Murdered in Conard County Read online

  After all, they were, every one of them, respectable people without police records. He and Karl were pillars of their community. Jeff was...well, an underachiever. Not a man to like taking risks even to get ahead.

  Now this. Jeff had been in the Army with that ranger woman. She’d glimpsed him on their first survey trip when they’d gone to pick the campground for the hit. He said he was sure she hadn’t recognized him.

  But Jeff had recognized her and that stuck in Will’s craw like a fish bone. Not good.

  Karl didn’t like it, either. There was a link now, and Jeff was that link. They either had to get rid of Jeff or get rid of the ranger. Neither of them especially wanted to kill Jeff. He’d been part of their entire lives, and his father had been like a beloved uncle to them.

  But one or the other had to go. If that woman ranger remembered Jeff being there, and found just one thing, anything, that made her draw a connection, there was going to be hell to pay.

  Jeff had called just an hour ago on the sat phone, telling Will that a thunderstorm had him pinned down and he couldn’t act tonight, especially with another ranger there. Will figured he just needed some goading.

  For Pete’s sake, pinned down by a freaking thunderstorm? Jeff needed to grow some cojones. If there were two rangers there, so what? Take them both out, then get the hell out of there. At the least, it would make this case stand out from the others in case the growing talk made the authorities think about the murders being linked.

  Frustration with Jeff was nothing new these days. Will growled to himself, then pulled his tablet out of its case and looked at the map on which he’d been following Jeff’s every move. Jeff had no idea that Will and Karl could track him, not that it probably mattered to him.

  But it mattered to Will and Karl. If the man took a hike anywhere near a cop, they wanted to be able to step in. So far Jeff hadn’t entertained any such thoughts, at least none that he’d evinced.

  But that didn’t ease Will’s frustration any. He and Karl had agreed that after this murder they needed to take some time off. Maybe a couple of years. Find another way to amuse themselves. If they did that, any links someone might perceive would go up in smoke.

  He settled back in his chair, puffing on his cigar, staring at the red blinking dot on his map. It came and went, but he was fairly certain that was because the wimp was huddling under a survival blanket, hiding from the rain. Each time the dot returned, it assured him that Jeff hadn’t moved.

  But damn it, Jeff, he thought. The rain would make a perfect cover to just get the job done. No one would hear a thing. It was likely any evidence would just wash away if the downpour was as heavy as Jeff had said.

  He was also fairly certain that Jeff wouldn’t leave another shell casing behind. So, use the high power rifle and take out the rangers and get out of the rain.

  Sometimes Jeff didn’t think too well.

  Hell, maybe most of the time.

  Will set the tablet aside and sat smoking his cigar with one hand and drumming his fingers with the other. He needed a way to motivate Jeff. Soon. This couldn’t continue as long as there was a whisper of a chance that that ranger might remember him somehow, especially if his name came up. If the cops had found some kind of evidence.

  Will sat forward suddenly, unpleasant feelings running down his spine. If Jeff had left behind a shell casing, maybe he’d left even more behind. He clearly hadn’t been cautious enough.

  Well, of course not. The wimp had been afraid. He’d scurried away leaving that casing behind and who knew what else. One of his cigarette butts? God knew how the police might be able to use something like that.

  He picked up the sat phone and called Jeff. “Still raining?” he asked. He hoped so.

  God, maybe he should just go out there, kill Jeff himself, then take out the ranger to be extra careful. Yeah, somehow make Jeff nearly impossible to identify because he could be linked to Karl and Will.

  Hell! He was beginning to think more like a movie or television show. What was he going to do? Murder Jeff, cut off his fingers and face, then murder a ranger so she wouldn’t suddenly remember Jeff’s name?

  No, Jeff was supposed to kill the ranger, tie up the last important loose end, and it was the least he could do considering he’d left that damn shell casing behind. First rule in this game: leave nothing behind. Nothing.

  Jeff answered, his voice shaking.

  “Why are you shaking?” Will demanded.

  “Cold,” came the abbreviated answer.

  “Man up,” Will said shortly. “Take advantage of the rain and just take the woman out. Then you can get inside again and warm your delicate toesies.”

  “Shut up,” Jeff said. It sounded as if he’d gritted the words out between his teeth.

  “I will not shut up. I might, however, come out there and kill you myself to close this out.”

  Complete silence answered him. Then, suddenly, he clearly heard the sound of rain beating on the survival blanket for just a few seconds before the line went empty. He glanced at the tablet and saw that Jeff had disappeared again. The son of a gun had cut him off. Probably deliberately.

  But no, a few seconds later he heard Jeff’s voice again and saw the dot reappear on the map.

  “I’ll get her tomorrow,” he said. “And you know what, Will?”

  God it was almost impossible to understand Jeff with his voice shaking like that. “What?”

  “She saw me, all right. I don’t think she recognized my face but she might have. Anyway, she knows we went up there five days before I killed that guy, and at some point she’s going to put that together.”

  Will felt stunned. Ice water trickled down his spine. “You lie.”

