BIG SKY SECRETS 01: Final Exposure (2 page)

But instead of Montana-cowboy memorabilia,
crossed fishing poles had been hammered to the outside wall, along with an immense fish carved out of wood.

Max stared at the gaping jaws of the fish and stumbled backward, reaching for Jack’s hand. “He’s
big.”

“That’s Edgar.” The soft, sympathetic voice came from inside the building. “He scared me until I started fifth grade. But he’s really only a big ol’piece of wood.”

Jack followed the sound of the voice to a hazy silhouette on the other side of the screen door.

A second later the woman pushed the door open and bent down to smile at Max. “Once I named him Edgar, he didn’t seem so scary.”

She’d appeared to be of ample size when viewed through the screen, but now he realized that she was about as substantial as Tinkerbell—just a delicate little thing, swathed in a voluminous apron.

In her late twenties or early thirties at most, with long, dark blond hair braided and pulled through the back of a red Millie’s Provisions ball cap, she had a smudge of flour on one cheek.

Her light blue eyes sparkled with amusement when she looked up at Jack, and he realized he’d been staring.

“I’m Erin, the owner. I’m running behind in the kitchen, but just give a holler when you finish shopping and I’ll zip over to the register.”

He’d researched long-term vacation lodging on the
Internet, and the place he’d found here, just a single rental house set in the mountains of western Montana, sounded perfect as a quiet getaway. He’d immediately arranged a lease on the phone.

He’d had to supply multiple references—which he knew she’d verified—and he’d had to pay two months’ rent with a certified check before she agreed to a three-month lease and mailed him a key.

Given all that, he’d guessed that his temporary landlady would be tough to deal with should anything go awry, but now his preconceptions melted away.

Once upon a time, he might have felt an instant flash of attraction. He might have even flirted a little, just to see where things led.

But not anymore.

Romance and the responsibilities of single parenting—especially in his case—were mutually exclusive. His ex-fiancée’s resentment and abrupt defection after Max’s arrival into his life had made that crystal clear.

Worse, Max had inadvertently overheard part of Elana’s declaration about not wanting to raise someone else’s child. He’d become even more withdrawn after that, and Jack would never risk that kind of harm again.

He offered his hand. “I’m Jack, and this is Max, my nephew.”

“I saw the lights go on at the house late last night and went out to check the license plate on your car
to be sure it was you, but figured I’d wait until today to come over. And then, well, things got a little busy over here.”

Her cheerful smile wavered as she dusted her hand against her apron and accepted a brief handshake, then playfully shook Max’s hand, as well. “I’m so sorry I didn’t make it over to greet you, too.”

Surprised that the child didn’t shy away from her touch, Jack nodded toward an immense calico cat curled up on a chair at the end of the porch. “Will she let Max pet her?”

Erin laughed. “Pet her. Lug her around. She came with the store and she’s definitely not very energetic.”

After Max headed for the cat, Jack lowered his voice. “You had some trouble over here early this morning.”

The woman’s cheerful facade slipped for a second before she retrieved another bright smile. “Nothing major.”

This was a subject he didn’t want to discuss with Max at his side, and the child could be back any second. Jack curbed his impatience. “There was a squad car parked in front of this store, with at least two officers and several onlookers. Sounds sort of major to me.”

Erin bit her lower lip. “I came into the store to start baking and thought I heard an intruder leaving. I didn’t actually
see
anyone.”

“What about the cash register? Your merchandise?”

“The cash register was fine. As for the merchandise…” A faint blush tinted her cheeks. “I took over the store a couple of weeks ago, and I’ve mostly been painting and stocking, getting ready for reopening today. Nothing seems to be missing. And I’m not
absolutely
certain I heard an intruder.”

He caught the fine trembling of her hands and an uneasy flicker of her gaze toward the back of the store. “Except?” he asked.

“Nothing, really. Just a feeling…as if things were slightly out of place. But if someone actually did break in, why wouldn’t they grab the cash? Or the pricey jewelry and digital cameras in the glass display case by the register?”

