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“I don’tknowher. I knowofher. Her face is on flyers everywhere. She’s an artist and holds exhibitions at the town hall.” Oakley wet his lips. “That’s where I first saw her and since then I’ve noticed her around town in Blackwater. She’s a little hard to miss, you know.”
“Well, not lately.” Kane narrowed his gaze. “Seems like she’s gone missing.”
“Well, I haven’t got her.” Oakley laughed. “Although. She’s the type I like: small and slim with beautiful eyes.” He looked at Jenna. “Like you, Sheriff.”
“Well, I’m afraid the sheriff is taken.” Kane shrugged. “Tough luck, huh?”
“Never say never.” Oakley grinned at Kane. “That’s my motto.” He blew out a sigh and checked his watch. “The owner of this truck will be coming by to collect it soon. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Jenna nodded. “Yeah, do you own any property apart from your home?”
“I have a cabin out at Troubled Creek but I only use it in summer.” Oakley sighed. “I like to go fishing there. It’s peaceful apart from the brown bears. Seems they like to fish there too. I figure that’s how the place got its name. If you fish there, you’ll get into trouble.”
“Yeah, well the bears were there first.” Kane cleared his throat and turned to Jenna. “Is that all, Sheriff? We need to be moving along.”
Unable to get a vibe from this man, Jenna handed him her card. “Thank you for your time.” She paused and turned back to him. “Did you happen to see an old beat-up truck alongside the road not far from the Trible Z Bar when you left on Monday?”
“Can’t say that I did.” Oakley stared at the card and then back at Jenna. “I’ll be sure to call you if anything else comes to mind.”
Suddenly wishing she’d asked Kane to hand over his card, Jenna hurried back to the Beast, oblivious to the sleet pelting her jacket. She climbed inside and looked at Kane, who was observing her with interest. “What?”
“That’s the second man to hit on you this week.” Kane looked confused. “You used to bite back when men were suggestive and now you ignore them. Why is that?”
Trying not to laugh, Jenna patted his cheek. “Well, we weren’t married before, so I stuck up for myself.”
“So, what’s changed?” Kane frowned. “I didn’t just stand by before and allow men to disrespect you, did I?”
“No, but you’ve changed. It’s subtle, but you’re a little possessive, and I’m not opposed to that because I’m a little possessive of you too.” Jenna smiled at him. “Now, if they hit on me, it’s like I have a silverback standing beside me ready to tear off their heads, so I just ignore them. One look at your expression and they know I’m in a no-touch zone.” She waved her hand displaying her wedding band. “I have a ring of confidence. As soon as people know I’m your wife, this acts like a brick wall.” She glanced at her watch. “Okay, next on our list is the plumber, Lance Barker, out of Hatchett Street. That’s near Maple.”
“I’d like to make a few notes before we move on.” Kane started the engine. “We’ll drop by Aunt Betty’s for lunch and give Duke a walk. We don’t know if Barker is out on a job. I’ll call him and find out where he is at the moment.”
Jenna smiled at him. “That would be nice. I’m sure feeling the cold. My bruises seem tenfold right now.” She leaned back and stroked Duke’s head. “And Duke looks like he’s wasting away,” She burst out laughing. “Hurry now, before they sell all the cherry pie.”
TWENTY-NINE
Blackwater
Jo Wells’ teeth chattered as they edged their way along the perimeter of the forest surrounding the substantial cabin owned by Ginger Vaughn. Ice cracked under her boots. Sleet ran down her neck and cut into her cheeks. It was a miserably cold day in Broken Wolf Forest and the last place she wanted to be. They moved slowly toward the cabin with Carter in the lead scanning the area. Out front was the vehicle registered to the missing woman, but something didn’t look right. The garage doors stood wide open and plainly visible inside was a crated picture with the number six prominent in red paint. Water ran in rivulets into the garage dangerously close to the picture. “An artist wouldn’t go to the trouble of crating up a painting and then leaving it out in the elements. Something is wrong.”
“Yeah, I figured the same, and if that’s the painting she brought home to sell to a client, the sale obviously didn’t go through. Maybe she decided to drown her sorrows and now she’s sleeping it off. I can’t see anyone lurking about. I figure we’re good to go.” Carter moved onto the porch and pounded on the door. “Only way to find out for sure is to see if she’s inside.”
Jo jumped from one foot to the other as icy cold wind wrapped around her legs. In the forest, branches cracked, sounding like gunshots. Keeping her back to the wall, she scanned the forest, seeing no one. Not a sound came from inside the house after Carter’s pounding. “Maybe the garage leads inside?”
“We’ll take a look.” Carter led the way down the steps but froze mid-stride when he came to the garage doors. “Look here in the mud. It’s the same tire marks found where Maisy Jones went missing. This could tie in the disappearances between both counties.” He crouched down. “I’ll take some shots before the sleet washes them away.” He pulled out his phone. “Check and see if that door is locked.”
Jo stepped around him, aware the garage might be a crime scene and made her way to the door. She removed her warm gloves and replaced them with examination gloves and turned the knob. The door swung open without a sound. “FBI. Miss Vaughn, are you here?”
Nothing.
“We’ll take a look inside.” Carter followed Jo into the house. “It doesn’t look lived in, does it? No ashes in the hearth or a half-filled coffee pot. This place looks as if it’s been cleaned. As if she’s already packed up for winter.”
Jo opened the refrigerator. “Apart from condiments it’s empty. She wasn’t living here, that’s for sure. Let’s check the rest of the cabin. I don’t think anyone is here. The only thing I can smell is paint. If someone had been killed here, it would stink.”
They moved around the cabin and cleared all the rooms, but apart from a few paintings draped with white cloths, the rest of the place appeared unoccupied. “It looks as if she painted here through summer and was in the process of moving back to town. She has a place in town, and once the snow comes, this cottage will be isolated.”
Jo led the way back through the garage. “Maybe we should move the picture before it gets wet?”
“I’ll take some shots of it first. It might be significant to the case.” Carter pulled out his phone. He bent and picked up the painting. “Open the door, Jo, and I’ll place it in the kitchen.”
