Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 (20 page)

That doesn’t sound good. Did you get my
cookies?

Cookies?

Maybe they’ll be there next week. They’ll
still be good, I’m sure.

Grandma’s cookies were the best. But that
wasn’t what he wanted to talk about.
Have you heard from my
mom?

Oh, honey. No. I’m sorry. She hasn’t emailed
you?

Pat didn’t type anything. His eyes were
burning again. His cheek tickled and he swiped his face. He was
crying. Great. Now everyone was going to think he was a total baby.
He sniffed and wiped his sleeve across his face.

I’m sure she means to. You want me to call
her and tell her to email or call you?

Not if she didn’t even love him anymore.

Pat typed,
It’s fine.
Even though it
wasn’t.

His dad didn’t get it and neither did his
grandma. They didn’t even like his mom, so what did they care she
didn’t love them anymore? Pat was the one she left. She’d made a
show of being all sad she was going, but she just said that stuff
to make herself not feel so bad.

I love you, Pat. Don’t be sad, baby. I know
you miss your mom but your dad loves you and he’s there.

Pat typed,
K.

He won’t know you feel bad unless you tell
him. So you need to tell your dad how you feel, okay?

Okay.

But he wasn’t going to. Pat typed bye because
he didn’t want her to tell him any more stuff to do. His dad was
busy working and it was important. He didn’t need to know Pat was
sad or he’d think Pat didn’t like it here.

John scanned the headlines on the three day
old newspaper. Being out of touch with what was happening in the
outside world didn’t sit well with him. It was like being on
vacation with no news show to watch, picking up a newspaper just
for the sake of something to read and playing catch-up. Not a
sustainable long-term plan.

Sources at the White House will neither
confirm nor deny last night’s events were, in fact, an
assassination attempt on the President.

What?

The door swung open and Pat walked into the
sheriff’s office. John took one look at his face, set the newspaper
down and crooked his finger. Pat ambled over, his shoulders low. He
dropped his backpack on the floor and John pulled him onto his lap.
“What’s up, chuck?”

Pat’s lips twitched but it didn’t reach his
eyes. “Did you just call me up-chuck?”

“How are you doing? How was school?”

“School was fine.”

Dotty was typing, headphones on. There hadn’t
been any call-ins yet, even with his late night radio announcement.
Apparently no one was coming forward. Palmer was at his desk,
looking like he was working.

John looked at his son. It didn’t look like
things were fine. But sometimes a man didn’t need his father to
make a big deal about his feelings. At least, that was the way
John’s dad had raised him. They just went out back and threw a ball
until whatever was churning in John had worked itself out.

“Feel like going for a drive?”

Pat looked up, cautious. “Where to?”

“Well, Matthias did say you could come out to
the ranch and see him. I need to go over there. So…you wanna
come?”

“Awesome.” Pat grabbed his backpack and ran
for the apartment stairs. “I’m gonna take a whiz before we go.”

Palmer chuckled.

“Hold down the fort, yeah?”

The deputy smiled but it wasn’t happiness
there, it was something else.

“Dotty?”

The receptionist paused what she was doing
and looked over. “Sheriff?”

“I’m headed out. Radio me if you need
anything.”

“Sure thing.”

John stood and grabbed his jacket. It was
probably just being somewhere new. He was going to have to get used
to the people and the atmosphere and eventually it wouldn’t feel
weird.

Pat ran back down in shorts and a
t-shirt.

“You need a coat, don’t you?”

He looked at John like he doubted his sanity.
“It’s warm out.”

John motioned to his computer. “Not according
to the weather report.”

Dotty piped up. “The valley Sanctuary sits in
actually won’t be on the weather. It’s below the elevation of the
surrounding area so they don’t report it because no one lives here
anyway. If you want accurate temperatures, listen to Hal. The
mountains are almost at freezing, the snow on the tops is early.
This morning Hal said fifty-eight and sunny.”

“Well I’ll be.” John hung his jacket on the
back of his chair. “Maybe I should get me a thermometer.”

Dotty hissed. “Can’t. That would be
transporting chemicals.”

“How does Hal do it?”

She grinned. “Claims he can smell the
temperature.”

John chuckled. “Of course he can.”

Pat looked back and forth between him and
Dotty, so John shook his head at his son. “Ready?”

