A Secret in Conard County Read online

Page 2


  “Conard City,” Lance interjected helpfully.

  “Conard City,” Erin repeated with a slight nod to him. “And if you’re worried about it, you can check him out. Deputy Conroe.”

  “Lance Conroe, Conard County Sheriff’s Office.”

  “Did you catch that, Fran? Okay. I’m fine, just tired.”

  Another long silence, then Erin spoke impatiently. “Why would I want to do that? I’ve got the whole kit and caboodle, all the wounds and scars, an ex who pesters me, a killer who got away, a body taking forever to heal and nightmares that won’t quit. What more do I need? Another man? No, I will not call Tom, and I won’t be returning his calls. I need this break.”

  Whoa, thought Lance, that was an entire mess in one succinct passage. He felt a bit of sympathy for her as he heard her wind up the call and put her phone away.

  “Sorry,” she said. “You didn’t need to hear that.”

  “Too much information?” he asked lightly. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not okay. I sounded whiny.”

  “You sounded fed up. Big difference.”

  She stirred at last, turning slowly in her seat, her cautious movements betraying her. Something still hurt, something was still healing and moving wasn’t her favorite activity. At once his mind slipped into another gear. He’d planned to leave her at the La-Z-Rest Motel, which for all it was decrepit was at least clean, but right across the state highway was a truck stop. No silence, even at night.

  “You’re a nice man, Deputy,” she said.

  “Lance. Not doing anything special.”

  “I beg to differ.” She fell silent for a few seconds. “I saw signs for a big resort on my way here. Is it open?”

  “Not yet.” Biggest joke around. Finally they were pulling everything together for the long-promised resort and it all had come to a huge halt last spring because of a landslide. It was as if the Fates conspired against the town. Not that everyone wanted the place, but it would have offered some jobs and put a little extra cash in the local economy. “All we have to offer these days is a fleabag motel across the highway from a truck stop.”

  “It’ll do. I’ve slept all kinds of places.”

  He imagined she had. He wished he could put her someplace better, but the few rooming houses rented by the week or month, not by the day. And asking a family to take her in would probably be miserable for her and everyone else. He thought briefly of his aunt but knew he couldn’t make the offer without checking with Maria first. So the motel it was. She’d probably be there only one night anyway.

  “You need to eat?” he asked.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I can take you to a diner in town before I leave you at the motel. Considering you don’t seem to be moving too well, that might be better than trying to cross the highway to the truck stop.”

  Silence. For some reason he expected her to get vocally annoyed by his interference. It really was none of his business. Yet the thought of dropping her off like that seemed hardly better than having left her in her car by the roadside.

  “Knight-errant?” she asked.

  “Who, me?” That surprised a laugh out of him. “Just a cop trying to help a fellow cop. The way you’re moving, I’m not sure they should have let you out of the hospital.”

  “Apparently you don’t have much experience with insurance. Anyway, I wouldn’t have let them keep me.”

  He could well believe that. “Listen,” he said presently. “The speed limit by the motel is supposed to be thirty. Well, we get all types coming along the state highway, and some don’t read too well. The thought of you trying to cross that piece of road when some knucklehead comes barreling along at sixty...”

  “Got you,” she answered. “Thanks. The diner sounds good.”

  He reached for his radio, and called Larry who was driving just ahead of him. “Larry, change of plans. Take the lady’s car to the La-Z-Rest. Thanks.”

  The woman beside him spoke. “That’s the name of the motel?”

  “Yup.”

  “Oh, God,” she said. It was all he could do not to laugh again. Instead he just said, “Yup,” once more.

  Then she utterly astonished him by laughing quietly herself. “The La-Z-Rest,” she said. “I can hardly wait.”

  * * *

  She really had arrived at the ends of the earth, Erin thought as she eased into a booth at the nearly empty diner. Lance Conroe took a minute to let the dispatcher know where he was, then followed her inside.

  Just as he settled across from her, a Gorgon of a woman slapped menus down in front of them. “Coffee or the fancy stuff?” she asked.

  “Coffee,” Lance replied, then looked at Erin. “Latte if you want it.”

  “I’d love a latte.” She tried smiling at the Gorgon, who apparently went by the name of Maude, but after a flickering look, the woman dismissed her and walked away.

  “Nice,” she murmured.

  “Just Maude.” Lance smiled. “The food makes up for it unless you’re a vegetarian.”

  “Not a chance,” she replied, picking up the plastic-covered menu with a hand that trembled ever so slightly.

  “You’re not okay,” Lance said bluntly.

  “Just tired. Too many hours driving, too much sitting still. I shouldn’t have pushed it so far today.”

  “I thought medical leave meant resting and relaxing.”

  She bridled. “So they told you about that, huh? Blabbermouths.”

  For the first time, he sighed. “It’s written all over you. What happened?”

  She’d learned long ago not to be open about much, certainly not about her job. Not with anyone except another agent. Something in his expression made her want to dump the whole story, but she resisted. “Bad outcome to a bad confrontation.”

  He compressed his lips a bit, simply nodding, then leaned back as the coffee was slammed down in front of them. The clatter seemed pointed.

