Bitter Past, page 17
These were her official duties as county coroner, but given the state of the remains, Zak hadn’t felt there was any urgency to the task. “Kenny has secured the scene. I’ve asked him to walk you out there when you’re ready.”
“Are we going to do a grid search?”
“Definitely. I’m going to call on the State to help. Hopefully we’ll get a team assembled sometime tomorrow.” All too often Zak had seen an investigation compromised because an egotistical sheriff had asked for help too late in the game. He didn’t want to make that mistake.
“Not before the parade, I hope. I know how much you love driving your sheriff-mobile and tossing candy to the kiddies.”
He grimaced. “Realistically, I can’t see us ready to go out until the afternoon.”
“Have you heard the latest forecast?”
“Last I checked it was more of the same. Hot and dry with very little wind.”
“Well, now they’re calling for a thunderstorm tomorrow afternoon.”
“That’s not great.”
“No. What was Sam doing, alone, in the forest at that time of night? Do you buy Edward’s story about tracking wolverines?”
“I didn’t initially. But Sam is a professional hunter and tracker, and the wolverine is known to be nocturnal.”
“Okay, but if that was his plan, wouldn’t he at least tell his wife?”
“Myrtle says Sam could be impulsive. But I agree with you. This was taking impulsive to the extreme. And it wasn’t as if he’d had a lot to drink. Just two beers over the course of the evening.”
“And you really have no clue how Sam died?”
Zak pulled out his phone to show her the pictures.
“Oh God, Zak. There’s hardly anything left of him.”
“Apparently wolverines can chew through bones and even teeth. It’s also possible the wolverine tore off a chunk of the carcass and stashed it somewhere to eat later. We’ll find out when we do our grid search.”
“How gruesome. Ugh. Could that be how he died? Wolverine attack?”
“According to Shawn, wolverines normally steer clear of humans. No, I think they were the cleanup crew for something more sinister.”
His wife gave him a closer look. “You’re not just tired, are you? This case is getting to you.”
“Yeah. You and I have worked some tricky files before. But I’ve never felt so thoroughly perplexed. My gut tells me that everything has to be related—the blackmail note, Eve Brooks’s disappearance all those years ago, Brent Culver’s death, and now Sam’s. But how? And who else is at risk while I’m scrambling around in the dark, getting nowhere?”
Nadine gave him a fierce hug. “Zak, you’ll figure this out. Just take it step by step, like you always do.”
He wasn’t so confident, but he sure as hell couldn’t afford a personal meltdown. “I’d better get back.”
“Can’t you take time for breakfast, at least?”
“I’ll grab something at the Snowdrift.”
*
It had been a rough night, and in some ways an even rougher morning. Zak was looking forward to a quiet ten minutes to enjoy his coffee and a cinnamon bun. But when he spotted Joelle at a window table by herself, he nixed the plan and asked if he could join her.
Joelle sighed, then waved at the empty half of the booth. “Go ahead.”
Once he was settled, Joelle said, “I heard you found a body. And I saw your vehicle parked at Myrtle’s this morning. So it’s Sam for sure?”
“Can’t be a hundred percent certain without a DNA test. But it looks that way.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled to the photo he’d taken of the hunting blind. “Does this look like the spot where you found that necklace? Sorry, it was night, so the photo isn’t the best.”
She studied the picture. “Yes. That’s it. Is that where you found Sam?”
“In the same clearing. We’ll be taking a team up for a proper grid search of the area tomorrow. Maybe we’ll get some answers then. In the meantime, I wish you’d leave town. Something bad is going on here and I don’t want any more people hurt.”
“I’m not a coward,” she said. “And I hate to get bullied out of a place. But I’m coming around to your way of thinking. Look what I found on my welcome mat this morning.”
This time she pulled out her phone and showed him a picture of a bird with a broken neck. Not just broken but twisted a hundred and eighty degrees. Birds didn’t break their necks that way without help.
