by Rita Herron
They were black, the blackest of black, as if they were hollowed empty holes in his face.
As if they were the devil’s eyes.
Was the man a figment of her imagination, the face she’d conjured up to go with the man who’d threatened her on the phone?
And all that blood...it was almost as if she’d been there. Seen someone die.
Someone she’d loved...
But that was impossible. If she’d witnessed a death or murder, she would remember it, wouldn’t she?
Chapter Six
Maddox rubbed Rose’s shoulders to soothe her. “It’s all right, Rose, you’re safe now. I won’t let him hurt you.” He continued to comfort her with soft nonsensical words until she calmed.
“I’m sorry, Maddox,” Rose whispered. “It was just a nightmare. Except it seemed so real.”
He steeled himself against the way she’d felt against him, all soft womanly curves. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman. Between his job as sheriff and taking care of his ranch and his father, he was usually too exhausted at night to consider dating.
That had to be the reason he was reacting so strongly every time Rose touched him.
Maddox stood to put some distance between them. “Understandable after last night. Go back to sleep.”
She licked her lips. “I don’t think I can.”
Early morning sunlight streamed through the sheer lacy curtains of her window, dappling her skin in a golden glow.
Still, she still looked pale.
Vulnerable.
“Then take a shower and I’ll fix us something to eat. I want to get an early start at the cabin.”
She shivered, then grabbed her robe, tugged it on, and slid from bed. “I’ll go with you. If Thad’s body is on that land, I need to know.”
Maddox gave a clipped nod, then strode from the room, ignoring the pull of attraction he felt for her.
He had a job to do and he damned well better get to it.
His brothers would be coming to Pistol Whip any day now to see their dying father, and he wanted this case tied up first. It would take all his energy to deal with them.
* * *
ROSE STEPPED BENEATH the warm spray of water, hoping the shower could wash away the last disturbing memory of that nightmare. But the tune from that music box continued to haunt her.
Maybe she’d seen a box like it in her antiques business. When she’d first decided to set up the store, she’d traveled across Wyoming, even visited a few other states, in search of unique items to add to her inventory.
Furniture brought in the bigger bucks, but some rare items with history behind them were valuable.
But it wasn’t the money that drew her to the business. It was the history of family and memories associated with the items. Those were the priceless parts she wanted to pass on to her customers. The value of a cigar humidor that had originated with a general in World War II who’d passed it down to his son, who’d then handed it down to his son. A rare coin found in a fire dating back to the 1800s. An antique belt buckle engraved with a family crest. A piece of jewelry that was passed from mother to daughter to granddaughter. A rocking chair hand-carved by a craftsman for his wife to rock their infant in.
They were treasures in Rose’s eyes.
But her father had discouraged her from getting attached to things. They’d moved from place to place every couple of years, never really making a home, never taking any personal items with them. In fact, twice she remembered waking up in the car when they were on their way to a new town, crying for a favorite doll or stuffed animal they’d forgotten and left behind.
They’d never spoken of her grandparents, aunts, uncles or cousins. It was almost as if they’d cut anyone close to them out of their lives.
The same with friends they’d made in each town. And there had been very few of those.
She rinsed the shampoo and conditioner from her hair, climbed from the shower and dried off. Then she quickly dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. If they were hiking through the woods in search of a grave or Thad’s body, she wanted to dress for it.
She braided her hair and tied it at the nape of her neck, and dabbed on a little powder to mask the dark circles beneath her eyes.
The scent of coffee wafted toward her as she ventured downstairs. She found Maddox in her kitchen, scrambling eggs on the stove with a mug of coffee in one hand.
For a moment, her breath caught. The big, tough-looking cowboy seemed at ease in the kitchen, but his jaw was still set in that firm line, and when he looked up at her, a dark wariness had settled in his eyes.
He poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her, their fingers brushing. A tingle rippled through her at the heat, but he yanked his hand back quickly and scooped the eggs onto a plate.
“We need to talk.”
Rose’s instincts surged to life, and she sank into the kitchen chair and sipped her coffee. “You found something?”
He shook his head, then joined her at the table, his big hands wrapped around the mug. “That’s just it, Rose. I ran a background check on Thad Thoreau and didn’t find anything.”
She frowned. “Nothing incriminating?”
“I mean nothing,” he said, emphasizing the last word. “As in the Thad Thoreau you knew doesn’t exist.”
* * *
MADDOX SIPPED HIS COFFEE, giving Rose time to process what he’d said.
“What do you mean, he doesn’t exist?” Rose asked.
“Not on paper.” Maddox scooped up a bite of eggs and chewed. “He doesn’t show up in the DMV or any of the databases I checked.”
“Maybe he went by a middle name?”
“I did an extensive search, Rose. I think he used a fake identity so no one could trace him after he left Pistol Whip.”
Rose’s face blanched. “You mean, once I was dead.”
He nodded, his expression grim. “I sent his photo to the lab. Hopefully their facial recognition software will turn up something.”
Rose ran her finger along the rim of her cup. “You must think I’m a complete idiot.”
