Single Father Sheriff

“If you don’t count the scary dust bunnies, all went smoothly. I’m going to hire a cleaning crew to come in and finish the rest of the house, so I can focus on selling my aunt’s things.”

“You’re not taking any of it back home?”

“Aunt Cass’s decorating style and mine clash.” She slathered a pat of butter on a corn bread muffin and took a bite.

“She had a lot of collections, didn’t she?”

“Mermaids, wood carvings from the old days when Timberline was a lumber town—stuff like that.”

“And you’re just going to sell that stuff? Might be nice to hand down to the kids one day.”

She almost inhaled a few crumbs of corn bread. Kids? She had no intention of having kids. Ever. She coughed into her napkin. “Maybe.”

He reached forward so suddenly, she jerked back, but then he touched his fingertip to the corner of her mouth. “Corn bread.”

To quell the tingling sensation his touch had started on her lips, she pressed the napkin to her mouth again. “Great. Do I have chili in my eyebrows, too?”

Taking her chin between his fingers, he looked in her eyes, his own darkening to a deep blue. “Not that I can see.”

Laughter burst from the crowd sitting on the floor around the oversize, square coffee table, startling them both. He dropped his hand.

“You heard that story, didn’t you, Coop?” A woman from the group called to him.

He eased back into his chair and finished off the last of his beer. “What’s that, Jen?”

“Davis Unger, the little boy in Ms. Maynard’s class, who announced to everyone that his mom and the mailman were boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Coop chuckled. “Out of the mouths of babes. Does Mr. Unger know about that relationship?”

“I think it was all a misunderstanding.”

“Riight.”

“Doesn’t your daughter give you the kindergarten report every day?”

His daughter? Kendall sucked in a quick breath, her gaze darting to that finger on his left hand again.

“Steffi’s in her own little world half the time.” He stood up and stretched. “When I ask her about school, she tells me bizarre stories about unicorns and fairies. Should I be concerned?”

Jen and a few of the other women laughed. “She just has an active imagination, and all the kids are crazy about that fairy movie that just came out.”

Coop piled up his trash, and his hand hovered over her mostly empty plate. “Are you done?”

“You don’t need to wait on me.” She pushed back from the table, crumpling her napkin into her plate. “After all that food, I need to move. Let me take your empties, and you can go over there and discuss kindergarten.”

A vertical line flashed between his eyes as he handed his paper plate and bowl to her. “I’ll do that.”

“Another beer?”

“Wouldn’t do for the sheriff to set a bad example, would it?”

“Not at all.” She meandered back to the kitchen, exchanging a few words here and there with Melissa’s guests.

She slipped the trash into a plastic garbage bag in the kitchen and cleaned up some other items from the counter. Maybe Coop was divorced and had joint custody with his ex. Melissa would know. She made it her business to know everyone else’s.

But the interrogation would have to wait. Melissa took her hostessing duties very seriously, and Kendall couldn’t get one word with her alone.

After chitchatting and helping out with the cleanup duty, Kendall checked the time on her phone and decided to call it a night. She had a meeting with Rebecca tomorrow morning and wanted to check out a few online auction sites to assess Aunt Cass’s collections.

She eyed Coop across the room talking with a couple of men and mimicking throwing a football. Thank God she hadn’t stuck her foot in her mouth and admitted to never, ever wanting children since Coop had one.

Not that Coop’s parenthood, marital status or anything else about his personal life would matter to her one bit once she flew the coop. She grinned at her lame joke and strolled to the den off the foyer to grab her shawl.

She dipped next to Melissa sitting on the couch and whispered in her ear. “I’m going to take off. I’m exhausted.”

“Are you sure? There’s still dessert.”

“I can’t handle another bite, but let’s try to get together for lunch before I leave.”

“Let me see you out.” Melissa rocked forward, and Daryl placed a hand on her back to help her up.

“Nice to meet you, Daryl. You and Mel are welcome in Phoenix anytime.” She pecked him on the cheek, and he gave her a quick hug around the neck.

Melissa took her arm as they walked to the front door. “Daryl and I are taking off for Seattle for a few days, but we should be back before you leave. Don’t be a stranger while you’re here and if you need any help with Aunt Cass’s house, call me.”

