Lock, Stock and McCullen (The Heroes of Horseshoe Creek Book 1) Page 3

  “What kind of business?”

  “He worked...works for an energy company.”

  “Did he mention the name of it?”

  Rose rubbed at her temple just as he’d seen her do at her house. Obviously a nervous gesture. As she pushed her hair back, he noticed a scar at her hairline, a jagged one that disappeared into the hair on the crown of her head.

  It looked as if it ran deep and went across her skull. He wondered what had happened.

  “I don’t think he ever said the name of it. Or if he did, I forgot.”

  Because she’d been snowed by his charm.

  “Did he mention anyone he worked with? Business clients or friends?”

  Rose chewed her bottom lip for a minute. “No. Wait...I heard him talking to someone named Carl once.”

  “Do you remember his last name?”

  She shook her head. “He just said he’d fax him the information he needed. But I didn’t hear what the conversation was about.”

  Had he been vague because he was hiding something?

  “Do you have one of Thad’s business cards?”

  “I might have one at the house.”

  “Good. When we go back, get it for me.”

  Cacti and scrub brush dotted the land as he left the small town and drove through the countryside. Winter had set in, the ground dry and barren-looking.

  “How long did you date?”

  “About six months.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Obviously he had no intention of ever marrying me. He...was probably lying to me the entire time. But why would he kill me over a photo or think I was that girl?”

  “Good question.” Maddox grimaced. This guy had targeted Rose. “The fact that he was talking to someone on the phone about you means he was either working for this other person or he had an accomplice.”

  Rose turned to look out the window, her face drawn as if she was lost in the horror of the evening.

  “What about his family? You said earlier that you were eloping.”

  Rose nodded. “He said he lost his parents a few years ago, but he’d inherited family money.”

  Could have been more lies. Hell, Thoreau might not even be his real name. “What about yours?”

  “My parents...well, we haven’t spoken in a while.” She lapsed into a sullen silence. Obviously the subject was painful for her and she didn’t want to elaborate.

  He wouldn’t probe for now. Not unless he discovered her family had something to do with Thoreau.

  But if Thoreau was dead...hell, he’d have to dig into every aspect of her life. Because Rose would need a defense.

  If the flyer of that picture on the milk carton was there as she said, that would be a place to start.

  * * *

  ROSE WANTED NOTHING more than to forget what had happened earlier this evening. But she had to find out if Thad was dead.

  Fear clenched her stomach at the thought that she’d killed a man, even if it was in self-defense. But she’d never been the kind of woman to run from a problem and live in naive bliss.

  Just as she’d faced the fact that her parents hadn’t wanted her, that she’d been a mistake. Well, they had taken care of her, but there had always been an awkwardness between them, a distance, as if the woman and man, Ramona and Syd, didn’t want to get too close.

  As if they couldn’t really love her.

  She’d been a difficult child, they’d said. Sullen, angry, withdrawn at times...

  A crooked tree with several broken branches caught her eye, and recognition dawned. She remembered the tree because it had made her think of herself. She’d felt broken and alone so many times.

  “Down that road,” she said, her voice rough with emotion.

  Maddox swung the car onto the side road. “You’re sure?”

  She nodded and rubbed at her arms as a chill swept over her. “When Thad veered onto the road, I remember wondering if he’d made a wrong turn. It looked like we were going nowhere. But he promised me a night I’d never forget.” A sarcastic laugh rumbled from her. “That’s certainly true.”

  Maddox didn’t comment. He didn’t need to.

  Winning her trust had been part of Thad’s charm. He’d intentionally driven off the grid, far away from other houses and people so no one would hear her scream for help when he killed her.

  The barren land and ridges of the nearby mountain range sent another chill through her. If he’d succeeded, he would have dumped her body in a ravine or thrown her over a cliff and left her for the animals to ravage.

  And no one would have looked for her or even realized she was dead.

  * * *

  MADDOX HOPED TO HELL Rose was telling him the truth. The whole truth and not a fabricated version she’d invented to cover some dark secret.

