She shut the door behind her sister-in-law as Samson came to press against her leg. “That leaves me without help, boy. Now what?”
Samson’s soft brown eyes seemed to say he’d do all he could.
CHAPTER 4
Spirit leaped onto the backseat of Boone’s big truck and settled onto the seat. Boone slid under the wheel and drummed his fingers against it. Until today, he would have said no stares on earth could unsettle him. Why had he acted like such a jerk with Dana? Now that he’d cooled off, he could admit to himself that her behavior had been courteous and professional. She was a 911 call dispatcher and had likely seen and heard it all. She’d almost acted like a doctor or nurse with the clinical questions.
Something about her had gotten under his skin. Maybe it was the fear and vulnerability in those big blue eyes. Chris had told him about the ex-fiancé and his threats. Boone had promised to keep an eye on Dana and make sure she was all right, but if he turned into a porcupine every time he was around her, it would be a difficult assignment. She seemed nice enough, but he’d been taken in by beauties like her before. Never again.
He glanced at the time. Six in the evening in Washington wasn’t the greatest time to be calling Morgan again, but Boone had already tried twice, and the detective hadn’t returned his calls. He pulled out his cell phone and called the familiar number.
Detective Morgan answered on the first ring. His voice always reminded Boone of molasses: smooth and southern. Harry Morgan sounded like a transplant from Alabama.
“Detective, it’s Boone Carter.”
“I was just about to call you. I’ve been out all day and just got back to my office. I assume you’re calling for an update on your sister, but I’m sorry to say we have no new leads.”
Boone slid down in the seat and a picture of Renee on the tree swing behind their house slammed into his head. She’d been four to his eight, and she shrieked, “Higher, Boone, higher,” with every pump of her short tanned legs. Had she cried out for him at the end? He’d always been the one she turned to when she needed a hundred dollars for the rent or a shoulder to cry on after the last dirtbag had dumped her.
Moisture flooded his eyes, and he blinked it back. “I wondered if you caught wind of the Faith Rogerson murder.”
“Hmm, can’t say as I have.” The detective’s drawl grew more syrupy, a sure sign of interest.
“She was killed the night before she was to be married, just like Renee.” Boone laid out everything Allyson uncovered. “It sounds like it could be the same killer.”
“Where was this?”
“Portland, Oregon.”
“I’ll check into it.”
“One more thing. Have you had any contact with Tyler Dixon lately?”
“No, sir. We cleared him, remember?”
“And he hasn’t called to check on the investigation?”
“Nope.”
“I tried to call his cell phone, but it was disconnected.”
“No crime in that. He might have moved and gotten a new one.”
Boone couldn’t argue that. “What if the killer got to him too?”
Spirit must have sensed his mood because he pressed his head into the crook of Boone’s neck and huffed warm breath against his skin. He rubbed the dog’s nose, and Spirit finally retreated to the backseat and lay down.
“I will say it’s a little odd Dixon hasn’t checked in. I was just looking at my notes, and the last time I spoke with him was eighteen months ago. Usually people call on occasion to check the status. You call every couple of weeks.”
His tone was mild as though Boone’s frequent calls hadn’t been the nuisance Boone had expected. “Is there a way to check on his status?”
“I could call his employer. I think there’s a number in my records.”
“Could you let me know what you find out?”
Detective Morgan didn’t answer for a moment. He cleared his throat. “What is it you’re suggesting, Mr. Carter? I think it’s more than your fear for Dixon’s safety.”
“I’m still not convinced he didn’t kill Renee.”
“He had an ironclad alibi. Three people placed him at the bachelor party until he left to go check on why your sister wasn’t answering her phone.”
“I’ve heard all that, but the party was being held five miles down the road. What if he slipped out for a few minutes, killed her, then went back to the party? The thing turned into a drunken binge as they watched the football game. It wouldn’t be hard for exact times to be a little iffy for the men who were there.”
