Shephard (Mountain Men of Danger Falls #1)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

S hephard

Beautiful.

Sinful.

Infuriating.

I could think of other words to describe the feisty chick who’d all but accosted me in the hardware store. However, I’d enjoyed our encounter a little too much. That’s one reason I hated being out in public, but it was necessary. While I was here enduring what I called my prison term, at least I could enjoy some of what the tiny town had to offer.

Or I could hogtie assholes who pissed me off. The jury was still out.

With her, I wouldn’t mind tying her to my bed. My balls tightened from the thought.

Enough of craving something I couldn’t have. It was time to face the music, as my father would say.

I parked the truck in the employee parking area of the resort, which was designated nicely. I’d driven around the entire resort, more impressed with the setting and the condition of the buildings than I’d thought I’d be.

While I understood from my mother, who’d called twice, that my brothers were also back in town, I’d yet to catch sight of them. I had no idea of their itinerary and that was fine by me. Today was about getting a lay of the land and nothing more.

Tomorrow would need to be business as usual.

Whatever the fuck that meant.

There were at least a dozen good qualities about the Foxhead Winery and Resort, the winery considered a star player given its success, but the most impressing to me was the setting.

And the view.

The resort was perched on a lower part of one of the mountain ranges, the view of the valley below spectacular. There was a very active river that ran through one of the hiking areas, picnic tables and pavilions in perfect positions. There was even a trellis and gazebo with a nearly perfect lawn, which I was certain was used for weddings. With the two ballrooms and the chefs hired to provide incredible food, the resort could be considered a destination point.

There was also a stunning lake on the property, at least according to the plans. Between the rough river and the lake, summer tourists could be equally thrilled as were those coming here to ski and enjoy the four huge hot tubs in the winter months.

The brochure was vivid in color, the photographer having done an amazing job. It had to have cost a significant amount of money. At least the financials reflected the money spent on marketing.

Yet something nagged at me. An underlying feeling my father was hiding something. There was no outward reason for my thoughts, but I’d had them since I was a teenager.

Our world in Montana had been a cautious one, something most people wouldn’t have noticed. I’d always had a feeling we weren’t who I was told we were.

Maybe I was nuts, but the nagging had increased after agreeing to this charade.

While I had a feeling the cat was out of the bag regarding my father’s decision, today I would do nothing but walk around the entire interior. I didn’t write notes. I didn’t need to. I had a photographic memory.

If I was asked questions, I wasn’t certain how I’d handle it.

After climbing out, I took a deep breath. Today wasn’t a great day, but there was nothing I could do.

As I headed for the main entrance, it was impossible not to notice the huge volume of vehicles in the parking lot. I was curious as to the number of paying guests as opposed to those here for a day of kayaking and swimming, hiking and mountain climbing. My guess was the guests could be unruly.

Not something I was good at handling. I was a rough man all the way around.

As I walked in, I was struck by the good feeling the atmosphere provided. Maybe I didn’t know what I was talking about, but the cathedral ceiling and expansive windows allowed for extensive lighting, dark foliage and comfortable-looking furniture providing a welcoming atmosphere.

My father had some clue of what he was doing in running the resort. Or he’d paid an expert to provide him with ideas.

Either way, at least I didn’t feel as if I was walking into a money losing project.

As soon as I’d made it close to the reservation desk, my initial stop, reporters came out of nowhere.

“Mr. Fox. Can I ask you a few questions?”

“Mr. Fox. Why did your father really give up the resort?”

Fuck. The questions were coming from all directions.

Over the years anonymity was something I’d considered a weapon. I’d all but disappeared when I’d become a mercenary, my past protected by the organization who’d hired me. Even my fingerprints and social security number were considered classified. They still were even after leaving the group.

The cloak of darkness had kept me alive more than once.

It was the last question that pulled me into a violent moment. Maybe I’d regret it later.

Maybe I wouldn’t.

“Mr. Fox. Isn’t it true there are some repulsive criminals looking to hunt down your father, a man who used to work with them?” He’d kept his voice down, as if offering me the grace of asking me the question prior to announcing it to the world.

“What did you say?”

“Is your father in hiding?”

I turned slightly, narrowing my eyes. What the fuck was the guy getting at?

As several reporters advanced like vultures, sticking microphones in my face as they called out not only questions but my legal name, I reacted.

Or some would say I overreacted.

The poor, dumb asshole who was the most aggressive was the recipient of my initial fury and aggression.

