Chapter Four
Jessie twisted in the booth and faced Brian. “Is that Amanda Simmons?” If so, her best friend from high school sure had changed.
Brian nearly dropped his cup on the table. “Jesus H. Christ. It sure as hell is. Wow, she looks amazing.”
Jessie laughed. The man was more fickle than any woman she’d known. She leaned back, certain Lena would drag the newcomer over any second. Sure enough, Lena turned and pointed at her. Seeing Amanda again almost erased the sadness that had saddled her all day.
Her friend strutted over, wearing a too short skirt and an obscenely low cut top. How Amanda even walked in those three-inch heels, Jessie didn’t know. A few men whistled as she passed by their tables and she waggled her fingers at them. Jessie couldn’t blame the men. Kerry wasn’t a place that attracted women, especially hot ones.
Amanda had cut her long, blonde hair really short, but on her the style looked good. Jessie had never bothered to cut her hair in a particular style, and her no-upkeep do suited her fine.
Jessie slid out of the booth, and Amanda threw her arms around her in a huge bear hug. Uncomfortable with the closeness, Jessie was about to step back when Amanda held her at arm’s length and ran her gaze up and down.
“Why Jessie Nash, look at you all dressed up in that uniform. I swear, girl, if it weren’t for your long hair, you could pass for a boy. I need to take you shopping and get you gussied up. It’s so good to see you.” Amanda’s gaze dropped to Jessie’s ring finger. “Just as I suspected.”
Former best friend or not, don’t even think about going there. Jessie slipped her left hand behind her back. She had no intention of explaining to a girl, or rather a woman, why she hadn’t married. She had that debate with Nana almost every friggin’ night.
Jessie glanced to the booth where Dax had been sitting. If only Kerry had men like him, she’d be married in a heartbeat. Not to him specifically, since he was too controlling and too much the I-am-man type, but to some sensitive man who looked like him.
Jessie remembered her manners. “Amanda, do you rememb—”
Another shriek. “Ohmigod, is that you, Brian, underneath that scruffy beard?”
“Sure as shit is.” He stood, wrapped his arms around Amanda’s waist, and spun her, just like old times.
Jessie swore red underpants peeked out from under Amanda’s skirt.
“Boy, oh, boy, do you look great,” Brian said. “When did you blow into town?”
“’Bout four days ago.”
“Same here.”
Jessie sat down and scooted to the end of the booth while she waited for the two old friends to finish their out-of-control reunion. When they both slid in, Jessie realized she was a tad hurt. “Amanda, why didn’t you let me know you were back in town?” Brian had already explained his delayed appearance.
Amanda slapped a hand on Jessie’s wrist and squeezed. “Yeah, about that. I’ve been meaning to stop by, but I’ve been busy getting Momma situated. You might have heard she’s not doing all that well, which was why I had to come home in the first place.”
Jessie had heard her mother had been diagnosed with liver problems. Drinking was a bitch on the system. “I’m sorry she’s so bad. Do you have a minute to catch up or do you have to get back to her?”
“I’m good. A friend is staying with her this afternoon.”
Brian leaned forward with a gleam in his eye. “Say girls, you all know what’s happening in three weeks, don’t you?”
“No.” Jessie hadn’t a clue.
“I do.” Amanda winked at Brian then flashed a big smile at Jessie.
Jessie shook her head. “What? Tell me.” I’m so not dying to know.
“I can’t believe you, Jessie Nash,” Brian said. “It’s only our tenth high school reunion. What say we all drive over together to Calvert and have a blast.”
Brian had been the star athlete in high school while she’d been the geek. What he’d seen in her back then, she’d never know. “I’ll pass.”
The last thing she wanted to do was talk about the good ole days and how much their lives sucked because they’d done squat since high school. She didn’t get over to Calvert much since only a small portion of their graduation class even came from Kerry.
Amanda nudged her. “Come on, Jess. I’m going. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Really? Sure Amanda had been homecoming queen, but she never tried to be the most popular kid. Despite looking great, she had a mind too. “Look, I haven’t seen many of the kids since we graduated.” Nor had she wanted to.
