Murder at Granite Falls Read online

From down below came a distant thud, and seconds later a ball of green sparkles burst high in the sky. The crowd along the ledge collectively sighed in awe as it faded into falling emerald teardrops.

  Carrie braced her palms on the rock behind her and leaned back to watch as a display of fireworks in dizzying colors began bursting across the sky. On and on, until every color of the rainbow glittered across the sky as part of the grand finale.

  “Wow,” she breathed. “That was gorgeous. The prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

  “I think so, too. Without a doubt.”

  She blinked, suddenly more aware of her surroundings.

  At some point during the fireworks she’d shivered in the cool mountain air and Logan had laughed, draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. And without a thought, she’d snuggled closer and rested her head against him.

  Now, she pulled away to look up at him and found him studying her in return, his eyes like molten silver in the moonlight and the dimples bracketing his mouth deepening, and she suddenly wondered if he’d been watching the fireworks at all.

  She’d certainly been distracted by the lovely warmth of him next to her and the jittery sensation of awareness that had been dancing in her heart, than she had been over the firework display in the valley.

  She glanced around and realized that the other people around them were gone, and just a few stragglers were heading up the path. “Where’s Penny?”

  “She left a few minutes ago because she figured the truck was blocking other vehicles. Don’t worry, though, I’ll take you home.”

  He rose smoothly to his feet and held out a hand to help her up. She ended up close—too close—and wavered between hoping for a kiss, and needing to step back into her own personal space.

  The air between them felt charged. Expectant. As if the earth was ready to shift in a new and exciting direction…and then he released her hand and the moment was over.

  “Um…thanks,” she murmured, suddenly feeling a little shy. “This was a great evening.”

  They walked back up the path to the parking area, where a few families were still bundling children into seat belts. One of the moms glanced at him, then did a double take, and Carrie steeled herself for trouble.

  But the woman just raised a hand in greeting. “Hey, Logan, good to see you. Say hi to Penny for me, okay?”

  “Thanks,” he called back. “I’ll do that.”

  At his pickup, he leaned in front of Carrie to unlock her door, then opened it for her and stood back, waiting for her to climb in.

  She hesitated, feeling renewed empathy for this kind and gentle man. “I was afraid there’d be a scene back there,” she murmured. “I was ready to go toe-to-toe with her.”

  He gave a low laugh. “Now you and Penny both, I guess. Thanks—but sometimes it’s just better to ignore those things.”

  “Maybe.”

  A faint smile touched his mouth. “I guess I just want the evidence to lead to the killer and the facts to be clear to everyone. End of story. I can’t possibly stop what everyone thinks in the meantime. And to paraphrase Shakespeare, if I protest too much, it just makes me seem all the more suspect.”

  Startled, she turned back to him. Shakespeare?

  He gently brushed a hand against her cheek. “I just hope this is all over soon, because I can only imagine how tough it is for you, not knowing what happened to Billy.”

  Penny was already in the downstairs office, getting ready for the first group of passengers on Monday morning, when Carrie tapped on the door and stepped inside. “Here’s Murphy,” Carrie said. “And I’m off to school. Tell Logan that I still do appreciate the loan.”

  “I will. He won’t be here today, though. He has errands in Billings, and might not get back until late. He said to tell you to keep Murphy tonight, unless you’re tired of his company and want to send him home with me.”

  “I’ll be happy to keep him. I hadn’t realized how quiet that apartment was until I had a dog for company.” Carrie reached down to stroke Murphy’s head. “My cat completely ignores me. Will you need me to work this afternoon?”

  “Absolutely, since Logan will be gone. We could actually use you to cover Tina’s float trips the middle of the week, if you could—afternoon and evening. And once Logan is cleared by his doctor, we’ll need you even more, if he goes off to rodeo again.” Penny looked up from her computer screen and leaned back in her chair, her voiced laced with worry. “I honestly don’t know what to wish for anymore. That he totally heals so he can go risk his life again, or that he doesn’t—at least until this season is over—so he has to stay here and be safe. But I guess it’s all in God’s hands.”

  After hearing about Logan’s rodeo career, Carrie had tried to carefully distance herself, while still maintaining a friendly business relationship. But the more time she spent with him and his sister, the more she found herself being drawn into their world. And the more she found herself hanging on every word where he was concerned, wanting to learn more about this complex, caring man who had managed to come through false accusations and even a trial, without being embittered toward the community that had so wrongly judged him. A man who had shown her nothing but kindness and concern.

  “Logan has never mentioned how he got hurt,” she ventured.

  Penny shook her head. “And he won’t, unless you badger him. He’s always been like that. Our dad tends to make quite a bit out of whatever ails him. Logan is just the opposite.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I’d normally just leave it to him. But he probably isn’t going to, and you should know since you work for us now.”

  Carrie looked up sharply. “Is it bad?”

  “Bad enough. Severe headaches. Lower back pain like no other. That’s why he’s our last resort as a raft guide, but you won’t ever hear him complain. He doesn’t talk much about his success, either. Two years ago he was the reserve national saddle bronc champion. Not that he was after the glory, but he has tremendous drive and determination, and every win helped our parents get back on their feet.” Penny’s voice hardened. “Last year, of course, he was out much of the season because of the trial. I still can’t believe he had to go through all of that based on such circumstantial evidence.”

