A Flurry of Lies (Bison Creek Mystery Series Book 4) Read online

  “A note? A card? An encrypted message?”

  “No,” Tina shouted. Tamale took a hard fast stance at his owner’s side.

  “Money?” I tilted my head. “Yep. It’s gotta be money. Then how did you know it was in there?”

  “Stop it!” Tina’s face was redder than a bowl of extra spicy salsa. Her hands were clenched into fists, and her nostrils continued to flare as she glared at me. “I didn’t do it, okay? Just drop it.”

  “Fine.” I took a step back. “But just so you know, I’m much more understanding than the sheriff. He’ll come knocking eventually, especially since it was his little brother who put you up to the task.”

  Tina’s eyes went wide.

  “I . . . he . . .”

  Phew. I guessed it right.

  “It’s okay,” I said, holding up a hand. “Just make sure you get your story straight when the police come and see you.” I turned to leave.

  “I couldn’t do it,” Tina blurted out. “It was stuck in there good. I had to break the skull.”

  I stopped and gave her my full attention, as did Tamale.

  “What was stuck?”

  “Listen, Essie, my parents can never find out,” she muttered. “They’ll never forgive me.”

  “I can’t speak for the sheriff, but I won’t say a word,” I promised.

  “I didn’t know that man was the sheriff’s brother, and I didn’t know he would be sticking around,” she explained. “He came to me and said he’d hidden something in that sugar skull like thirty years ago when the restaurant first opened. He said he would give me five thousand dollars if I retrieved it for him no questions asked. Essie, I needed that money bad.”

  “So, you broke the skull?”

  Tina nodded. “I didn’t want to, but it was the only way. I didn’t want Tamale to bark up a storm, so I locked him in the office and went outside. It was late, and no one was around. At least, I thought no one was around.” She sniffled and pressed the corner of her eye. “I panicked. I figured staging a break-in was the best thing to do. It all happened so fast.”

  “What was in the sugar skull?” My stomach churned as I waited for her reply. It had to be small and important.

  Tamale barked as Mrs. Santos came walking down the hallway with a to-go bag in hand.

  “A key,” Tina whispered.

  Chapter 24

  “Is this considered stalking?”

  Wade ran his fingers through his dark hair, tucking loose strands behind his ears. Joy slapped his shoulder. Wade’s hands dropped to his lap and Joy smiled as she patted the top of her head.

  “Cool hair is my thing, remember?”

  “Come on, Joy. Your sister is losing her mind, and all you can think about is your hair?”

  “So, you hate it?” Joy raised her eyebrows.

  “I told you I loved it this morning,” he responded.

  “Uh, excuse me?” I waved my hands in front of Wade’s face. I’d had a rough day. For one, I hadn’t slept all night after visiting Patrick in the hospital. He was recovering just fine, but he’d acted a bit strange. A bit distant. I’d gone to bed last night overanalyzing every part of our brief conversation. Then I’d woken up early to meet the mayor for our morning run, and he didn’t show.

  “Sorry.” Wade huffed and looked straight ahead. The three of us and Miso sat in his Camaro in the place it all started—his special campsite. “What are we looking for again?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, but I’ll know it when I see it.”

  “And this has to do with that key, right?” Wade scanned the forest in front of us. “I think I got it.”

  “That’s right. The sheriff made a big deal about his brother being up here over the weekend. After I found out about that key, I figured he was hiding something around here. Maybe the sheriff already found it.”

  “What makes you so sure this is related to the murder case?” Joy crossed her arms, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the rearview mirror.

  “It’s simple,” I replied. “Wade isn’t in jail.” I opened my door, prepared to walk up the dirt road even farther. “If Sheriff Williams had no other leads, he would have arrested Wade a few days ago. His brother is involved in all of this somehow. I know it.”

  “But I thought you said this was all about the mayor. So, the sheriff’s brother is trying to kill the mayor?” Joy opened the passenger’s door and joined me. A cool breeze rustled through the trees, sending a wave of uncertainty through my chest. My muscles tensed. I would never look at trees the same way again.

  “Talk about dysfunctional,” Wade murmured.