Morgan heaved a sigh. “Listen to yourself, Mr. Carter. What you’re saying doesn’t really make sense. Renee put up quite the struggle. Water was sloshed all over the ground around the watering tank. Whoever did this would have been soaked and chilled to the bone. I know the lack of progress in the case is frustrating, but we want to find the killer, not just book a suspect.”
A wind gust rattled the truck, and Boone leaned his forehead against the cold window glass. His warm breath puffed white in the November chill. He wanted to reject the thought that the sheriff might be right, but the truth was he missed his sister with an ache that only grew sharper with each passing day.
He’d hoped finding justice for Renee would be a balm on his pain, but it looked like that might never happen. It had been three years, and an arrest wasn’t any closer than the night he’d gotten the call. No DNA match to the skin under her fingernails, no clues, and no real leads.
If only he’d been there for the wedding.
He lifted his head and started the engine. “Thanks for your honesty, Detective. Please let me know what you hear about Dixon. I’ll try to keep my suspicions in line.”
Dana loved her room on the second floor with its gray-green walls and fresh white linens. Even though the attached bathroom had an aging marble tile shower and floor, it had a timeless elegance. On his last trip home, Chris must have bought the fluffy towels and expensive toiletries to welcome her.
She had barely unpacked her suitcases when the doorbell rang. Her stomach rumbled as she hurried downstairs to answer the door, and she glanced at her watch. A little after six.
She doubted Boone had returned, but she hoped she’d get the chance to apologize to him. His parting words kept ringing in her head, but he wouldn’t want her compassion. He struck her as the type who wasn’t afraid to take on a battalion by himself, much like Garret. That type of he-man was best avoided.
She spotted two figures through the glass and opened the door with a fresh surge of excitement at the sight of her friends. Hoods up over their heads to combat the wind, Bree and Allyson stood on the porch. Bree’s nose was pink, and Allyson shivered a little as the wind howled with joy to chase leaves along the yard.
Bree held up the Crock-Pot in her hands. “I thought we’d share some chili with you for dinner tonight.” Phantom pushed past Dana and leaped on Bree’s leg. She petted him a moment, then made him get down. “Sorry, I didn’t bring Samson, Phantom.”
“I was just feeling lonely.” Dana stepped out of the way to allow them in. She spied the pie in Allyson’s hand. “That wouldn’t be your mom’s peanut butter pie, would it?”
“She made it just for you and guarded it with her life from Dad.” Allyson paused on the rug as Dana shut the door and kicked off her boots. “Which way is the kitchen?”
“I’ll show you. How’d you both get away for the evening? No kids, not even Samson.”
Bree kicked off her boots too and followed Dana. “Kade decided to take them all to see the new Disney movie and told me to get a pedicure or something. This sounded a lot more fun since I haven’t seen you in ages. Samson cut his paw in training this afternoon so I left him on the bed resting.” She stopped in the kitchen doorway. “Wow, this is gorgeous. I love the gray cabinets. Is that a marble countertop?”
“Yes.” Dana took the slow cooker from Bree and set it on the large island, then removed some bowls from the cabinet. “I’m not sure if there are a
ny crackers.”
Allyson held up a plastic bag. “We came prepared.”
Dana’s mouth watered at the rich aroma of tomatoes and onion as she ladled up the soup. The women carried their steaming bowls to the seating area at the island. She grabbed her purse and took out her sea salt tin in case she needed it.
Dana perched on a stool beside Allyson. “I bet Chris has never even eaten in here. He’s probably thrown something in the microwave, then eaten it in front of the TV in the living room.” She tasted the chili and nearly moaned as the chilies and tomato sauce hit her tongue. “This is so good. I’ve only had fast food for the past three days. Anyone want something to drink? Chris asked your cousin, Boone Carter, to bring over some things.” She snapped her fingers and made Phantom lay down at her feet.
Allyson had been smiling, but at the mention of Boone’s name, she went somber. “Poor guy has been through so much.”
Dana clamped her mouth shut. She wasn’t about to join the rumor mill Boone had mentioned. She took a big spoonful of chili to mask her silence.
