by Julie Miller
“I wish you lived in town so I could keep a closer eye on you.” Brandon caught her hand where she clutched Maxie’s leash and squeezed it. “You know how much I care. When Doc Russell said you were involved in this mess...”
“I’m fine. Truly.” She squeezed her fingers around his before pulling away. Ava seized upon the acrid odor and smudges of soot and dust clinging to his clothes to distract him from focusing on her any longer. “But you, on the other hand, smell like smoke. Did you trade in your badge and become a firefighter?”
“Oh, that.” He swatted at his short sleeves and chest, stirring up a cloud of dust, then frowned and wiped at the streak of grime on his shoulder. But his effort to clean the rusty brown swath of mud and grease only spread the stain onto his chest.
“Stop,” Ava chided with a slight smile, grabbing his wrist and pulling it away. “You’re making it worse. You need to rinse off that mud and rust?—blood?—then put some pretreatment on it and wash it before the stain sets.”
She released him almost as soon as she’d touched him. The man really did need a woman to reel him in and take care of him, but she wasn’t volunteering for the job. Still, his smile broadened at even that most practical of attention she paid him.
“Thanks. I’ll do that as soon as I chat with our mystery man.” He picked up his hat and worked the brim between his hands. “There was a fire at Old Man Harold’s junkyard. Nobody hurt. But what looked like a late-model SUV and the cars on either side of it are a total waste. I did what I could to contain it before the VFD got there, but I doubt he’s even going to be able to salvage parts. The three vehicles must have been burning for a while before he sobered up enough to crawl out of his recliner and call it in. I’m tempted to cite him for willful destruction of property.”
“But if it’s his junkyard?”
Brandon could look dead serious when he needed to, and he wasn’t joking about this. “We’ve had plenty of rain this summer. But we’re coming up on fire season. I doubt we’ll get any more precipitation until snow falls. That fire had ignited the grass. If it got beyond his property line, we might be talking forest fire and I’d be out setting up roadblocks and diverting tourists back into the valley.”
“Was it deliberately set?” Why was she asking? Why wasn’t she on her way home right now? What curious suspicion kept prolonging this conversation?
Brandon nodded. “An arson investigator will need to confirm my observation, but yeah. There were pour marks. Unless Mr. Harold dropped his bottle of whiskey and a lit cigarette before he went inside and passed out, I’d say somebody set those cars on fire. The perp wanted them burned beyond recognition.” He looked over her head toward the curtained-off area and acknowledged Kent Russell joining them at the counter. “That’s another reason I want to chat with the guy you brought in.”
“You think he had something to do with the fire?”
“He could have been destroying evidence.”
Ava hadn’t smelled smoke or any kind of flammable liquid on Larkin, the way she had on Brandon’s clothes. But a man setting a fire wouldn’t stick around to fight it the way Brandon apparently had been battling with the flames and its aftermath. “My place is a good twelve miles from Mr. Harold’s junkyard. That’s a long way to hike in his condition. You can’t place him at the junkyard.”
“Not yet.” Brandon reached around her to shake Dr. Russell’s hand. “Doc.”
“Sheriff. I heard about the fire. Is Mr. Harold okay? I’m running out of beds in my clinic.”
“That old coot’s fine. The volunteer firefighters were still there when I left, making sure there were no stray hotspots. I fixed him a pot of coffee and warned him to drink it instead of the whiskey, or he could lose his whole place next time. He was too far out of it to even notice any trespassers.” Brandon directed his smile at Ava. “I go a month dealing with nothing but speeding tickets and running rowdy teenagers home to Mom and Dad—and in one day I get hit with a mysterious fire, a gunshot victim and Ava comin’ to town when it ain’t even Monday. That, in itself, tells me this guy is trouble. You’re sure he didn’t hurt you?”
He reached out with one finger to brush aside a tendril of hair that fell over her cheek. Although his indulgent smile never wavered, she saw the exact moment his gaze fell to the scar that bisected her cheek. She felt the hesitation in his touch and did him the favor of turning her head and pulling away. She supposed Brandon still saw her in his mind’s eye the way she’d looked twenty years ago, and the imperfections on her skin now were jarring.
