Confessing to the Cowboy (12 page)

Maddy sniffed disdainfully, as if sitting in the booth she’d often sat in with Denver was far below her standards. “I see that Lynette Shivers isn’t working tonight, so I suppose the rumors are true and she’s with Denver tonight.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t keep track of my waitresses when they’re off duty,” Mary replied smoothly. “Now, what can I get for you?”

“If she thinks she’s going to have a relationship with Denver then she’s sadly mistaken. Denver has belonged to me since we were teenagers. Oh, we have our little spats and he comes in here and flirts with all the waitresses, but he always comes back to me where he belongs.” She raised her pointy little chin as if for punctuation.

“Maddy, I’m just here to feed you,” Mary replied evenly.

Maddy sighed with impatience as if what she really wanted was to discuss at length her dysfunctional romantic life. “Just give me one of those dinner salads and a diet cola.” She dismissed Mary with a wave of her hand.

Although Mary wasn’t one to get involved with town romances, she almost wished Denver would find a nice woman and settle down, a young woman who wasn’t Maddy Billings, a woman who didn’t think she could buy people and love.

Denver did like to flirt with the waitresses, and if Shirley and Dorothy had been young and carefree like Candy and Lynette, then Maddy would have been on the top of the suspect list, at least before Mary had learned that Jason was still alive.

What if it wasn’t Jason who was responsible? After all, it had been years. For all she knew Jason could have moved out of the country, divorced her and then forgotten all about her and Matt and built a new life with a new young woman he could dominate and control. And yet that didn’t explain either the anniversary card or the stuffed frog.

By the time the dinner rush began she had the mother of all headaches, torn between every theory of the case that flittered through her mind. What if Cameron focused only on the Jason angle and missed the real killer who could be a Grady Gulch native with motives they had yet to discern?

There was no guarantee that Jason was behind everything that had happened here in Grady Gulch. The anniversary card hadn’t been signed and might have had something to do with the café, not with her. The stuffed frog could have been from any one of Matt’s many friends. Maybe she’d overreacted to both because of her own guilty conscience.

Jason could simply be a red herring that would deflect law enforcement’s attention from the real killer and the real motives for the murders.

The only thing that soothed her aching head was thoughts of the moments she’d spent in Cameron’s arms that morning. He had been passionate and yet with an innate tenderness that had soothed many of the ragged edges of her soul, tattered remains she hadn’t even known had been left behind by her marriage.

Cameron had given her hope again, a hope she believed she’d never feel again. He’d made her believe in all kinds of possibilities. She could find happiness again, she could find the kind of love she deserved with a special man, a man who could be a loving stepfather to Matt.

That night after the café closed, as always Mary checked on her son and found him still awake. “Can’t sleep?” she asked as she sat down next to him on his bed.

“I’m trying, but I’m really not very sleepy.”

She reached out and stroked a strand of his blond hair off his forehead and realized it was time he knew the truth about her past...about his father.

“I need to talk to you about something that’s not going to be very pleasant,” she said.

Matt sat up and rubbed his eyes, his gaze curious in the light shining in from the living room. “Talk about what?”

Mary stared at his sweet little face and her heart felt heavier than she could remember in a long time. She’d somehow always expected this moment to come, but she’d never realized how difficult it would be.

She not only had to tell her son that she’d lied about the car accident that had supposedly taken his father’s life, but she also had to tell him that his father was a monster.

“I’ve lied to you.”

Her words made Matt’s eyes widen in shock. “You lied to me? About what?”

Slowly, haltingly, she told him everything, about the abuse, about the night she’d taken him and fled and that it was possible his father might be doing bad things now to punish her.

Matt took it all surprisingly well, with few questions and the comment that if the man who was his father had beaten Mary, then he was glad that man wasn’t in their lives. “If he’s a killer then I hope Sheriff Evans catches him and puts him in jail forever.”

They hugged, and Matt settled in to sleep, but Mary had a feeling there would be more questions from him as he processed the information she’d told him.

She took a quick shower and then changed into her nightshirt. With a cup of freshly brewed plum tea in hand she walked to the windows that faced the small cabins in the distance.

It had been in one of those cabins that the whole madness had begun, with Candy Bailey’s murder. Of the four cabins only one was occupied now by Rusty. A faint light spilled from the front window of his tiny cabin.

The other three cabins were illuminated faintly by the light of the big, fat moon overhead. The cabins had always been a safe place for people, particularly women in need. When she’d first come to Grady Gulch broke and with a two-year-old, the owner had allowed her and Matt to live in one of those cabins.

Over the years since Mary had taken over, she’d often had a down-and-out waitress living there, wanting to pay forward the kindness she’d received when she’d first come to town.

