Christine

The door closed behind Travis and still I sat, without moving. He’d run out without telling me anything, with only a vague promise of talking later. That left me feeling a little unsettled and out of sorts. What was wrong with me? I barely knew him and I had managed to come on to him, and have sex with him three times. Now I’m feeling sorry for myself because he hadn’t made any promises.

“I’m a freaking psych case,” I told the empty chair across the table.

Sissy popped her head through the kitchen doors. “Christine, that pipe under the main sink just blew out.”

Of course it did, because the day isn’t already going bad enough. “I’ll call Parsen’s Plumbing,” I called out with a sigh.

“I already did. Glenn’s out on a call, not expected back until after five.”

“Of course he is,” I muttered

* * *

“I’ve told you a lot about me. Tell me what you do for fun,” I suggested.

“Well, Angel, I like fixing things.”

“Things like…?”

“Cars, houses.”

“Okay, the cars I get. But houses? Whole houses?”

“A few of the guys and I got together and bought a house. We lived there during our off-time and fixed it up. Then we flipped it and sold it for twice what we paid.”

“So you flip houses?”

He chuckled. “Not so much these days. But we still get together and help out on some of the community projects.”

“And what part of the fixing up do you do?”

“You name it, I’ve done it. A little carpentry, a little electrical.”

“And plumbing?”

“It just so happens plumbing is one of my specialties.”

* * *

Lying flat on my back beneath the sink, I applied the wrench to the slip nut on the blown trap, twisting the handle with a grunt. Nothing happened. I was getting nowhere.

I dropped my arm to allow circulation to return. “Sure could have used you here, Mick.”

“Did you say something?” asked Sissy.

“Just talking to a ghost.” I lifted the wrench again.

* * *

Travis

For the second time that day, my Corvette hit the tiny parking lot of the Pine Haven Sheriff’s Department, spewing gravel from beneath wide tires. DC’s brown patrol car pulled in from the opposite direction, before my dust had settled.

DC exited the cruiser, a clipboard in his hand and a warning on his lips. “Some folks around here would just love it if I had to give you a ticket for reckless driving in your fancy little sports car.”

I ignored the sheriff, rounding his car with angry strides. “Bull MacKay went after Christine.”

“Okay, slow down. I know he tried to start something at her place but I thought it was you in his sights.”

“He was knocking on her door late last night.” Anger added an edge to my voice. “Probably less than ten minutes after I dropped her off. Would’ve been fairly close to ten-thirty or eleven.” Nearly choking on the words, he filled DC in on the events as Christine had related them earlier.

The sheriff swept a look of speculation over me. “You and Christine Willow, huh? I thought I picked something up back at Valentine’s. You two sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Are you getting at something, DC?” I inserted a chill into my words. “Because I’d sure like you to get around to it if you are.”

A pained expression crossed my old friend’s face. Sighing, he leaned against the back of his patrol car, folding his arms over his chest. But the tapping of the clipboard against one hip belied the relaxation behind the move. “You know, Trav, no one ever expected you to come back to Pine Haven. Now you’re here, about fifty percent of folks don’t think you’ll hang around, and forty-nine percent are afraid you will.”

“Where do you stand?” I asked softly.

“I’m the one percent willing to wait and see how things go,” DC replied with a snort. “Thing is, you and Christine hooking up, well, that’s going to upset the balance a bit. Town’s still pretty well divided about her, too. Used to be no one wanted her here at all. But she’s proven herself part of this place by bits and pieces, and things are balancing out. Now she’s the darlin’ of most of the men here…” He cocked his head to the side, a smile twisting half of his mouth upward. “’ Ceptin’ Brother Bobby, of course. The teenage boys follow her like bees to clover. The teenage girls all want to be her, and most of the women wish their men would stay home with them on a Friday night. But they’ve come to trust Christine doesn’t have designs in that direction.” He paused for a beat, pinning Travis in his stare. “Add a black sheep into the mix, things are gonna get complicated.”

I pulled my mouth into a smile to match his sarcastic response. “Is this the part where you warn me to leave the saloonkeeper alone or get out of town?”

DC’s sharp laugh echoed off the front of the building. “As if I had that power.” He leaned back onto his elbows and drew a deep breath. “Seriously, Trav, you had to know you’d be watching your back when you came home.”

I studied the sheriff for a long, silent moment. Had their friendship suffered so badly in the years of his exile? I supposed that had been inevitable. Was DC giving me a subtle, politically correct, warning about life in Pine Haven?

The poker face staring back gave me nothing to go on. When he spoke, his impassive tone matched his expression. “I don’t guess you plan to stop seeing her?”

That answer required no thought. “Snowball’s chance in hell.”

DC nodded. “Thought you’d say that. Then watch out for her. Don’t go looking for Bull. In fact, stay out of his way as much as you can. Just take care of your woman and… enjoy being together.” The sheriff stood, began heading for the office and stopped. Glancing over his shoulder, with a thoughtful frown, “What was it you wanted to show me?”

“Did Grant talk to you about the cattle on our open range?”

“He did. That why you’re back?”

I parked my hat further back on my head. “It’s one reason.”

“The state police took over the investigation,” DC said with a nod. “Your brother should have the contact information.”