Maddox grunted. “No. I think you’re a beautiful woman who trusted the wrong man.”
Rose’s gaze shot to his. He thought she was beautiful?
“Look, Rose, the business card Thoreau gave you was bogus. There’s no such company. He created an identity with the sole purpose of getting to know you. Then he seduced you into going with him to an isolated place so he could kill you and no one would know. By the time someone in town realized you were missing, he’d be long gone, probably living under another name.”
* * *
ROSE STARED OUT the window as they drove to Cheyenne, where Maddox dropped off the forensics at the lab.
Nerves gathered in her stomach as they left.
“Thank you for not mentioning my involvement,” Rose said wryly.
Maddox darted a furtive look at her. “I want the facts, the truth,” he said matter-of-factly. “Not being able to find Thoreau in the databases raises suspicions about his activity and motives in itself. It also adds credence to your story. No sense bringing in other authorities until we know more.”
Rose twined her hands together, grateful that he believed her. But would another law officer accept her story so easily if she had to face charges?
Memories of meeting Thad flashed back. She’d first met him at her store. He’d been friendly and charming, but hadn’t stayed in town long. A week later she’d run into him in a restaurant at the hotel where she’d been staying in Cheyenne on a buying trip. It had seemed like serendipity.
He was attentive, flattering, had flirted outrageously with her, and they’d gone to dinner. She’d wound up staying for the weekend and they’d gone sightseeing, had a picnic in the park and attended a concert.
The next few weeks he’d romanced her with phone calls and late-night dinners. That he didn’t have family, and she was estranged from her parents, had drawn them together.
&
nbsp; But all of it had been a lie.
Maddox turned down the dirt road leading to the cabin, and the memory of Thad closing his hand over hers and telling her he loved her floated back...
“Just think, tomorrow you’ll be my wife,” he murmured as they parked. Rain was threatening, and he rushed around to her side of the car, scooped her into his arms and carried her to the door. They laughed when he nearly slipped on the steps and dropped her.
“I’m going to take a bubble bath,” she said after they went inside.
She daydreamed about their wedding as she soaked in the tub.
Then she dried off and tiptoed to the door. She heard Thad’s voice and realized he was on the phone...then everything had gone wrong...
How had she missed the signs?
Maddox parked, then retrieved his flashlight from the trunk and pulled on a pair of gloves. Rose followed him, scanning the property in case Thad had survived and was hiding, ready to ambush them.
* * *
MADDOX MOTIONED FOR Rose to wait while he searched the house one more time. He’d hoped that he’d missed something the night before, but the place was just as they’d left it, and he still couldn’t find any evidence that Thoreau had been shot.
Not even blood or a hair fiber.
The cleanup reeked of a professional job just as he’d originally thought.
When he returned to the porch, Rose was waiting, her expression tormented. “Did you find anything?”
“No, nothing. I’ll check the property and woods now.”
“I’ll go with you,” Rose said.
Maddox narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to do that, Rose.”
“Two pairs of eyes have to be better than one.” She descended the steps, tugging her jacket around her. “Where should we look first?”
“Let’s walk around the outside of the house in case there’s a crawl space he could have taken refuge in.”
Rose took the flashlight he offered, and he strode to the right of the house while she went left.
He passed the side windows, then noticed a storm cellar hidden by overgrown bushes. Suspicion kicking in, he raked weeds aside. The lock was old and rusted and didn’t appear to have been opened recently, but he retrieved bolt cutters from his trunk and snapped it.
Dust and cobwebs assaulted him as he pried up the lid and shone the light inside. A rancid odor hit him, swirling upward, and he had to turn his head and take a deep breath to stifle a reaction.
He clenched the flashlight, then removed his gun from his holster and held it at the ready as he slowly inched down the steps. He coughed as dust floated upward, and the wood step creaked, a rung snapping with his weight. He aimed the light around the interior of the shelter, noting a wall of shelves filled with canned goods that had probably been there for years.
On the ground, bags of what looked like flour and sugar had been ripped open and dug through by animals.
But the skeleton in the corner stopped him cold. Decay had eroded the body, the eye sockets bulging, the bones a dull gray.
Dammit, he’d thought he might find Thoreau, but this body had been here for a long time.
Who the hell was it?
Chapter Seven
Rose surveyed the outside of the cabin, searching for a crawl space or any other place a body could be left, but found nothing. Wind stirred the dust around her, sending twigs flying across the dry land. In spite of the chill in the air, nerves made perspiration dampen her clothes as she walked back to the underground storm cellar.
Maddox emerged, wiping dirt from his face, his eyes stormy.
“You found Thad?”
“No,” he said. “But there’s a skeleton down there in that pit.”
Rose’s breath caught. “What? Who is it?”
His massive shoulders lifted into a shrug. “I don’t know. It’s been down there for a while.” He lifted his cowboy hat and wiped his face with the back of his hand. “I’ll have to call the sheriff in Cheyenne and report this.”
Rose’s lungs strained for air. If he called in other law enforcement, he’d have to explain about Thad.