“Call you for help cleaning a house?”

“Hey.” Melissa nipped her side with her fingertips. “I know people.”

“I think I know the same people.”

Coop materialized behind Melissa. “I’ll walk you to your truck.”

With her back to Coop, Melissa gave her a broad wink.

“Okay, thanks.” Kendall hugged her friend goodbye and stepped out onto the porch with Coop close behind her.

He lifted his face to the mist in the air. “Ahh, refreshing.”

“Are you a native of Washington?”

“No, California. I’ve been here about five years.”

“Oh, the reviled California transplant.”

He spread his arms. “That’s me.”

“Well, this is me.” She kicked the tire of her aunt’s truck.

He took her hand as if to shake it, but he just held it. “Good to talk to you tonight about...other things.”

“It’s always good to talk about other things.” She squeezed his hand and disentangled her fingers from his.

She climbed into the truck and cranked the key twice to get the engine to turn over. Waving, she pulled into the street. As the truck tilted up the slight incline, an object in the truck bed shifted and hit the tailgate.

She drew her brows over her nose. She didn’t have anything in the back.

She reversed into her previous parking spot and threw the truck into Park. As she hopped from the seat, Coop turned at the porch.

Using the light on her cell phone, she stood on her tiptoes to peer into the truck bed. She traced the beam along the inside where it picked up a bundle wrapped in a tarp. Then the light picked up one small, pale hand poking from the tarp.

Kendall screamed like she’d never stop.

Chapter Four

Kendall’s scream pierced the still night and turned the blood in his veins to ice. Coop had already been making his way back down the drive when he’d heard Kendall’s truck coming back to the house. Now his boots grappled for purchase against the soggy leaves on the walkway as he ran toward Kendall.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” By the time he reached her, he was panting as if he’d just run a marathon.

She’d stumbled back from the truck and stood staring at the tailgate with wide, glassy eyes. Raising her arm, she pointed to the truck with her cell phone. She worked her jaw but couldn’t form any words—no coherent words, anyway.

He pried the phone from her stiff fingers and aiming the light at the truck bed, he jumped on the bumper. The phone illuminated a light-colored tarp with something rolled up in it.

“I-it’s a body.”

His heart slammed against his rib cage when his gaze stumbled across a hand peeking from the tarp. He leaned in close, aiming the phone’s flashlight at the pale appendage, sniffing the air.

He smelled...turpentine. The hard plastic of the hand gleamed under the light and he poked it with the corner of the phone.

Pinching a corner of the tarp between his fingers, he lifted it, exposing the foot of the mannequin.

He blew out a breath and jumped down from the truck. “It’s not a body, Kendall. It’s a mannequin.”

Her eyebrows collided over her nose. “A mannequin?”

“Do you want to have a look?”

She hunched her shoulders and drew her shawl around her body. “No. What’s it doing in my truck? I didn’t put a mannequin in my truck. I don’t even have a mannequin. Why is it wrapped up like that?”

“Beats me, but I’m going to get a few of my guys down here to collect some evidence, and I’d better call the FBI.”

“FBI?” Her voice squeaked and she burrowed further into her shawl. “Why would you call the FBI?”

“I’m pretty sure the agents investigating the kidnappings will be interested in this development, or at least they should be.”

“Why?” She tilted her head and her long braid almost reached her waist.

“The mannequin?” Coop chewed on his bottom lip before spitting out his next words. “It’s a kid.”

Kendall choked and swayed on her feet.

He jumped forward to grab her and ended up pulling her against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her shaking frame. Beads of moisture trembled in the strands of her hair, and he brushed his hand across the top of her head to sweep them off.

“Let’s go inside. I’ll make those calls and you can warm up.” He rubbed her arms still wrapped in the shawl. “You’re shivering.”

“Do we have to?” she murmured against his chest. “You can’t use your cell phone for those calls?”

“And keep you waiting around outside while I do? No way.”

She placed her hands against his chest and leaned back, looking into his face. “I don’t want to go back in there and make a scene. I’m surprised they didn’t all come rushing out here when they heard me scream.”

