday morning, carefully surveyed the teachers’ parking lot, then tapped the lock button on her key ring remote and hurried toward the back entrance of the school.

  Everything was at it should be. Students being dropped off by parents at the front door. Some walking from various parts of the small town. Traffic was light in town, since the tourist crowds usually didn’t pick up until midmorning. Which should have made it easier to spot anything unusual. Anyone who might have been following her…or waiting somewhere, to watch her pass by.

  But something wasn’t right.

  She’d felt it at the back of her neck. That uneasy prickling sensation of warning. She’d had an uneasy premonition before she ever left her riverside apartment. And she’d had it earlier, when someone called her cell phone twice in the middle of the night but hung up when she answered.

  She’d immediately gone to her laptop to trace the caller’s name via a reverse lookup website, but the number had been untraceable.

  She’d sighed with relief when Logan, Penny and Tina all drove in and parked over by the boathouse this morning, knowing that she wasn’t alone. Yet even now, with students and teachers all funneling into the school, she again had a disquieting sense that she was being watched.

  In the relative privacy of her classroom, with the door firmly shut, she called Trace, impatiently counting the rings. The kids were piling up outside the door and she’d have to let them in before Marie or the principal stopped in to see what was going on. Why wasn’t he answering?

  She shivered, remembering one of Billy’s emails from a few months ago. You’re going to be so sorry. Your family, too.

  Trace had laughed off her immediate concern for his safety, but he certainly hadn’t wasted a minute where she was concerned. He’d immediately reported the message to both the sheriff’s department and Sam Olson, Carrie’s lawyer, and demanded that they follow up.

  She’d always followed Sam’s advice and never responded to any of her ex-husband’s calls or messages. Sam had, though, to keep track of his whereabouts, but Billy had dropped out of sight for many months.

  But then there’d been the email he sent to her just a few weeks ago, promising that he’d be paying her a visit soon. Would he? He’d taunted her before and hadn’t followed through. Surely he knew that he’d gain nothing but trouble if he harassed her now.

  But could she stake her life on it?

  And soon, she might be even more vulnerable, if Logan went traipsing off to follow the rodeo circuit. Rodeo.

  It had been a startling revelation, to say the least, and had effectively doused any attraction she felt toward him.

  The last thing she needed in her life was a footloose, irresponsible cowboy chasing the sunsets across the country. Perhaps absence made the heart grow fonder, but distance also set the stage for lies and deceit that were hard to detect.

  Logan probably wasn’t like Billy at all. There were plenty of honest, good-hearted cowboys out there—many who even belonged to Cowboys for Christ, and who would share her faith.

  But even worse than Billy’s lies and hot temper were the sleepless nights and the worry. The years of fearing the ring of the phone, afraid Billy had been injured…or killed, like his buddy Mike two years ago. She could never live that life of fear again. Ever.

  She heard a faint click, then Trace’s recorded voice came on. She left a brief message. Switched the phone to vibrate. Then dropped it into the pocket of her ivory slacks, straightened her crimson summer top and dredged up a smile as she walked to the door.

  With luck, Trace would text her back with the news she wanted to hear. And soon. But if not…

  Her hand on the doorknob, she bowed her head for a moment in silent prayer. And then she opened the door for the waiting children and started her day.

  She’d worried and fidgeted all day Monday, waiting for Trace to call. By the time her cell phone finally vibrated at six o’clock, in the middle of her Wilderness First Responder class, her nerves were jangled and the phone slipped out of her hand twice when she tried to pull it out of her pocket. When she saw his fiancée’s number, not his, on the caller ID, her heart nearly stopped. “Is everything all right, Kris? Where is Trace—is he okay?” she whispered, turning away from the rest of the group.

  “Never better,” he drawled.

  “Trace.” Weak with relief, Carrie felt her heart drop. “I’ve been worried about you all day.”

  “As well you should. We spent the whole day looking at tuxes and wedding flowers up in Billings. I think I’d rather be run over by a bull than ever do that again.”

  “You didn’t get my message. Where’s your phone?”

  “I left it on Kris’s kitchen counter, but we’re almost back there now. What’s up?”

  She hesitated. She’d had no trouble all day. There’d been no sign of anyone stalking her when she left school at noon. Should she even say anything? Was her foolish imagination just playing tricks on her?

  But her message was still on Trace’s phone, waiting to be heard, and there was no way to take it back.

  “I…well, I had a couple of hang-up calls last night. I just get this uneasy feeling now and then that someone is watching me. And…well, I’ve had a prowler at night. Twice.”

  He was silent for a moment. “You called the sheriff, right?”

  “I did…but there hasn’t been much to go on. The guy uses one of those cheap, preloaded phones that you can buy at Walmart, so his calls are untraceable. I haven’t seen his face.”

  “Billy couldn’t possibly know where you are, sis. Only Kris and I do, and we haven’t told a soul.”

  “I know you wouldn’t.” She fiddled with the frayed hem of her jeans. “But you haven’t seen him around Battle Creek, have you? Or heard anything?”

  “Kris looked up the Southwest rodeo standings last night. He’s listed as being out of the money at a couple of rodeos in New Mexico during May.”

  “But nothing since then?”

  “If he wasn’t even making gas and entry money, maybe he took a job on a ranch somewhere just to build up some cash. He’s done that before.”

  “True.” But he definitely wouldn’t be happy about it. “So nothing on the lists since May?”

  “Maybe she should check the surrounding states. He could’ve moved on.”

  “I could do that myself, too. But thanks, Trace. It’s good to hear you
r voice.”

  “Maybe you should just come back to the ranch,” he added quietly. “I hope you consider this your home, too.”

  But it wasn’t the family ranch they’d grown up on. Trace had bought the Rocking R himself and had built it up to the success it was today, and soon it would be his new bride’s home, as well. A sister hanging around forever would be like an old spinster aunt at a party—just in the way.

  Carrie fiddled with the delicate silver bracelet that he’d given her when she turned eighteen. “I have a full-time job here in the fall, and I’m contracted for summer session now. I can’t give that up. I’ve wanted this for too long.”

  “But I still have that empty cabin for you, and you’d be safer here no matter what. Think about it.”

  “I will. Thanks, Trace.”

  She held the phone long after he disconnected the call. After class was over at nine, she’d go home and start some research on the internet. With luck, she’d find Billy listed among the rodeo money earners on some other rodeo circuit: happy, busy and far, far away. But that posed still another worry.

  If Billy wasn’t lurking in Granite Falls, then who could be stalking her—and why?

  White-knuckling the steering wheel of her SUV, Carrie eyed the gas gauge on the instrument panel and said another silent prayer as she drove the last two miles home after her White-water Rescue class.

  Her tank had been over three-quarters full when she’d driven out to the site of the class, four miles on the other side of Granite Falls. She’d been sure of it. Yet her low-fuel light had come on when she started the vehicle afterward, and with the two gas stations in town already closed for the evening, she’d been biting her fingernails the rest of the way home.

  The gauge had always been accurate.

  There was no way she could’ve used that much gas.

  And there couldn’t have been a leak—there’d been no pungent odor of gasoline surrounding the vehicle when she’d climbed back in. So who would come out in the middle of nowhere to siphon fuel? It wouldn’t have been difficult to pull it off, if someone was desperate or otherwise motivated, though.