sweetness of her demise.
CHAPTER TEN
V incent’s cell phone rang just as he finished the ham and biscuits he’d ordered in the lodge. Designed for hunters and vacationers, the oak-paneled walls held deer heads, along with stuffed trout, farm tools, hunting rifles, and photos of various hunters and fishermen showing off their prizes.
He’d requested a copy of the registry for the last six months to search for frequent visitors, out-of-towners, a name that might appear more than once or stand out. Maybe he’d find the killer here. He might be staying in the cabin next to him or in the lodge, sipping coffee this morning and enjoying the view, smug and thinking the police had no clue as to his identity.
His phone jangled again, and he checked the number, noted it was the sheriff, and connected the call while he gestured for his bill.
“Valtrez, it’s Waller.”
“Yeah?”
“Clarissa called and thinks there’s been another murder.”
Hell. He cursed, then tossed some cash on the table to cover the tab, slurped down another sip of coffee, and scraped his chair back from the table.
“Does she have a name?”
Waller sighed. “No, just that the girl screamed for help and she saw rattlesnakes.”
He crossed to the lobby, a massive space with a two-sided stone fireplace in the center.
“I know you wanted to question the family and friends of the other victims, too, so I called and they’re coming in at eight.”
“I’ll be right there.”
The waitress, a twentysomething brunette with a tattoo of a butterfly on her ankle, winked at him as she rushed by with fresh coffee to fill the bar beside the registration desk. “Hurry back, sugar.”
He offered her a slight smile, for a fleeting second contemplating taking her to bed. Last night’s hand job had left him less than satisfied, wanting more. He needed to assuage that ache, because the woman in his fantasy the night before wouldn’t end up in his bed.
Clarissa was too damn complicated, whereas the brunette had a fuck ’em and leave ’em kind of look, as if she’d been around. The kind of woman he used on a regular basis to quench his insatiable thirst for fleshy raw sex.
But he had pressing business to take care of, so he strode outside without setting a date.
Normally, even in summer, the mountain ridges offered shade and cooler temperatures, but today the blinding sun beat down on him, blasting him with heat so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he walked to his Land Rover and climbed in. He activated the GPS system and headed down the mountain into town, his gaze tracking the winding road into the forest. A doe paused to stare in his direction, and his gaze caught the animal’s, its eyes huge with innocence, yet a heartbeat later a hunter’s shot sounded in the air, and the deer scampered away in search of safety.
Neither man nor animal was safe in these mountains.
Deputy Bluster tossed the printed article about Valtrez on Waller’s desk. “Take a look at that. See who you’ve invited into our town.”
Sheriff Waller glanced up from his desk with a scowl and took a sip of his coffee. “What the hell is this about?”
“Just read it, Waller.”
The older man’s jowls shook as he worked his mouth from side to side, but he lowered his gaze and read the printout. “You think I didn’t know this?”
“You did, and you asked him here anyway?” Shock strained Bluster’s face. “For all we know, he killed his parents. And who’s to say he isn’t the one killing these women?”
Waller took another sip of coffee, then leveled a calm look at Bluster. “He was only ten when his parents disappeared, and the truth is, if he had killed his daddy, I wouldn’t have blamed him. That man was one mean SOB.”
“All the more reason to suspect he’d be just like him.”
Waller poked his tongue in his cheek. “Valtrez has an impeccable record as a closer. Besides, he was in Nashville when I phoned and
CHAPTER TEN
V incent’s cell phone rang just as he finished the ham and biscuits he’d ordered in the lodge. Designed for hunters and vacationers, the oak-paneled walls held deer heads, along with stuffed trout, farm tools, hunting rifles, and photos of various hunters and fishermen showing off their prizes.
He’d requested a copy of the registry for the last six months to search for frequent visitors, out-of-towners, a name that might appear more than once or stand out. Maybe he’d find the killer here. He might be staying in the cabin next to him or in the lodge, sipping coffee this morning and enjoying the view, smug and thinking the police had no clue as to his identity.
His phone jangled again, and he checked the number, noted it was the sheriff, and connected the call while he gestured for his bill.
“Valtrez, it’s Waller.”
“Yeah?”
“Clarissa called and thinks there’s been another murder.”
Hell. He cursed, then tossed some cash on the table to cover the tab, slurped down another sip of coffee, and scraped his chair back from the table.
“Does she have a name?”
Waller sighed. “No, just that the girl screamed for help and she saw rattlesnakes.”
He crossed to the lobby, a massive space with a two-sided stone fireplace in the center.
“I know you wanted to question the family and friends of the other victims, too, so I called and they’re coming in at eight.”
“I’ll be right there.”
The waitress, a twentysomething brunette with a tattoo of a butterfly on her ankle, winked at him as she rushed by with fresh coffee to fill the bar beside the registration desk. “Hurry back, sugar.”
He offered her a slight smile, for a fleeting second contemplating taking her to bed. Last night’s hand job had left him less than satisfied, wanting more. He needed to assuage that ache, because the woman in his fantasy the night before wouldn’t end up in his bed.
Clarissa was too damn complicated, whereas the brunette had a fuck ’em and leave ’em kind of look, as if she’d been around. The kind of woman he used on a regular basis to quench his insatiable thirst for fleshy raw sex.
But he had pressing business to take care of, so he strode outside without setting a date.
Normally, even in summer, the mountain ridges offered shade and cooler temperatures, but today the blinding sun beat down on him, blasting him with heat so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he walked to his Land Rover and climbed in. He activated the GPS system and headed down the mountain into town, his gaze tracking the winding road into the forest. A doe paused to stare in his direction, and his gaze caught the animal’s, its eyes huge with innocence, yet a heartbeat later a hunter’s shot sounded in the air, and the deer scampered away in search of safety.
Neither man nor animal was safe in these mountains.
Deputy Bluster tossed the printed article about Valtrez on Waller’s desk. “Take a look at that. See who you’ve invited into our town.”
Sheriff Waller glanced up from his desk with a scowl and took a sip of his coffee. “What the hell is this about?”
“Just read it, Waller.”
The older man’s jowls shook as he worked his mouth from side to side, but he lowered his gaze and read the printout. “You think I didn’t know this?”
“You did, and you asked him here anyway?” Shock strained Bluster’s face. “For all we know, he killed his parents. And who’s to say he isn’t the one killing these women?”
Waller took another sip of coffee, then leveled a calm look at Bluster. “He was only ten when his parents disappeared, and the truth is, if he had killed his daddy, I wouldn’t have blamed him. That man was one mean SOB.”
“All the more reason to suspect he’d be just like him.”
Waller poked his tongue in his cheek. “Valtrez has an impeccable record as a closer. Besides, he was in Nashville when I phoned and
Similar Books