“They didn’t hear you. I was standing on the porch and the decibel level is high in there. Someone even turned on some music, not to mention the house is set back from the street.” He spread his arms. “So, no alarm bells.”

“Until we walk into that house. They were already eyeing me in there like I was some kind of black cloud.”

Grabbing the edges of her shawl, he tugged. “It’s just a mannequin, Kendall, not a dead body. Just some kind of sick trick.”

“If you really believe that, why are you calling out your officers, the FBI and God knows who else?”

“Because we’ve had two kidnappings in this town, and that mannequin was left for you. If there’s any kind of forensic evidence in your truck, we need to get our hands on it.”

“All right.” She rolled back her shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”

He ushered Kendall back into the house, but most of the guests were too busy talking, eating and singing karaoke in the corner to notice them.

As one of Daryl’s colleagues from Evergreen hit a high note in a 1980s rock song, Coop winced and squeezed Kendall’s arm.

She rewarded him with an answering grimace and an eye roll.

“Couldn’t stay away from the karaoke?” Melissa sailed forward, snapping her fingers and shaking her hips. Then her eyes widened and the smile dropped from her lips. “What’s wrong?”

Coop bent forward until his lips almost grazed Melissa’s ear. “Someone pulled a prank on Kendall by leaving a mannequin wrapped in a tarp in the back of her truck.”

“Why would someone do that?” Melissa clapped one hand over her mouth. “You think it has something to do with—” she glanced over her shoulder at her guests whooping it up “—the kidnappings?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but if it is just teenagers and we catch them, let’s just say this could be a teachable moment for them.”

“I’m sure that’s all it is.” She yanked on Kendall’s braid and grabbed a phone from its stand. “You can use our landline. Our reception is so iffy down here, we can’t always depend on our cell phones.”

Coop called the station first and asked the sergeant on duty to bring a forensics kit and send a squad car over. Then he plucked Agent Dennis Maxfield’s business card from his wallet and punched in his number.

While the phone rang, he covered the mouthpiece and jerked his chin toward an open bottle of wine on the counter. “Have another glass, Kendall. I’ll give you a ride home when this is all over.”

“Agent Maxfield.”

“This is Sheriff Sloane. There was an incident tonight I thought you might want to know about. Someone wrapped a tarp around a child-sized mannequin and put it in a truck bed to make it look like a body.”

“Sick SOB. What’s that got to do with the kidnappings?”

Coop turned his back to Kendall and Melissa chatting over their wine. “The truck belonged to Kendall Rush.”

Silence ticked by for two seconds. “Who?”

“Kendall Rush. Her sister Kayla Rush was one of the Timberline Trio.”

“Yeah—twenty-five years ago.”

Coop’s jaw tightened. “It’s a coincidence, don’t you think? If the mannequin had appeared in some random employee’s truck at Evergreen, I wouldn’t be as interested in it as I am.”

“Is your department already looking into it, Sheriff?”

“My guys are on the way.”

“We’ll let you handle...this one. Let us know if you find anything of interest to our case.”

Coop had a death grip on the phone, but he closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles. “Copy that, Maxfield.”

He held out the phone to Melissa. “Thanks.”

“Well? Is everyone going to rush out here with their lights spinning and guns blazing?” Kendall swirled the single sip of wine left in her glass before downing it.

“Couple of my guys are going to have a look—fingerprints, fibers, footprints. Then they’ll take the mannequin away and we can figure out where it and the tarp came from.”

“My guests are going to know, aren’t they?” Melissa’s gaze slid to the merrymakers in the other room.

Coop snorted. “By the sound of it, they’ll be too drunk to notice what’s going on. I hope they all have designated drivers.”

Ten minutes later, Sergeant Payton called to indicate he and the patrol officer were out front.

Coop popped a mini creampuff in his mouth and charged toward the front door, eager to escape the screeching duo on the makeshift stage.

“Hold your horses.” Kendall grabbed on to his belt loop. “I’m coming with you.”

“Are you sure?”

She covered her ears. “Even looking into the dead eyes of a mannequin has got to be better than this.”

Nodding, he opened the door for her, releasing a breath into the cold night. The wine had done her good, or maybe it was being around people oblivious to her uneasiness. He glanced back into the room, still frothing with hilarity.