  “After getting to know him, I can’t, either. And I wasn’t even here.”

  “This year he wanted a stellar year on the circuit. We could use the money. But he drew a rank bronc at his first rodeo. He made it to the eight-second buzzer, but got hung up in the saddle, and the pickup men didn’t get there in time. The horse doubled back and crashed into the chutes, then kicked him in the head and lower back while scrambling to its feet.”

  Carrie felt a sudden wave of nausea, knowing the tremendous power of a panicking horse. The terrible damage one could inflict.

  “He received a severe concussion, needless to say—and a hairline crack at the back of his skull. A few millimeters difference, and the docs say he would’ve been killed instantly. A couple of vertebrae were damaged. It’s why he only takes float trips when he has to and wears a back brace under his life jacket. You can bet that he’s taking Ibuprofen for a couple days after.”

  “And he wants to go back to rodeo?”

  “He’s sure that the longer he’s out, the more he’ll lose his skill and sense of timing, and after his legal expenses last year he wants to get back on solid financial ground. But the docs say another head injury—even minor—could result in permanent disabilities. The same with his back—it’s weaker now, and causes him a lot of pain. Even if he uses a brace, he could damage it further if he goes back to bronc riding.”

  “Then it’s crazy to take the risk.”

  “But try to talk him out of it,” Penny retorted. “I sure have.”

  Carrie nodded. “I dealt with Billy long enough to know it didn’t do much good. Only in his case, he never did do all that well and the entire venture kept us in the red, year after next. He was always sure the pot of gold
was right around the corner and wouldn’t quit. In his case, I think it was more of a Peter Pan syndrome.”

  “Not all cowboys are like that.”

  Carrie tried for a smile. “I know. For most, it’s a professional sport and they work as hard at it as any athlete. But Billy wanted the life of irresponsibility and being able to take off with his carefree buddies for months on end. And it wasn’t just that. Whenever he was off chasing his dreams, my heart would nearly stop whenever the phone rang. I was so afraid I’d hear that he’d been badly injured. Or killed. I could never go through that again.”

  Penny nodded. “I love rodeo. I used to be a barrel racer, before my parents lost the ranch, so I have nothing against the sport. But Logan pursues it because of his stubborn sense of responsibility, and apparently Billy pursued it so he wouldn’t have to grow up. Both of them would have been better off if they’d just stayed home.”

  FIFTEEN

  On Tuesday afternoon, Carrie showed up for work as usual at one o’clock. After glancing into the office, she spied Logan and Penny by the boathouse and waved.

  Logan watched her as she sauntered over. The cuffs of her bright red, open collared shirt were rolled back, and with her slim white jeans she looked as pretty and fresh as the bright poppies growing near the river’s edge, though the signs of strain still showed in her sad eyes. No wonder, with the murder of her ex-husband still unresolved.

  “Hey, guys. How is everything?”

  Penny glanced at Logan, then shook her head. “I guess you’ve got a day off. We had four groups cancel today…plus eight individual reservations. We have just one float that’s half-full, Logan will be guiding a group of fly fishermen from Ohio on Wednesday. We hope.”

  Carrie’s eyes widened. “Yesterday there was just one cancellation.”

  “Right—so I guess the first two weeks after the murder were slower, but now the word must be starting to spread. I suppose tourists stop at a gas station or gift shop or café on their way up here, hear the latest news in Granite Falls, and decide to pull out.” Penny scooped a mass of auburn curls away from her face. “We went through this last year, too, and business was slow all year. Obviously, any association with murder is a major turnoff, and I don’t blame them.”

  “I just don’t understand any of this,” Carrie said glumly, staring out at the river. “Why was Billy out here that Friday night, when I’d already made it clear that I wouldn’t give him any money? He was obviously intimidated by Logan, so why would he risk another encounter? And why would anyone kill him? He had his faults, but…”

  “Maybe the BCI investigators will turn up something,” Penny said. “I heard that they’ve questioned the people who saw us with Billy in town. And surely they’ve traced his footsteps back to wherever he came from before he arrived in town, right?”

  “I hope so. And what about any suspects? Surely there must be others besides us.”

  “If there were, we’d be the last ones privy to that news. Believe me.”

  “I still wonder about Dante. No matter what you say, owning guns, his military background and having significant mental issues make him suspicious in my book.”

  Penny nodded slowly. “Yet he’s never been in trouble around here, and there’d be the question of motive. When would he have ever had any interaction with Billy?”

  “Does he has PTSD? Would he try to defend his territory?”

  “PTSD, yes. Would he go into crazy defense mode? I don’t know.”

  “If it isn’t him, who else would do it?” Carrie’s voice trembled. “Who could be so motivated that they’d pull a trigger twice?”

  “Other than you and I?” Logan held back a bitter laugh, remembering how public opinion had surged against him last year. “We’re probably the key suspects to everyone around here. You, as the frightened ex-wife, and me with my supposed history of violence.”

