BIG SKY SECRETS 03: End Game Read online

  “Lane.”

  “First or last?” She teased.

  He ignored her question. “So…what are you doing the rest of the night? Want to check out The Drover on the other side of Copper Cliff? Better live band, and they serve good steaks.”

  He was big. A good two-forty, maybe five foot-eleven, with a potential for being aggressive, if his grip was any clue. She’d taken down bigger men than him in the past, but the thought of a wrestling match outside wasn’t pleasant…and it would sure blow her cover for the future if she had to cuff him in front of any cowboys out there.

  “Can’t. Sorry.” She gave him an apologetic smile. “I’ve got someone stopping in a little later.”

  His gaze hardened. “Who?”

  She’d mentioned a burly boyfriend when she’d first walked in, then she’d referred to her fiancé. The latter seemed like the better choice now. This guy would probably want to stick around and challenge another rough, tough dude, and maybe go toe to toe. “My fiancé…once his…um…baseball game is over. Maybe.”

  “I haven’t met him, but I know you could do better. Way better.”

  She tilted her head. “Do you come here often?”

  “Now and then.”

  There was something about the man that made goose bumps rise on her arms, and it wasn’t because he was attractive. “Then maybe I’ll see you around here again, sometime.”

  She started to rise, but he tightened his grip, twisting his wrist so she half fell back into the booth. “You don’t need to leave. I think we should talk awhile.”

  “There are a lot of people here, mister. Maybe you’d better let go.”

  The place was packed, but no one was looking in their direction. Beyond the booth, a faint incandescent bulb flickered over an exit sign at the end of a short, dark hallway.

  Was this man her quarry?

  Could he have hustled an intimidated woman out the rear door without being noticed? Had he flirted with Dee Kirby long enough to entice her into slipping out the back door with him?

  Lane’s mouth curved into a seductive smile. “I want to get to know you better.”

  The shadow of a tall, broad-shouldered man, silhouetted by the distant, faint glow of the neon beer signs over the bar, fell across the table, startling her.

  “Let’s go, sugar,” the stranger said at her shoulder, in a deep voice that was oddly familiar. “You’ve had enough fun for tonight.”

  “She ain’t going anywhere. She’s with me.”

  “Actually, she isn’t.” The stranger’s voice went even lower, his tone laced with lethal promise. “And if you don’t want trouble, you’ll let go of the lady’s wrist and just sit back, nice and easy, while we leave.”

  Lane glared up at him. “You have no idea who you’re talking to.”

  “And neither do you. You want to lose your pride in front of all these good folks, that’s okay by me. Your choice.”

  After a long hesitation, Lane made a sound of disgust and dropped her wrist. “She’s not worth the bother, cowboy. For you or me.”

  “Go ahead and believe it. It’s in your best interest.” The stranger touched her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  She didn’t want to go, not yet. But now she’d placed the voice, and knew he might blow her cover if she balked. Some of the other cowboys had turned to look their way, so she played it cool. “Sure. Whatever.”

  He gently caught her hand and led her through the crowd, stopping only when they got to the front door. She glanced at the cowboys who were a little too close for comfort, then pulled her hand free and stepped outside.

  He followed her to the shadowed side of the building and leaned a shoulder against the wall, as if he was just any cowboy flirting on a Saturday night. “Well, then.” His mouth tipped into a lazy smile. “Howdy, ma’am.”

  She scanned the area for anyone within earshot of their conversation, but there was no one in sight. “Don’t ‘howdy’ me, Anders. You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “You looked like you were in a little trouble back there, and I figured you could use some help.” His gaze drifted up to her hair, and his mouth twitched. “Nice hairdo.”

  “You know what I do. You could’ve guessed I was working,” she hissed. “What are you doing here?”

  Her words echoed back to her, setting off alarm bells in her head. What was he doing here this late at night—here, of all places? Her stomach tightened at the possibilities—most of which weren’t good.

  “Rescuing a damsel in distress?”

  “You ought to know it wasn’t necessary.”

  “Right. That guy was inviting you to a tea party.” His voice hardened. “So where is your backup?”

  “As close as my cell phone.”

  “Not good enough. No matter how tough you think you are, that guy was twice your size and twice as strong. Factor in the testosterone and adrenaline rush fueling him, and—”

  “A male deputy would’ve been in just as much trouble, if there was a fight. Don’t start with the gender bias stuff. Please.”

  Scott held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry. My mistake.”

  “Do you come here often?”

  “First time.”

  “Really. Sort of far, isn’t it? You’ve got to live over an hour away, maybe more, given these mountain roads.”

  He shrugged. “Passing through.”

  Late on Saturday night? “From where to where?”

  “What—is it illegal to be here?” He shook his head in disgust. “Come out and check my truck. I’ve got a receipt for the portable generator I picked up this evening in Billings. My dog is in the front seat, waiting for this.”

  He held up his other hand, and she realized that until now he’d held his hand at his side, and she hadn’t noticed the small brown paper bag he was carrying. “W-what’s that?”

  “Two cheeseburgers and fries—half for Jasper, half for me. That’s the extent of the bar menu here. It was advertised as ‘Good Eats’ on a highway sign a mile north, and that sounded like gourmet fare to me, since I didn’t stop for supper back in Billings.”