That wouldn’t last long.

Both officers had double-parked their squad cars, since the party guests had left no room on the street. They broke off their conversation when Coop and Kendall exited the Rhodes’ yard.

Sergeant Payton pushed off the door of his car and met them at the truck. “We already took a look. Creepy.”

“Did you watch where you were stepping?” Coop pointed at the ground. “Ms. Rush and I already tromped through here before we knew what we had.”

The sergeant flicked on a spotlight to flood the truck bed and the area around it with light. “We had a look before, but either the person who planted the mannequin covered up any footprints and disturbances or the wind and rain did it.”

Coop crouched next to the back tire and examined the road. It hadn’t helped matters that Kendall had driven the truck away and then backed up. The moist dirt bordering the street showed no footprints except theirs.

The patrol officer joined them—a new kid named Quentin Stevens.

He held up a black case. “I have the fingerprint materials. Should I give it a try?”

“Why not? Dust the tailgate and all around the back of the truck.”

“Do the homeowners have a surveillance camera, by any chance?” The sergeant poked his head into the yard.

“Not that I know of. Like I said, Ms. Rush and I were both attending a party at the house. The owners are friends of mine. I think they would’ve told me if they had cameras, but I’ll ask.”

The front door swung open, and a couple descended the porch steps. As they looked up, they stumbled to a stop.

“What’s going on?”

Kendall cleared her throat. “Someone left something in my truck, probably a stupid joke.”

The couple, who had two kids at home, picked up their pace and approached the circle of white light. The woman spoke up. “What kind of joke?”

“A stupid mannequin.”

The man draped his arm around his wife and forced a laugh. “Teenagers.”

Coop shot a glance at his two deputies, willing them to keep quiet about the fact that the mannequin was a child and wrapped up to look like a dead body.

Melissa and Daryl must’ve ended the party because a steady stream of people started leaving their house, all drawn to the investigation area like lemmings to the sea.

Sergeant Payton and Stevens went about their business as Coop and Kendall fielded questions and kept the looky-loos at bay.

Finally, they all cleared out and when the last one drove off, Melissa and Daryl barreled down the drive.

Melissa took Kendall’s hand. “Anything?”

“Nothing yet, but they’re about to take the thing out of the truck.”

“Maybe we’ll find something when we bring it in.” Coop opened the back door of the squad car. “Lay it in the backseat.”

He turned to Daryl while the sergeant and Stevens wrestled with the mannequin. “Do you guys have a security camera on the house?”

“No, but after this? We’re getting one. Tell us the best model to buy and we’ll buy it.”

“Will do.”

“Sweetie, do you want to come inside for a while?” Melissa rubbed a circle on Kendall’s back. “You’re freezing, and I promise I won’t make you help clean up—unless you want to.”

“Thanks, Melissa, but I just want to get home.”

Coop raised his hand. “I’m taking Kendall home.”

“That’s okay. I think that second glass of wine has worn off by now.”

“Ha! Let me warn you, ma’am, if you attempt to get behind the wheel of this truck, I’m gonna have to arrest you.”

Melissa squeezed Kendall’s shoulder. “I can pick you up tomorrow, Kendall, to get the truck or if you want to leave the keys, Daryl can take it over in the morning.”

“If you don’t mind.” Kendall dug the keys to the truck out of her purse and dangled them in front of Melissa.

Melissa snatched them from her fingers. “Not at all. Go—warm up, relax. You’re in good hands with Sheriff Sloane.”

They said their goodbyes and Coop bundled Kendall in the passenger seat of his civilian car—a truck but a newer model than Kendall’s old jalopy.

He slid a glance at Kendall’s profile, which looked carved from ice. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“It might just be a joke. There’s some pretty sick humor out there, and you know teens.”

“You’re probably right. Why would the kidnapper want to expose himself to scrutiny before he collects his ransom?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel in a spasm. She had to know that if the kidnapper hadn’t demanded a ransom now, chances are good he never would. None was ever asked for her twin sister.