  “Why, though?” Joy wrinkled her nose. “That Ralph guy has been gone so long, I doubt he’d ever met the mayor until he rolled back into town.”

  “True.” I contemplated the possibilities. “So, maybe he’s not the murderer, but that doesn’t mean he’s not guilty of something.”

  Wade hopped out of the car and shut the door, locking it three times for good measure.

  “If it means my freedom then I’m in,” he commented. “I don’t care who fired that shot so long as they pay for it and I don’t go to jail.” He surveyed the mountains and open meadow. The sun was setting, and the sky was a deep blue with a cluster of storm clouds in the distance. “I have to be honest with you, though. I doubt we’ll find anything up here.”

  “Why is that?” I watched as Miso immediately got to work sniffing the overgrowth.

  “I’m the one who found this place.” He pointed at himself. “I’ve combed this side of the mountain for years, and I haven’t noticed anything. Well, apart from an old outhouse up the road, but that thing is practically a pile of wood.”

  “You said the same thing about the silver mines, yet Ralph lived up there for weeks without you noticing,” I pointed out. “And you’re a tour guide. You must have passed his stuff quite a few times, and you didn’t even notice.”

  Joy covered her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

  “Ha-ha.” Wade shook his head. “This is different, Essie. I know these woods better than anyone.”

  “Why the outhouse?” I asked.

  “It’s like a hundred years old,” he argued.

  “So, it was built for the miners? Wade, there’s probably an old tunnel or something around here.” I secured Miso’s leash and started walking.

  “Duh.” Wade followed me. “Except there isn’t. I would have noticed.”

  I cringed at the sound of another breeze dancing through some nearby trees. I stuck to the dirt path. It got narrower and rockier the higher we climbed, which was why Wade never drove past his special camping spot. Every noise sent my mind into overdrive. Going back up the mountain had been more nerve-wracking than I’d expected. I couldn’t get the images of Patrick out of my head.

  Miso yanked at his leash. I debated whether or not to let him loose. Sometimes he behaved himself and other times I was afraid he might run off and forget how to get back to town. Each time had been a toss-up. I took a deep breath and unlatched Miso’s leash. He immediately ran ahead and began sniffing the bark of a tree in the distance.

  I balled my hands into fists when Miso started barking.

  The clearing was empty.

  “What is he doing?” Joy folded her arms and watched Miso as he continued to bark at tree after tree.

  “He’s gone nutty,” Wade said. “That dog is a reflection of all of us over the past few days. We’re all losing it and as much as I would like to growl at everyone in sight I can’t. I’m not a dog. I also can’t mark my territory in public.”

  “Wade, eww.” Joy rolled her eyes.

  “Miso, come on!” I shouted, but Miso didn’t budge. I focused on the side of Pinecliffe Mountain. If there were bighorn sheep roaming in the rocks, I couldn’t see them. “Miso!”

  “Still haven’t shelled out for those obedience lessons?” Wade snatched Miso’s leash and approached him carefully. The dog continued to bark as Wade knelt down to connect Miso’s collar to his lea
sh again, but before he could, Miso jumped, causing Wade to fall straight on his bottom. Joy laughed.

  “You’re doing great, babe.” She gave him a thumbs-up. Wade responded by holding up another finger—a gesture that wasn’t as friendly.

  Wade’s second attempt at securing Miso’s leash was successful. He shook his head as Miso went on barking. Wade pulled Miso away from his tree of choice, but a gust of wind made him pause. My stomach churned.

  “What’s he doing?”

  Joy shrugged. “Let’s go, babe. All this talk of secret tunnels and outhouses is starting to freak me out.”

  Wade didn’t move.

  And then I saw it—the thing that had made him pause.

  Movement on the other side of the thick tree trunk.

  It wasn’t a small furry creature.

  “Come on out,” Wade shouted at the massive cylinder of bark. “We know you’re there. We can see you.”

  A man stepped into view.

  “Cydney?” I blurted out. Miso jumped up and down, trying to get a scratch or a rub from the disgruntled detective.