“True.”

“In the back there are syringes and basic pharmaceuticals stocked for the ranchers and horse owners who treat their own animals. I did inventory on those things a few days ago, so I know none of them were touched. I could tell that the officers who showed up thought I was wasting their time.”

Jack thought about Max’s terror last night. Dense, dark pine forest loomed over the store, the rental house next door and the cottage out back. Here and there, a twinkling flash of blue revealed the southwest shore of Bear Island Lake beyond the trees. Though it was probably a bustling area in the sum
mer, he hadn’t noticed any other houses or other businesses close by.

Anyone could find easy cover out here. They could even approach via the lake to avoid being seen on the highway.

“If nothing was taken, maybe someone has a more personal reason to break in.”

“I haven’t lived up here since I graduated from high school. I can’t imagine who it could be.”

She managed to present a casual air, yet now he saw a flicker of fear in her eyes, noticed the way she jammed her trembling hands into the pockets of her apron.

Maybe she was trying to deny it even to herself, but Jack thought she was sure there had been someone here…

And she had an idea who it could be.

A
t the end of her first day of business Erin wearily checked the dead bolt on the front door, tallied the cash and checks in the cash register then prepared the money bag and deposit slip.

She moved to the back of the store, then opened the door to the kitchen and flipped on the lights to survey the room before stepping inside.

In every shadow she imagined an intruder. Coiled muscles. Narrowed eyes.

Waiting.

Waiting.

Waiting until no customers were around who could hear her scream.

But no one was lying in wait for her, and this morning’s moment of panic had probably been her imagination, as well, not born of a flesh-and-blood threat.

It wouldn’t be anything new. Frightening images
had been a part of her dreams for fifteen years, because sweet, giggly, impetuous Laura had likely actually
lived
every terrible second of Erin’s nightmares during her last moments on earth—until her captor sliced her throat and buried her before her body was even cold.

Years of counseling and prayer and determination had helped Erin move on, into college and a career and even some romantic relationships, though they were doomed from the start. She’d never been able to forget. Laura’s killer had made sure of that.

But she was done running from her past, a past branded by fear and grief and faith that hadn’t been strong enough.
God, I know you’re with me…that I can trust in You.

Taking a steadying breath, she stepped into the kitchen and lingered in front of the upright freezer, debating before pulling out five pounds of premium, apple-smoked bacon to thaw in the fridge overnight.

Early September marked the waning of the tourist season, though a few travelers usually filtered north to enjoy the glorious fall colors. But even this first weekend of the month had been slow. Of course, maybe the word had spread when the store was closed for a few months. But even so, there’d been just a handful of customers all day.

She’d recognized only two of them—Martha, the silver-haired postmistress who had been in town
since the Dark Ages, and Isabelle Jane Swanson, an elderly, overweight retired schoolteacher who’d been a lifelong friend of Grandma Millie’s.

The other customers had been unfamiliar and mostly male, and she’d felt an inward shiver every time one of them walked in the door.

Anyone could stop in on the pretext of buying a fishing lure or a pack of gum. Case the place. Come back after dark. Evil could be hidden behind a casual smile and a bit of innocuous conversation.

Oh, Grandpa Pete, maybe I shouldn’t have come back here, after all.

But Gramps was now living in Florida with his elderly sister, finally enjoying life after too many hard, lonely years of running the store by himself, and those were words she would never say to him. He’d come back in a flash and insist on tearing up the contract she’d signed. He would give up his last chance at happiness for her, and that was something she would never allow.

She was grown up now.

Fifteen years had passed since Laura’s death, and almost ten since Erin received the last of the eerie, anonymous notes that had arrived every year on the anniversary of the murder.
DON’T TELL.

Don’t tell what? Erin hadn’t seen or heard anything that could help with the case, but those ongoing messages had haunted her dreams for years.

Kris and Megan had received them, too, until the murderer apparently committed suicide in an isolated cabin while the sheriff and his deputies were closing in on him. A note with the body confessed to a number of murders—in the sort of grisly detail only the real killer would know.