Now those cabins only signified isolation and death. She would never forget Candy’s lifeless body and she didn’t think she’d ever allow a vulnerable woman alone to stay in one of them again.

A small gasp escaped her as she thought she saw a figure move between two of the cabins. She froze, her heart crashing against her ribs as a frantic terror rose up the back of her throat.

Was it him? The killer? Was it Jason coming to finally make her pay for what she’d done to him? But he didn’t appear to be moving toward the café.

In the blink of an eye the figure was gone, making her wonder if she’d seen somebody or not. Tall trees surrounded the small structures and a light breeze stirred among the nearly bare branches. Had she only seen a dancing shadow of a tree branch in the moonlight?

Should she call Cameron or was she merely jumping at shadows? She took a step backward, aware that she was silhouetted by the light in the room. With a trembling hand she placed her cup on the coffee table and turned off the light, plunging her room into darkness and then moved back to the window. An icy shiver slid up her back, one that had nothing to do with the coolness of the room.

Once again she peered outside, this time her vision better without the light on in the room. Nothing. Nothing but a faint night breeze shifting the tree branches in a ghostly landscape.

She didn’t know how long she stood at the window, a frightened sentry guarding her home and her son before she finally convinced herself she was being silly. She was jumping at tree movement, seeing shadows of killers who weren’t there.

With a tremulous sigh she finally moved away from the window and headed into her bedroom. She still felt spooked, but was certain she was overreaching due to a heightened sense of imagination.

All the talk of Jason had brought back hurtful and horrific memories that had haunted her throughout the day. Still, she found some comfort as she burrowed beneath the covers on her bed, within the sheets that still smelled vaguely of Cameron.

She could love him, if she let go and allowed herself, but at the moment she was afraid that in loving him she’d put him at risk. She was afraid that she’d put him in the sights of a killer who wanted to destroy everything she cared about and, finally, she was scared that somehow, someway, if it were Jason behind all this, she wouldn’t survive him again.

Chapter 10

I
t was only ten o’clock and Cameron had already thought about calling Mary twice just to assure himself she was okay. But he knew she would be busy with the morning rush and that business would probably slow down midday because the forecast was for a band of snow to move in later in the afternoon.

He turned around in his chair and gazed out the window, where he was met with a sky the color of dark steel, the clouds low and appearing laden with something they were determined to cast down.

Just what he didn’t need, a couple of inches of snow to complicate things. Snow always brought with it a slew of traffic accidents, slips and falls and dozens of other issues he didn’t have the time to deal with, not with a killer plotting his next move.

What he needed to do was find Jason McKnight. Posters of the man had been hung all over Grady Gulch and Evanston. Hopefully, if he was in the area, somebody would see him and call the TIP line they’d set up.

Deputy Larry Brooks was in charge of managing that dedicated phone line, which so far had yielded the typical opportunity for every nut in the county to call in. Sam Canfield had been the first call, telling Larry that he’d seen a cigar-shaped mother ship drop Jason off in his field and from there Jason had disappeared into the woods on the property.

Clarissa Defoe had called in to let them know that Jason had been her lover for the past five years. Clarissa was ninety-two years old, on an oxygen tank full-time and lived with her only son and his wife.

At the moment, Cameron was waiting for Denver Walton to arrive for an unofficial chat. Denver had, indeed, come into a big windfall. According to his bank records, a month ago fifty thousand dollars had been deposited into his account from an unknown source.

It had been about that time that Denver and Maddy had broken up and Denver had bought a new pickup truck. Cameron intended to confront the man about his new financial situation and see if he had any ties at all to Mary’s ex-husband.

He looked up as Ben Temple entered his office and flopped down on the chair next to Cameron’s desk. “I spent all day yesterday talking to people who knew Thomas Manning and his wife. According to everyone I spoke to, Thomas is a timid, book type who didn’t appear overly upset at the time that his wife left him.”

“Trouble in the marriage?” Cameron asked. Neighbors usually knew more about the couple next door than people realized.

“Nothing overt,” Ben replied. “No domestic abuse issues, friends and coworkers said that Thomas was a rather passionless kind of guy, hard to get to know, but nobody ever saw him lose his temper and he never spoke ill of Nancy after she left him.”

“Still waters run deep?” Cameron mused.

“Maybe, but if he’s been paid off as a hit man then he’s hidden the money well. He lives a simple life that hasn’t changed in the last couple of months. There’s been no unusual activity in his bank account.”

“But we both know money is easy to hide. Offshore accounts are fairly easy to set up. Hell, for all we know he has a stash underneath his mattress.”

“I heard you have Denver coming in for an interview.”