  A pure, warm sense of relief washed through her. “You stopped here for supper.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “O-of course not.” She reached up to adjust her hair and caught another flicker of amusement in his eyes. “What?”

  “Great outfit.”

  “But you knew me, even in that bad lighting,” she said in disgust. “I wonder if anyone else did.”

  “I doubt it, but it would take more than a wig and caterpillars on your eyelids for me to miss someone like you,” he said with a faint, enigmatic smile. “I’d recognize your profile and your attitude anywhere.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I kept an eye on things once I saw you because you seemed to be stirring up an awful lot of masculine interest over the ‘floozy’ in their midst. But don’t worry—if anyone had recognized you as a deputy, the word would’ve spread fast.”

  “Because of the smoking violations and some underage drinkers in there, I suppose. And I can only imagine what else.” She sighed. “Not exactly what I was after, but I’ll make sure Ewan follows up. It’s his territory.”

  She suddenly knew that Scott had been the man she’d sensed watching her back there, not the unknown killer she’d hoped was marking his next prey. If the insurance guy and the surly rancher didn’t pan out, then the night had been a failure. Well, it had been a long shot, anyway.

  “Since the boys inside must assume that I’m the mysterious fiancé I heard about, I don’t suppose it’ll look strange if I walk you to your truck.” He cracked a smile and tipped his head toward the unlit perimeter of the lot, where she’d parked. “Do you mind?”

  “I don’t need protection.” She started for her truck and he fell in step with her.

  “Never thought you did. I just figured it would be better to get you out of there before you blew your cover, and had that jerk belly down on the floor with his h
ands cuffed behind his back.”

  “Now there’s a pleasing thought.” She knew he was just honoring her pride, though he’d truly thought she needed help. If it had been Hal, Ewan or any of the other guys, she would have been offended. But from Scott the interference felt different, and now a small, warm ember started to burn deep in her heart.

  And with it, a measure of guilt.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “For jumping to conclusions, back there.” She bit her lower lip. “For questioning you about why you were here.”

  He shrugged. “It’s your job to cover all the bases. Sometimes the most serious offenders can appear to be as innocent as lambs.”

  “But I should know better. You have no priors of any kind. And I know what you do—or did, in your career before coming here.”

  “When you make a career of investigating people, it’s hard to put the doubts and suspicion aside.” Something akin to pain flickered in his eyes, gone almost too quickly for her to catch. “Sometimes it’s safer not to.”

  A couple of cowboys ambled out of the tavern and headed for opposite ends of the parking lot. These two, at least, looked as if they were steady on their feet.

  Scott glanced down at what she held at her side. “Souvenir?”

  “Sort of.” She lifted a shoulder. “Since it’s been such a lovely night, and all.”

  With luck, she’d be able to lift Lane’s prints off his beer bottle and find some sort of record on him in the national AFIS registry. The knowing look in Scott’s eyes told her he knew exactly what she planned to do.

  He walked with her, casually making conversation until she was in her pickup, the doors locked and the driver’s side window rolled down. “Take care, you hear? Stay out of trouble.”

  “My job is taking care of trouble, Anders. Not avoiding it.”

  “No insult intended. Just…take care.”

  “I appreciate your concern, and I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. But please understand that I don’t need help, and I don’t need someone to watch over me. I’ve done my job for years now, as well as any man in the department—and better than some.”

  He lingered briefly, as if he wanted to say more, and in that silent, breathless moment she had a sudden image of him leaning closer. Meeting him partway…

  But then his mouth broke into another faint smile. “As you wish, ma’am. Sorry I got in the way. I’ll make sure I don’t make the same mistake again.” He sauntered away and disappeared into the night.

  She rolled up her window and stared after him, then focused on the tavern, where lights pulsed at the windows and the muffled music seemed to shake the roof. This bar wasn’t the only possibility. There were other places like this, that some of the victims had frequented before their deaths. Even so, their propensity for seeking out the wild side on Saturday nights might not have had any connection at all to the killer.

  He could be a convenience store clerk.

  A ski bum, hanging around the area for the winter.

  A teacher or cowhand or anyone else.

  He could be someone she knew well…and there were just twenty days left until the next full moon.

  She had an entire county to cover. A county filled with some of the most rugged terrain in this hemisphere, where there were endless places to hide. God, help me find this guy. And please, help me do it before another innocent woman dies.

  SIX

  Megan pulled into her long, curving driveway at two in the morning, feeling as if she’d downed an overload of caffeine. Her thoughts raced back through the evening, over and over.

  Had she missed anything at the Halfway House Tavern?

  Skimmed past the killer’s face without any sense of the evil that lurked behind a casual smile or offhand glance?

  All the way home, she’d checked her rearview mirror hoping to see the twin pinpricks of light signifying that someone was following her. A couple times, she’d thought she saw exactly that—but then the lights turned off onto some side road and disappeared.

  She had to be the only woman on the planet who was disappointed that she hadn’t picked up a stalker.

