Chapter 5
At day’s end,Walker limped down the mountain with the sheriff, feeling dusty, sweaty, andgrim.
“I can keep the details quiet because I don’t have any,” Walker said grumpily. “There’s no newspaper up here, but gossip flies faster than dust in the wind. They’llknow more than I do bymorning.”
“Coroner is the only one who can give a report,” the sheriff said with a shrug. “All the rest is speculation. We’ll need to run through our missing personsfiles.”
Walker had heard the coroner saywhite, male, age late 30s, early 40s. He knew the file that fit already. He just needed date of death to confirm it. “I’m going back up after supper. TheLucys will be back, rooting around. There could be more graves upthere.”
“Can’t pay you overtime,” the sheriff warned. “You’re on your own. It’s not likely there are any more bodies unless you have gang wars you’re not telling meabout.”
“As far as I’m aware, they nail each other with insults here, nothammers.”
“How about shovels? Pickaxes?” the sheriff inquired. “You gota war of barn tools going on?” The cadaver’s head had been split from behind, quite possibly with a barntool.
If he was a man who wept, he’d do so now, but the man Walker feared was up there had taught him not to show weakness. He kept his stoicism. “No barn tool wars that I know, but I’ve only been here since December. Winter isquiet.”
“Doesn’t look like this is recent anyway.We’ll let you know more, when we know it,” the sheriff promised, climbing into his car. “The coroner’s office gets backed up every time he goes fishing, so I can’t saywhen.”
Walker tipped a finger to his forehead, acknowledging the delay. He hated it, but then, he hated the dirty task he’d assigned himself. He had needed time to recuperate, then get his head straight, and the deputy jobin this county he’d been meaning to investigate had conveniently opened. Maybe once he adjusted to the loneliness, he’d be able to go home, pick up thepieces...
He wasn’t ready. Davey’s toys still littered the garage. His little bed... Walker’s insides ground as if he’d swallowedglass.
With jaw clenched against the pain, he continued to the lodge in the dying sunlight, hopingto snag a sandwich so he could go back up the mountain without delay. Reaching the parking lot near the lodge’s restaurant door, he watched Kurt’s fancy red Mercedes maneuver into a reserved space. Walker waited for the manager to get out so he could hail him, but bit his tongue when a pair of shapely legs followed the opening door on the passenger side. Kurt usually didn’t bring women uphere.
Walker frowned as Cass’s guest emerged, standing tall in heels with straps that emphasized her slender ankles and curvaceous calves. She wore a flouncy skirt that hit right below her knee and a top that proved she had cleavageandunderwear.
The fool female got around—from looney Lucys in the morning to wealthy Nulls in the evening. What in hell was up withthat?
In his usualbrusque manner, Kurt led the way up the red carpet where an employee hurried to open the door forhim.
Feeling like a dirty grub, Walker decided maybe he would go to the kitchen door to beg food. He didn’t know why it rubbed him the wrong way that Miss Samantha Moon was already on the hook of one of the richest men in town. He ought to wish her well. He barely even knewher.
Buthe’d seen the shadows in those big blue eyes and knew the female hid secrets. The fact that a body had been uncovered the minute she entered town—was toocoincidental.
Yeah, if he was back in the city, he wouldn’t think anything of it. But out here—weird happened. The Lucys would pick up on it soon enough, if they hadn’talready.
Walker sighed in exasperation as he turned the cornerfor the kitchen door and saw the lean figure propped against the timber façade, presumably doing nothing more than whittling at an oak branch. Harvey never claimed to be one of the Lucys, but he always showed up at inopportune times, in places where he shouldn’tbe.
Dressed in black t-shirt, tight black jeans, and black boots, with his thick black hair worn in a leather tie at his nape,Harvey was more carrion crow than Goth, biker, or hippy. He lifted his carving knife in greeting as Walkerapproached.
“Found what you were looking for?” Harveyasked.
That was one of the weird things about this town. Walker had never told anyone what he was looking for or that he was even looking. He scowled in reply. “No one goes looking for skeletons. You got any idea who itis?”
Harvey shrugged. “No one I know,” he replied, as if he’d identified the remains and they belonged to a stranger. “Town has its secrets though. Daisy is the one who walks between time. She’s your best bet forinformation.”
Where in hell did he begin questioning that line of thinking? “I need facts, not fantasy,” Walker said wearily. “Let me know when you havesome.”
“Factsaren’t my specialty, old boy,” Harvey said with a faint grin. “I’m just a facilitator.” He pried his broad shoulders off the logs and ambled back down thedrive.
Walker had some inkling of why a nearly twenty-year old missing persons case had never beensolved.
It wasdifficult to enjoy the delicious dinner while her companion askedquestions she couldn’t answer, instead of providing the information he’d promised. Sam smiled and sipped her wine, feeling her head spin slightly. Apparently, she wasn’t accustomed toalcohol.
“Environmental science, yes,” she told him. She’d learned that much in her search of her boxes this afternoon. Samantha Moon had a newly minted masters in environmental science from Brigham YoungUniversity. Did that mean she was Mormon? If she didn’t drink or consume drugs, how did she end up like this? She could remember nothing about her university life. Maybe she was running from an enormous studentdebt.
Kurt cut his steak, speaking as if by rote and not from interest. It was a pity. He was a good-looking, apparently intelligent man. “What does one do with a degree in environmentalscience?”