Spitting angry droplets against his windshield, the rain started up again before he pulled into her driveway. Steffi hated the rain and another pinprick of guilt needled him next to all the others for making her stay in a place she didn’t like, a place that never seemed like home even though she was born here. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to stay. Now he wasn’t quite so sure.

He parked the truck and killed the engine. He’d at least walk Kendall up to the front door, not that he felt comfortable leaving her here after that stunt.

She swung around. “Do you want to come inside for a minute? I hate the rain.”

“Sure. This was supposed to be a relaxing evening for me, a kickoff to a few vacation days, and I spent the second half of it working.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t blame you—not much, anyway.”

A smile quirked her lips, and she grabbed the door handle.

He exited the truck and followed her to the porch, scanning her outdoor lighting and the screens on her windows. She could use a surveillance system here, too.

She unlocked the door and twisted her head over her shoulder. “I think you’ll find it a little easier to breathe in here compared to this afternoon.”

He stepped across the threshold and took a deep breath. Not only did he not get a lungful of dust, but the sweet scent of a candle or some air freshener tickled his nose. “That’s better.”

“I can’t vouch for the rest of the rooms, but at least this one’s clean, and the kitchen and the bedroom where I’m sleeping.” She tossed her purse on the nearest chair. “I’m going to admit defeat and get a cleaning crew in to finish the job.”

“Probably not a bad idea.” He poked the toe of his boot at one of the boxes. “When are you going to have the estate sale?”

“As early as this weekend. You looking for some furniture from the Nixon era?”

“I think I’ll pass.”

“Would you like something to drink?”

He took a turn around the room, his gaze wandering to the cabinet where the phantom spider had been hiding. “Coffee, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“None, but do you need to get home to your daughter?”

Ah, he knew that was coming. “She’s having a sleepover with her friend, who happens to be the daughter of our receptionist at the station.”

“She’s five?” She crooked her finger. “Follow me to the kitchen while I make the coffee.”

He folded his arms and wedged a shoulder against the doorway into the small kitchen. “Yeah, Steffi’s five and a half, as she’ll be quick to tell you, and she’s in kindergarten at Carver Elementary.”

“Good, old Carver.” She poured water into the coffeemaker and punched the button to start the brew. “Are you...married?”

Knew that one was coming, too.

He held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers. “Nope.”

“Divorced?”

Even though it had been business, he’d poked into her personal life and that intimacy must’ve given her the impression it was okay for her to return the favor. She probably wouldn’t feel the same way if one of her clients turned the tables and started asking her personal questions.

“I’m sorry. I’m prying. Occupational hazard. You can just ignore me, if you like.” She turned and grabbed the handle to the refrigerator. “Milk with your coffee? No cream.”

“I take it black, and I don’t mind the third degree.”

“Yes, you do.” She pulled a carton of milk from the fridge. “Your face closed down, and your mouth got tight.”

“You’d be good interviewing suspects.” He took a quick breath and then blurted out, “She’s dead.”

Her hand jerked and the milk she’d been pouring into a mug sloshed onto the counter. “Excuse me?”

“My wife—she’s dead.”

“I’m so sorry.” She swiped a sponge from the sink and dabbed at the pool of milk.

He pointed to the coffeemaker, the last drips of coffee falling into the pot. “Coffee’s done.”

Kendall tossed the sponge back into the sink and poured a stream into his cup. Then she added some to the mug with the milk.

Taking the handles of both cups, she said, “Let’s go sit in the living room where it’s warmer.”

He took the mug from her. “Thanks.”

They sat in chairs across from each other, and he used the box next to his chair as an end table.

“Do you like Timberline?” She watched him over the rim of her cup and he got the sense that she had the same look in her eye when she was sitting across from a patient or a client or whatever term they used.

“I like it. I’m an outdoorsy kind of guy, so I like the fishing, hiking, rafting.”

“You’ve come to the right place for that.” She ran the tip of her finger around the rim of her mug. “Looks like Evergreen Software is making an impact on the area. Young and Sons Lumber had gone out of business before I left for college, and Timberline was in danger of becoming a ghost town.”

“Evergreen had already planted stakes by the time I got here, so I don’t have the before and after picture, except from the locals’ stories of the old days, and Mayor Young is always crowing about how much he’s done for development in Timberline.”