  Turning off the ignition, she speed-dialed Ewan and told him she’d come up dry, though he’d need to start monitoring that tavern far more closely for bar license violations and the potential for drunk drivers.

  She stepped out of her truck and surveyed the chain-link fenced yard for any motion, anything out of place. Tall pine trees crowded close to the rustic, single-story cabin, filtering the moonlight and casting dark shadows despite the single security light over the garage out in back.

  The air was still, hushed, as if holding its breath and waiting for something to happen. The silence and eerie isolation of the place pressed in on her as she let herself through the gate and walked to the front door. She unlocked it, then reached inside the door to flip on the porch and interior lights and stood in the open doorway to survey the great room.

  Everything was as it had been when she left.

  The bright red-and-blue patchwork quilts were still draped over the backs of the sofa and loveseat arranged in front of the stone fireplace. The comfy pair of overstuffed chairs were still in place in the opposite corner, facing the television she rarely had time to watch. And her beloved, original paintings of the Tetons still hung on the walls, done by a local artist she adored.

  She breathed a sigh of relief, laughing off her momentary doubts. And then she froze.

  Behind her, she heard the distant low growl of a motor.

  The fading crunch of tires on gravel.

  She spun around and stared into the darkness, then raced outside back to her truck.

  Even on the darkest cloudy nights, the glow of headlights passing on the highway were masked by the curves of the quarter-mile driveway snaking through the dense pine forest. Only the loudest of the timber company trucks hauling massive logs could be heard at her cabin.

  Yet she’d heard this vehicle, plain as day.

  Whoever was out there hadn’t just been passing on the highway. He’d been closer. In her driveway. Yet hadn’t come on up to the cabin, as an acquaintance would do.

  It had sounded as though the vehicle was leaving…though the driver could be parking it out of sight, planning to come back on foot. Unless he’d discovered everything he needed to know by just following her and seeing her name and rural address on the mailbox.

  Swiftly climbing behind the wheel, she drove toward the highway with her headlights off, using just the moonlight as her guide, slowing to check every possible turnoff along the way.

  When she reached the highway, she edged forward slowly, watching for any movement.

  Nothing.

  Frustrated, she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and stared at the empty road. If that vehicle belonged to her suspect and he thought she was easy prey, he’d have a big surprise. Anticipation and determination made her muscles tense, heightening her senses and awareness of the vast, empty forest surrounding her. Made her long for that confrontation; for the final resolution of the case.

  Still, the thought of a watchful night ahead, when an intruder could so easily slip up to her cabin, unseen in the darkness, set her nerves on edge.

  She waited another ten minutes, then drove slowly back home. Pulling to a stop near the front door, she glanced at her patrol car parked nearby, still emblazoned with K-9 unit on the side. Now, she missed her dog more than ever. She’d been blessed with the county’s only drug dog for over four years, until Charger was shot during a meth lab bust six months ago that had left Charger with a bullet in the chest.

  He’d been her constant companion, her partner. Her best friend. Until now, the thought of replacing him had made her heart clench…though the county had no money to purchase a new dog, at any rate.

  But any dog would offer the comfort of sharp ears and a loud bark. Why hadn’t she moved past her sorrow and found one sooner?

  At the door of the cabin, she
stood in the entryway as the minutes ticked by, straining to hear any sound of someone approaching. Only the faint cry of an owl broke the silence.

  Now, a fitful breeze picked up, rushing through the pines and rustling the leaves of the aspens into a host of delicate castanets behind the house.

  Chilled, she finally let herself inside and shoved the dead bolt home. She walked through the main floor, closing curtains and locking windows in the two small bedrooms and great room, then she double-checked the back door and windows in the kitchen. Securely locked, as always.

  “Nothing to worry about,” she told herself, speaking aloud into the silence. “Nothing at all.”

  Maybe that car had simply belonged to someone who had taken a wrong turn, stopped in her drive to double-check a map or GPS, then backed out and left.

  But how often did even a single car pass by on these isolated roads at night? And the timing, right after her undercover search at the tavern, was too coincidental to ignore.

  She wouldn’t bet her life on that car belonging to someone who was lost.

  Heading for her main floor bedroom, she reached up in the closet and pulled her service revolver from its locked case. Loaded it. Then she gave her ankle holster a pat for reassurance before settling on the sofa with a pillow and blanket, the exterior lights all blazing at both the front and back doors.

  It was time to visit her childhood friend Kris down in Battle Creek. Maybe even after church later this morning…

  Before she had too much time to think about all the reasons why it would be a very bad idea.

  “I can’t believe it!” Kris Donaldson rushed forward and gave Megan a hug, then held her at arm’s length and frowned, her lovely, honey-brown eyes filling with concern. “You look exhausted. What’s up?”

  “Late night.” A sleepless one, listening for footsteps outside, but sharing that bit of news would lead to too many questions. “You look fantastic.”

  “I couldn’t be happier.” She waved a hand toward the newly finished cabin behind her, and the long kennel building and barns at the other end of the meadow. “I got to move into the new cabin just this past week. And best of all, I just heard from the County Board of Supervisors. They’re pleased with how the animal shelter has been operating here, and said they’re already planning to extend my contract for another three years.”