“I figured he was a good a place to start as any. He seems to have come into a bit of money lately. He lives alone on an isolated little piece of land and can pretty much come and go as he pleases. He doesn’t seem to have a legitimate job that I know about, so I figured maybe it’s time we need to have a talk.”

Ben nodded. “Denver’s an odd duck, lives alone on that little place his parents left him when they moved to Florida. The only real connection he’s ever had with anyone here in town has been Maddy Billings. They’ve been a couple off and on since they were teenagers.”

“Apparently he’s dating Lynette Shivers now,” Cameron replied.

One of Ben’s dark eyebrows rosse. “Hope it sticks, that Maddy Billings is bad news. Her and her high-falutin’ attitude. She’s been so nasty to so many people here in town she’s gonna have a problem finding anyone who might want to date her.”

Cameron gazed at the young handsome single deputy before him. “Maybe you should take her out, see if you can straighten out her attitude a little.”

Ben snorted. “Obviously you suffer a secret hatred of me even to consider such a thing. I’d rather stab myself in the eye with a fork than take Maddy Billings anywhere.”

Cameron laughed and at that moment Larry Brooks poked his head in the door to let him know that Denver had arrived and was waiting in the small interrogation room down the hall.

“Time to get to work,” Cameron said as he rose from his desk. “Hopefully by the end of this interview I’ll know if we can take Denver off our suspect list or move him straight up to the top.”

He and Ben parted ways in the hallway, Ben heading toward the front door of the office and Cameron to the interview room. The room was small, with a one-way window and held only a table and a couple of chairs. It was a typical interrogation room that was rarely used.

Denver sprawled in a chair like he was at home in front of his television, his big black winter jacket thrown over the chair next to him. “Hey, Sheriff,” he said easily as Cameron entered the room.

“‘Morning Denver.” Cameron eased down in the chair opposite the handsome, dark-haired man.

“You want to tell me what I’m doing here? I didn’t even have time for breakfast this morning. Was I seen jaywalking or maybe spitting on the sidewalk?”

Cameron ignored Denver’s attempt at levity. “Would you like a cup of coffee or something else to drink?” Cameron asked.

Denver shook his head and leaned forward in his chair, his easygoing smile falling from his lips. “I’d just like to get out of here. So, whatever you need to do, let’s get it done.”

“I want to talk to you about Jason McKnight.”

“Who?” Denver looked at him in apparent confusion.

“Jason McKnight, the man who paid you handsomely to terrorize Mary Mathis by killing off the women who work for her.” Cameron watched Denver’s features closely. “The man who’s pulling the strings behind all these murders.”

Denver slammed his back against the chair, his eyes widened in surprise. “What in the hell are you talking about? I don’t know any Jason whoever and I sure as hell have nothing to do with the murders. I loved those women who worked at the café. They were friends of mine.”

“Are you working, Denver? Nobody I’ve talked to around town seems to know exactly how you make a living.”

Denver’s eyes darkened slightly. “I raise a few cattle and have some crops. I get by okay.”

“Rumor has it you get by with the help of Maddy Billings’s wallet.”

Denver’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I won’t lie, Maddy has helped me out now and then financially, but I’m done with her and I’m done with her money. I’ve finally discovered my pride.” He tilted his chin upward.

“Then talk to me about your new truck, about the fifty-thousand-dollar deposit in your bank account,” Cameron said.

Once again Denver appeared shocked. “You’ve checked my bank account?”

“I’d check your underwear if I thought it would lead me to the killer,” Cameron replied drily. “Now, talk to me about that money.”

“It was an inheritance from my grandfather. I’ve got all the papers at my place. You can check it out. It’s all legit,” Denver exclaimed, rising half out of his chair. He eased back down and looked Cameron straight in the eyes. “It’s what gave me the courage, the freedom, to finally break away from Maddy, the freedom to find out who I am as a man, but one thing I know for sure is that I had nothing to do with those women’s deaths. I cared about those women.”

There was a truth that rang in his words and shone from his eyes, a truth that Cameron reluctantly found himself believing. “Bring me the paperwork all about your inheritance,” he said, disappointed that he was fairly certain Denver Walton had just slid off the top of his suspect list, leaving him few people left to investigate and a murderer to catch before he killed again.

* * *

For the first time in years Mary got up, got dressed and then laid back on the sofa to rest her feet before beginning the day. Matt awakened her when he came in to tell her he was leaving for school and asked if she were sick.

She jumped up from the sofa, stunned by the relative lateness of the hour and assured her son she wasn’t sick, but just a sleepyhead who had fallen back asleep after getting up and dressed.

It was almost eight-thirty by the time she hurried from her back rooms and into the café kitchen, where things were already in full swing.