  The idea of locking her in a cell held no appeal. But he was a man of the law and he’d do whatever necessary to see that justice was served.

  He made a quick call to his deputy, Roan Whitefeather, and asked him to make the rounds in the town because he was busy, but he didn’t explain. He’d check things out himself first.

  The car bounced over the ruts in the dirt road, desolate land passing, the sliver of moonlight barely illuminating the trees and landscape. An animal darted into the wooded area to the left, and Rose pointed to a narrow side road.

  “There. The cabin is that way.”

  Night noises surrounded them, the deserted area eerie with the sound of a coyote howling, a reminder that the state was on an alert for coyotes with rabies. And that it was the perfect place to dispose of a body.

  But what motive did Thoreau have? And who else wanted to find Rose?

  “The cabin is in that hollow by the creek,” Rose said.

  Maddox’s instincts went on alert as he scanned the area for a car or another person waiting to ambush them.

  But there was no car and he didn’t see movement. Not even a light on in the cabin nestled in the copse of pines.

  “Did you turn the lights off when you left?” Maddox asked.

  Rose tensed, straightening to examine the graveled drive as they approached. “No, I was in a hurry, running to get away.”

  Senses alert, Maddox slowed the car and parked, his gaze fixed on the cabin and dark woods surrounding it. “Did Thoreau say how he found this place?”

  “No.” Rose rubbed at her arms again as if cold. “I didn’t ask. I...I trusted him.”

  Maddox studied the area for tire marks. With his headlights shining on the ground, he spotted one set that had made indentations into the dirt. Obviously Rose’s tire prints as she’d backed away and sped from the cabin.

  He cut the engine and his lights, that coyote still howling like it was hunting for prey, and he removed his holster and checked his Colt.

  He reached for the door handle. “Wait here and let me check out the house.”

  “What if the other man is out here?” Rose asked in a strained voice.

  “There’s no sign of a car here,” he pointed out.

  Rose touched his hand. “Let me go with you. I...don’t want to stay here alone.”

  Maddox sighed, hating the fear in her voice. But he understood it. She’d been through hell and back tonight.

  “All right, but stay behind me.”

  She nodded, and he grabbed a flashlight, climbed out and shut his door gently, his boots crunching grass and twigs as he walked around to the passenger side. She opened her door and slid out, and he gestured for her to stay close as they walked up to the porch.

  The flashlight illuminated the ground, and Maddox scanned it for evidence, also darting suspicious looks around the perimeter of the property and front of the cabin.

  “I don’t understand,” Rose whispered. “He chased me out here and collapsed at the bottom of the porch.”

  Maddox narrowed his eyes and shone the flashlight across the porch. Rose sounded so sure of what she was saying, so frightened.

  But there was no body. No blood.

  No sign of R
ose’s fiancé anywhere.

  Chapter Four

  Rose stared at the empty porch in shock. “I don’t understand. He fell...and he was bleeding.” She pointed to the bottom step, where she’d seen Thad collapse, blood oozing from his wound. “I...didn’t see him get up.”

  “But you were trying to escape?”

  “Yes.” She looked at the drive. “His sedan was under that tree.”

  “Where did you say he was hit with the bullet?”

  Rose lifted her gaze, the images of her struggle with her fiancé flashing back. “The chest...at least I thought that was where the bullet went in, but it happened so fast.”

  Maddox shined his flashlight all along the boards of the porch floor. “Either he got up on his own or someone helped him.” He kneeled and examined the slats. “I don’t see blood, either.”

  “But he was bleeding,” Rose said, confused. She started inside the house, but Maddox caught her arm.

  “Wait and let me search the place first.” His dark eyes flickered with worry. “He could be hiding, Rose, nursing his wound.”

  Maddox held his gun at the ready and gestured for her to stay back. Rose clutched her hands together, trembling as he inched inside the cabin.

  Had Thad survived?

