Sunrise Crossing (20 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

F
IFTH
W
EATHERS
FELT
like something was wrong before he even made it down to breakfast at the bed-and-breakfast. He hadn't heard one sound from the professor's room last night after he'd come in. The guy was a pacer, a light sleeper who often went down for a snack in the middle of the night or clicked his lights on or dropped papers or dressed in the middle of the night and took a walk.

Last night Fifth hadn't heard anything. Not even the shower running at six, as it usually did. This mystery man, with holes in his past, reminded Fifth of one of those portraits in a horror gallery, the one that looked sweet until you stepped closer and a skeleton appeared behind the harmless face.

When he passed the professor's door, Fifth thought of tapping on it. He'd already tried the knob on his way to the shower. It was locked. By the time Fifth sat down to the empty table at breakfast, he'd decided Professor Gabe Santorno was either laid out dead on his bed or he hadn't spent the night in his room.

Where would a harmless bookworm like him go? Fifth couldn't even imagine the guy picking up someone in a bar and going home with them. He might have been a ranger years ago, but he was a professor type now even if he didn't have a class to teach.

“Morning, Fifth.” Daisy was as cheery as ever. “How's the morning treating you?”

“I'm fine,” he lied. In truth, he was counting the hours until Friday night. “How are you?”

“Can't complain.” She set down his usual three eggs, toast and half-dozen sausages. “Philip from the bakery was late delivering our rolls this morning. Seems some farmer who dropped in for coffee at dawn swore he saw a man running near the north road carrying a body. Philip felt the need to stop and tell everyone on his delivery route the frightening news. It'll probably be noon before he makes it to the school.” Daisy straightened as if doing her duty. “I told Philip the person he needed to tell was you or the sheriff. He said he would as soon as the office opened.”

“He could call 911.”

She shook her head. “He wouldn't do that even if he was on fire, having a heart attack and taking gunfire. Philip used to date Pearly. He swore he'd never talk to her again, and since she's the only 911 operator, we just all have to pray he doesn't have to face an emergency.”

“What about the farmer? He could call.”

Daisy shook her head. “No. He told Philip. That seemed to be enough. He'd be burning daylight if he hung around until eight.”

Fifth would have been worried, but Daisy had a new story every few days. Last week she'd claimed an egg-sucking dog was breaking into houses, gobbling up eggs by the dozen, and last month she'd heard some nut was poisoning the water supply just because he couldn't get his cable to work.

He'd head into the office and find out what was going on as soon as he shoveled down a few bites.

When he swallowed, he asked, “Is the professor up and gone this morning?” Fifth kept his voice from sounding too interested in the answer.

“Haven't seen him.” She shrugged. “Come to think of it, I didn't hear him unlock the front door last night. I always hear that lock clanking like it's a gate on the Tower of London. One of these days I'm going to replace it, even if Rose does think the old thing makes the door look quaint.”

“Dr. Santorno?” Fifth asked, gently guiding her back to their conversation.

“Oh, yes, the professor. I do hope the poor man is all right. After that terrible fall he had in the rain the other night, my sister and I have been worried about him.”

“What fall?” Fifth had forgotten about the fall. It hadn't sounded like a big deal when he'd heard about it earlier and the professor hadn't looked any the worse for wear the next morning. But now he needed Daisy to run through the facts again.

“Oh, it was the night it rained so hard last week. He said he stepped sideways to miss what he thought was a snake and ended up in that deep ditch over by Yancy Grey's old house. If some kid hadn't come along, no telling what would have happened. He might have lain there and died. Our professor. Makes me shudder to even think about how it could have ended.”

Fifth frowned. How could anything happen in his town without him knowing every detail, and when in hell had Gabe Santorno become “our” professor? He wasn't some stray dog the sisters had adopted from the pound. Fifth might be the sisters' deputy, but Santorno hadn't been around long enough to belong here.

“Who was the kid who helped?” Fifth, for once, had lost his appetite for breakfast.