**

The ranch consisted of a two-story house, a
barn—which for some reason wasn’t red—and a big cabin all across
the field from the landing pad. Without helicopter rotors to blow
away the odor, the whole place smelled like cows. Bolton’s bright
red diesel truck sat under an awning growing like an eyesore out of
the side of the house.

Matthias emerged from the barn and strode to
the Jeep with a coil of rope over his shoulder. He was smiling
wide. John hesitated for a second. Why was everyone in this town so
friendly? It wasn’t natural.

“What’s up, little dude?” Matthias bent to
high-five Pat. “Wanna come see the horses?”

“Yeah!”

John put a hand on Pat’s arm. “Uh…” The horse
at Dan’s farm had been taller than him. To Pat they’d be huge.
Fully able to crush him.

Matthias had a knowing smile on his face.
“I’ll be with him at all times. Pat will be fine with the horses.
I’ll teach him how to be around them and be safe.”

Guess the secret was out. Apparently it was
too much to ask Dan not to notice John’s reaction to the huge beast
on Battle Night, or that Dan would keep the information to
himself.

Pat did look really excited. “I guess it’s
okay.” John glanced at Matthias. “Before you guys go, can I ask you
something personal?” When Matthias shrugged, John said, “Is
everything okay with Maria?”

A shadow crossed Matthias’s face, darkening
his eyes. “What’s your concern?”

So the guy wasn’t going to give anything up.
He was going to get John to spill what he knew first—which in
itself spoke of having to be careful when talking about the subject
of Maria. Maybe for years.

“I was just wondering if there’s anything
about her situation I should know. She seems like she might be
having a hard time.”

Pat had wandered off a few feet to pick rocks
from the dirt. Matthias frowned. “She had post-partum depression
pretty bad after the twins were born. I thought we were past
that.”

“And Tom?”

“Tom is…” Matthias shrugged. “He’s just Tom.
He does his job at the nursery, but he lives for Maria.”

“You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can
do?”

“Sure. I’ll tell Mama. She’ll probably call a
family meeting, which means you can expect to get an invite to
dinner pretty soon. And she won’t take no for an answer.” Matthias
grinned but it didn’t reach his eyes.

John glanced at Pat, who looked to be getting
bored of finding rocks. “One more thing.” He trotted to his Jeep,
got the file from the dash and pulled out the picture of the knife.
“Do you recognize this?”

Matthias studied it like it was one of those
magic-eye pictures. Put your nose to the picture and draw back
slowly to see the dinosaur. “Hunting knife.”

“You guys do that here?”

“It’s mostly taking a few older guys out over
the land, sometimes we set up targets and they’ll wager on
accuracy.”

“But it’s illegal to transport weapons into
town.”

Matthias shrugged. “Talk to Bolton about
that.”

“Any idea who this knife belongs to?”

“Can I help you?” Bolton marched across the
grassy dirt straight toward them. “Sheriff.” The way he said it,
the position wasn’t a good thing.

Bolton’s clothes weren’t cheap. But they were
clearly working attire, and not just what he wore to look like a
rancher. The guy was western through and through. John figured in
another life he’d have been just as comfortable wearing an
expensive suit sitting in an office—or wearing a bullet proof vest
and carrying a shotgun, kicking in the target’s front door.

“Farrera.” John flashed the picture. Pat had
perked up, looking a little awestruck at the sight of the big man.
It wasn’t like he was that much bigger than John.

“Recognize this knife?”

Bolton’s eyes narrowed. “Hunting knife.”

“Which is kind of funny when you think about
it.” Except not. “Since weapons can’t be transported into town and
there’s no contact with the outside world that isn’t monitored. So
not only did a murder take place because of this knife. It also
begs the question as to whether or not I’m now investigating a
possible breach of Sanctuary security as well.”

Two men strode out of the barn. One was Diego
and both were dressed in what seemed to be the uniform around
here—blue jeans and a western shirt with a cowboy hat and
boots.

Matthias backed up toward Pat. “We’re gonna
go see the horses.”

The three men crowded around John, so he
dipped his chin to Diego and the other guy and then looked at
Bolton. “Who in town has a knife like this?”

