BIG SKY SECRETS 03: End Game (2 page)

He reached over and gave Jasper a rub behind the ears. “You are
so
spoiled. Wait here, then. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

Locking the door behind him, he strode over to Hannah’s Pastries ’n’ More and stepped inside. The place was done up in a profusion of red and white—frilly curtains and such meant to attract summer tourists. Even so, there were a couple of grizzled ranchers sitting at one of the tables, and a few more cowboys were at the far end of the long soda fountain, cradling mugs of the best coffee in town.

A woman sat alone on the swivel stool closest to the cash register, deep in conversation with Sue Ann, the day shift waitress. Her long auburn hair was caught up in a ponytail pulled through the back of a baseball cap, and from her faded denim jacket and jeans, he placed her as a daughter or wife of a local rancher.

A very pretty one, from what he could see from a brief glimpse of her face as she flicked a glance at him. He’d never seen her before, and he found himself wondering what color her eyes were, or if there was a ring on her hand.

An unfamiliar stirring somewhere in the region of his heart made him quickly rein in those foolish thoughts. The last thing he needed was any sort of personal complications, now or ever.

He settled at one of the empty spots halfway between her and the cowboys, and focused on the laminated, one-page menu tucked behind the napkin holder in front of him, though he already knew it by heart.

Sue Ann drifted down his way a minute later with a coffeepot in her hand. “Black, with Jasper’s dog cookies to go?”

Even without turning toward her, he sensed the amusement of the woman sitting near the cash register. “Make the coffee to go, too.”

“And here I thought I might interest you in some of the blackberry pie you like. You want a slice in a takeout container?” She winked at him, a hand propped on her hip. “Just think about that wonderful, flaky crust, and all of those sweet, sweet berries.”

Scott nodded, then had second thoughts. “Maybe I’d better just stay here. Last time, we…had a little trouble with takeout.”

Sue Ann laughed aloud. “Tell me your buddy didn’t eat that pie.”

“Down to the last blackberry.”

Still grinning, she pulled a mug from the shelf beneath the counter, poured his coffee, then bustled back to the kitchen.

The other woman laughed as she turned to study him. “Trouble, eh?”

He angled a glance at her, then wished he hadn’t.

Beneath the bill of her cap he could see flawless, creamy skin, touched by a faint blush of rose over her high cheekbones. Delicately arched brows. Sparkling green eyes that turned his heart upside down…until he caught her direct, frankly assessing gaze, and the way she’d positioned herself to keep her back to the wall.

The hair at the back of his neck prickled.

Pretty green eyes or not, he knew without asking, exactly what she was…or had been. And the painful lessons were with him still.

He shook off his thoughts and gave her a neutral smile. “My dog Jasper loves the homemade dog cookies, but he loves pie even more. Last month, I got distracted by elk on the road. He managed to paw open the foam container and wolf down an entire slice before I could pull over and stop.”

“I’ll bet he was sorry later.”

Her grin seemed to light up her face, transforming it from pretty to captivating, and he found himself smiling back at her. “The digestive complications weren’t exactly pretty, but given a chance, I know he’d do it again.”

“Sounds like my old dog.”

He savored a slow sip of his coffee, nodding his thanks to the waitress when she slid an ample slice of pie and a paper bag of dog cookies in front of him.

She cocked her head as she searched his face. “I haven’t seen you around town before. Visitor?”

“I moved here three or four months ago.” At her up raised eyebrow, he added, “Up in the hills, above town.”

Instant awareness dawned in her eyes. “You must’ve bought the Swansons’ place. I remember hearing it sold last winter. Is your name…” She thought for a moment. “Anderson?”

“Anders. Scott Anders.” He accepted her brief, firm handshake.

“Megan Peters.” She cast a dismissive glance at her casual clothes. “County deputy, but you wouldn’t guess it now. This is a rare day off.”

Oh, I knew it, sweetheart. Cop or ex-military, before you even opened your mouth.

“So, how do you like it here?” She smiled, though he saw more than just casual curiosity lurking in her eyes.

“Fine.”

“What sort of work do you do?”

“I’m taking a few months off.” He turned back to his pie for a final bite and pushed the half-eaten piece away. Settling his Stetson in place, he rose, dropped a ten on the counter and headed for the door. “See you around.”

He could feel her studying him as he walked out.

She probably thought he was rude, but it didn’t matter.

He kept to himself and planned to stay that way.

And even if the contrast of her appearance and her profession was an all too interesting mix, Deputy Megan Peters was the last person in Copper Cliff he’d want to know any better.

“Interesting,” Megan muttered under her breath as she watched Scott leave. “Was there a fire, or was it just me?”

Sue Ann moved down the counter to clear away his plate and coffee mug. “Neither, I’d guess. Actually, that’s the most I’ve ever heard him say.”

“How can he not have a job? Property around here doesn’t come cheap.”

The waitress shrugged. “He’s only been in town a couple times that I know of, and he doesn’t talk much. Maybe he’s just another one of those rich dudes buying up property in the area.” She flashed a quick smile at Megan. “He’s a real good-looking guy, though…so I did ask around. No one else seems to know anything about him, either.”

“He doesn’t dress like some rich wannabe cowboy. Is he single?”

“Far as I know—unless he keeps the missus at home when he comes in for supplies.”

If Sue Ann didn’t have the information, probably no one did. Hannah’s Pastries was the hub for all the news and gossip in the area. “Where’s he from?”

Sue Ann shrugged. “No idea. I get the feeling he doesn’t like a lot of questions…though he does seem like a nice enough guy. He sure loves that dog of his.”

“What about the Swansons—are they still around?”