“I didn't get a good look. When I saw the professor all muddy and bleeding, I didn't think about the kid. The professor said she was a petite woman, but he didn't get her name.” Daisy smiled. “I'm afraid I wouldn't make a very good witness. I thought she was a boy. Dressed like one as I remember, but had on yellow rain boots. I remember seeing them as I closed the door. She was almost to the street by then, but those boots were shining in the streetlight.”

Fifth asked a few more questions, but all he got were repeat answers. Daisy had a habit of saying things twice, and if you didn't get away fast, she'd run through it all again just as a refresher course. “Miss Daisy, would you call the sheriff and tell him everything? I'm working on another case but he'll want to start checking into this one.”

She stood at attention. “I will, Deputy.”

“Thanks. Your help is deeply needed.” He'd made her day. If there was any truth to the story a farmer related to Philip, who related it to Daisy, who related it to him, the sheriff should know about it as soon as possible.

As he walked to his car, he dialed Madison. “Morning,” he said when she answered.

“I'm already at the chopper. Where are you and that cowboy? We're supposed to do a flyover to see if we can find any tracks of shooters on his land.”

“What are you wearing?” Fifth grinned.

“Shut up,” she answered.

He laughed. “I love it when you yell at me. Once I figured out it was your own brand of foreplay, I see it in a whole different light.” He didn't have to see her face to know she was blushing beneath those beautiful red curls. She might think herself tough, with a smart mouth, but she clearly wasn't used to someone who was so attracted to her he'd wade through all the bull. Man, when Madison O'Grady wrapped herself around him, he felt nothing but loved—or maybe used. She was a demanding woman. He'd better start working out so he could keep up.

“Fifth.” She woke him out of a great fantasy. “Why'd you call? I don't have time for this kind of thing.”

“You had time for it last night before we left the office and again when we had to stop on the way to your cousin's place. I love the way you catch your breath every time...”

“We are not having this conversation, Fifth.” He could hear the slight giggle in her voice. “I'm standing out here waiting for you and Clint Montgomery to show up so we can fly.”

“I'm driving toward you right now. We'll talk about that catch in your breath later. I've got to be all business right now.” He knew they had to talk before they were with Clint. “One question, darlin'. When we were at Parker Lacey's farmhouse next to Montgomery land, what did you see by the back door?”

“Is this a test?”

“Yes.”

“A hook by a bolted back door with a flyswatter hanging on it. Blue handle, I think.” Madison was silent for a moment. “A rug so old it looked ragged. A pair of rain boots.”

“What color?”

“Yellow.”

“Bingo.”

“I give up. What do I win?”

Fifth turned onto the north road, passing Yancy's place. “I thought that was what I saw, but I knew you had time for a better look. I think the boots belonged to our invisible guest in the house, and I also think there's one man in town who knows who she is besides the three mute, honest people at the farmhouse.”

“Really. Who?”

Fifth wished he could see Madison's face as he said, “Gabe Santorno. The professor we both know is far more than he claims to be.”

“Holy cow,” Madison whispered. “There just seems to be more and more pieces of this puzzle that don't fit together. We've got an invisible guest in a farmhouse being shot at and a stranger who's lied about his past.”

“Don't forget he was an army ranger, an arms specialist, and has had no documented means of employment for the past ten years.”

He filled her in on everything Daisy had told him at breakfast.

“The boots belong to the same person. Our invisible guest. The fourth place setting,” he ended.

“And all we know about the invisible lady is that she has three good friends hiding her and she's petite.” Fifth made a mental note to stop by the farmhouse as soon as he finished with the flight. “If I find the professor, I plan to ask him a few questions. Apparently, the guy didn't come home last night.”

“I see your cruiser,” Madison interrupted. “The cowboy's blue pickup is right behind you.”

“Right. We'll talk about this later, babe.”

“Don't call me ‘babe,'” she snapped.

“You got it, babe.” Fifth laughed as he ended the call. There was something about a mad redhead that turned him on.