“I want to search the property first,” Maddox said. “Then we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”
Rose’s mind raced. He thought there might be more than one skeleton on the property.
And who did the remains in the storm cellar belong to? Had Thad known the remains were there?
The fact that he’d brought her here to kill her might mean that he’d murdered before...
Maddox gestured toward the woods leading to the creek, and she followed him through the brush. “Should we split up?”
Maddox shook his head. “No, stay with me.”
Rose didn’t like the hard look in his eyes. Did he want her with him because he was afraid Thad or the other man might be here hiding out, ready to pounce on them? Or because he didn’t trust her?
* * *
FINDING THAT SKELETON didn’t sit well with Maddox. Dammit, if Thoreau had succeeded in killing Rose, he could have left her body in that cellar to rot just like the other man, and no one would have ever known.
He’d have to call in a forensic specialist to identify the skeleton and determine cause of death. Knowing that might lead him to his killer.
The even bigger question—was his death connected to Rose?
He surveyed the ground studying the weeds, dry grass, scrub brush and bushes, searching for any sign that the land had been recently disturbed.
An animal skittered across the woods, and Rose startled.
His senses alert, he scanned the area.
“It was a prairie dog,” he said as he spotted the animal running through the weeds.
He spent the next half hour scrutinizing the land, inch by inch, pausing to examine loose clumps of dirt and patches of weeds that might indicate footprints or foul play. He found the remains of an animal’s carcass that had been mauled and ravaged, but no human remains.
The wind picked up, clouding the air with dust, and he stumbled over a tree stump and some branches a few feet from the creek. A group of stones were piled in one spot, drawing his gaze to them.
Rose hovered behind him. “What is it?”
He yanked away the smaller stones, then the larger one. “I don’t know, we’ll see.” Using a stick, he dug away the dirt, his skin crawling, when a few inches in, the stick hit bone.
Using his hands he brushed away more dirt, dread settling in the pit of his stomach. The skeleton of a person’s hand was poking through the dirt.
* * *
“OH, MY GOD,” Rose said in a choked whisper. “There’s someone buried here.”
“It looks that way.”
Rose’s stomach lurched. “Do you think it’s Thad?”
Maddox shook his head. “No, it’s just bones.”
Rose’s insides quivered as she studied the stones that Maddox had moved aside to unearth the remains “If the same person killed both of these people, why bury one and not the other?”
“Good question.” Maddox brushed his hands together to shake off the dirt. “They could have been put here at different times.”
The wind picked up, swirling leaves and loose twigs around her feet as she looked around them. What was this place, some kind of makeshift graveyard for a killer’s victims?
You could have been among them.
The thought nauseated her.
“Under the circumstances, I’d better call the sheriff in Cheyenne. We need a team to search and make sure there aren’t more skeletons here.”
“You think Thad knew about these?”
“I don’t know.” Maddox’s jaw tightened. “If he did, it means he’s connected to these deaths. Finding out their identities may lead us to more information about him.”
And her.
She heard the unspoken words and understood.
“Thad could be a hired killer, Rose. If so, murdering you wasn’t personal to Thoreau. The person who hired him had the motive.”
She jammed her hands on her hips. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want me dead.”
Maddox narrowed his eyes. “You can’t think of anyone who might want to hurt you?”
Rose shook her head, baffled. “I run an antiques store,” she said. “I don’t have a lot of money.”
“No siblings?”
“No.”
“Anyone jealous of your business?”
“It’s a small town, Maddox. You know that. Who would be intimidated by my store in Pistol Whip?”
He narrowed his eyes. “What about old boyfriends before Thoreau?”
Rose made a self-deprecating sound. “There weren’t any. At least no one serious.”
“Did your parents have any enemies?”
Rose sighed. “Not that I know of. They’re not exactly rich. And they kept to themselves. No enemies but no real close friends, either.”
“No big business ventures or investments?”
“No. They lived paycheck to paycheck.”
Maddox removed his phone from the clip on his belt and punched in a number. “This is Sheriff Maddox McCullen from Pistol Whip. I’m on some property in your jurisdiction and found skeletal remains. Send a crime team and ME, ASAP.” A pause. “Yes, I’ll text you the coordinates.”
He ended the call and sent the text, and Rose walked down to the creek and stared into the muddy water as she waited for the crime team.
Anxiety filled her though. Telling her story again would be difficult. But she had to know the truth about Thad and the skeletons they’d found.
After all, she could have been one of them.
* * *
MADDOX GRIMACED. Finding remains on the land where Rose’s fiancé/attacker had planned to leave her body couldn’t be coincidental.
But how were they related? She didn’t seem to know they were here, claimed to have no enemies and appeared to have no idea why Thoreau planned to kill her.
He started toward her, but twigs snapped to the right, and he jerked his head sideways. A shadow flickered in the corner of his eye, and he noted movement. An animal or...Thoreau?
Gripping his weapon, he studied the area and saw more movement. Bushes parted. Bugs swarmed, and a vulture circled above, its talons bared as it swooped toward the ground.