  “Stupid dog,” Cydney said. “He’s going to blow my cover. And what are all of you doing here? Go home. It’ll be getting dark soon.”

  The sound of beeping rang through trees. Cydney reached behind his back, grabbed a walkie-talkie, and held it to his lips. The sheriff’s voice filled the clearing.

  “I see a pickup truck,” the sheriff said. “Hold your position. Over.”

  “I can’t,” Cydney said into the device. “I’ve greeted by the welcoming committee. Over.”

  “Take care of it and hold your position. This might be our only chance. Over.”

  Cydney grunted as he put his walkie-talkie away and waved at us to follow him.

  “You three need to get out of here,” he quietly instructed us. “I’m serious. You’re jeopardizing a very important mission here.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the sheriff’s little brother?” I asked.

  “How do you know about that?” Cydney took a deep breath. “Never mind how you know. The important thing is that you leave before you scare someone off.”

  “All right, back to Cam,” Wade replied, referring to his beloved Camaro.

  “Hold on.” Cydney held up a hand. “Where did you park?”

  Miso wagged his tail, licking Cydney’s slacks whenever he could.

  “The only place there is to park, Detective.” Wade stuck out his jaw. He had more to say. He always did when confronted by law enforcement, but he was already on thin ice.

  “You better hope that pickup truck doesn’t get scared off.”

  “My baby would never scare anyone off,” Wade insisted.

  A rumbling soared through the trees and Miso got distracted from trying to pry any attention he could get out of Cydney. Detective Keene hunched his shoulders, instinctively moving closer to the ground. He grabbed my arm and pulled me behind the nearest tree. He waved at Wade and Joy to do the same. They hid behind a tree next to us. I grabbed Miso’s mouth, hoping he would stay quiet for at least a few minutes.

  The rumbling stopped and a car door slammed. Footsteps moved through the dirt path we’d just walked on. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. The wheels in my head turned as I tried to piece together the puzzle that had been taunting me ever since the shootout and the sheriff’s warning to stay away from Ralph.

  A shadow moved through the trees.

  A man stepped into view.

  “Interesting,” Cydney whispered.

  Our mystery guest wasn’t Ralph or any of the gunslingers at the shootout. It was Emmett Brewer, Wade’s boss and part owner of the silver mines. Emmett wore his usual quilted vest over his plaid button-down. He quietly walked through the trees searching the woods the way we had just moments ago. He was looking for something. Or someone.

  This is going to end badly.

  Miso wiggled, trying to escape my grip. I resisted. He wiggled again, trying to open his mouth and shout hello to our new guest. I held him back as long as I could. Cydney glared at me, but it wasn’t any use. The muscles in my arms tightened. The wound on my shoulder stung, distracting me long enough for Miso to lunge forward and out into the open.

  His bark startled Emmett, and he automatically pulled out a gun.

  Cydney drew his gun too and aimed it at Emmett.

  “Put the gun down, Emmett.” Cydney’s stance was stiff. “Essie, radio the sheriff and tell him I need backup.”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong,” Emmett shouted back.

  “Then why are you here? Meeting up with your accomplice?” Cydney didn’t budge. “Lower your weapon!”

  “I’m innocent.” Emmett’s hands began to shake. He looked from side to side.

  “I’m warning you I’ll shoot.” Cydney took a step closer.

  Emmett shakily lowered his gun toward the grass.

  But as soon as the metal left his hands, he ran.

  “Miso!” I scolded as the little dog took off in pursuit.

  “Stop or I’ll . . .” Cydney lowered his gun and rolled his eyes. “Oh, why did you have to bring the dog? I was this close to catching him in the act.” He showed me just how much, leaving only a sliver of space between his thumb and pointer finger.

  “The act of what?” I narrowed my eyes as Cydney muttered his position into his radio.

  “Do you mean to tell me that my boss killed Dalton Dillweed?” Wade ran out from his hiding place. “That son of a—”

  “I’m not saying anything, kid.” Cydney slapped him on the shoulder as he jogged past him.

  I stared at Wade and Joy.

  “What are you waiting for?” Wade shouted. “That sleazebag tried to frame me.” He clenched his jaw. “And I even took the trash out this morning!”