“Such an attack could be considered personal.” I kept my voice even, against the rage that boiled just under the surface.

“You know, I’d agree with you but you weren’t here at the time. And things have been pretty easy between your family and Mac’s these days.” Shaking his head, the sheriff shrugged. “The state police are looking real hard at a coal mining company out of West Virginia. There’s been some interest in purchasing land along the Green River vein.”

“Why would anyone do that? Green River’s old news. It’s unreachable.”

DC scratched his jaw. “It was unreachable. Technology gets developed all the time, and the energy crunch rich veins of coal, like that, are gonna get a second, even a third look-see.”

“Someone’s been up at the cabin since my brother brought his cattle off the mountain,” I said. My gut told me the threat was local, but how to convince the sheriff? “Fairly recently. It’s clean. Too clean for a two-month stretch. The grass outside’s been trampled a fair bit.”

DC shrugged again. “Hikers. Rangers, maybe.”

“And they what? Got a sudden urge to clean? You could eat off the floor once you got past the smell of pine cleaner and bleach.”

“I can pass the information on,” said DC coolly. “But on the surface it just doesn’t sound like it means anything.” He started walking again.

“Another cow was shot up there,” I said quietly. DC stopped, his hand on the door to the office, but he didn’t turn around.

“When?”

“Found her yesterday. She was alive but down. I had to finish her off. Flank shot, within a day, maybe day and a half of me finding her. She had a calf and probably took care of her as long as she could.” I pulled the piece of ruined shirt from his pocket and unfolded it, revealing the recovered slug. “Dug this out of her.”

DC eyed the object in my hand with obvious frustration. “Flat point .44 Magnum. This is consistent with findings in the state police investigation.” With a sigh, he held the door open for me. “You’d best come inside and make a statement.”

I tried to lose the scowl as I followed the sheriff inside. As successes went, it wasn’t much of a bone, but I’d take whatever scraps I could get.

“Hey, Stella,” DC said, letting the door to the office close after they entered. He dropped the clipboard on her desk. “Got an arson report to be typed up here.” He lowered his voice but the room was small, and I had no trouble making out his next words. “There’s no positive ID, but Henky swears one of the boys running away had red hair.”

Stella Jinks was a plump woman, with a roadmap of wrinkles on her face. Her shoulder-length hair had once been strawberry blond, but was now heading strongly toward white. At DC’s words, she wilted in her chair and her face took on even more wrinkles with her frown of apprehension.

“Now, there’s no evidence as yet. I’m telling you so someone can get control over the boy before he gets hurt, or hurts someone else.” DC’s tone was stern, but his eyes reflected concern. “If I get another report that sounds like him, I’m going to have to start looking at him real hard.”

“I understand, DC,” Stella answered in a defeated tone. “I’m not askin’ for a break. I’m just worried about Wanda. I don’t think she knows what to do with the boy. Sometimes I think she wishes—” She broke off as she caught sight of me.

Removing my hat, I nodded a greeting.

“Hello, Travis. I heard you were back in town for a spell.”

I smiled and met her stare head-on. It didn’t take a genius to realize Mrs. Stella Jinks was among the forty-nine percent crowd, the folks afraid I wasn’t leaving.

DC took my statement and logged the spent round into evidence. “I know it’s frustrating, not getting answers, Trav.”

Fatigue was creeping up. I rubbed my forehead. “Kinda feels like I keep stepping in it these days. And all I wanted was to come home.”

Finally, DC gifted him with an understanding nod. “You know, if you really plan to stay, a good way to start out might be to put those skills of yours to work with the PHVFD. They can always use an extra hand, ’specially if that hand’s got experience.”

I stiffened at the mention of the Pine Haven Volunteer Fire Department, but then drew a deep breath and slowly expelled it and gave a nod. “I expect you’re right. I’ll look into it.”

“It is good to have you back,” DC said quietly.

On his way out, I caught sight of a grouping of women’s pictures on the bulletin board, all under the heading MISSING. One in particular drew my attention, a black and white picture of a woman with dark wavy hair and pale eyes. Her hair was piled loosely on top of her head with stray tendrils escaping. Large hoops dangled from her ears.

I spun on my heel. “What’s this?”

Looking up from his desk, DC grunted. “Ongoing FBI case. Some women gone missing from up around Jackson in the past couple years.”

I read the specifics listed beneath the photo. Waitress in a small diner in Jackson, lived alone, no current boyfriend. Missing since the middle of May.

“You ever notice how much this one—” I bent and checked the name. “—Frances Henry, looks like Christine?”

DC frowned. “Now you mention it, I do recall thinking something along those lines when those came in.”

I tapped my fingertips against the picture. On closer inspection, the resemblance to Christine wasn’t as apparent. Frances Henry’s lips were less full, her face slimmer, her smile more forced, nose too angular, and her eyes too widely spaced. Pretty, though. I wondered what had happened to her.

Tipping my hat to Mrs. Jinks again, I moved for the door. The late afternoon sun was hot when I stepped outside. But I couldn’t shake the chill at the thought of working with the Pine Haven Volunteer Fire Department. It wouldn’t be the same, a voice inside reminded me. My old hometown wasn’t a big urban environment filled with skyscrapers.