  “People were still talking about Billy’s murder at church Sunday, but they weren’t blaming you. There was more concern about the fact that a killer is still on the loose. Who knows—he might still be in the area, looking for another victim.”

  He felt a flicker of surprise at that, and apparently she noticed because a smile touched the corners of her mouth.

  “The pastor even reminded everyone to avoid judgment as part of his sermon.” Carrie tipped her head and gave him a curious look. “You don’t attend church at all?”

  “Sometimes. Penny and I grew up in a church-going family. We had to be there rain or shine, or my dad needed a good reason why. But she goes now and I don’t…much.”

  “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

  He thought back over his life, sorting through the twists and turns, the unanswered prayers. The terrible injustice of Janie’s death and the loss of the perfect life they could have had together. His mother’s suffering while she battled cancer. The death of a rodeo buddy when a split-second difference could have made all the difference.

  Too many other events to count.

  “I guess I just fell away. A few years ago I got involved with Cowboys for Christ on the rodeo circuit, and it felt like I was coming home to what was real,” he admitted. “But then last year…”

  “A lot of people cling to their faith during hard times,” Carrie said gently. “They don’t walk away.”

  “I didn’t intend to. But emotions ran high around here. Just arriving at church set people off, and it was pretty clear that a lot of them felt uncomfortable having someone like me in their midst. Maybe God can forgive, but the good people of Granite Falls are better at making snap judgments and clinging to them no matter what the facts are.”

  “Maybe you think that. But that isn’t how it is—at least not now.”

  “Though the longer it takes for an arrest, the more time people have time to think.”

  “But as they get to know you better, they’ll see that you aren’t the kind of guy who could hurt anyone, Logan.”

  “Right.”

  She frowned at him. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to sit back and wait for answers.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “So what do you think about Dante?”

  “I’m going to find him—or at least try. I don’t think he did it, but he does have an uncanny awareness about what goes on in these mountains. He’s too wary to ever come forward with information. If the investigators questioned him I doubt he would’ve said a word to them. But maybe he saw or heard something that might help.”

  She nodded decisively. “I want to come, too.”

  “No. It’s rugged out there. I might end up having to stay out several nights, just trying to find him.”

  “What you’re really saying is that you don’t think I can keep up.”

  She had such a competitive gleam in her eyes that he had to choke back a laugh. “Well…”

  “If I fall behind, don’t worry about it. I can handle myself out here. But I have a lot at stake, too, and I need to be doing something. Please, let me come along.”

  By midafternoon they’d reached a crumbling cabin upriver where Dante often holed up for the winter. It was empty, its sagging door wide-open to any wildlife that might wander by, and there were cans of food on the bowed wooden shelves along one wall. A dirty, battered tin plate and utensils sat in a washtub on a counter that apparently sufficed as a kitchen. Through an open doorway into the back of the cabin, she could see a swaybacked bed piled with moth-eaten blankets.

  “This guy knows the woods,” Carrie said. “He’d never leave his door wide-open and food residue around to lure the bears. He must have left in a hurry.”

  Logan surveyed the interior of the cabin. “And maybe he didn’t plan to come back. I don’t see any weapons, his axe or a saw in here. Essential things for survival.” He nodded toward a row of empty pegs next to the door. “His heavy coats are gone, too.”

  “Maybe he did see something he shouldn’t have.”

  Carrie stepped outside and studied
the ground. Large, indistinct footsteps milled all around the campsite. Soft-edged tracks, maybe from worn-out sneakers or aged boots that were nearly worn through. But here and there she saw smaller tracks with crisp, sharp edges. Tracks in places she and Logan hadn’t crossed.

  “Take a look at this,” she called out. “I think someone else was here.”

  He hunkered down to take a look. “Looks like newer, hard-soled oxfords or loafers. Definitely not sneakers or the heavy lugs on hiking boots.”

  “I’d guess maybe the sheriff and his deputies were out here to find him. Either they nabbed him and took him in for questioning again, or he slipped out into the woods. He would’ve heard them coming through the brush, though. There’s not even a good path leading up here.”

  Logan looked at her with a wry smile of admiration. “I guess you have spent time in the mountains.”

  “A little. So where does Dante go when he isn’t here?”

  “There are abandoned cabins scattered here and there. There’s little left of most of them—maybe not even a roof. Some, probably only Dante knows about because they’re hidden so well.” He frowned. “And there are caves. Maybe a half-dozen along Wolf River, and more when you get higher up into the mountains. It will take days to reach even half of the ones I know about. I can get you back down to the raft office, first.”

  “We’ve got a good seven hours of daylight. We can separate and cover more ground, if you tell me where to start.”

  “I don’t like the thought of you being out here alone. It isn’t only Dante who might be out here.”

  She waved a hand dismissively, then lifted her cell phone from the clip at her waist and checked the screen. “Two bars. Do you have yours along? We can keep in contact this way.”

  “No. Let’s cover the river together. If we don’t find him, then we can hit the upper elevations first thing tomorrow.”

  “I teach in the morning.” Which was probably why he’d come up with the plan. “But I’m done at noon. If we use the GPS units I saw in the office, you could send me your coordinates, and I could catch up.”