The Accidental Sheriff (5 page)

“Damn it to hell,” R.J. complained when his cowboy hat collided with the sun visor, shoving the brim down over his eyes. He pushed it back up and blinked. “Slow down, for Pete’s sake. We’re not in a race.”

Neil let up on the gas only when they reached the top of the next small hill. At the bottom a pair of pickup trucks and three ATVs were parked, reminding him that the reason for their wilderness adventure was business, not pleasure.

He pulled up alongside the closest truck and cut the engine. Two men—one young, one older, neither of whom he recognized—were removing kerosene lanterns from a crate in the bed of the truck and lighting them. Good thing. The sun was quickly disappearing beneath the distant mountaintops, and
any minute now they would be swallowed by darkness and surrounded by cold.

Across the gully, seven more people had gathered together on a slope that looked no different than the half-dozen others in the immediate area—except for the crude, gaping hole in the side, four feet high by three feet wide. Neil was no authority, but even he realized the hole was not a product of Mother Nature.

He and R.J. exited the Jeep. Opening the rear compartment, they grabbed their jackets, a pair of flashlights, a toolbox and a roll of yellow crime-scene tape before parting ways. Neil joined the two men lighting lanterns while R.J. battled trees and a dense thicket to reach the group of people standing in front of the hole. Most of them had their backs to Neil. Even so, he recognized Jake Tucker’s unmistakable stance.

“Evening.” Neil addressed the men beside the truck.

The older of the two glanced at the badge on Neil’s shirt and extended his hand. “Howdy, Sheriff. I’m Gary Forester, and this is Little José. He’s the fellow who found the shaft.”

Neil reached inside his jacket and removed a notebook. “Can you tell me more about that?”

“I was riding the trail, looking for areas that needed clearing.”

“Where’s your horse now?” Neil scribbled as Little José talked.

“We trailered him back to the ranch so I didn’t have to ride in the dark.”

“How did you happen to notice the mine shaft?” Out of the corner of his eye, Neil observed R.J. attempting to remove the people from the slope and the crime scene. He was being met with some resistance, from Jake in particular. “I
didn’t
notice it,” Little José said. “Not at first. What I found was this.” He lifted one of the lanterns, illuminating
the truck’s lowered tailgate where a long, cylindrical piece of iron lay. “It was right there in the middle of the trail.”

Neil fished a handkerchief from his back pocket. “Who else besides you has touched this?” he asked.

“Just Gary.”

Careful not to smudge any possible fingerprints and incur the wrath of the CSI team, Neil used the handkerchief to lift the object. His hand dipped slightly at the unexpected weight.

“It’s a chisel,” Little José informed him.

“And finding this prompted you to go looking for a mine shaft?” Neil set the chisel back down on the truck’s tailgate.

“Not the chisel so much as the footprints and tire tracks.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.” Little José indicated the ground near them and up the slope.

Neil took in all the people and vehicles and groaned inwardly. Any trace of those footprints and tire tracks was probably eradicated by now. Why hadn’t Jake called Neil first before storming out here and bringing three-fourths of his family with him.

The three-fourths, he promptly realized with another glance at the slope, that included Carolina.

His scribbling momentarily faltered.

“This is private property,” Gary interjected. “No one comes up here who doesn’t work for the ranch.”

“What about neighboring ranchers?”

“They have no reason. And the fences are diligently maintained. We can’t afford to have our guests coming in contact with stray cattle.”

“You rent out ATVs, right? Could any of the guests have come up here?”

Concentrating required all Neil’s effort. Carolina’s pale yellow jeans and green trench coat made her hard to ignore.

“These trails are too dangerous and off-limits,” Gary said.

“Not everyone obeys the rules.”

“I suppose.” Gary adjusted the knob on one of the lanterns. The flame caught, then glowed brightly. Up at the mine shaft, flashlight beams zigzagged over the ground and on the rock walls.

“So, after you found the chisel and noticed the footprints and tire tracks, you went searching for the mine shaft?”

“I didn’t know what I was looking for at first,” Little José explained, “only that someone had been here. I followed the tracks up the hill. Once I got close enough, I could see the hole hidden behind a pile of brush. They didn’t do a very good job camouflaging it.”