“I heard they rarely came up here anymore, so they finally decided to sell out and just spend more time at their beach house. They sold their property through an Internet listing, so they never met the buyer.”

“I still can’t believe I haven’t run into him until now.”

“No surprise, really, because he rarely comes to town.”

Which seemed even more suspicious, the more Megan thought about it.

What sort of young guy moved up here and turned into a hermit, without visible means of support? Or got edgy and split the moment he found out he was talking to a deputy? He hadn’t seemed particularly antisocial until then, so what was he hiding?

That flash of wariness in his eyes certainly hadn’t been her imagination.

Megan’s cell phone vibrated at her hip, and she reached for it. Hal’s private number appeared on the screen. She headed for the privacy of the back of the café and answered it.

“Hey, Megan.”

At the ragged note in his voice, her heart rate sped up. “What’s up?”

“We…just got a 911 call.” He drew in a slow breath. “Another body.”

“Where?”

“Some hikers found it, a few yards from a trail going up to Granite Peak. Female, early thirties.”

“You think it’s the same guy?”

“I’m at the scene right now.” He rapidly gave her directions. “And there’s something here that you’ll want to see.”

M
egan shivered, wishing she’d worn a heavier jacket. The lower elevations would be much warmer by now, but up here, heavy mounds of snow still covered the north-facing slopes and the shaded ground beneath dense stands of pine.

Though it probably wasn’t the chilly weather that was making her shake. Even after years in law enforcement, approaching a murder scene triggered flashbacks of the night her childhood friend Laura had been murdered.

She’d never told anyone in the department. She hid the wrenching memories so well behind her mask of cool professionalism on the job, that many of the locals thought it eerie, how she felt so little emotion in the face of death.

But none of those people had ever followed her home. None could see into her heart.

And now, seeing Hal’s haggard expression as he stood waiting for her on the trail ahead, that empty and aching place in her chest made it almost hard to breathe.

She stepped forward. The body, now covered by a plastic sheet, lay a few yards off the trail partially obscured by thick brush, the snowy surroundings as cool as a slab in a morgue.

“When the call came in, I took it myself.” Hal lifted his clipboard and scanned his notes. “The hikers were two high school kids who saw the body from the trail. They were nearly hysterical when they called 911. They say they didn’t approach the victim, so hopefully the scene wasn’t contaminated.”

“Was the body covered?”

“Only clothing, nothing else. And no attempt at burial, far as I can tell. That wouldn’t have worked anyway—the surface is muddy, but the ground beneath is still frozen.”

She nodded. “And the ground is awfully rocky—even in the summer, it would be tough. Maybe he figured there wouldn’t be any people up here this early in the season. It wouldn’t take long for scavengers to consume most of the evidence. Bears, coyotes, wolves—and in a few weeks, vegetation would hide the bones.”

“True. And that makes me think the killer is a local, who knows the area well.”

She crouched, pulled on a pair of vinyl gloves and slowly pulled back the edge of the tarp, dreading her inevitable, initial flash of shock and horror; hiding her emotions with perfect stillness. Anything less than pure professionalism was a sign of weakness she refused to show.

She murmured a silent prayer for the deceased as she surveyed the battered face, the deep, gaping laceration across the throat. The body was clothed only in a torn, designer label shirt that covered it from neck to midthigh, the gray flesh was streaked with mud and strewn with pine needles. Even so, she could see that the victim had once been a very attractive woman.

“Have you called the DCI?”

“They ought to be here any time now.”

Megan studied the body, thankful for a chance to check out the scene before the state crime investigation team showed up. “I’d guess she’s been dead at least forty-eight hours, though these cold nights make it harder to tell. Given the position of the lividity markings, I’d say the body was moved at least eight hours after the time of death.”

“Agreed.” Hal gestured toward a faint path winding through the trees. “There’s a rough fire road off in that direction, a good half mile away. Someone kicked debris over the trail, but you can still see some marks in the ground where the body was dragged over here.”

“Whoever did it had to be strong. I’m guessing a fairly big and burly guy.” She surveyed the rugged terrain. “Any footprints?”

“Nothing clear, but I didn’t want to disturb anything. This isn’t our usual act-of-passion or barroom brawl kind of death. Those aren’t hard to sort out. But this one…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head. “The DCI investigators will go over this area inch by inch, and hopefully between them and their mobile lab, we can make more progress on finding our killer.”

At that, she forced herself to rise and take a step back.

He sighed heavily. “I did lift her fingerprints, though. When I get back to the office I’ll start checking missing person’s reports. Her family’s probably worried sick about her, wondering where she is.”

“They’ve all been brunettes,” Megan whispered. “Attractive. All in the same general age range. Slender. Married, or at least engaged. And there’s an indentation on her ring finger.”

“Just the things I wanted you to see. The similarities are striking.” He pursed his lips. “The killer took her rings, just like he did with the other two. Yet none of those rings have turned up in any pawnshops so far…or on the major Internet auction sites. At least, far as we can tell.”

“He’s keeping trophies.”

“He could be dismantling the rings for the stones—less chance of them being traced. Or he could be waiting to move them until things cool down.”

Megan shook her head. “It’s not about the money. Did you take a look at the earrings this one was still wearing? They look like eighteen karat, and that sure isn’t a cheap knockoff watch on her wrist. The second victim still wore her diamond tennis bracelet.”

He stared down at the black plastic sheet. “True.”

“This has to be the same killer. The body positioning is identical. Faceup, fingers interlaced over the chest. Ankles crossed—as if it mattered that the body was tidy and modestly displayed after a brutal murder. None of these details have been leaked to the press. Once we have an ID on the body, we’ll need to track her activities over the past few months and see if that’s a match, too.”