God was all-powerful, and He granted grace and forgiveness to His children. Erin still clung to the power of faith.

But no matter how hard she tried, she could not forgive the ruthless animal who had stolen Laura’s future and the innocence of her best friends with that one, savage act.

The investigators had closed the case. But that hadn’t stopped her nightmares or eliminated her fear of being alone outside at night…where shadows loomed and coalesced into frightening specters that threatened to leap out and drag her away. For years she’d felt her heart pound and her palms go damp if she had to cross a darkened parking lot.

I’m finally beyond that now, God. It’s all in the past.

“But tomorrow,” she muttered to herself, “I’m definitely getting a dog.”

The phone rang shrill and loud.

Startled, she spun around on her heel and caught the edge of a saucepan with her elbow. It crashed to the floor, bouncing and rolling drunkenly. The
deafening noise reverberated through the store even as she picked up the receiver.

The voice on the line was one she hadn’t heard in a long, long time.
“Megan?”

“Believe it or not.” Her cousin’s husky laugh brought back a flood of memories of the childhood they’d shared. “I’m not the best at keeping in touch.”

“No kidding. I haven’t heard from you since last Christmas.”

“With all the cutbacks, we’re down to just three full-time deputies. The overtime is great, but I’ve pretty much given up on a personal life. I couldn’t believe it when I got your note about moving back to Montana, by the way. I didn’t think that would ever happen.”

“I’m glad to be here.” Erin hesitated. “It took me a lot of years to even entertain the thought, but it was time. And it was good timing for Gramps, too.”

“He should’ve retired a long time ago. But like everyone else in this family, he’s just too independent and stubborn for his own good.”

“So how about you?” Erin forced a teasing note into her voice. “Are you still busy being the scourge of the bad guys in Marshall County?”

“Until my last breath.”

And from the steel in those words, Erin knew it was true. “Would you have even dreamed of being a cop if Laura hadn’t died?”

“Maybe not. But every person I put behind bars
makes me feel…well, like I’m doing something for her.” Megan gave a self-conscious chuckle. “Crazy, isn’t it?”

“That night changed us all. Krissie married too young—”

“To the wrong guy.”

“So true. And I moved far away as soon as I could. But you—you turned into the family’s superhero.”

“A deputy in a sparsely populated county hardly qualifies for that, hon,” Megan said dryly.

“From what little you’ve told me over the years, I think it does. You take way too many risks.”

“It’s my job. So how’s the store? Do you have it up and running again?”

Erin smiled at Megan’s swift change of topic. “Yes, but things are pretty slow. I do have someone renting the house, though, to help with expenses.”

“So it’s all good, then.”

“Not exactly. I…um…think I might have had an intruder.”

“When?” Megan’s voice instantly transformed to cop mode.

“Early this morning. I went inside to start baking and thought I heard someone.”

Megan ticked through a dozen probing questions, her voice laced with concern. “So what are your plans for improving security at that place? I’ll bet an eighty-year-old granny could kick through that front door.”

“I’m going to check on security systems, and I’ll look into getting a steel entry door for the back. I’m also thinking about getting a dog.”

“Good idea.” Megan said briskly. “An adult dog, one with a big bark. I think there’s still an animal shelter up in Battle Creek.”

“I’ll definitely check it out.”

“I can guess what you’re thinking.” Megan hesitated, then her voice gentled. “Given those anonymous notes we all got after Laura died, you might be wondering if her killer is somehow still alive. If he’s now coming after you.”

Erin stilled.

“I looked into our old case when I first took this job. The guy really did die in that cabin. The fingerprints matched. He’s no longer out there watching us…trying to scare us into silence. So don’t get spooked over that breakin, hear? Forget it and move on.”

Dear, forthright Megan, who’d never been daunted by any challenge in her life. Who always knew what to say, no matter what. “I know. But it’s still good to hear a reminder.”

Something crackled in the background. Erin could hear the muffled words of a dispatcher—probably on the patrol-car radio.