Lock, Stock and McCullen

“I’m the sheriff,” he murmured. “I’m here to protect you and everyone in this town.”

She nodded against his chest, her sobs finally subsiding. Then she lifted her chin and looked up at him. The pain in her eyes tore at him.

She blinked, tears glistening on her eyelashes in the moonlight that seeped through the clouds.

“Let’s go inside and you can tell me everything.”

Her lower lip quivered as she released him and folded her arms around her waist. She stumbled on a fallen tree limb on the ground, and he steadied her as they walked up the steps to the porch. When they made it to the doorway, she froze, her eyes widening again in fear.

“I thought I heard a noise upstairs earlier.”

He immediately drew his gun and coaxed her aside. “Wait here. Let me check the house.”

She nodded and gripped the doorjamb as he scanned the living room to the left. It was clear, so he veered to the right and scanned the kitchen, which was connected to the living room by a breakfast bar. The kitchen was empty, so he took the staircase, his senses honed for sounds of an intruder.

The furnace kicked on, rattling in the silence, and he paused at the top of the staircase to glance into the room to the right.

An iron bed covered in a pale blue-and-white quilt dominated the room, and an antique dresser held perfume bottles and candles by the bathroom door. He went inside, instincts alert, but saw nothing amiss. A quick check in the closet told him this was Rose’s room. Feminine dresses, blouses and shoes filled the closet.

Exhaling slowly, he turned and crossed to the room on the opposite side of the hall. This must be a guest room. The bedding was simple, with a white coverlet on a four-poster Shaker-style bed, and there was a Shaker-style dresser by the wall. The closet held a few containers stacked with extra clothing and items.

But the rooms were clear.

Relieved, he headed back down the stairs. Rose was pacing by the fireplace, her hands worrying the belt of her robe, her face pale.

“No one is upstairs.”

“Let me put some clothes on,” she said as if she suddenly realized how naked she was.

He nodded. He needed her clothed so he could forget about how she’d felt in his arms and focus on the reason someone had tried to kill her.

* * *

ROSE THREW ON a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, fighting a sob. Thad had not only made a fool out of her but he also wanted her dead.

Why?

She glanced in the mirror, shocked at the woman she saw looking back. Her eyes were puffy and red with dark circles beneath them, her face bruised, her hair stringy and tangled. She didn’t even look like herself.

Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she dragged a brush through the tangles, then slowly descended the steps, relieved that the sheriff had made it to her house so quickly. She didn’t know Maddox McCullen very well, but everyone in town said he was decent and hardworking—a family man.

A man to trust.

God knows she’d trusted the wrong man so far.

“I’ll make coffee,” she said, desperate for something to do with her hands as she met him at the foot of the staircase.

He gave a grim nod and followed her to the kitchen. An awkwardness, thick and unsettling, cloaked the room as she measured the grounds and filled the coffeepot with water, and they waited on it to brew.

She removed two mugs from the cabinet. “Sugar or cream?”

“Black,” he said.

Just as she’d expect from a man like him. Everything about Maddox screamed alpha male. Strong, take-charge...masculine.

When it was ready, she filled his mug. He blew on his coffee for a moment, and she gestured toward the pine table and sank into a straight chair. He joined her, still silent, as if he knew she needed time to pull herself together.

Finally she shoved her hair from her eyes, took a deep breath and began. “Thad suggested we elope yesterday,” Rose said. “Since neither of us have family that we’re close to, I agreed.”

“You were anxious to get married?”

She nodded, although heat flooded her cheeks. Why did men make it sound as if women were desperate to get married? “I thought he loved me, that we were going to build a life together.”

His jaw tightened. “Go on.”

“We decided to go to Cheyenne for the ceremony, but on the way Thad said he knew this private little place off the path, that we could spend the night and have a romantic evening before the wedding.”

“So you went to this cabin?”

“Yes.” Rose sipped her coffee, tidbits of the last twenty-four hours taunting her. Little things that at the time had seemed insignificant, or even thoughtful, now took on a sinister meaning.

“At first, I thought it was eerie when he drove down this dirt road to the cabin, but he had flowers and wine and...he said he wanted us to be alone, and he made it seem romantic.”

“Did you tell anyone where you were going? That you were eloping?”

She shook her head. “I wanted to call Trina, my assistant at the antiques shop, but he said it was more fun if it was our secret, so I texted her that I was taking a couple of days off and asked her to manage Vintage Treasures.”

