Seek and Find Page 17

  Bucks joined them. “No body yet, but the truck’s wedged in there pretty deep. Going to need some heavy equipment to uncork it. Messaged Flagstaff and they’re sending a team, but it’s gonna be tomorrow late, best case. Terrain’s too unstable to send the dogs or search-and-rescue personnel at the moment.”

  “Great,” James said.

  “And here’s a news flash. Marlton found a stash of illicit cigarettes at Jennings’s lumberyard when he was helping with the cleanup. It links King to the protection racket, circumstantially, anyway. I...” When he noticed Madison standing there, he nodded at her and about-faced. “We’ll talk more in the briefing room.”

  Ryder jutted his chin at James. “Call you later to set up the details.”

  For what? she wondered, and then it occurred to her. Tomorrow night was the police fund-raiser dance. How had she forgotten? Falkner might be on the loose, but there was another case to put to rest. Was there or wasn’t there a serial killer at large in Desert Valley? James Harrison was going to offer himself up on a platter in order to find out.

  Eighteen

  Madison felt as if her feet would wear a path in the floor for all the pacing she did in the hours before the dance. She tried to force her mind back to other matters. King and his dirty cigarettes were now firmly linked to Albert Jennings’s accident. It made sense with what she knew. Falkner was threatening Jennings to pay protection money and store the smuggled cigarettes on his property. When he refused... She shivered, recalling the shrieks and groans of the collapsing trailer and the few terrifying moments when she’d believed James dead. It almost made her forget about their tiff over her story. Almost. The clock approached six thirty.

  How was Ryder feeling, she wondered, on this anniversary of his wife’s shooting? Another death on what was supposed to be a happy evening. She knew rookies Miller and Riverton had been killed in the hours leading up to the event, and she was glad her cabin was only a few hundred yards from James’s cabin, where he’d been getting ready. There were police around with eyes on James’s every move, though she hadn’t seen any sign of them concealed in the woods.

  Madison went over what the police knew: last year and the year before, rookies Riverton and Miller, both blond, had been killed at their homes on the night of the dance. Five years ago, then-rookie Ryder Hayes’s wife had been killed on a dark path leading to her house, the same night. Ryder: also blond.

  As was James. Someone had it out for blond rookies? Why? Or was the hair color a coincidence? Was Ryder’s wife’s death connected? So many questions and no answers.

  Madison wasn’t sure she hoped there would be answers tonight. She didn’t like James being used as bait.

  James had gone out about an hour before to deliver Hawk to his parents’ trailer for safekeeping, and she’d watched from her kitchen window. He’d lingered on his way back, eyes raking the tree line, scanning the porches of the trailers parked all around, resting for a moment on her cabin. She found herself desperately wanting to talk to him, but he was on duty, and she would not do anything to cause a distraction.

  But now, a half hour later, she saw him walking to her cabin door, so handsome in his formal uniform that her breath stilled for a moment. If she hadn’t known him, she probably never would have had the nerve to look in those startling blue eyes and talk to him. Stomach jumping, she answered his knock.

  “There’s protection here at the campground,” he said. “I’m going to have to leave for a while.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m supposed to be living in the police condo.”

  Her chest tightened. “So you’re going there and giving the killer the best chance to find you.”

  He didn’t answer, just gazed at her with eyes like troubled oceans.

  It was almost impossible not to tell him to be careful. Instead, she forced a light tone. “Don’t let anyone mess up that sharp uniform.”

  He smiled, looking down at his formal jacket and creased pants as if he’d forgotten that’s what he was wearing. “Anyway, I’ll check in with you later. I...” he paused and she waited, something about his tone setting her pulse humming. He took a breath. “If things were different, a police dance would have been fun.”

  “Yes.” If you weren’t trying to attract a killer, and I wasn’t a reporter who was in your way. If I trusted you completely and you trusted yourself. If, if, if.

  “Okay, well, good night, then.”

  “Good night, James.” She watched him walk to his car, strangely alone without Hawk galloping beside him.

  Just as the cabin settled into darkness again, her sister called.

  “You should come to the dance,” Kate said. “The whole town is going to be there.”

  “Along with you and Sterling?”

  “Don’t use that tone. We’re not on a serious date. I’m attending to enjoy some music and nice conversation, okay? So don’t make a big deal out of it. He’s a good guy and we’re starting off a friendship, that’s all. Just a dance and a glass of punch.”

  “Okay,” Madison said. “I can’t go, anyway. I don’t have a dress.”

  “Yes, you do. I brought it along with your other things yesterday, just in case. It’s hanging in your front closet. You should go to the dance and write a nice, normal story about people having a good time.”

  How odd to be getting life advice from her baby sister, but Kate seemed charged with a new confidence. A by-product of her relationship with Sterling? If so, Madison might need to rethink her feelings about that.

  And so as James made his way along to tempt a killer at his condo, she put on the green dress, piled her hair loosely on her head and pulled on a pair of pumps that her sister had thoughtfully included along with the dress.