  If he had...he might come back for her.

  * * *

  MADDOX EASED INTO the entryway, his senses alert as he glanced left and right. He strained to hear sounds from inside—footsteps, breathing—but he heard only the floor creaking and the eerie sound of a faucet dripping in the silence.

  He scanned the living area but other than a faded couch and chair, the room was empty. No signs of blood or bullet casings either.

  He crept to the adjoining kitchen and looked around. Hadn’t Rose mentioned that Thad was planning a picnic?

  There was no evidence of food or drink, or that anyone had been here. The sink was empty, even clean, and he opened the cabinets to see dishes and glasses neatly organized.

  The dripping water pinged again, and he headed toward the sound and found the leak in the tub. The scent of cleaning chemicals and bleach assaulted him.

  Had Thad cleaned up?

  He still didn’t see blood, but he’d get his kit from his car and spray with luminol. That might turn up something. Although it was possible the bullet had only grazed Thad.

  Veering to the left of the bathroom, he found the bedroom. An iron bed draped in a quilt sat against the wall with the window, while an antique dresser and full-length mirror were also in the room.

  No sign of anyone. No flyer of a missing girl on a milk carton. And no luggage...

  If Rose and Thad were traveling, where were their things? Hadn’t she brought a suitcase?

  If she’d been running for her life, she wouldn’t have stopped to get it.

  He checked the closet next but found it empty as well.

  Either Rose was confused or lying or...her fiancé had survived and escaped and cleaned up any evidence he’d ever been in the cabin.

  Another scenario surfaced though—Thad’s accomplice could have gotten rid of Thad’s body, then cleaned up to cover his own tracks.

  She had received a threatening call though. He needed to check her phone to verify that a call had actually come through. Because...he didn’t believe her?

  No, checking her phone records would be standard procedure. And if he could trace the number of the caller, it might lead to the person who wanted to kill her.

  * * *

  ROSE STARTLED AT the sound of the wind rustling leaves, and pivoted to look into the woods. A coyote’s howl unnerved her. She’d heard that coyotes had been attacking other animals, killing cats and dogs, and that they carried rabies.

  Was the animal close by?

  Questions swirled in her brain, making her head throb. Was Thad? Could he have survived that gunshot wound?

  She backed against the wall and studied the floor again, wondering how anyone could have cleaned up that blood so quickly.

  If Thad was alive, where was he?

  Maybe the caller—Thad’s partner—had been near the cabin and Thad had phoned him after she’d left.

  Footsteps pounded then, and Maddox appeared in the doorway. “The house is clear. No indication of Thad or anyone else.”

  Rose bit down on her lip. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Rose, did you bring a suitcase here?”

  Rose nodded. “Yes, and my wedding gown. I was taking a bath right before I heard Thad on the phone.”

  His eyes darkened as he studied her. “You didn’t take any of your things with you?”

  “No, I told you that I ran from the house. He knocked me down and we struggled. A lamp broke...”

  She elbowed past him and surveyed the living room. No broken lamp. Everything was in its place.

  She pointed to the small pine table. “Thad brought a picnic basket filled with goodies—cheese and crackers and fruit and wine. We were going to have a midnight picnic after my bath.”

  “There’s no food or picnic basket here,” Maddox pointed out.

  Frantic, she yanked open the drawer on the end table, then the small corner desk, searching for the flyer of the picture of the girl on the milk carton, but the drawers were empty. “He had that flyer. He was looking at it.”

  She rubbed her temple, retracing her steps. “I had a glass of wine with my bath.” She rushed over to the kitchen and searched the cabinets. There were four wineglasses, all clean and dry as if they hadn’t been used.

  She swung open the pantry door to check the garbage can, but it was empty.

  “He brought a picnic. I swear he did. He must have thrown everything out.”

  “I didn’t see a garbage bin outside, but I’ll look for one.” His footsteps pounded on the floor as he headed toward the door.