Why couldn’t he see that she was a different woman from the girl he’d professed to love and move on? “Positive. Any blood you saw in my truck is his, not mine.”
“And you’ve got no idea where he came from or who he is?” She shook her head. Brandon propped his hands at his waist, beside his holstered gun and handcuffs. “We’ve got a lot of tourists this time of year. Maybe he had a car accident or crossed somebody at Dolan’s Bar and got in a fight.”
Ava’s tolerance for answering questions and pretending she was okay being around so many people was wearing thin. “I really need to get Maxie home. I don’t know this man. Can’t you leave me out of your investigation? He showed up on my front porch and collapsed. End of story. I don’t know anything about burning cars. I didn’t hear any gunshots. I’m just the good Samaritan who drove him into town.”
Dr. Russell reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, plastic bag. “You’re the good Samaritan who saved his life.” He handed the bag to Brandon. “Here’s the slug I took out of John Doe’s shoulder. It’s a 9 mil.”
Brandon inspected the bloodstained projectile inside the bag before tucking it into the pocket of his jeans. “That’s good.”
“Good?” The doctor and Ava echoed together.
“Yeah. I was worried you were going to tell me Ava had shot him for coming onto her land. But since she favors buckshot, I can clear her of any suspicion.” Had she really been a suspect in Brandon’s eyes? Or was this more of his effort to show how well he thought he knew her, and how close he wanted them to be? Her distress must have shown on her face because he winked. “I’m teasin’ you, Ave.” He finally pulled a pen and notepad from his shirt pocket and jotted some information. “Anything else either of you can tell me?”
“The patient’s other injuries are contact wounds,” Dr. Russell explained, perhaps even less amused by the teasing than Ava was. “He took a bad fall.”
Ava nodded. “He told me he remembered rolling off the edge of a cliff.”
“Tumbling down a mountainside would certainly account for the injuries I stitched up. He’s lucky he didn’t break anything. He’s got plenty of bruises, inside and out, though.” With a weary sigh, Dr. Russell pulled back the front of his lab coat and hooked his fingers into the pockets of his jeans. “He said his name is Larkin Bonecrusher. What do you make of that?”
Brandon snorted a laugh. “That’s an alias if I ever heard one.”
“Obviously. But why not come up with John Smith or Bob Jones if he wanted to hide his identity? Bonecrusher is a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Is he on something? Delusional?”
“I didn’t detect any drugs in his system. But he took at least one good blow to the head, so I believe his amnesia is real. Now whether it’s permanent, I can’t tell you. If he’s not lucid in the next twenty-four hours, I’m going to refer him to a neurologist in Jackson. I’d prefer it if you allowed him a good night’s sleep before you question him. He might remember more then.”
“You know the drill, Doc. Procedure says I’ve got to talk to him as soon as possible, while his memories are still fresh.”
“What memories? My patient needs his rest. Trust me, you’ll get better answers in the morning.”
“I need answers now. What if I’ve got a shooter running around my county? Or another accident victim wh
o wasn’t as lucky as this guy to see the inside of a hospital?” She felt the focus of both men shift to her. “Ava, did he say anything to you?”
Um, loves my books. Says I have beautiful eyes. Thinks my dog is a dragon. None of which she would share with these two men. “He was in and out of consciousness. Sorry I can’t—” She jumped at the beeping of an alarm from the computer behind her.
Kent Russell dashed around the counter and checked the monitor on the desk. “Damn it. Garcia’s coding again.” He shouted toward the nurse behind the curtain as he ran down the hall. “Leslie! I need the crash cart in Room One. Stat.”
The nurse popped through the curtain surrounding Larkin and raced down the hallway after Dr. Russell. The two medical professionals disappeared into separate rooms a few seconds before Leslie pushed the crash cart across the hall as they rushed to save Mr. Garcia’s life.