  “No, I lied the first time. I don’t trust you, and I didn’t want to kill her, and now that’s exactly where I am because you and Karl are goddamn psychopaths who don’t give a flying fig about anyone else on this planet. I have half a mind to come to the lodge and kill the two of you for getting me into this.”

  “You don’t have the stones.”

  “Are you sure of that? But to cover my own butt I have to make sure that woman can’t put me together with this mess. That’s all on you, jerk. All of it. When this is done, I want nothing to do with the two of you ever again. Buy out my share of the lodge, then stay out of my life.”

  Yeah, like they’d pay him a dime. But now was not the time to get into that, or even think about it.

  “Has it occurred to you,” Jeff asked, his voice quavering, “that she may have recognized me, but she also saw the two of you?”

  “All the more reason to erase her,” Will said sharply.

  “No, you’re not getting it, you ass. If I turn up dead, she may remember you two and give your descriptions.”

  That silenced Will. For once he hadn’t thought of something.

  “And if you think killing me will save you, think again. I turn up dead, everyone knows we’re friends... Nah, you’ll be under the microscope.”

  Dang, thought Will, maybe the guy had some stones after all.

  Several seconds passed before he spoke again. “Then you’d better take her out and tie off the loose end. We told you that you could be our next target, and we’re not stupid. We can make it look like an accident.” Will felt his own bravado covering his sudden uncertainty.

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Just do it, Jeff.”

  “I will, damn it. But just leave me alone. I’m not sitting out here in this miserable rain and cold because I enjoy it.”

  Then he disconnected, leaving Will to listen to the static of a disturbed signal.

  After a minute or two, Will put down the phone and picked up his tablet. Jeff was still there. Will looked across the room to the gun rack, which held seven rifles, some good for hunting, but a couple for much longer-range shooting. Damn near sniper rifles.
His dad and Karl’s had often liked to practice target shooting over a thousand yards.

  Jeff had one of those rifles with him right now. He didn’t even have to get close to the woman.

  But Will thought about going out there and using one of them on Jeff. He studied the map on his tablet, bringing up the terrain. No roads nearby. He’d have to hike through the night, a dangerous thing to do even without a storm.

  Hell! He almost hurled the tablet in frustration. If Jeff didn’t take that damn woman out by tomorrow night, he and Karl were going to have to do something about Jeff.

  No escaping it. Especially since Jeff had pointed out that she’d seen all three of them. They’d have to get rid of him in a way that wouldn’t jog her memory so they could stay clear of her.

  Or they’d have to kill them both along with that nosy federal ranger.

  Either way, if Jeff failed, they’d have to mop up. They should have gotten rid of him as soon as they learned he’d figured out what they were doing. Honoring an old friendship this way had proved to be the biggest headache they’d had so far.

  He was coming to hate Jeff.

  * * *

  THE WIND HAD picked up considerably and was blowing rain so hard against the window glass that it sounded like small pebbles.

  “Will the horses be okay?” Blaire asked.

  “Yeah,” Gus said. “They know how to hunker together and they’ve got pretty thick hides. If they didn’t there wouldn’t be any horses.”

  “I guess you’re right. I know I wouldn’t want to be out there in this.”

  “Not if I can avoid it,” he agreed.

  She rubbed her arms as they sat on the couch separated by a couple of feet. “This place doesn’t usually feel drafty.” She paused. “Let me take that back. It can in the winter because of the temperature differential between the glass and the log walls. That’s when I put up the shutters. No shutters tonight.”

  She had already pulled on a cardigan, but now she rose and went to sit on the rug in front of the fire. Closer to the heat and warmth.

  “Is that a wood box over there?” Gus asked.

  She twisted and followed his pointing finger. “Yes, it is. I think it’s full. I should have mentioned it rather than you going outside to get wood.”

  “I think by the time I got to the door you were in the kitchen starting soup. It’s okay.” Rising, he went to the box, lifted the long seat pillow off it and looked inside. “I certainly won’t have to go out for more wood tonight.”

  She pulled her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around them. “This fire feels so good. But there went all hope of finding any evidence out there. This rain is heavy enough to wash it all away. And the wind will probably knock down the tent and the crime scene tape. Of course, that’ll make the area fresh and clean again.”

  “There are advantages.” He joined her on the floor, sitting cross-legged. “There had to be some place he was hanging out to observe from. I doubt the rain will wash that away. And if we find it, we might find something useful.”

  She glanced at him. “So you still want to go on the hunt tomorrow?”

  “If this weather improves. But absolutely. If you’re like me, you want to feel like you’re actually accomplishing something, not sitting on your hands. I mean, I’d settle back if the police had the guy.”

  “So would I. But until then...” She turned her attention back to the fire. “I can’t stop hearing that little boy cry. It makes me so mad. Furious. Someone needs to pay.”

  “Yeah. I’m with you.”

  Watching the flames leap, she thought about what she’d just revealed to him and herself. It was about the boy, she admitted. As much as anything, she wanted that boy to grow up with the satisfaction of knowing his father’s killer had been caught and sent to prison. Yeah, she was worried he might still be hanging around, and she couldn’t blame Gus for being concerned about her safety. Every night, with the campers all gone, she was out here all alone. It wasn’t as if she never needed to emerge from this cabin during the hours when her staff weren’t here.