“Or they were in a hurry because you surprised them,” Neil suggested. “What did you do after you found the shaft?”

“I radioed the ranch. Reported my location and what I’d found.”

“I drove straight out here as soon as he told me,” Gary said. “Then I called Mr. Tucker. He told me to contact you.”

R.J. had done his job. He’d rounded up the family and was bringing them down the hill.

Jake stopped briefly at a white truck then made straight for Neil. “Sheriff Lovitt.”

“Mr. Tucker. Do you have any idea who might have done this?”

“None at all.” He didn’t hide his anger well. “But whoever they were, they had access to some fairly sophisticated equipment.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Marks on the rocks. They might be using hand tools now,
but the shaft was originally excavated with a high-powered drill. The experts will be able to tell us more.”

“Experts?”

“I’ve contacted the Arizona Geological Society. Asked them to send out a crew.”

“Call them back.” Neil wrote furiously in his notebook. “Tell them to wait until someone from CSI contacts them and gives them the go-ahead to proceed. In fact, no one is to go within a mile of this mine shaft without permission. Is that clear?”

Jake nodded curtly, not liking being put off but complying. “I wonder how much gold they’ve found so far, if any.” The question seemed to be directed at himself rather than Neil.

“Maybe the crew from the Geological Society can tell you once they’ve examined the mine.” Neil wrote down a reminder to have someone research places in the state that purchased or processed unrefined ore.

Jake raked his fingers through his hair, his expression showing shock and disbelief.

Neil had seen the same look on countless victims during his career. “Did you have any idea there was gold on your property?”

“No.”

“Yes.” Carolina stepped forward, hugging her arms to ward off the increasing chill.

Even if Neil wanted to, he couldn’t ignore her any longer. Whenever she got within visual range of him, everyone and everything else disappeared. It had been that way from their first encounter.

“Those are just local legends.” Jake sounded irritable.

She lifted her chin. “I disagree.”

Neil almost smiled. Was there no one who intimidated her? He was instantly reminded of their conversation in the hospital cafeteria, and his fledgling trust in her increased a tiny
fraction. He could see her having no reservations whatsoever about defying her boss. And since nothing had surfaced about him or his late wife on the radio, in the newspapers or around town, it appeared she’d kept her promise.

For now anyway.

“What legends?” he asked.

“These mountains were heavily prospected about the time of the Civil War and until the late 1880s,” she explained. “Nobody ever struck it rich, but enough gold was found to generate rumors of a mother lode. It’s not unreasonable,” she added when Jake heaved a tired sigh. “Remember that strike they found outside of Payson twenty…twenty-two years ago?”

“Not really. I was away at college.”

She huffed. “Well, I do.”

“How much gold did they find?” Neil asked.

“Quite a bit. In the tens, if not hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

In today’s market, that amount could easily be doubled.

“Have you had the area tested?” Neil asked Jake.

He shook his head. “Gold fever had long since died by the time our grandparents bought the land and built the ranch. Not that our grandfather believed the rumors.”

“But Grandma Ida did,” Carolina said.

“That’s true.” The young woman interrupting them looked too much like Carolina to be anyone other than her sister. “She took us once to the Rim County Museum when we were kids. They had this old treasure map on display. A family in town had donated it after finding it among their deceased father’s belongings. Grandma showed us where the ranch was on the map and laughed, saying she should get Grandpa to dig for gold.”

Neil’s glance traveled up the slope to the mine shaft, nearly
obscure now in the dark. “I’d say someone else believed the legends, too.”

“Or they have the map,” Carolina said.

He turned to face her. “Is it still on display at the museum?”

“I have no clue, I haven’t visited in years.”

Neil underlined the words
map
and
museum
in his notebook.

“You can’t seriously believe there’s a connection,” Jake said.

“People are illegally mining for gold on your property, Mr. Tucker.” Neil felt compelled to point out the obvious. “No one would undertake such an operation without being reasonably confident it’s going to pay off.”

His observation was followed by a round of silence. He used the lull to finish up his notes.