  An hour later, as she entered the grange hall, the soft satin gown swished around her legs. Flickering hurricane lamps twined with flowers cast a golden glow over the old space. Her nervousness swelled as she searched, hoping she’d spot James quickly. There had been no sirens, no sign of police activity to indicate any attempt had been made on his life. Only silence—the long, painful kind.

  Hurry up, James. I won’t rest easy until I see you with my own eyes.

  * * *

  James could not make himself sit for another moment on the partially chewed chair in the condo. There had been nothing out of the ordinary, not so much as a car backfiring, let alone any stranger sightings or someone trying to break into the condo and kill him. Again he checked in with Ryder via the radio.

  “All clear,” Ryder said. “Let’s pack it in.”

  “It’s almost eight. Give it a few more minutes.”

  Ryder’s tone was heavy. “We’re not going to get any action, James. Pull the plug and get over to the hall.”

  Was it disappointment he heard in Ryder’s voice? How could it not be? Another year gone by searching for the perpetrator who’d murdered Melanie. Another chance to prove there was a serial killer at large, a chance that slipped further away with each passing moment.

  Had they been wrong the whole time? Riverton and Miller were accidental deaths, and Melanie an unrelated murder? He wanted to rip off his jacket, get Hawk and go follow the trail to find Falkner. At least that was something he could take action on, if he hadn’t been wrong about that, too. Instead he drove to the hall.

  The wind set the pine branches rattling in the area behind the hall. He knew his fellow cops had done a sweep of the grounds and the wooded shortcut between the center of town and the Ryder home—where Melanie Hayes had been shot. How badly had that hurt Ryder? Revisiting the spot where he’d lost the lady who had been his whole world? James was startled when a picture of a certain redheaded reporter swam into his brain.

  Focus, Harrison.

  He was able to do so until he walked in through the double doors and immediately set eyes on
the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

  Madison Coles.

  He stood there dumbly, until Carrie Dunleavy jostled his arm.

  “Hey, James. Glad you made it.”

  He tried to gather himself and gave Carrie a smile. The police department secretary had put some curls into her straight hair and wore a skirt and blouse. “Glad to see you, too.”

  Carrie was called away to help with the refreshment table, and James found himself drawn to Madison. She was magnificent, the emerald of her dress making her hair come alive with copper fire. Long lashes framed her brown eyes, and when she looked at him, he felt as if he’d been touched by a live wire.

  “I didn’t know you were coming,” James said finally.

  “I didn’t know I was, either. My sister talked me into it. I’m on duty.”

  “Duty?” he asked, still trying to make his senses work properly.

  “Writing a story for the lifestyle page of the Gazette.” She held up a hand. “Don’t worry. It’s just a fluff piece. I won’t mention the past.” Something changed in her eyes, and she lowered her voice and stepped closer. He got a whiff of some delicate perfume, heard the rustle of her skirt as she moved. “I take it nothing happened?”

  “Not so far.”

  She sighed. “That’s both good and bad news.”

  Her hair, her eyes, her dress. It was too much. “Beautiful.”

  “What?”

  His cheeks went hot and his body went cold. “You’re...you look beautiful.”

  She was still for a moment. “Thank you.”

  Beautiful? What was he doing? He searched for some topic to return them to safe conversational ground as his brother approached and clapped him on the back.

  “James,” Sterling said. He stood with Kate, who wore a soft pink gown and a jeweled clip in her hair. His eyes went to Madison, narrowing slightly. “You two here together?”

  “No...” James and Madison said in unison.

  Madison finished up. “No, Sterling. Don’t worry. We’re not on a date.” She gave him an elaborate wink. “Your brother is safe from the big, bad reporter.”

  Sterling’s mouth quirked. “Yeah, well, Kate’s been telling me I shouldn’t be so hard on you, but I’m still not convinced.”

  “Me neither,” Madison said. “I’m not sure you’re good enough for my sister.”

  James wondered what in the world he was supposed to say to intervene between the two when to his great relief, Sterling laughed. “I’m sure I’m not, but she’s certainly a woman who can cause a guy to try to improve himself.”

  Kate blushed.

  Sterling stood tall and straight, his demeanor calmer and more peaceful than James had seen since the days long ago when they were two teens riding horses and hauling hay.

  His brother arched a brow at Madison. “And what about you two?”

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” Madison said. “There is no ‘us two.’ I’m just here to write a story about the dance.” She caught her sister’s look. “A nice, normal story about people having fun with no murder and mayhem mixed in.”

  Though James forced a smile, her words cut into him, burrowing down inside. “There is no ‘us’...” But of course he’d known that. It was no surprise.

  No “us.”

  “We’re going to get some punch.” Kate tucked her arm through Sterling’s. “Do you two want to come?”

  James was saved from replying when Chief Jones caught his attention.

  “You go ahead,” James said. He turned to Madison and lifted his chin toward the chief. Madison nodded and followed her sister toward the punch table.