  Wade sprinted, hot on Cydney’s heels. I couldn’t believe what was happening, but I followed. The sound of Miso barking rang through the trees. Emmett Brewer didn’t strike me as the killing type. They never do. But he was close enough to Wade to know the inner workings of his life—his address, his work hours, his likes and dislikes. The question lingering in my mind as I pumped my legs hard enough to keep up with Detective Keene was why. Had Emmett been targeting the mayor or had he meant to kill Dalton the bartender? Why did he do it?

  My heart pounded as another sound pierced the air like a jet engine airplane screeching through the atmosphere. It wasn’t Miso barking. It wasn’t screaming or shouting. It was something much more terrifying.

  It was a gunshot.

  I ran into Wade’s back as I reached another colorful meadow filled with wildflowers. Cydney was frozen with his gun in his hand. Miso stood in front of him still barking at Emmett, who had fallen into the thick brush. Another man was kneeling beside him—a man with a thick beard and camouflage jacket.

  Joy squeezed Wade’s hand.

  Wade took a step back, forcing Joy and me to back up with him.

  “He needs an ambulance!” the bearded man shouted. There was no mistaking that the man who had appeared out of nowhere—again—was Ralph Williams, the sheriff’s little brother. “Now, Officer!”

  “Detective.” Cydney forced out the words, regaining his usual demeanor. “Put your hands where I can see them.”

  “If I do that, Emmett might bleed to death,” Ralph yelled.

  “Ah, I can’t hear with all that barking.” Cydney grunted. “Essie, grab the mutt.”

  I focused on Miso and nothing else. The sight of Emmett on the ground reminded me too much of Patrick. My mind raced, and my cheeks felt hotter and hotter until I was sure my head was fiery enough to melt through a glacier.

  As much as I tried not to, I locked eyes with Ralph.

  I couldn’t read him at all. It was evident that he’d been involved in some kind of scheme resulting in murder. He might have even been the one who had stolen Wade’s rifle the night before Dalton had been shot. He’d proven that roaming the forest undetected wasn’t tricky. I knew in my heart he was guilty somehow
.

  But for some reason, it felt natural to trust him.

  Chapter 25

  Joy sighed and placed a plate of green stuff in front of me.

  “You’re cooking now?” I picked up my fork and casually moved aside a few mushy spinach leaves searching for an ingredient I recognized.

  “I’m trying to be helpful,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “What do you want from me? I don’t have a motherly bone in my body.”

  “Didn’t you used to brag about how good you are at ordering takeout?”

  “They never get my order wrong,” she said. “Never.”

  I’d been tense all day long waiting for news. Any news. News about Emmett, who had been rushed to the hospital and also announced as the sheriff’s top murder suspect. News about Patrick’s leg and the sort of recovery he had to look forward to after breaking his fibula and his tibia bones. I’d even hoped for news from the sheriff explaining his brother’s involvement in Dalton’s murder case.

  And more importantly, what Emmett and Ralph had been meeting about.

  I sat at my kitchen table with Miso at my feet, trying not to resort to eating myself into a sugar coma. The pieces of Dalton’s shattered puzzle didn’t fit right, despite what the sheriff had said to the public about the case being closed.

  “Do you think the sheriff is covering up for his brother?” The question left my mouth as quickly as my fork had left my hand.

  “Essie, stop it.” Joy sat down with her own plate of food and wrinkled her nose. “Wade is off the hook. That’s all that matters here. Don’t go looking for more trouble.”

  “I’m not.” I eyed Joy as she stabbed a piece of goat cheese and brought it to her mouth. Her attempt at cooking me dinner to help me de-stress hadn’t gone as planned. It was the thought that counted. And the fact that she’d surfed the web for a recipe to try.

  “This foodie blog I found is supposed to be top-rated,” Joy muttered. “This salad didn’t look like horse crap in the pictures.”

  “I think you’re supposed to use fresh spinach,” I suggested. “Not spinach from a can.”

  “Eww.” Joy nudged her plate aside, and I did the same. “Where’s Wade with those drinks?”