“Hey, Jake,” Carolina’s sister said, her voice bright with excitement. “We could be rich. Did you ever think about that?”

While the Tucker and Sweetwater family members mulled over the ramifications of what a potential gold strike might mean to them, Neil went with R.J. to inspect the mine shaft, a process that required a good half hour. When they were done, he radioed the station. The evening dispatcher took down the information he gave her, assuring him she’d contact CSI the moment she hung up. As there was no evidence of a homicide, he didn’t expect the investigators to make an appearance until morning, when they had sufficient light to see. In the interim, Neil and R.J. would secure the crime scene to the best of their ability.

“You willing to stay overnight?” Neil asked R.J. “I don’t want to take a chance whoever did this comes back.” Neil would have volunteered, but Carmen had midterms this week and couldn’t babysit Zoey past ten o’clock.

R.J. shrugged. He was a home boy, born and raised in the Payson area. “Won’t be the first time I’ve spent the night in the mountains on the lookout for bad guys.”

Neil was grateful the young deputy didn’t appear to hold any grudges. He’d been with the department longer than Neil and might have resented not being appointed acting sheriff. The same couldn’t be said for all the deputies, and their not-so-subdued grumbling had reached Neil’s ears.

He would have to address the problem eventually before it
escalated. Perhaps Sheriff Herberger might have some advice for him. Neil wasn’t egotistical or career hungry and had no qualms about asking for help when he needed it.

“I’ll send Willie to break you around dawn,” he told R.J.

“Be sure he brings a thermos of coffee.”

“He doesn’t drink it.”

“But I do.” R.J. grinned.

“You want a doughnut with that?”

“Doughnuts are for city cops. Out here, we have burritos with our coffee. Ernesto’s opens early. He can stop there.”

“I hope you’re carrying a roll of antacids.”

“Sissy.”

One by one, the family members left, none of them willingly. Neil understood. If his property had been violated, he’d want to stay and protect it, too.

He was shutting the back of the Jeep when his personal cell phone abruptly rang. Unhooking it from his belt, he flipped open the phone and verified the caller ID. His heart rate increased when “unknown” flashed on the small screen. Only very few people had this number—Zoey, her babysitter Carmen, the elementary school, his parents and his late wife’s parents.

Had Carmen changed carriers again? He put the phone to his ear. “Sheriff Lovitt.”

There was no answer. Only the dull, crackling sound of an open line.

“Hello, Sheriff Lovitt,” he repeated, then more firmly, “Who’s there?” He was immediately reminded of the threatening phone call from the other day.

A series of beeps sounded, and the line went dead.

He snapped the phone shut. Quickly changing his mind, he dialed his house.

“Everything’s fine,” Carmen told him when he’d asked about Zoey. “She’s watching TV. You want to talk to her?”

“In a minute. Has anyone called the house tonight?”

“Yeah, right before you. Like thirty seconds. I thought when the phone rang again it was them calling back.”

“Who was it?”

“They hung up.”

“What did the caller ID say?”

“Unavailable. I know I’m not supposed to answer when that happens but I forgot.”

“Just be more careful next time.” Neil’s free hand closed into a fist. Two blocked calls within a minute, one to his private cell and one to his home. He didn’t believe it was a coincidence and decided to have Mary Twohorses check his phone records in the morning. “I’ll be home in an hour. If they call again, ask for their name and get in touch with me right away.”

“Sure.” Carmen’s tone reflected the nervous anxiety he’d no doubt instilled in her with his brusque questions. “Here’s Zoey.”

“What’s up, kiddo?”

“Daddy, when are you coming home?”

“Not till after you’re asleep, I’m afraid.”

“Again?”

“Sorry.” Zoey’s disappointment was no greater than his. Reading her a bedtime story was a ritual they both looked forward to every night. Unfortunately, Zoey would have to get used to him not being there. For a while, at least. Until Sheriff Herberger returned to work. “But I’ll come in and kiss you good night.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

She went on to tell him all about the Disney DVD Carmen had brought with her, and for a moment, Neil’s world was perfectly right, devoid of unknown callers, dissension among
his deputies and fear that his daughter would learn the truth about her mother’s death and blame him.