“Poor whiskey jack,” Joelle said sadly. “I’d been feeding him crackers and dog treats. He’d become quite tame.”
“Looks like someone took advantage of his trusting nature. Did you hear anything suspicious last night?”
She nodded. “Just after dark I heard footsteps outside my cottage, then on the porch. That must have been when this person dropped the poor whiskey jack onto the welcome mat.”
“You should have called me.”
“You were out looking for Sam. I figured I’d be safe locked inside the cottage.”
He shook his head, but he had to admit that with the few resources at his disposal, he couldn’t have sent anyone out to her place even if she had called. “Now that we’ve got a lock on the location of the hunting blind, you’re free to head home immediately. This afternoon would be good.”
“I promised Myrtle I would cover for her at the kiddie craft table tomorrow morning. But as soon as that’s done with, I’ll pack up and leave.”
“Until then—be careful.”
She put a hand on her cross-body bag. “I will. You too, Sheriff.”
After Joelle left, Patsy showed up at his table with a coffeepot to offer him a refill. “What is going on in this town, Zak? If anyone should be safe out in the forest, it was Sam Ward.”
“I agree.”
“So he was murdered?”
“Don’t go putting words into my mouth, Patsy,” he admonished. Even though she was probably right.
*
Joelle’s brain was so fried that she drove back to the cottage on autopilot. She wondered if she should pay a call to Myrtle, but judging by the number of vehicles parked by and around the garage, she and Shawn already had a houseful of visitors. Joelle decided to pay her respects later.
As Joelle rounded the side of the house, she heard the whir of an electric tool. A moment later, she saw Shawn, stripped to his jeans, replacing the rotten porch step with a new board. The sun shone on his bronzed, bare back, and picked up gold tints in his sandy hair. He had the sort of long, slender body that would look equally good in plain jeans and a T-shirt, or a slim-fitting business suit.
Not that she imagined Shawn had much need to wear suits.
She waited until he was finished operating the electric drill before calling out hello.
He looked surprised to see her. “Hoped I could finish this before you got home.”
“You shouldn’t have bothered. Shawn, I’ve heard about your father. I’m so very sorry.”
“Thanks. My thoughts keep running around in circles. I wanted to go out to the forest and see what happened for myself, but Zak asked me to wait until tomorrow. He’s gathering a group of experts to do a thorough sweep of the area. In the meantime, I figured this little project would distract me.”
Joelle tried not to admire his unexpectedly chiseled abs as he slipped on his T-shirt. “I’m surprised Trix hasn’t been barking her head off at you.”
“She’s supervising.” He gestured to the front window, where Trix was watching them avidly, her pink tongue on full display. She must be standing on her favorite chair. Joelle hurried up the steps—now perfectly solid thanks to Shawn’s efforts—to unlock the door. Trix came bounding out to the porch and straight to Shawn.
As usual, Joelle was chopped liver. No, dogs probably loved chopped liver. She was much lower on the scale than that.
“That’s a good girl.” Shawn roughed up the fur around her neck, then scratched down her back and under her chin. Then he rose to his full height. “Zak said they found Dad close to where Trix dug up that necklace.”
“Yeah, I just ran into Zak at the Snowdrift and he mentioned that.”
“That can’t be a coincidence.”
“You wouldn’t think so.”
“Mom believes Dad’s death was accidental. Me, I don’t buy it.”
“You’re thinking he was murdered?”
Shawn nodded. “I don’t know what the hell is going on in this county. But I’ve been thinking about that threat your sister got. Maybe you should leave and go someplace safer. Not that I want you to go,” he added quickly. “But given what happened to Dad…”
“I got another threat last night.” She showed him the picture of the dead bird, and he sucked in a breath.
“Christ.” He shook his head. “Jo, you have to go.”
“I plan to. After I volunteer at the kids’ craft table tomorrow morning.”
“Screw that. Go tonight. Go now.”
“I promised your mom I’d take her place at the festival. She’s been so good to me, it’s the least I can do.”