  “Okay. Come join us when you can,” Sterling said.

  The thought echoed dully in his mind, resonating there as he watched Madison walk away, hair like flame. There is no “us.”

  * * *

  Madison secured some suitably festive quotes from the partygoers, including ones from Carrie Dunleavy and Dennis Marlton. She took pictures with her phone. A happy story for a change, she thought as she scanned the crowd. Kate had been smart to suggest it.

  Her sister stood close to Sterling, holding his hand, her head barely reaching the height of his shoulders. At some remark he made, she threw her head back and laughed, the sound silvery and precious. Madison felt a tickle of something that was close to envy, but mostly happiness. Who was she to say Sterling’s past should preclude him from enjoying time with Kate if that was where things were headed? New path, new life, she thought, and she thanked God that her sister was happy, at least for now.

  James had slipped off somewhere. The event was well underway at almost nine o’clock, and it seemed the danger was over. Time of death for both rookies and Melanie Hayes had been before the start of the dance, so it looked as if James was in the clear. She’d gotten her story and pictures. It was time to go back to the cabin and write up the article. Her deadline for the protection-racket piece loomed large, and she still hadn’t decided how to complete her assignment in the next two days without making things harder for James and the Desert Valley PD. Maybe the fluff piece would buy her more time with her editor. She had to do a bang-up job on the bigger story. It was her chance—maybe her only chance—to show her editor she was ready for the big time.

  She headed for the back of the hall, intending to leave without attracting attention, when Dennis Marlton stopped her.

  “No one out this door, ma’am.” He smiled, but there was little warmth in it.

  “Is there something going on?”

  “No.”

  “Would you tell me if there was?”

  “No.” His smile was wolfish, and for a moment she did feel a bit like a little girl in a red cape who had wandered off the path.

  “But there isn’t anything going on,” Marlton said. “I’m happy to escort you to your car if you’d like.”

  “No need. I’ll go out the front, okay?”

  He nodded. “Thank you, ma’am. Have a nice evening.”

  She headed to the entrance, stopping for a few moments to peruse the silent auction table, which held everything from baskets of homemade jams to sets of embroidered table linens, helping a woman who stumbled as she passed the loaded table. Madison fished out her keys from her purse, scanning the hall one more time as she did so. Chatting couples dotted the room, their heads pressed close in intimate conversation. One older cop whose name she didn’t know reached out to caress his wife’s cheek, and the gesture brought unexpected tears to Madison’s eyes.

  At one time, very long ago, had her father loved her mother like that, before their lives had spun out of control? Their marriage must have been flush with promise, full of bright expectations, shiny and untarnished like a new penny. How could married people trust that love would last and endure and thrive as the years went by and youth fled away? How did they continue to trust each other as things went wrong and promises faded?

  The trust had to come from higher up, she realized. When things seemed wrecked and ruined, the enduring love was rooted in something much bigger that two people.

  “I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”

  That was the secret of marriage, she thought with a start. Two people trusting each other because they trusted their Father in Heaven first. The thought released a dam in her heart, and a warm stream flowed through a place that had felt like a wasteland for a very long time. Maybe she was on her way to that new place where her father’s betrayal was left with God, buried in that past where it belonged.

  Deep in thought, Madison reached out a hand to push open the front doors. As she did so, she noticed that Dennis Marlton was no longer standing sentry in the back. Odd. Where had he gone?

  She stepped outside, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. There was a moon, but it
was playing hide-and-seek with a bank of clouds. Strains of music floated out of the hall. She gripped her keys, intending to scoot into her car without delay, until she heard the low murmur of voices coming from the edge of the parking lot where crowded trees hemmed in the asphalt. Probably just a couple discussing the evening’s events before they, too, left early. There was a slight creaking that sounded familiar, and she thought she caught the outline of a figure wearing a hat.

  She put her key in the lock.

  One startling phrase drifted across the parking lot.

  “...another murder.”

  Madison’s heart slammed into her ribs. She’d misheard. Or maybe it was the cops discussing the case.

  “You’re taking too many wild chances. Get out of town while you can.”

  The tone was menacing, hard. Her pulse began to race. She would get into her car and call James. Heart dropping, she realized she’d left her phone inside near the auction table when she assisted the lady who’d tripped. Dumb, Mads. Real dumb. She tried to ease the key in slowly, but the key ring slipped from her fingers and felt to the pavement with a clink. The talking stopped.

  She frantically patted the asphalt, searching for her keys, which must have bounced under the car.

  “Who is that?” one of the men snapped to the other. Her blood turned to ice. One of the men was Falkner.

  She did not pick up on the response, only the sound of running feet.

  Nineteen

  The choices raced through Madison’s mind as her nerves went rigid. Run back inside the hall. It was a much better idea to get where people were than to keep searching for her keys in a deserted parking lot. But with the keys she could hit the panic button, which would surely dissuade whoever was following her. She reached one more time under the car, but when she heard a man’s heavy tread she withdrew her hand, ducking down as small as possible.