Amanda winked at Brian. “Let me work on her. She’ll change her mind.”
Right. And the town’s road would be sprinkled with diamonds.
* * *
Dax was stumped. He’d found Roberta Barton all right, but he wasn’t so sure her information would lead him anywhere.
Roberta handed him a cup of steaming coffee. “Sugar’s on the table in the little, flowered bowl there. I don’t have any cream, so I hope that’s all right.”
“No problem.” He needed to wait for the coffee to cool. “How would you describe Sadie’s mood when she was here? Was she anxious, excited or what?” He slipped off his sweater since she kept the place stifling hot.
“Hmm. A, B, or C. I’ll take B for one hundred,” she giggled, acting ten instead of in her late sixties. “Excited.”
“Did she say about what?”
Her brows furrowed. “Well, the aliens of course. Wouldn’t you be if you’d found evidence they existed?”
He inwardly groaned at the mention of aliens again. The local theater must have shown some Roswell documentary, and the old ladies had bought into the conspiracy theory.
“Perhaps. How about telling me what you know about her disappearance, and start at the beginning.” Dax took a sip of the coffee and it nearly burned his tongue. Yowza. Well, at least the drink was strong, and he needed the caffeine to help him stay awake in her heated home.
“She came by last Tuesday to measure my windows. I’d found the cutest blue and white check material at Wilson’s Fabric House that I wanted her to use,” she said waving a hand, “but I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my home decorating plans. Anyway, that was the last time I saw her.” Roberta sniffled then dabbed her eyes with a lacy handkerchief.
“I thought you said she sounded excited.”
“She did when she told me about the goggles she’d found, and that she wanted to go back and see if she could find a piece of metal from the spaceship or something else alien. She was big into souvenirs.”
Dax didn’t want to go down that path. “Let’s suppose, for argument’s sake, she arrived home safely that night. Can you think of anywhere she might have gone the next day?”
Roberta closed her eyes. She remained still for so long, he thought she might have fallen asleep. Then her eyelids popped open. “Well, there was this man in town the week before Sadie left us. He rode in on some fancy schmancy motorcycle.”
That sounded like a potential lead. “Can you describe him?”
“Oh, yes. He was youngish—maybe sixty-five, with really thick, white hair. He was sexy as hell.” Roberta fanned herself.
Kerry must have done something to the water supply to make everyone want to get laid.
“Did you see Sadie and this man together?” he asked after nearly scalding his tongue on the coffee for the second time.
“Sure did. I could tell Sadie took a real liking to him. The Sunday before she disappeared, there was a church social. We always have a social on the third Sunday of the month. Could her man dance or what? He had Sadie doing the tango, and my, oh, my, they were attached at the hip most of the night. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if she hopped on the back of his bike and high-tailed it out of town.”
Now he was getting some place. “Do you know this man’s name?” Dax pulled out his phone to take down the information. He didn’t want to bring up the fact that her friend probably wouldn’t have measured Roberta’s windows if she’d planned to leave town the next day though. This strange man could have abducted Sadie, although Dax saw no reason to wait a week after the dance to take her.
“Sadie called him Sexy Sam. She never mentioned his last name.”
“I’ll ask around and see if anyone can ID him. Do you know where he was staying?”
“Why with Sadie, of course.”
Of course. He needed to get out of this crazy-as-a-bat town. “Thank you for your time. If you think of anything else, I’m staying over at the Nash place.”
She smiled. “Oh, don’t I know it.”
Great. He didn’t need rumors spread about him. What he did need was a drink—a really strong, cold drink, and The Coal Mine Bar was just the place. He might even find out more about Sadie Palmer’s new adventure from some of the locals. If that lead failed, he’d tackle Clinton DuPree’s disappearance.
Fortunately, Roberta lived less than a mile from town, and he was at the bar in no time. Dax pushed open the heavy wooden door to relative darkness, and it took a moment for his vision to adjust. The place smelled of stale beer, sweat, and rotten wood—a stench worse than the first time he’d been there. Not that a bar ought to smell like some spa, but this place was foul. Maybe that’s why it was called the Coal Mine Bar since it was like a fetid hole five hundred feet underground.