“That’s kind of you. But if you’re really determined to stay one more night, I don’t want you alone in the cottage.”
Joelle thought of the noises she’d heard last night. Even a twig blowing in the breeze tonight would wind her up. If she stayed in the cottage, she likely would not sleep a minute. But what were her options? “I guess I could pack up a suitcase and take Trix to a motel.”
“You’d be lucky to find a vacancy at this time of year. Let me talk to Mom first. I think I can come up with a better plan.”
*
When Joelle found out Shawn’s plan was for her to stay at his mother’s house—along with him, and his gun—she tried to protest.
“Your mom is in no condition to have a house guest.”
But an hour later, Myrtle came to the cottage and insisted. “I’ll feel better with more people in the house. And I agree with Shawn. It’s not safe for you to be alone in the cottage right now.”
Joelle didn’t identify with the kind of woman who needed a man to protect her, but there was safety in numbers, and she was glad to fall in line.
They had a little problem introducing Trix to the cats, but after some barking and hissing, and one well-timed swipe of Minerva’s claws, boundaries were established. Trix stuck close to Joelle after that, which made for an interesting change. Maybe the dog was growing just a wee bit fond of her?
An hour before dinner, Myrtle went out to work in her garden. “I need to be outside and alone for a while. We have plenty of casseroles in the fridge for dinner.”
“It’s too hot for a casserole,” Shawn said. “I’ll make some gazpacho and a salad.”
“I’ll help,” Joelle offered. “Though I should warn you. My skills are limited. I can set an oven to four hundred and twenty-five degrees and also I’m good at opening frozen pizza boxes.”
Shawn gave a one-sided grin. “I’ll put you in charge of the wine.”
“Good call.”
At six o’clock Myrtle came in from the garden, exchanging her gardening shoes for her Birkenstocks. She disappeared into the bathroom, then returned. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she seemed composed.
Joelle handed her a glass of Chablis. “Thank you for letting me stay here tonight.”
“Of course,” Myrtle said, bending to pet Trix. “I think we all need to be careful and stick together until Zak figures out what’s going on. I said the same to my friends this afternoon. They probably consider me paranoid, but better safe than sorry.”
“I agree we’ve got to be careful,” Shawn said, without looking up from cutting tomatoes. “Especially those of us who knew about Eve Brooks.”
“Why do you say that, son?”
“They found Dad near the same place Joelle found Eve’s necklace. That’s got to mean something.”
Myrtle closed her eyes and sighed. “We never should have tried to cover that up. You kids were so young, with your futures all ahead of you. We were afraid that if you told Sheriff Ford what you saw, you’d be guilty by association.”
“Not that Ford would have done much about it,” Shawn said.
“True enough.”
They ate dinner on the back deck. Shawn ladled out cold gazpacho while Joelle plated the Caprese salad.
Shawn was definitely growing on Jo. He had impressive kitchen skills, as well as a decent ability to wield an electric drill. Not that long ago the idea of one day having a partner she could cook with, laugh with, and share her thoughts with had felt unattainable. Why now, in the middle of all this chaos, was she having these thoughts about Shawn?
The bright flavors of the soup and the creamy blend of cheese, tomato, and basil in the salad made the meal perfect for a hot, summer evening. But neither Shawn nor Myrtle had much of an appetite. Halfway through the meal, Myrtle’s phone rang. She glanced at the display.
“It’s my sister. Excuse me.” She got up from the table and went into the house.
“Her sister lives on a ranch near Hamilton,” Shawn explained. “Growing up we used to go there for Christmas. Aunt Erma and Uncle Bill didn’t have any children, so they used to spoil me rotten. I loved it.”
“Did you mind being an only child?” Joelle hadn’t always gotten along with her sister, but she’d never regretted having one.
“I’m not sure where my parents would have put another kid,” Shawn said with a touch of humor. “Back then we had a cat and a dog, plus I had an ant colony, and a pet snake, and I was always bringing home wounded birds and small woodland creatures. Once I even rescued a baby skunk. That wasn’t a popular move on my part.”