Rusty manned the grill like an old pro while waitresses turned in orders at a pace that let her know the café was unusually busy.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said as Rusty raised an eyebrow in her direction. “I got up and then fell back asleep on the sofa. Thankfully Matt woke me before he left for school.”

“Sleeping in...that’s a first.”

“I guess I stayed up too late last night.” After thinking she saw somebody around the cabins, she’d had trouble going to sleep and knew it had been after two before she finally drifted off into a dreamless sleep. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going,” Rusty replied. “Junior didn’t show up for work, I figure he got his schedule screwed up again.”

Mary nodded. It wasn’t unusual for Junior to occasionally not show up for a shift because he’d gotten confused about what shift he was supposed to work. “He’ll probably show up around two for the evening shift. You need help with prepping or anything? I can take over Junior’s jobs if you need me.”

“Nah, hope you don’t mind but when it became obvious that Junior wasn’t going to show up I called in James to bus tables through the lunch hour.” James Waldron was a high school graduate who worked for Mary whenever possible.

“Sounds like you have everything under control.”

Rusty flashed her a quick smile. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”

Mary laughed as she left the kitchen and moved into the café dining area where the breakfast rush was winding down. George Wilton was at the cash register, paying for “the worst breakfast he’d ever had in his life,” Marianne and Bob Unger lingered over coffee. The middle-aged married couple came in every Monday for breakfast and after all their years of marriage it was still obvious that they only had eyes for each other.

John and Jeff Taylor, the twins who had recently moved to the area from someplace back east, were chatting to the couple seated at the table next to them. Brandon Williams sat alone at a table for two, a chair pulled aside to accommodate his motorized wheelchair.

She felt sorry for the vet, who had lost the use of his legs in a bomb explosion that had also left his face scarred. Once when visiting with him for a moment she’d noticed what appeared to be makeup on his forehead and realized he’d apparently made some sort of an attempt to hide the worst of his facial scarring.

Still, it was hard to feel too sorry for him as he was a gregarious man who didn’t appear to suffer any self-pity because of his situation. He was a favorite among the waitresses, not only because he tipped well, but also because he had a terrific sense of humor.

Everyone looked happy and cared for, and Mary was pleased to see the three waitresses bustling between tables to make sure all the guests stayed that way.

She poured herself a cup of coffee and sank down at the stool behind the long wooden counter, where at the moment nobody sat to eat.

She wished Cameron was here, seated on the other side of the counter, gazing at her with his beautiful hazel eyes. But it was a foolish thought. The less she had to do with Cameron, the less danger she felt she placed him in.

If their theory was right and Jason or one of his paid minions was killing people close to Mary, then the last thing she wanted was for anyone to know the true depth of her feelings for Cameron.

For some reason she wasn’t afraid for Matt. Even as evil as she believed Jason to be, she didn’t think he’d want to kill Matt. He would simply want to own him. He’d want Mary to die knowing that Matt would be with him for the rest of Matt’s youth.

She shoved these troubling thoughts out of her head. She didn’t want to think about Jason or the killings, although she was acutely aware that it had been one week ago today that Dorothy’s body had been found in her bed.

As always when she thought of the three victims her heart crunched with the pain of loss. She didn’t want any more victims, not in this town that she loved, not from the café that was her life.

Rather than focus on the trauma of the last week, she walked around the café, greeting her diners and visiting with each for just a minute. It was what everyone called the “Mary” touch, the personal attention she tried to give everyone who entered her establishment.

“Good morning, Brandon,” she greeted the scarred, bald war veteran. “Hope you’re finding your breakfast to your liking.”

Brandon patted his bulging stomach. “I’m afraid I find all your food to my liking. If I keep eating here I’ll need two scooters to get myself around town.” He winked one of his blue eyes. “Unfortunately I’m a man who hates to cook and this place makes it far too easy to eat well despite my inadequacies.”

“We’re always glad to see you here,” she replied and then moved on to visit with the twins for a few minutes.

Even as she put on her pleasant face and went about her usual business, she couldn’t help but think about Jason. Surely he’d stick out in this rough-and-tumble town with his elegant features and slick dark hair. Even in a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, he’d poke out like a sore thumb. But if he’d hired somebody to do his dirty work, then he’d never have to make a personal appearance here in Grady Gulch.

It was between the lunch and dinner rush, when the café was fairly empty that Mary thought about that moment the night before when she thought she’d seen somebody skulking around the cottages.

She hadn’t been inside any of them since Candy’s death. Maybe it was time to check them out and make sure no vandals had done any damage and no squatters had taken up residency without her knowledge.

“Rusty, have you ever seen anyone around the other cottages out back?” she asked as the burly cook sat on a stool drinking a cup of coffee and eating a thick ham sandwich.