Carolina came over shortly after he’d disconnected, giving him reason to suspect she’d been waiting for him to finish. The cool evening breeze had left her hair in an attractive disarray that he found very appealing. Then again, was there anything about her that didn’t appeal to him? She attempted to brush a wayward strand from her eyes, only to have it fall back into place.

He was instantly and unwillingly charmed.

“Hi,” she said.

He could sense her trepidation and resisted reassuring her with a friendly comeback. For one, he was on duty, investigating a crime. For another, she was a distraction he could and
should
avoid. Lastly, he still wasn’t comfortable with where he stood with her. If the story about his wife broke locally, his career could be in danger. But Neil cared far more about Zoey and the potential emotional impact on her.

On
them.

If she wound up hating him… He refused to consider the possibility.

“Good evening, Ms. Sweetwater.”

“Oh, we’re back to that.”

“Can I help you with something?”

The lanterns had been extinguished in preparation of everyone leaving. Only a three-quarter moon remained to illuminate the site. Shadows played across her face, adding a hint of mystery to a woman who already mystified him on many levels.

“I was thinking…” Her voice trailed off.

“Yes.”

“I’d be happy to take you to the museum and show you the map. If they still have it, that is. If not, I might be able
to locate the original owners. I’m sure my mother and uncle remember them.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the offer. But I’ll have to decline.”

“You aren’t going to check it out?” She drew back in surprise.

“Yes. But we have procedures. One of my deputies or an officer from the Payson Police Department will likely be following up on leads. Not me.”

“The Payson Police?”

“Local agencies work together when crimes cross jurisdictions.”

“I see.” She wavered.

He wondered why she didn’t leave. “Do you have something else on your mind?”

“The stories about prospecting in these parts are really interesting.” A hint of annoyance infected her voice. “Despite what Jake says, they may have a bearing on our illegal mining problem. We could meet, and I could tell you the stories in detail. At, um, the station, of course. Not for a meal or anything. Unless you wanted to eat,” she ended in a rush.

Neil paused. “Are you asking me out, Ms. Sweetwater?”

She evidently found her courage and answered strongly and confidently, “Yes, I am.”

For a brief second, he contemplated saying yes. The idea of going on a date with Carolina, just the two of them, was appealing. But he couldn’t accept for many reasons, most of which wouldn’t make sense to her.

“I’m honored. Really, I am.”

“That sounds like a no.” She swallowed, the only visible sign that his rejection had hurt her.

“Sorry.”

A horn beeped. “Be right there,” she hollered over her
shoulder. To Neil, she said, “Is it because of my job? I told you, I refused the assignment.”

“Carolina…”

“I like it better when you use my first name.”

She smiled, and his resolve weakened, not that it was ever strong where she was concerned.

“The problem is your job, but also mine.”

“Yours? How so?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

He was tempted. Good judgment, however, prevailed. “It won’t make any difference.”

“How do you know?” She stepped forward. No more than a matter of inches, yet it was enough to change their positions—or was it the atmosphere?—from casual to intimate. “Look, there’s something between us, don’t bother denying it.”

He didn’t. They’d both have to be blind or naive not to notice the sparks that went off like tiny rockets every time they were together. “Trust me, you’re better off with someone else.” He started toward the door of the Jeep.

The horn beeped again. Carolina’s sister was growing impatient.

“Wait, Neil.” She spun around and cupped her hands to her mouth. “Go on without me. Sheriff Lovitt is taking me home.”

“Carolina.” This time, his voice was stern.

“You have to drive right past my cabin to leave the ranch. Well, practically.” She didn’t wait for him to answer and dashed around the Jeep to the passenger side.

Neil opened his door. She was already in and buckling her seat belt. The one remaining vehicle with her sister had left and was bumping up the nearby slope. If he didn’t take Carolina home, R.J. would have to when Willie relieved him.

Recognizing defeat when it stared him in the face, Neil climbed in behind the steering wheel, hoping he wasn’t making a huge mistake.

“T
AKE THE LEFT FORK
,” Carolina said.