“You didn’t tell her where you were going?”

“No, no one knew.” Self-disgust ate at her. “Now I understand the reason. He planned to kill me and leave me in the wilderness so no one would find me.”

Silence lingered for a full minute before Maddox asked, “What happened at the cabin?”

She massaged the scar at the base of her temple, a nervous habit she’d had since she was young. “I went to take a bubble bath while he was supposedly setting up a picnic for us. But when I got out of the tub, I heard him talking on his cell phone.”

“Who was he talking to?”

“I don’t know.” The conversation echoed in her head, making her blood run cold. “I heard him say that I was the one... At first, I thought he meant it romantically. That I was the one he loved, the one he was meant to be with.”

The irony of that statement seemed to hit both of them. “Then what happened?”

“He held up this flyer. It had a picture of a little girl on a milk carton on it.”

Maddox’s brows drew together in a deep frown. “A little girl?”

“She was about five years old.” She fidgeted, still trying to make sense of it. “Then he said I was the one they’d been looking for, and that I’d be dead by morning.”

A heartbeat passed. “He meant that you were the girl on the milk carton?”

“Yes,” Rose whispered, her agitation mounting. “But that doesn’t make sense.”

“He didn’t elaborate?”

“No.” She shivered. “Instead, he pulled a gun from his briefcase.”

“Did you know he carried a weapon?”

“No, I’d never seen it.” She twisted her hands together. “But it scared me, and I stumbled. Then he saw me and came after me.” Her breath came out in spurts as fear once again seized her. “He shot at me and missed, and we fought. I tried to get away but the gun went off again.”

Maddox covered her hand with his. “Go on.”

“I shot him, Maddox. I didn’t mean to, but the bullet hit him.” She blinked back more tears, her heart pounding. “Blood soaked his shirt, and I was terrified, so I ran to the car. He staggered to the door and fired at me again.”

Another tense silence. “Did he follow you?”

“I don’t know, he collapsed on the ground,” she cried. “I think I might have killed him.”

Chapter Three

Tears filled Rose’s eyes again, the terror returning. She could still see the sinister look in Thad’s eyes, see him lunging for her with that gun.

“You didn’t call an ambulance or the police?”

Rose tensed. “No, I tried my cell as I was leaving and there was no service. Then all I could think about was escaping.”

He lifted her wrists, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he noted the bruises. “He grabbed you here?”

“Yes,” she said, remembering the horror of his fingers clenching her as Maddox gently stroked the tender area.

“Can you tell me where this cabin is?” Maddox said.

“I don’t know the name of the road we turned off on. But...I could probably find it.”

He stood. “I have to go out there and see if he’s still alive.”

Nerves fluttered in Rose’s stomach. What if Thad was dead? Would she be arrested for murder?

* * *

MADDOX CONSIDERED CALLING the Cheyenne Police Department, but figured he’d assess the situation first and find out if Thoreau was dead or alive.

He texted Mama Mary to let her know that he might not be home tonight, and to call him if his father’s condition changed.

“I understand it may be difficult for you, Rose, but do you mind riding with me and guiding me to the cabin?”

Wariness darkened her eyes, but she squared her shoulders as if to gather her courage. “No, I’ll take you there.”

He led the way outside, giving her time to lock the door. She still seemed wobbly as they walked to his car, and he opened the passenger door and waited until she settled inside before he circled around to the driver’s seat.

Anxiety vibrated between them as he veered onto the highway and drove through Pistol Whip, which was situated in a flat stretch between the mountains. Land spread out before them, miles and miles that were untamed, where antelope, deer, elk and other wildlife thrived.

Tourists wanting a frontier town and trail riding, or a layover on their way to Laramie or Cheyenne, often stopped in Pistol Whip. Hikers, mountain climbers and fishermen especially took advantage of the proximity to the majestic mountains and river.

Locals had created a small museum showcasing the area’s history. Apparently in the late 1800s, a famous gunslinger had ridden through the hills in search of a hideout. When three local vigilantes discovered his identity, they strung him up in town and pistol-whipped him to death.

The town council at the time dubbed the town with the name Pistol Whip to remind people that they couldn’t take the law into their own hands.

“Tell me about your fiancé,” Maddox finally said. Any background information on their relationship would be helpful.

Rose toyed with a string on the bottom of her T-shirt. “We met in Cheyenne,” she said. “I was there for an antiques show, and he was on business.”

“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 Rose’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.