I punched him in the face.

Denise

Dead bodies had never fazed me in the least. I’d seen more than I could remember.

But there was something extremely morbid about being inside a morgue. Typically, a movie or television show depicted certain locations, including squad rooms of police departments, as dull and dingy places where no one would want to work.

It was true, at least about the older building housing the morgue and three different offices in this case. However, on the floor above was a nature sanctuary, which struck me in a strange way.

I’d been in the facility on one other occasion and for the very same reason. A dead body. She’d argued with me upon our first meeting, insisting the victim had been mauled by a bear. I’d fought her final report, but to no avail.

Then she’d called me afterwards, expressing her very tight-lipped concern. Without providing detail, I’d followed the dots. She’d been coerced into her findings.

That had been a reminder that even the law could be manipulated.

“Stay here, girl. I’ll be a few minutes. The windows are down; don’t kill anyone while I’m gone.” For obvious reasons, Pepper wasn’t allowed inside the morgue. She huffed and thumped down on the seat, acting as if I’d been dejecting her for months.

Drama queen.

Maggie’s name was listed on her partially open office door as I passed. I had to wonder how many visitors she had. Visiting her here wasn’t on my bucket list of good times.

I’d chosen to come here first, delaying beating the crap out of Cane. But that was coming.

My footsteps echoed on the tile floor, just like they would in a movie. While the corridor wasn’t freezing cold, I was still shivering. I thought I’d gotten away from this part of my job.

As I walked in through the double doors, I was taken aback by the stench. It wasn’t of death or even embalming fluid, but of cleaning supplies. Too many of them. I’d witnessed her incessant need to clean months before. I still wondered how she slept at night.

She had on special glasses that held a small light on the nose bridge. At least there was a skylight in the room, but on a cloudy day, that wouldn’t cut through the dinginess.

Maggie was concentrating, talking into the attached microphone she was wearing while issuing notes written by her young assistant. It was a sight that I honestly wanted to remember for a long time. Maybe that had given me the will to live when at times, I’d gotten mired into the blood and gore of my job years before. The mauled victim was only a few feet away, his chest cracked open, and she was actively weighing and removing intestines. After thirty seconds, I was forced to look away.

“You still can’t stomach the work.”

Maggie’s words weren’t said in a taunting manner. After our initial confrontation, we’d shared close to a bottle of tequila while comparing notes on our respective chosen careers.

“I thought I moved onto greener pastures.”

She lifted her head. “So did I. Life has an ugly way of not allowing you to forget your past.”

“Great. Thanks for the reminder. Have you found anything?” I’d already provided my two cents worth, including that I believed the man had been mauled by a dog, not a bear or a bobcat.

She said something to her assistant and turned on the light, moving away from the body as the young girl headed out of the room. I couldn’t blame her for scurrying. As she walked closer, she removed her bloody gloves, tossing them in one of four trashcans in the room. “The poor guy suffered prior to finally succumbing to his injuries.”

“How so?”

“He was beaten, including with blunt objects. He had all identifying markers removed, including his fingerprints, and something you didn’t notice. He had all his teeth pulled.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” That hadn’t occurred with the first victim.

Maggie sighed. “Exactly, but from what I can tell, he was still hanging on by a thread, even after he was stabbed six times, only to face the jaws of a mammoth beast.”

The woman did enjoy the macabre more than most people. I just glared at her.

She laughed. “Lighten up.”

“This is the second murder in three months. It’s a little tough to lighten up.”

“You’re still convinced the two are connected.”

“I am. Aren’t you?” I glanced at the body again, trying to figure out how someone could endure such savagery.

“Well, without the benefit of having the second body here, I can’t confirm your belief completely. But from the notes, I tend to agree with you.”

Now she’d piqued my interest. “How so?”

She seemed hesitant to talk. Did she think the morgue was bugged?

“In studying my notes, I had managed to save some of the animal hairs embedded in the previous victim’s skin. I’d considered the findings inconclusive before, but after comparing the fur retrieved from this victim, I’m altering the previous report, at least on my end. I don’t know how the sheriff will feel about it. Before you ask: There are a few other similarities, but whoever did this had even more of an ax to grind. It was as if the violence doubled. That much you can see from the photographs.”

It wasn’t unheard of for a killer to alter his methods as he or she grew more confident, but this seemed like a revenge or punishment situation like the first one had. Rage was evident. Perhaps betrayal was the reason. Now I was speculating, which wasn’t in anyone’s best interest.