Neil shot her a sidelong glance. “That’s not the way we came.” Neither, he was sure, was it the way the other vehicles had gone.

“I know a shortcut. The trail’s a little rough, though. If you’re worried—”

“I’m not.” He downshifted.

“I didn’t think so.”

He couldn’t see her face in the Jeep’s dark interior, but he felt relatively certain she was smiling.

“Careful, the next slope drops off sharply.” She tightened her hold on the grab bar and gave an excited “Whee” when they exploded down the other side.

Great. One more thing to like about Carolina Sweetwater. His deputy R.J. could take a few lessons from her when it came to the art of off-road driving.

The noise, the bouncing and the level of concentration required to steer the Jeep hindered any meaningful conversation until they reached the outskirts of a maintenance yard and the main dirt road that led through the ranch. They continued driving, guided by lights peeking out from between the trees, evidence that many of the guests were still awake in their cabins.

“How much farther?” he asked.

“About a quarter mile. Keep going.”

Hiking and ATV trails veered off in various directions. Carved wooden signs tacked to trees proclaimed the various trail names. Cute names, like Bear Tracks and Fox Cub and Juniper Berry. One name stood out.

“Did I read that right? Carolina May?”

She nodded. “Grandpa Walter named a trail for each of us grandkids.”

A stone monument stood at the base of the next trail. They were going too fast for Neil to read the entire rectangular brass sign.

“Hailey…?”

“Hailey Beatrice Trail. For my cousin, Jake’s sister. She died in a horse riding accident almost four years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. She was a great person. We all really miss her. Jake especially. They were close, and he took her death pretty hard.”

Neil sometimes forgot that he wasn’t the only person to ever suffer the loss of a loved one.

“There.” Carolina pointed ahead. “Go right.”

If not for her, he would have missed the turnoff. The lack of lights, denser foliage and narrowing of the road indicated this part of the ranch was less traveled.

“We’re here.”

Neil slowed the Jeep and parked.

The one-story structure, set slightly back from the road, had the appearance of a home rather than a guest cabin. Flowers lined the stone walkway leading to a porch complete with a swing on one end and a pair of wicker rockers on the other. A white picket fence straight out of
Little House on the Prairie
surrounded the property, and a rooster weather vane sat atop the peaked roof. Along the side of the yard was what appeared to be a vegetable garden.

At first, the quaint country charm of the place seemed in contrast to Carolina’s sophistication. But on closer inspection, Neil decided she fit right in. He could easily picture her planting tomatoes in the garden or curled up on the porch swing, a book in one hand and a glass of lemonade in the other.

It was also the kind of place where he could picture himself,
sitting next to her on the swing, her bare feet in his lap, the two of them lolling away a lazy Saturday afternoon.

An unexpected noise penetrated Neil’s thoughts. “Is that a dog barking?”

“My sister’s French bulldog. Actually, it’s her husband’s. The dog came with him as part of the deal. I’m babysitting while they’re on their honeymoon.”

“Should you let her out?”

“Give her a second. I had a doggie door installed, and she’s still getting used to it.”

Carolina had no sooner spoken than a compact black bullet traveling close to the ground came tearing out from behind the house. The dog stopped at the gate and proceeded to raise the alarm, letting everyone within hearing distance know an intruder had invaded the premises.

Carolina rolled down her window. “Quiet, Belle, it’s me.”

The dog immediately went from barking to scratching at the gate before plunking her behind down to wait.

“Is she okay there?”

“The gate’s latched, she can’t get out. Besides, she enjoys being outside. Give her a minute, and she’ll find a hole to dig or a cricket to chase.”

On cue, Belle trotted off, her nose glued to the ground.

“Zoey wants a dog.” Neil had no idea why he said that.

“They’re a lot of responsibility. I haven’t had one since I left home for college, and I’d forgotten how much work’s involved.”

“But you like the dog.” He could tell from her voice.

“Yeah, I do. If I weren’t so busy, I’d get one of my own.”

“I try that same argument about being too busy on Zoey, but she doesn’t understand.”

“Kids are tough to fool.”

“She also wants a horse.”

“I did, too, at her age.”