When Fifth pulled up he was all business. The three of them talked for a few minutes, then climbed into the chopper. Montgomery told them where the entrances on his land were and they flew over them all, crossing back and forth.

Sure enough, when they flew low, they saw fresh tracks in one field, but not on Clint's land. The tracks were on the land he'd sold Parker Lacey, and from the looks of it, whoever had driven across her land had broken the lock on the gate to get in or out.

Fifth leaned up between the two front seats. “Do you know of any reason someone would want to cause trouble for Parker? She seems like a nice lady.”

“None at all.” Clint sounded angry. “I farm that field every spring. The lock was solid and there was nothing in the pasture to steal.”

“Maybe they were after her?” Fifth almost added
or whoever she's hiding
, but he didn't want to put Clint on the spot. Not just yet.

Clint shook his head. “She owns a nice art gallery in the trendy part of Dallas.” The cowboy seemed to think about it and added, “She's been a good neighbor.”

Twenty minutes later, they landed near where the pickup and cruiser were parked.

Fifth said he'd go into town and collect the sheriff, and then the three of them could walk to where the tracks turned around. Maybe they'd get lucky and find a clue.

Madison shook hands with Clint and said she had to get to work, but she'd be happy to help if she could.

Montgomery looked at the small helicopter that had saved them so much time. “Does the government just issue you one of these like some folks get a company car?”

Madison laughed. “No. At work I fly a V-22 Osprey. This little chopper is all mine.”

Clint nodded. “Right, the Osprey. Half airplane, half helicopter, totally badass.”

“You know it?”

“No, I read about it in the paper when I was in New York. Since then I've seen a few flying around here. Test flights out of Amarillo, I'm guessing.” Clint tipped his hat. “You must be one hell of a pilot, Madison.”

“I'm working on it.”

Fifth could tell Montgomery had made a friend. He didn't know whether to be proud of his almost-girlfriend or jealous. Clint was older, but not that much older.

“We'd best be moving,” Fifth interrupted. “I'll meet you at your place, Mr. Montgomery.” Fifth suddenly wanted to keep it formal between them all.

“Right.” Clint nodded a goodbye and headed for his pickup.

Fifth waited for Montgomery to drive away then walked Madison back to the chopper. “He probably Googled
helicopters
last night just so he could impress you.”

She laughed. “I don't think he had time.”

“Why?”

“The guy hasn't been home. Didn't you notice that he was still wearing the same clothes he had on last night? Spaghetti stains and all.”

Again, Fifth was impressed by how observant Madison was. “So, if he slept somewhere, I'm guessing it was the farmhouse.”

“From the looks of him, he didn't sleep much, if at all.”

“Right,” Fifth said, as if he'd noticed that, too. “Question is, which one did he sleep with? The owner he said was a good neighbor or the invisible guest with questionable taste in footwear.”

“I'm guessing Parker, because I saw nothing, not even friendly flirting, between her and Yancy Grey. I'm not even sure they were friends, even though Yancy must have been invited to dinner. So if Yancy was in her house, he wasn't there to see Parker.”

“Right,” he said again as if he was with the program. “Only I didn't see much between Montgomery and Parker. They didn't look like they fit together. She's a polished lady and he's a shit-kicking cowboy.”

“When he came back in the house last night, he only looked at her. For a few seconds everyone else in the room didn't make it into his line of vision,” Madison countered.

“So, let me get this straight. We're looking for an invisible person who three, maybe four people—if you count the professor—are trying to protect. All we know about her, besides her shoe choices are terrible, is that she's petite and matches up with Yancy Grey.”

“Right.”

Fifth shook his head. “I've been in town two years and have yet to see a woman match with Yancy. The guy's a loner. Talks to old people all day. Works every night on an old house that will probably take him years to build.”

“Work on it, Weathers.” She laughed as she kissed him on the cheek and climbed into her chopper. “You may find he has time for something else.”