Ava stroked her fingers over the top of Maxie’s head. “Poor Mr. Garcia. Does he have any family left in the area?”
But there was no one listening to her concerns. When she turned to see why Brandon hadn’t responded, she saw him striding over to the privacy area. With a tug on the leash, Maxie fell into step beside her as she hurried across the room to catch Brandon by the elbow. He’d pulled back the edge of the curtain, but stopped when he saw the battered patient, propped up on the bed, fast asleep. At least, the veteran Marine with the bruised temple and crisp white sling resting atop his chest seemed to be sleeping. His arm and chest moved up and down in deep, even breaths, but she couldn’t help but wonder if those silvery-green eyes behind those dark gold lashes were fully aware of being watched. Ava dropped her voice to a whisper and tugged at the sheriff’s arm. “What are you doing?”
The long breath that hissed between his teeth spoke of frustration and fatigue. “Realizing that my long day is about to get even longer.” He pulled the curtain to again and patted Ava’s hand where it rested in the crook of his elbow. “I’m going to have to hang out here until he’s able to answer some questions.”
“Dr. Russell said he needed to sleep tonight.”
He tapped the badge on his chest. “I took an oath to protect this county.”
“And the doctor took an oath to protect his patient.” Having passed the three-second mark, Ava pulled her hand from his skin and straightened his collar, which had gotten stuck in the muddy mess on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go home and clean up, put this shirt in the wash and then come back. By then, maybe Mr...Bonecrusher...will be awake and you’ll have better luck. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten dinner yet, either.”
Brandon grinned. “Is that an invitation?”
“I need to take Maxie for a walk before we hit the road. It’s been a while since she’s done her business.”
“I’ll walk you to your truck. I’ll come back later when Doc Russell can be here, so he won’t accuse me of bullying his patient.”
He put his hat on and led the way to the door to open it for her and Maxie. He fell into step beside her as they crossed the nearly deserted parking lot to the pine trees and boulders where she’d parked. The mountain air had cooled a few degrees from when she’d arrived. But the sun was already forming a pinkish-red glow over the peaks of the Wyoming Range to the west. She wasn’t going to make it home before dark.
Brandon moved to the back of the truck, where he opened the tailgate to access Maxie’s kennel.
“She’ll ride up front with me.”
“You spoil that dog.”
“I know.” While Brandon closed the tailgate, Ava pressed her key fob to unlock the door, and reached behind the seat to retrieve a plastic waste bag for the dog. “If you need me to make a formal statement, you can call me.”
“I’ll do that.” When she turned around, she found Brandon blocking the triangle formed by the open door and truck frame. Thank goodness Maxie was there, forcing a bit of distance between them. Had he meant to trap her here? Or was he unaware of his actions and how they affected her? “Unless you let me take you to lunch tomorrow? I’ll get my report typed up, and we could handle the paperwork then. I’d be happy to drive out to get you and—”
“No.” She tamped down on the urge to tell him to back out of her personal space. He didn’t understand her anxieties, and she didn’t have the time, energy or interest in explaining them to him again. “Call me. I can stop by your office on Monday if you need me to sign something.” She shook the waste bag in the air, emphasizing that she was ready to focus on other things now besides the upheaval of her day.
“All right. Whatever you say. I’ve got your number.” Although it was obvious he was disappointed by her refusal, Brandon still smiled and leaned in to kiss her. Wondering if she was even interested in remaining friends with a man this thickheaded, Ava turned her head to offer him her cheek. He hesitated at the scar, then kissed her forehead instead. “Good night, Ave.”
“Good night.”
He finally retreated far enough to allow Maxie to rise to her feet and tug on the leash. Walking the dog wasn’t just an excuse for ending the conversation. “Good night, girl.” He scuffed his hands around Maxie’s ears and patted her flanks. “Enjoy your walk.” Finally, he circled around her truck and headed back to his black-and-white SUV. “I’ll let you know if I find out anything about this guy.”
“Sounds good.”