  Confused, she dashed into the bedroom. The quilt was turned up on the bed, pillows placed strategically, the curtains closed—and the room was empty. Her suitcase and the wedding dress she’d hung over the doorway were gone.

  Head spinning, she darted into the bathroom. The toiletry bag she’d set on the vanity wasn’t there now. The tub looked clean, no signs of the bubble bath she’d taken earlier.

  Even her wet towel was gone.

  She felt Maddox come up behind her, smelled his masculine scent. “I didn’t find any garbage outside.”

  “I had my things in here, too,” she said, still in shock. “I took a bubble bath and my cosmetic bag was on the vanity, and my wedding dress was hanging over the door. I could see it from the tub.”

  “You’re sure this is the right cabin?” Maddox asked.

  “Did you see another one out here?” She whirled on him, hating the doubt in his voice. Did he think she was making this up? That she was delusional?

  “I recognize the furniture, the quilt on the bed.” She searched for a way to convince him. “There’s an extra blanket in the bedroom closet, and...a Bible in the nightstand.” She raced to the nightstand, opened it and pulled the Bible out. “See. It’s here.”

  He checked the closet and noted the blanket.

  But she realized that proved nothing. Most places had extra blankets in the closet.

  “Thad was shot,” she said emphatically, determined to assure Maddox—and herself—that she wasn’t going crazy. “I saw the blood, and he fell. There’s no way he could have cleaned everything out like this.”

  “I’m going to grab my crime kit from the car,” Maddox said. “I’ll be right back.”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist, shivering as images of Thad holding that gun taunted her.

  She’d never seen such a cold look in anyone’s eyes, such a metamorphosis from charming and loving to...evil. She’d known then that he could kill her and not feel an ounce of remorse.

  She just didn’t understand the reason.

  * * *

  MADDOX GRITTED HIS TEETH. If Rose was a complete stranger, he might question if she was lying about what had h
appened tonight.

  There wasn’t a shred of visible evidence to support her story.

  Yet the fear in her eyes, the conviction in her voice, the betrayal he heard in her pained tone—none of it was fake.

  But what possible motive would anyone have to kill Rose?

  That was a question he would probe later. For now, he had to process this place and see if he could find something to corroborate Rose’s story.

  Maddox strode out to his car, opened the trunk and retrieved his crime kit. He photographed the exterior of the cabin and the driveway, focusing on the tire marks that indicated another car had been parked there at some point, then photographed the landing at the bottom of the steps where Rose indicated Thoreau had collapsed.

  Rose stood on the porch watching him as he climbed the steps. He pulled on latex gloves, and kneeled to spray luminol on the floorboards of the porch. The scent of bleach swirled around him, a sign that someone had recently cleaned.

  Which was suspicious in itself. If the place was deserted and no one had been here, why would it smell as if it had just been scrubbed?

  At first, the luminol didn’t indicate anything, but he continued to spray, visually searching each inch.

  He targeted the doorjamb and leaned closer to examine the corner. There—a small drop of blood. It had seeped into a splintered section. Whoever had scrubbed had missed it.

  He glanced up at Rose. “There is a speck of blood.”

  Her relieved sigh echoed in the air. “I told you he was bleeding.”

  “It isn’t much,” Maddox said. “But I’m going to check the rest of the house and dust for prints. Also, if he was shot, there should be a bullet casing somewhere.”

  “Thank you, Maddox.”

  He shrugged. “I’m just doing my job, Rose.” Although protecting her seemed innate to him.

  She stepped aside while he went to work. He dusted the doorways, doorknobs, table, kitchen counter and desk. Finally he found a partial on the pantry doorknob. Maybe Thad or his accomplice had left it when they’d grabbed the garbage.

  He sprayed more luminol on the floor in the doorway and found a few tiny traces the bleach hadn’t erased. Someone had definitely been hurt here.

  Which made it more suspicious that there were no fingerprints. Not even Rose’s, on the bathtub or the closet door where she claimed she’d hung her wedding gown.