Bree crushed crackers into her chili. “His sister’s death really hit him hard.”
Dana choked on her mouthful. “He didn’t mention his sister. Car accident?”
“No.” Allyson’s voice softened. “He’s my cousin so she’s talking about Renee.”
“Your cousin who was drowned the night before her wedding?” Dana’s fears came surging back. Maybe it was all in her head, but she wanted reassurance that Garret couldn’t possibly be a killer. “I–I thought of Garret when you mentioned the drowning.”
Bree put down her spoon. “You want to talk about it?”
Dana’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded. She hadn’t told anyone about this except the police. “It all started so innocently. I fixed a pot roast for dinner, and I had no idea he didn’t like roast. He’d never said.”
“Stop it.” Allyson reached across the table to grab her arm. “Stop blaming yourself right now. Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault for fixing something he didn’t like.”
Dana’s throat spasmed. “You’re right. I know you’re right.” She took a deep, calming breath. “His mouth got all tight and pinched when he entered the kitchen and saw the food on the table. I could tell something was wrong, but I never dreamed he’d get so upset.”
She didn’t want to relive the terror of that moment, but it washed over her, tightening her chest and constricting her breath. She was gasping by the time she finished telling them about Garret submerging her head in the sink’s water.
Bree and Allyson both looked shaken. “You’re lucky he didn’t kill you,” Bree said.
“Seeing you again last month was my opportunity to get away from him. You were a life saver.”
Allyson’s eyes narrowed. “You said he’d been gone for two weeks. Does he travel a lot? Ever go to Washington or Oregon?”
Dana nodded. “He’s a Glock salesman and is gone all the time, usually two to four weeks at a time. Seattle and several cities in Oregon are his usual stops.”
Allyson reached for the notebook in her purse. “I’d like to hear more about Garret.”
CHAPTER 5
He couldn’t get Allyson’s theory out of his head. Boone rubbed his scar and stared at the flames flickering in the stone fireplace. The kitchen still held the aroma of his microwaved lasagna. Spirit eyed him mournfully from his rug by the kitchen door. He’d danced around begging for a walk until Boone gave him an emphatic no.
He looked up at a knock at the front door. Who was out in this fifty-mile-an-hour wind? He went to the door and opened it. Allyson stood on the step huddled in her peacoat.
“You look frozen.” He let her in and shut the door behind her. A whisper of her car’s pine air freshener followed in her wake.
“I need to talk to you.” Shivering, she walked toward the fireplace and held out her hands toward the warmth.
He took her coat and grabbed a throw from the back of the sofa for her.
She pulled the armchair closer to the fire and snuggled under the throw. “Thanks.”
“Want some coffee or hot tea?”
“Not just yet. Maybe in a little while.” She stared into the fire with a pensive expression. “Bree and I talked to Dana tonight. She said you brought over some food.”
“Yeah, that was the errand I left to do when you were here earlier. I’d promised Chris.” And he could just imagine the conversation they had. He touched the ridges on his cheek. Dana had likely grilled Allyson about his scar.
“She mentioned something that made me go digging. That ex-boyfriend of hers, Garret Waterman, plunged her head underwater in the kitchen sink once. Scared her to death.”
He went rigid as a horrific mental image flashed. “He sounds like a real winner.”
“Faith Rogerson was drowned in her kitchen sink.”
“Yeah, in Portland. Waterman lives in Washington. At least I assume so since that’s where Dana lived. What’s your point?”
She tightened her grip on the blanket at her neck and stared at him. “Garret is a salesman. He travels all the time selling Glocks. Portland is in his territory. He goes there every few weeks.”
He frowned. “You’re saying you think Waterman might have been calling himself Justin Leyland and masquerading as a pharmaceutical rep? That’s a stretch, even for you, Allyson.”
Color rushed to her cheeks. “Just hear me out, okay? Waterman was in Portland when Faith died. It’s part of his territory. What if he travels around and woos women in different areas under an assumed name?”