  “Give us a couple, Maude?” Lance said, looking up. “My guest hasn’t had a chance to read the menu yet.”

  “I know what you’re having,” Maude grumped, then glared at Erin as if she were a clogged drain line before stomping away.

  “What a piece of work,” Erin whispered.

  “Everyone’s used to it. And like I said, the food more than makes up for it.”

  Erin reached for the coffee first, however. She needed the caffeine in hopes that it would stave off the fatigue that seemed to be overwhelming her, at least until she reached a bed. Not only did she hurt all over, but she had begun to feel light-headed. Food would probably help that, as would the milk in the latte. She drained half of it before she even picked up the menu again.

  The words seemed to dance in front of her eyes. “Damn,” she said. “I can’t even focus. You pick for me.”

  “Carnivore?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Hungry?”

  “Famished.” She seemed to remember having eaten last night. Oh, man, this was bad. She’d been warned not to push it too hard, but had she listened? Tom’s voice came back to her, Hardheaded, stubborn, idiotic... Maybe he was right about her.

  She put her chin in her hand and closed her eyes as she listened to Lance Conroe order two steak sandwiches. Tired though she was, the sound of it made her mouth water.

  This deputy was being incredibly nice to her, she thought. Maybe it was just cop-to-cop courtesy, as he’d said, but it felt like more than that. Like he was genuinely concerned about her. More than willing to go out of his way to make sure she was looked after. Pretty special. From a friend she might expect it, but from a total stranger?

  He let her be, too, as she sat there with her eyes closed, hovering at the edge of much-needed sleep. She couldn’t believe how much her injuries ha
d taken out of her. Surely she ought to be coming back faster. Nor did it feel good to know that the man who had done this to her was still out there somewhere. Oh, he was being hunted, but after the past months, she didn’t have much faith that they’d find him. Anyone who stayed off the grid and kept moving was pretty much out of reach, even these days. Disposable cell phones, working under the table for cash, just enough to get by, skipping town every few days...yeah, you could hide forever until you slipped up. Her personal Moriarty didn’t slip up often.

  Their meals arrived with a pointed clatter and slam. Erin jumped, her eyes popping open, her hand instinctively sliding beneath her jacket again.

  “Easy,” said Lance Conroe. “That was the local version of the dinner bell.”

  Despite the surge of adrenaline that had just coursed through her, she had to smile faintly. The local dinner bell? Cute. But the adrenaline proved salutary, and she felt wide-awake. It wouldn’t last, but it might get her through a meal.

  In front of her sat a huge sandwich on thick slabs of bread with steak poking out all around. Juice ran from it onto her plate, sneaking up on the French fries. The aromas were heavenly, causing her mouth to water, and fatigue seemed to slip away as she reached for half the sandwich.

  Lance let her eat without interruption as he ate his own sandwich. Her eyes wandered out the window, watching people strolling by, noting the age of the town with hints of the Wild West and hints of the Victorian and hints of the twenties and thirties. A mix that managed to be charming.

  “Small town,” she half asked.

  “Five thousand in town, another four thousand or so scattered all over the county. There are smaller towns in Wyoming, but bigger ones, too. We’re big enough to be on the map.”

  That description brought another faint smile to her face. “But small enough for some good gossip?”

  “It fills a lot of hours,” he admitted.

  “It won’t cause you any trouble to be seen having a meal here with a strange woman?”

  He shrugged. “What are they going to say? This couldn’t be any more public.”

  “True.”

  “And it’s not as if I’m married.”

  Her smile widened a shade as the calories began to hit her system. “Well, that takes all the juice out of the gossip.”

  “Maybe. Or it could rev it up.” He shrugged again and took another bite of his sandwich. “So, do you have any idea where you’re going?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I just wanted to get away from Chicago, and figured I could wander through the West, take in the sights. What I didn’t count on was the pull of the mountains. I wanted to reach them, once I started seeing them, and...I drove too long today.”

  “Well, you’ve reached them now. Hang around a few days and I’ll be glad to take you for a drive to some really spectacular views.”

  Quite a nice offer, but it made her feel uneasy. Was she leaving one mess behind, however temporarily, to make another one? She didn’t want to. Instead of answering, she looked out the window again and noticed how flattened everything looked. Apparently the sun had slipped behind the mountains, and while the sky remained bright overhead, the shadows that added dimension were gone. Curious. She liked it. It seemed to suit her rather unpleasant mood.

  But then, weary or not, she realized she was being rude to a man who was only trying to help her out. He didn’t deserve it, and while he might put it down to her being unwell, it still wasn’t right.

  She turned to him again. “It’s a pretty little town,” she offered.

  “A bit worn about the edges. When the resort was getting ready to open, they started sprucing us up a bit. New sidewalks, new streetlights, maybe some paint...but it hardly got started before the landslide shut them down.”

  She managed another bite of the sandwich, knowing she needed the energy. “Are they going to try again?”

  “I don’t know. They were almost ready to open, but there was a lot of destruction. Nobody knows if they’ll write it off now. Thing is, one of their people lives in town now. He said that landslide was a freak of some bad weather. The company hired him on again to recheck the geology up there. That landslide may have been a onetime thing, and if so...” He shrugged.