Once he was inside his SUV, Brandon pulled out his cell phone and tucked the hands-free earpiece into his ear, probably calling in his location to his office. His headlights went on as he pulled out of the parking lot, reminding Ava that she needed to get moving. “Come on, Maxie. Let’s make this fast.”
But, of course, when she wanted to settle for a short walk around the perimeter of the parking lot, Maxie insisted on stretching her legs and sniffing all the town smells that weren’t evident in the woods around the cabin where she usually roamed. They stopped at nearly every rock and tree and revisited a couple of them twice. Since Maxie had been such a trouper with the day’s unusual events, and had had her back more than once throughout the day, Ava couldn’t begrudge the dog the exercise she needed. Even though the sun was setting and their stomachs were grumbling from missing dinner, at least they were alone now. Ava felt her nerves relaxing and the stress of the day melting away beneath her feet. Today had been an anomaly. Tomorrow she could go back to being safe. Isolated. A little bored, perhaps. Frustrated by a book that wouldn’t write itself. Emotionally paralyzed and driven into seclusion by a sadistic serial abductor who continued to elude the police. Frozen in a life that no longer seemed to be going anywhere. But safe.
After dropping Maxie’s mess into the public trash can and cleaning her hands with a disinfecting wipe from her purse, Ava led Maxie back to her truck. She made her routine safety check underneath the truck and peeked through the windows before she opened the door. “Maxie, up.”
While the big dog stretched out across the seat and rested her head on Ava’s thigh, Ava buckled up and drove away. Nearly every angled parking slot on Main Street was full, and lights were blazing from Dolan’s Bar, the more touristy Cowboy Bar, Buckskin Barbecue, and even Kris DeKamp’s Koffee Shop. The newspaper office and Sue Schulman’s General Store, full of practical clothes and gear as well as almost any souvenir a tourist could want, were closed for the night. The sheriff’s office, volunteer fire department, a small grocery and other local businesses were a block to the east. Farther up the road, and down into the valley in the opposite direction, away from the hub of town, were rental homes, ranches and resort lodges. Some catered to skiing, others offered spa services or outdoor activities or a conference center. Closer to the tree line at the top of the peak was a lodge owned by a company called BDS. Unless they worked there, most of the locals never saw the luxury stone lodge because the best view of the Wind River Mountains and Hoback River Basin came with a steep price.
Ava inhaled a deep breath of the night air coming throu
gh her open windows. Music from the bars and voices from open doorways and the sidewalk filled the air as Ava cruised through downtown Pole Axe.
It was a charming town that felt as far away from her life in Chicago as she could get.
She made it through the first stoplight. But when she stopped at the intersection to turn onto the highway, a shadow fell over the ambient light reflecting in her rearview mirror. She looked up, thinking a truck had pulled up behind her. Instead of another vehicle, the shadow was rising right from the back of her truck. Something was moving beneath the tarp that she’d anchored over Maxie’s traveling crate. “What the...?”
Everything in Ava tensed. Someone was in the back of her truck. The shadowy figure grew larger, took the shape of a man, vaulted over the side onto the road. The doors were locked. She pushed the button to raise the windows. But the figure was moving forward, not running away.
She eyed the red light. Cursed the cross traffic that wouldn’t allow her to stomp on the gas and leave the hitchhiker on the side of the road.
The damn windows were taking too long.
She reached for the glove box where she’d stowed Larkin’s handgun, but she cowered back as a strong arm reached over the top of the window, unlocked the door and climbed inside. Maxie pushed to her feet and spun around, filling the cab of the truck. But a hushed command, a gentle touch, and she plopped her butt down beside Ava as the man pulled the blanket she’d used earlier over his shoulders and hunkered down as much as he could between the seat and the dashboard.
Larkin Bonecrusher.
Ava swore as silvery-green eyes bored into hers. “I knew you weren’t asleep.”
“I can’t stay there,” he whispered in a tight, deep-pitched voice. His breathing was as noisy and labored as her own, although she suspected for different reasons. Her so-called guard dog stretched out across the seat, content to have him back in the truck.