“You sound like you were an interesting kid.”
“That’s putting it politely.” He paused as his mother came back outside. “How’s Aunt Erma?”
“Worried about us. She can’t leave the ranch right now because she’s caring for a sick calf, but she invited me to come spend the day with her tomorrow.”
“You want to go?” Shawn asked.
“It would be nice to escape from all the madness for a few hours. But I’m not sure I’m up to the drive.”
“I’ll take you. I feel like we should stick together for a bit.” Shawn got up and put an arm around his mother’s back. “You had enough to eat?”
She nodded. “I’m going to take a sleeping pill and go up to my room. Joelle, did Shawn show you the guest room upstairs?”
“Yes, when he carried my suitcase up for me.”
“Good. There are clean towels on the shelf in the guest bath.”
“Don’t worry about me. I hope you get some sleep, Myrtle.”
“Thanks, dear. Shawn, you’ll sleep in your old room?”
“Yes, right here on the main floor. If trouble shows up, he’ll have to get past me to get to either of you. And I’ve got my gun.”
“Plus we have a guard dog,” Joelle added. “Trix wouldn’t hurt a flea, but she’s good at sounding the alarm if anyone tries to break in.”
Myrtle nodded. “Okay. See you in the morning.”
Joelle felt ready to collapse into bed too, but instead she started stacking dishes to take them inside. When Shawn began to help, she shook her head.
“If you’ve got stuff to do—phone calls, emails—please go ahead. I can handle the cleanup.” Besides, tired as she was, she wasn’t looking forward to sleeping. She was sure the nightmares would be back, worse than ever.
“I’d rather keep busy. My head is spinning. Nothing feels real. I can’t believe my dad is really gone.”
“I’m sorry. It’s awful.”
Shawn looked at her with sympathy. “For your family the nightmare began weeks ago with your brother-in-law’s accident.”
She nodded. “Think about the Brooks family. For them the pain goes back decades.”
“Yeah, thanks to the five of us who found the body and never reported it.”
“You at least told your parents,” Joelle said. “I’m honestly surprised they didn’t call the Sheriff right away. I’m pretty sure that’s what my mom and dad would have done in those circumstances.”
“My mom had regrets about that. I guess they were trying to protect us.”
They carried the dirty plates and leftover food into the house, then Shawn carefully locked and bolted the glass patio doors.
“What should I do with the leftovers?” she asked.
Shawn pulled out two containers with lids. As she filled them with the leftover soup and salad, he loaded the dishwasher.
“Do you think the same person who killed Eve also killed my father?” he asked.
“I do. But I have no clue who it is. The only thing I’m pretty sure about is that Wyatt sent the blackmail letter to Brent.”
“Wyatt?”
She put the filled containers in the fridge then started running a sink of hot soapy water to wash the long-stemmed wineglasses. “It’s no secret they have money problems at the ranch. Plus I heard he was recently diagnosed with MS. That’s going to really ramp up the fiscal pressure.”
“I agree Wyatt has a significant financial need. But I’ve known him most of my life and I can’t see him stooping to extortion.”
Joelle had to concede that Shawn knew Wyatt much better than her. “If not Wyatt, then who?”
“I honestly don’t know. What time are you scheduled at the kiddie craft table tomorrow?”
“From ten until noon. But I thought I’d go early for the pancake breakfast and parade. It starts at eight, right?”
“Yeah. I was supposed to man our forest fire prevention booth. But I’ve already let my office know I can’t do it. I’m not sure what time Mom will want to hit the road.” He dried a wineglass carefully. “Are you leaving for Whitefish right after your volunteer stint?”
“I’m going to have to come back to get Trix. It’ll be too hot to leave her in the Jeep.”
“Maybe in the morning you should put her back in the cottage to avoid any issues with the cats.”
“Good thinking.”
“Would you think I’m terribly nosy if I asked you a personal question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Are you in a relationship?”