Couldn’t she see the obvious problem with her theory? “Wouldn’t the groom worry his picture would get out and his real identity would be exposed?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. You hear about bigamists all the time. Maybe our guy is that type with a woman in every port. He couldn’t run the risk of using his real name.”
“I don’t buy it. For one thing, would the killer say he was a pharmaceutical rep if he really wasn’t one? You’d think he’d have to know something about the job.”
“Both fiancés had claimed to be in the same profession. What are the chances of that? And of their future brides being murdered the same way? I think there’s some kind of connection, and I’m going to prove it.”
The determination on her face sent a shock of alarm down his spine. “This Waterman guy sounds dangerous, Allyson. Don’t poke a stick at a rattlesnake.”
Throw still clutched around her, she rose and stalked back and forth in front of the fire. “Detective Morgan isn’t getting anywhere, is he?”
“Nope. I called him today and told him about the Rogerson murder though. He hadn’t sniffed it out yet, but he was going to check on it.”
“Check on it,” she scoffed. “That’s all he ever does is check on it. How about getting off his duff and finding Renee’s killer?”
“You think I don’t know that? Look, I’m as frustrated as you are, but we need clues, real facts, to get anywhere. This killer is smart. We can’t manufacture evidence out of thin air.”
“I’m going to find the evidence.” She tossed the throw onto the chair and went to the closet where she jerked her coat from a hanger and shrugged into it.
He followed her. “Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want Waterman to make you a target of his anger when there’s likely no connection at all.”
Tears hung on her lashes, and she kept yanking on the door before she paused long enough to unlock it. “I can’t stand by and do nothing.”
Grasping her shoulders, he pulled her around to face him. “I haven’t been doing nothing. I asked the detective to find out what’s going on with Dixon. Morgan seemed intrigued when he realized Dixon hadn’t called in quite a while. He’ll let me know in a couple of days. And he’s checking to see if there’s any connection to the Rogerson murder.”
She leaned her forehead against his chest. “Ignore me. I’m just tired tonight. And I’m running out of savings and wil
l have to go back to work soon. I was sure I’d be able to track down Renee’s killer myself, and I’m worried this psycho will strike again.”
If it was the same guy. He hugged her before she pulled away. “I’ll call you when I hear from Detective Morgan.”
She nodded and slipped out into the howling wind. He stood in the doorway and watched her slide into her red car. The taillights blinked twice, then disappeared in the blowing leaves and dust.
Spirit pushed his head against Boone’s knee, and he rubbed the dog’s head. His own determination about not finding Renee’s killer was just as deep as his cousin’s.
Garret drove the old pickup slowly through the streets. He curled his lip at the sight of the picturesque town. If he didn’t know better, he’d guess he’d entered a time warp and been transported back to the fifties. The storefronts had clearly been built in the 1800s, and most were painted multiple colors.
Snow clung to the trees’ branches and contrasted with the brightly colored leaves still clinging to them. Pedestrians hurried to their destinations under glowering skies that threatened more snow. A few flakes already drifted in the glare of the streetlamps.
He kept a look out for Dana, but there was no sign of her. Where else would she go? The minute she’d left Washington, he knew she’d run back to Chris for help.
An empty parallel parking spot was ahead, right in front of a neon Open sign in the Copper Club Tavern’s window. He was parched and hungry, and this place would do.
The bar was nearly empty when he went inside, and Garret’s mouth watered at the yeasty smell of the beer on tap. The bartender glanced up as Garret slung himself into a corner table. He sat and watched out the window at the town. It would be hard to escape notice here. What did Dana see in this place? Sure, she was born here, but what a little backwater. They could be sitting along the wharf and watching whales right now instead of gearing up for a snowstorm.
Women. There was no understanding them.
A young woman stopped at his table. With her raven hair, dark-brown eyes, and pale skin, she was quite the looker. She wore a short black skirt and knee-high boots. Her red top didn’t leave much to the imagination.