A moment of excitement shifted through me, which some would consider ridiculous. And crass as hell. “Meaning?”

She walked closer, folding her arms and ignoring the fact she had blood covering her apron. “Meaning your current victim was mauled and ultimately killed by a dog.”

“You’re certain.”

“I’m positive.”

“Any idea what breed?” Not that it mattered.

“Not without doing further tests,” she said.

“What else can you tell me about the victims? Anything concrete?”

As she motioned to me, I hesitated to follow her, but it was my job. Fortunately, she only had to lift the sheet covering the lower portion of his torso including a small portion of his right arm that hadn’t been nearly bitten off. “Both had the same tattoo.”

It was something she hadn’t shown me from the first victim, but it wouldn’t have necessarily come into play at that point. I slid my jacket and shirt up to my elbow, showing her the same tattoo. “Both were Marines.”

Maggie lifted her eyebrows. “Maybe that doesn’t mean anything.”

“It’s a connection. Send me a copy of this report and your revised one when you can.”

“I will. What do you think is going on here? I’ve lived here for almost four years and nothing like this has ever happened before.”

“I wish I knew.”

What I did know was that after two murders with similar evidence, Danger Falls had an issue on their hands. I wouldn’t call the person responsible a serial killer yet, but I was nervous about the future.

Now it was time to break the news to Greg. He would need to face the facts. We had a horrific situation on our hands and could need additional support.

But that was only after confronting Cane.

“Thanks for taking the extra time, Maggie. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. I have no life anyway. Just like you. We should go out for drinks sometime.”

“Yeah, we will.” Although at this rate, I wondered when that could be.

My office was a little larger than a postage stamp, but it was perfect for me. There was enough room for me to get around, a single visitor to spend about two minutes, and a dog’s bed for Pepper. I filled up the water bowl that stayed in the office and took a deep breath. Pepper knew to take a nap, learning my moods years before. I was still pissed. Plus, I wasn’t eager to talk to Greg.

With him on the phone, I had to wait. He had a habit of keeping a television on at all times, the constant news programs getting on my nerves, but at least he knew what was going on within a seven-county radius. We also had satellite radio, and communications systems connected with all the local tourists’ outlets. If anyone went missing, we could hear within seconds.

“I understand, Marty. But tourists are allowed on the property next to you because it’s owned by the resort. Now, I suggest you not do what you did last year and shoot off your weapon. I’ll be forced to arrest you this go-around if you do.” Greg rubbed his eyes.

We had our share of crazies who wanted nothing to do with tourism. At times, I couldn’t blame them. There were months the streets and bars were crowded beyond capacity.

“No, Marty. You’re wrong. We’ve been through this before.”

I wasn’t patient, tapping my fingers on the door often enough he became annoyed.

“I need to go, Marty. Someone is pounding on my office door.”

My impatience worked, the man slamming down his old-fashioned office phone.

“What the hell?” he barked.

I walked in, closing the door behind me. I’d noticed out of the corner of my eye Cane studying me from his office as I walked in. The boy better be shaking in his boots.

“What are you so damn fired up about? Last night?” Greg asked. The man was so low key, at times I was shocked he had a heartbeat.

“Yes, last night. We have a tremendous and dangerous situation here. The victim was brutally murdered and dumped just outside our city.”

“I read your initial report, Denise. But we can’t jump to conclusions.”

“I’m not jumping to any conclusions since the ME confirmed the first two victims were mauled by a dog.”

He narrowed his eyes, as usual exhaustion keeping his eyes rimmed in red. “And that means what? You know how shitty people are with their animals. The first case is already out of my hands anyway.”

It was rare when a dog, including those considered violent, were able to take down a two-hundred-pound man. “If you read the report then you understand. But wait until you have Maggie’s full report.”

“Well, I guess I’ll wait.” He was being sarcastic. Why did I have a feeling someone had chewed out his ass?

I wanted to argue with him, but a news report popped onto the screen and the bulletin in red caught our attention.

“Killer in Danger Falls.”

What. The. Fuck?

I listened to about thirty seconds of the repulsive reporter cooing over the fact we had excitement in the town, a killer amongst us before taking long strides out of Greg’s office into Cane’s.

Without saying a word, I jerked him to his feet by his shirt collar, twisting the material until he coughed. At that point, I let my anger fly in every color of the rainbow.

I punched him hard across the nose, enjoying the cracking sound as blood spewed all over my nice clean shirt.

It was worth it.