  Nope. And if this guy was in it just for the thrill, she’d make a great target. Maybe he even thought she might have found some evidence. After all, she’d been the first person to approach the tent.

  “Oh, heck,” she said in a burst of frustration. She reclined on the rug, staring up at the dancing shadows on the ceiling. “I hate feeling like everything is messed up and I can’t do anything to sort it out. Things were a lot clearer in the Army.”

  “Some things were,” he agreed. “But that kind of thinking is what makes it so hard to adjust to the return to civilian life.”

  “I’m sure. I’ve been guilty of it more than once.” She rolled on her side and propped her chin in her hand. “I don’t remember my life before the Army being so messy, but maybe that’s not true. No way to tell now. And I’m probably misremembering a lot of things from my military days. Nothing is all that clear-cut.”

  “Except lines of authority, and even those can get muddy.”

  He unfolded his legs and stretched out beside her, also propping his chin in his hand. “What I’m trying to think about now is how I’m in a warm cabin with a full belly and a good friend instead of stuck in a frigid cave hoping the paraffin flame will actually make the instant coffee hot.”

  “Good thoughts,” she said after a moment. Then a heavy sigh escaped her. “This is a form of PTSD, isn’t it?”

  “What is?”

  She closed her eyes a moment. “I need to face it. A gun report. A man shot in the head, in vivid Technicolor for me, a crying kid and now I’ve been paranoid since it happened. The paranoia isn’t based in any evidence, merely in my past experience.”

  She opened her eyes and found him staring at her, appearing concerned, his eyes as gray as the storm outside. He spoke. “Then we’re both having PTSD. I feel the paranoia. You might be right. It might be a leftover reaction. But what if it isn’t? I’m not prepared to stake everything on dismissing this. It’s not like I was walking down a street and heard a backfire. This is a whole different level.”

  He had a point, but she hated not being able to trust her own judgment. “It’s awful,” she said frankly. “Not being able to trust myself. It’s a new thing.”

  “You didn’t feel this way in Afghanistan?”

  “Not often. That’s what I meant about everything being so clear. There were bad guys, there were good guys, and if there was any doubt, it didn’t last long. But this is different. I’m worrying about the stupidest possible thing. That a killer, who has most likely already moved on so he won’t be found, might be stalking me. I have absolutely no evidence for that. It’s just a feeling. A phantasm.”

  He reached out to grip her shoulder firmly but gently. “Given how many times a feeling has saved my life, I’m not going to dismiss this one, and neither should you. When the guy is locked up, then we can kick our own butts for our reactions. But on the off chance...” He didn’t complete the sentence. He just gave her shoulder a squeeze, then let go.

  “We’re hot messes, Gus,” she remarked after a few minutes.

  “Sometimes. Not always. We’re luckier than a lot of people. Holding steady jobs. Having friends.”

  “One real friend,” she said honestly.

  He shook his head a little but let it pass. She figured he didn’t see any point arguing with the plain truth. She knew a lot of people, but as for counting friends of the kind she could truly share her mind and heart with, Gus was it. He’d been there. He understood. Considering she wasn’t a hop away from a support group, Gus was priceless in that regard.

  But it was more than his understanding. Gus had been there any time she needed someone. Like now. Running around with this paranoid fear clawing at her, he’d been right beside her, his mere presence making her feel safer.

  “Thanks for
being you,” she said quietly. “Your friendship means the world.”

  His expression softened from concern. “I could say the same to you. Two slightly bent vets who’ve spent the last two years sharing things we couldn’t share with most people. Then we’re pretty much on our own in separate parks, tied up too much to go seeking the company of other vets. There’s a support group in town, but how often could we get there? Honestly.”

  “Not frequently,” she admitted. Her days off were generally jam-packed with things she needed to do, and come winter there was often no getting out of here at all. But Gus always managed to find his way over here on Scrappy.

  She shifted her position so she could look at the fire again. Staring at him was awakening feelings in her that had absolutely nothing to do with paranoia. She was afraid she might simply leap into his arms.

  No time for this, she warned herself. Not now. No way did she want to do something that would make him feel it was necessary to get out of here. He’d never evinced any sexual interest in her that she could be sure of, and she’d been careful to avoid the same.

  Sometimes it seemed as if their shared experience was a wall between them. Maybe it was. Who knew what might happen if they knocked down that wall and moved past friendship.

  “You ever dated much?” he suddenly asked, surprising her.

  She turned to see him. “Yeah. A bit.”

  “Never found the right one?”

  Forgetting her concerns for a moment, she smiled. “Apparently not. You?”

  “I got really serious once. It turned out to be a big mistake. When I left town, she found someone else to fill in until I returned.”

  “Ouch!” She winced. “I don’t know that I ever had that going on. Of course, I never got serious. Nobody inspired that in me.”

  “A tough nut, huh?” But his eyes danced a little.

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just too damn picky.”

  “Picky is a good thing to be.”

  Taking her by surprise, he rolled onto his back, then drew her toward him until her head rested on his shoulder and his arm wrapped her back.