  “So everything’s on hold.”

  “It’s been on hold more years than I can count. We’ve had at least five companies interested. This last one came closer than anyone has. They even finished building a new runway to handle more air traffic.” He shrugged. “Still, who can say when a project becomes more trouble than it’s worth?”

  “Not being in the business, I couldn’t venture a guess.”

  He nodded and pushed his plate aside. His sandwich was gone and he’d ignored the fries. Erin took another bite of hers, finally feeling the restorative effects of the food. “If you’re in a hurry,” she said tentatively.

  That drew a broad smile from him. “We’re rarely in a hurry around here. Oh, we get our share of problems, everything from toxic dumping to a serial killer, but it’s not constant. Small-town policing is pretty laid-back usually.”

  “You like it?”

  “After ten years in Denver, I love it.”

  “Did you grow up here?”

  “I sure did. My dad was a schoolteacher.”

  “So you still have family here?”

  “My aunt Maria, bless her heart.” He leaned back as his coffee cup was refilled by the inimitable Maude, who then glared at Erin to ask, “Another latte?”

  “Please.”

  The woman stomped off.

  Erin pushed her own plate aside. “I guess I’m going to need a doggie bag.”

  Lance leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “No problem. You know what you said about a bad confrontation with a bad guy?”

  She stiffened, barely nodding.

  “I had something similar happen to me. Hence the small-town policing. Some things you never want to experience twice.”

  Wow, she thought. Instantly she liked him even more. He’d walked in her shoes and there was probably very little she had to tell him, because he understood.

  Except maybe he didn’t understand this running part. Well, it wasn’t exactly running. She wasn’t fit for duty yet, and the Bureau had wanted to put her in protection. Instead she’d chosen to clear out for a while, since the bad guy was still on the loose. No, not exactly running, she assured herself. Merely taking a wise evasive maneuver.

  The fresh latte arrived along with a foam box for her leftovers. Apart from being a Gorgon, Maude seemed to read minds. Not a word passed, not a query about whether she wanted to take that half sandwich with her. Of course, maybe it never occurred to the woman that anyone would leave her cooking behind.

  “You’re looking tired again,” Lance said suddenly. “Let’s go. I’ll help you move into the motel and get you registered.”

  “I need to pay.”

  “I run a tab with Maude, so forget it. As for the motel, no payment required until you leave.”

  Erin felt her brows rise. “That’s a great way to get ripped off.”

  He smiled again. “It would be if they let everyone do that. FBI? I think they’ll give you the same courtesy they’d give me.”

  She was beginning to feel as if she’d gone down the rabbit hole to a very different universe.

  Chapter 2

  Erin awoke early in the morning, and for a blessed few minutes nothing hurt. The TV ran quietly, creating background noise to mask the engine roars from the truck stop. The half-finished latte stood on the nightstand. The clock told her she’d slept fourteen hours. Fourteen. And without a pain pill.

  She didn’t want to move. As soon as she stirred, the pain would return, at least some of it. She needed to get on the road again. The guy who’d nearly killed her was off th
e grid, and she had to stay off it, too, as much as possible. Keep moving, use cash wherever possible and wait for the phone call to tell her he was caught, or until she felt well enough to resume duty. She’d chosen this over protective custody, and every single day asked herself why. But she knew why. She felt safer in the middle of nowhere, and she knew she couldn’t stand being in protection, virtually locked up in a safe house under constant guard.

  They were sure he still wanted to get her. After all, he’d apparently come for her after someone had leaked her identity and that she was getting close to finding him. A serial bomber. Great thing to have on her tail. A great reason not to feel safe in a safe house, even if cabin fever wouldn’t have driven her crazy.

  She should get up and get going again. No matter how much it hurt. But she could see no harm whatsoever in enjoying these few minutes of peace, where no threat hovered, where no pain touched her.

  She’d left the lights on, and she dared to turn her head a little. For a supposed fleabag, the La-Z-Rest wasn’t that bad. The decor was badly outdated Western, the kind that shrieked cheap and old, but everything she’d used so far had been spotlessly clean. It would never get five stars, or even two, but all she cared was that it was clean.

  Finally, the time to move had come. Her damaged body began to ache again, to throb in a few places. Sleep was losing its grip on her brain.

  Sighing, moving slowly, she sat up and swung her feet to the floor. No carpeting, just linoleum that had been scrubbed almost bare of its pattern. Somehow that was reassuring. Next, a hot shower, as hot as she could stand. That would loosen her up for dressing.

  Then she had to decide. Move on again? Or stay put for a few days? Staying put and walking the streets of this town lost in time seemed amazingly appealing after all the driving. And walking would help keep her loosened up, keep the pain from reaching shrieking intensity as it did if she held still for too long. The way it probably would when she stood up after such a lengthy sleep.

  Agony struck her the minute she rose. It froze her in place while she sucked air from the shock of it, then it eased enough for her to move. It would get better. The docs had promised. It was just that she had suffered so much injury.

 
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