Dax scanned the insides. Only two other men were there, each with a drink in front of him, deep in conversation. Dax wouldn’t disturb them unless he needed to.
A huskily built bartender was polishing the wooden counter with a clean, white rag, and since the stools looked safe enough to sit on, Dax took a seat. “Hi, I’m Dax Mitchell, a private invest—”
“I know who you are. Brad told me to expect you.”
The town was smaller than he’d thought. “And you are?”
The bartender looked annoyed. “Bruno Quattrone, the owner.”
“I’d like to ask you some questions about Sadie Palmer.”
The bartender turned his back and lined up the liquor bottles behind him—bottles that were perfectly straight to begin with. Dax waited. It was what he did well.
Finally, Bruno turned around. “Sadie didn’t come in here, so I don’t know anything about her disappearance.”
Dax believed Mr. Gruff. “Then what can you tell me about the sheriff’s disappearance?”
His jaw clenched and his eyes squinted, as though he were in pain. “I wish I could help you there. I told Jessie everything I know, which was nothing.” This time, the man came off as sincere instead of inconvenienced.
“Do you know if the sheriff had any enemies?”
Bruno laughed, but the sound held no joy. “Everyone in this town has enemies, mostly because everyone has a secret or two.”
“What would the sheriff’s secret be?”
Bruno shook his head. “If I knew, it wouldn’t be a secret, now would it, Einstein?” The guy had a point.
A new customer rolled in and Bruno moved to the end of the bar to take his order. Dax swiveled around trying to figure out his next move. It was probably time to head to where Sadie had been seen last. He spun back to motion for Bruno, needing not only a drink but directions to the mine. The guy either was ignoring him or he didn’t see him wave his arms. After not getting the man’s attention for a good two minutes, Dax spoke up. “Hey, bartender.”
The owner turned. “Name’s Bruno. Do you have a short memory problem?”
His mom should have named him Pit Bull or Viper, but Bruno wasn’t a bad second choice. Dax decided to play nice. “Bruno, can I ask you something?” There—nice as could be.
The man looked disgusted, but then excused himself from the other customer and ambled over. “Yeah?”
“Can you give me directions to the mine?”
“Whatchu want to go there for? It’s been closed for a year.” Bruno tossed his towel into the bar sink.
Dax held his tongue. “I know, but Sadie Palmer was last seen there.”
Bruno’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, sure.” He turned to his right and faced the front door. “Take Main Street ’till you come to Orchard Avenue.” Bruno pointed with his right hand. “Take a right and go maybe three or four miles. Stanford Street is at the end, so when you reach it, hang another right. You can’t miss the place. Lots of Do Not Enter signs.”
“Thanks.”
Just as Dax was leaving, the door swung open and nearly hit him in the face. Three dusty men, all looking like they’d just gotten off work at the cement plant, plowed in. From the smiles on their faces, they were good friends. Dax missed that sort of friendship, but P.I.’s were meant to work alone.
As he stepped outside, he realized he’d never received that longed-for drink, but at this late hour, he couldn’t afford to stall. Maybe when he returned to town, he’d enjoy a cold brew. He checked the sky, noting the sun was close to setting, and calculated he had a half hour until dark. He would head to the mine, look around for a dropped handkerchief, a heel mark, or anything to show where Sadie might have been the night she disappeared, then head on over to The Sugar Shack for a bite to eat.
Worse case, he’d find some alien metal and go on a national tour. Late Night, here I come. Okay, so he’d lost his ever-loving mind. According to Mary Alice, alien technology could do things to a person, and he was close to being a believer.
With fantasy time over, Dax climbed into his truck and took off. Orchard Avenue was paved for the first two miles before turning to dirt. Dense forest lined both sides of the road, and boulders, some the size of an eleven-man football team, sat on the edge of the forest. Thick trees blocked out the last rays of the day.
Maybe coming this late hadn’t been such a good idea. He probably should have waited until morning when the sun was shining and the trees weren’t hovering over him like the specter of death.