Bolton mashed his lips together. “It’s
actually mine. All the weapons in town are here on the ranch; three
knives, a shotgun and two rifles. No one else—so far as I know and
that’s pretty conclusive—has a weapon. When people come here to
hunt, weapons are loaned. That knife—” He motioned to the picture
with his index finger. “—was lost two months ago on a hunt.”

“Faux hunting?”

“I guess you could call it that, since they
weren’t going to kill anything.”

“They weren’t looking for deer?”

Diego flinched. “Deer?”

The guy beside him said, “Ain’t no deer in
this town. They can’t get over the mountains.”

John frowned. “I saw one last night.”

Diego crossed himself.

Bolton rocked back on his boot heels and
rolled his eyes. “The locals think seeing a deer is a sign. An omen
that you’re about to die right here in death valley.”

“Good thing I don’t put much stock in
omens.”

Bolton’s lips twitched. “Yeah, good
thing.”

“Did Betty Collins see the deer?” He couldn’t
keep the derision from his voice.

“A week ago.” The guy beside Diego looked
suddenly energized, his eyes wide. “That’s how long it takes.”

Then John had better hurry up and solve this
murder before he was offed too. He sighed. “Who went hunting with
the knife?”

“The mayor and his buddies.” Bolton worked
his jaw back and forth. “It was a two day hunt. They were to hike
the designated areas on the map we gave them, camp overnight and
return in three days. They lost points for not collecting what was
at each checkpoint and not coming back with everything they took,
even the trash. They were trying to beat Hal’s team’s score from
the week before.”

“Seems like a lot of competitions go on
around here, between this and Battle Night. Anything else I should
know about?”

Bolton’s eyebrow lifted and he shook his
head. “They need to blow off steam, that’s all. Otherwise they’re
cooped up. And when people get stir crazy it’s never pretty.”

“I can imagine.”

“I’m guessing you can’t.” Bolton gritted his
teeth. “A lot of bad stuff went on here back in the day. People not
wanting to co-exist with others not of their…kind. Sam had it rough
for a while, and that is an understatement.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Four years.” The rancher folded his arms,
stretching the sleeves of his shirt in a way that made him look
more like a wrestler than a rancher. “People have calmed down
somewhat. Settled into the fact they’re going to be here for the
rest of their lives most likely.”

“Death valley,” the guy beside Diego
muttered.

Diego nodded, solemn.

John wasn’t interested in local spook
stories, legends and whatever else the residents had thought up to
make their lives less mundane. “I have something else I need to
talk with you about.”

Bolton didn’t hesitate. He turned to the two
guys. “Head on out, I’ll catch up.”

“Sure boss.” They strode toward the barn
where Pat and Matthias were at the fence to the corral, feeding one
of the smaller horses.

“Matthias will look out for him. He’s a good
kid.”

John turned back to him. “How old is
Matthias?”

“Twenty-six. The father—Olympia’s late
husband—had family connections with a Venezuelan cartel, got in
deep transporting smack. DEA busted him and he rolled over on the
rest of the operation so the cartel came after his family.”

“He was killed?”

“No, he lived long enough to come here with
them and continue to screw up their lives. He had a heart attack
not long after but Matthias doesn’t talk about it. In fact, he
won’t mention his father at all.”

“Then how do you know all this?”

Bolton shrugged one shoulder. “I know a lot
of things.”

“Which brings me to another interesting
point. Why is your entire file nothing but your name and some basic
physiological details?”

“If you knew what was supposed to be in it,
you’d know the answer to that.”

“That doesn’t really help.”

Bolton grinned. “Don’t suppose it does. But
until your brother replies to my email and I’m certain you have the
appropriate security clearance, I can’t tell you squat.”

“Did Sheriff Chandler know?”

“Nope.”

“Do I need to know?”

“Debatable. But I’ll read you in if you’re
cleared.”

“Good enough.” John figured it had something
to do with a federal agency. The guy looked sort of familiar, and
he had that manner other agencies had. The fact it was four years
ago might narrow it down. He’d have to call his brother or do a
computer search when he got back to the office. There couldn’t be
that many guys named Bolton in law enforcement, even with the
different last name. The NSA might monitor usage from the library
but John had a longer leash. With a guy like Bolton it just wasn’t
worth flying blind, or waiting for Grant to decide.