Get a grip. He wasn’t trapped in a mine elevator, and he wasn’t hearing his father’s last screams or feeling the heat of fire singe his feet after the methane gas exploded below. He was safe. Yet the panic still clawed at his gut every time he was in a small, dark space. The woods at night might be in the wide open, but the rush of anxiety still claimed him. So far, no amount of therapy had helped.
Dax hummed and tapped the wheel to get his mind off the dark, hoping to stop the impending panic from ripping out his guts and making him wish he were dead.
Light peeked through the leaves at random intervals, and he could see for a few seconds at a time, which helped reduce the stress and lower his blood pressure. Once he reached the mine, he planned to keep his headlights on, which meant he had nothing to worry about.
Willing to take the jostling for the sake of time, Dax sped up. His struts squeaked, proving once more he should buy a new truck, but he’d grown fond of this one.
After another mile, the trees thinned. At the end, he hung a right, and a terraced hillside appeared. Four wooden structures, complete with a tall silo were pressed against a large mound of dirt that some might call a small mountain. In front sat the mine. A large No Trespassing sign was leaning halfway over, looking as if the metal post had been run over by a car or some piece of heavy machinery.
Pop. Ping.
What the hell was that? He looked around, straining his senses to hear where the noise had come from when his car jerked to the left, forcing him to fight for control. His tire hit a pothole, and he flew upward, smashing his head on the cab ceiling. “Shit.”
He let up on the gas pedal and slammed on his brakes. When he brought the truck to a halt, he jumped out to check the damage. Wind whipped his hair and sent a chill straight to his bones. He stepped around to the passenger’s side only to find his tire was flat and the rim bent. That sucked. He knelt down and ran a finger along the warm rubber, his heart nearly stopping when he felt a familiar shape of metal lodged deep in the tire.
A bullet.
A pissing sound near his foot drew his attention, and then the smell of gas hit him. His gaze shot to the rear of the truck to where a second bullet had creased the side panel. When he ran a hand under the gas tank, liquid was streaming out. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The beginnings of fear bubbled in his gut until anger took over. Dax stood and scanned the area, looking for the bastard who’d crippled him. He had to guess there was someone or something at the mine he shouldn’t see. Whether the warning shot had to do with Sadie or Clinton, he couldn’t hazard a guess.
Then reality sunk in. The shooter was still out there. Dax raced to the driver’s side and ducked down. He didn’t need to be pickings for some sharp shooter. He listened harder this time, trying to spot his location. Tree limbs banged against each other like dry bones, a bird chirped, and a squirrel raced up a tree, but that was all. No one was shouting for him to leave the area, and no one was running through the forest trying to get away.
Despite his training, Dax couldn’t locate anyone. It was as if the man had dropped in from outer space. While Dax had a gun in the glove compartment, he couldn’t hit what he couldn’t see.
He hadn’t passed any vehicle on the road nor spotted any car parked nearby. Because no one could have known he’d be there, the shooter might not have been targeting him personally. The town could have some sicko who lived nearby who took the No Trespassing sign to heart, though Dax couldn’t see him spending his days waiting with a scope to his eye for the occasional trespasser. On the other hand, Bruno the bartender could have called ahead to say some out of towner was asking questions.
The Nash’s used to own the mine, but Margaret had sold it to someone else. Batman? Catman? He’d have to ask her again.
Christ, he didn’t need this. Shooting out a tire took amazing training, and if the man had wanted Dax dead, he’d be dead. Stranding Dax there made even less sense as he might think to seek shelter at the mine—exactly where the shooter probably didn’t want Dax to go.
The sun’s warmth was slowly disappearing, and with it, its light. Shooter or no shooter, Dax wasn’t going to stay there any longer. He opened the driver’s side door and slithered in, not wanting to expose his body to another shot. He opened the glove compartment and found his one and only flashlight, having handed his other one to Jessie last night. He grabbed his gun and shoved it in his side holster.
Waiting was not an option. Without gas, this truck wasn’t going anywhere and given his cell phone didn’t have any reception, he had no choice but to hightail it back to town. The only trouble was, would the shooter be close behind?