Traveling Town Mystery Boxset Page 5

  Will leaned forward, his cot squealing in protest. “Come now, Sheriff. You don’t really think I’d do anything to hurt Kay, do you?”

  “Doesn’t matter what I think.”

  “You’ve known me for—what—eight years? Nine?”

  “Doesn’t matter, Will. If you’re innocent, I’ll let you out. Gotta treat you the same as everyone else.”

  Ella struggled off the flimsy cot. It was so low to the ground, she fell back onto the thin fabric. With a grunt, she rolled off, rather clumsily, but she recovered with a flourish and bounced to her feet. Will cocked an eyebrow.

  After smoothing out an invisible wrinkle, she strode to the bars. “What about me? What reason could I possibly have for hurting Kay?”

  “Dunno. But you’re a stranger here. And I don’t like new people in my town.”

  “Yeah, I noticed the sign posted outside of town.” She squeezed her hands into fists then forced the tension out. “News flash, if you don’t want people passing through, then maybe you shouldn’t live in a town that’s right off the highway.”

  His face flickered with an emotion she couldn’t identify before it turned to stone again.

  “Come on, Sheriff,” Will said. “There’s nothing untoward happening here. Miss Barton has nothing to do with what happened. Neither of us do.”

  Ella spoke out of the side of her mouth. “I appreciate the support, but call me Ella.”

  “Noted.” Will slipped off the cot and climbed to his feet with an agility that made her jealous.

  His fingers curled around the bars and framed his face as he pleaded with Chapman. “We tried to save Kay. What reason would I have to hurt her?”

  “Come on, William. It’s no secret that you were mad about the breakup.”

  Will’s knuckle’s turned white, and his voice dropped. “That was a year ago.”

  Sheriff Chapman folded his fingers and turned his attention to Ella. “What are you doing in Keystone Village, Miss Barton? We’re not on a map, so you ain’t—what’s it called? Sightseeing.”

  “My car broke down. Actually, it crashed. Lou’s fixing it.”

  “He say how long it’ll take?”

  She shook her head. “Not yet. He was supposed to tell me as soon as he had a look.” She leaned into the bars and shot him the smile she reserved to get free appetizers at her favorite restaurant. “But maybe if you let me out, I can ask him.”

  “Nice try,” he grunted. Her smile evaporated.

  Reaching across his desk, the sheriff snatched up an old rotary phone and spun the dial a few times. “Lou? Sheriff Chapman. There’s a lady here claiming you got her car.”

  Ella clenched her jaw at the word “claiming.” Like she would lie about her car needing fixed.

  Chapman kept the receiver pressed to his ear and listened to the small, tinny voice on the other end before saying, “Yes. Checks out, then. How long?” His mustache turned down, and a crevice formed between his brows. “That’s a problem.” After a couple more grunts, he hung up.

  “Ol’ Lou says about two days. Has to replace the front axle shaft and will have to adapt one he’s got on hand.”

  The prognosis of her vehicle and the fact that she’d be in Keystone two more days felt like a punch to Ella’s gut. “Can’t he just order a new part from Bend or Salem?” She’d even pay the extra cost to ship the part overnight if she had to.

  “Can’t.”

  Ella frowned. She opened her mouth to ask why not, but the sheriff cut her off.

  “Believe me. I’m not happy about it either.” His eyes darkened, and he leaned forward in his chair. “Seems your best option is to trade your vehicle in for one of Lou’s. And leave tonight.”

  Ella’s first instinct was to tell him to go eat his own mustache. She loved her jeep. But something about the intensiveness in his voice made her churn over his words. “Does that mean you’ll release me? You believe me?”

  “Believe is a strong word. But out of the two of you”—he jerked his head at Will —“he’s got more motive for wanting Miss Bradford dead.”

  Will threw his hands up. “But I didn’t—”

  “Hobble your lip, Will.”

  Ella’s feelings raced between overwhelming relief and sympathy towards the handsome man in the cell next to her.

  The sheriff stretched out of his chair to his full height, jangling a ring of skeleton keys from his desk. Picking a rather large, dark one, he waved it in Ella’s face.

  “Here’s the deal. You trade your car for something that runs and leave town tonight, and I’ll let you out.”

  Ella bit her lower lip. She had sunk a lot of money into her jeep, even putting new tires on three months prior. However, if it was between trading in her car or being holed up in a jail cell, there was no contest.

  Slowly, she nodded. “Yeah, fine. I’ll leave.”

  Chapman jammed the old key into the lock. It clicked, and he tugged open the door for her. “You’re free to go, then. And Miss Barton, I’ll be watching to make sure you leave Keystone.”

  Ella’s mouth felt dry as she nodded. While she scurried out of the holding cell, the rotary phone on the sheriff’s desk rang loudly, startling her. Chapman scooped up the receiver. Ella scooted towards the front door, unsure if she could just walk out.

  “What?!“ Chapman’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he growled, “That mudsill. Blowhard. Dirty outlaw…” His nostrils flared. “Be right there.”

  He slammed the phone down and shoved his hat over his gray hair. His boots pounded an angry rhythm, and he marched past Ella and out the door. It banged against the brick before returning to rest in its frame a degree more ajar than it had been a moment before.

  “Uh…” Ella stared at the door and felt the cold air linger. She glanced at Will, still locked up in his cell. “So, I guess I’ll just leave, then?”

  Some of the sadness had left his eyes, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. “You sure? I was thinking of starting a card game.”

  “Wow, I’d hate to miss that.”

  The levity of the moment quickly faded, and a heavy silence filled the room. Ella glanced at the desk drawer that held the jail key.

  “Don’t do it,” he said.

  She took a breath and turned away from the temptation. “Look, I know we just met and haven’t even been properly introduced, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for your loss, and I believe you.”

  He gave her a tired smile. “Thanks.” One of his hands threaded through the bars. “William Whitehall.”

  She gripped the outstretched hand, feeling callouses brush her palm. “Ella Barton.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Miss Barton—”

  “Ella.”

  “Right. I suggest you leave now, Ella, while you still can.” His tone turned heavy with warning.

  “Fair enough.” She crept towards the front door. “Well, it’s been… well, let’s not do this again. Good luck, Will.”

  After one last glance, she slipped out onto the cold street. She sucked in a breath of freedom and tasted the coming snow—the smell much improved over the cot inside.

  The sun had dipped behind the two hills, bathing the sky in a dusky, dull yellow. Street lamps flickered on, spilling amber glows over the snow.

  Ella wrapped her arms around herself and trudged through the antique village, reliving the day’s events. Lights twinkled over the lake from distant street lamps and cottage windows, but she couldn’t fully appreciate the beauty.

  Some poor, young woman had lost her life today. Someone’s daughter. Someone’s friend. Her heart broke for Kay’s family, and she began to wonder more about what had killed the waitress. Ella was no expert on death, but the incident had seemed such a strange way to die.

  Could the poison oak rash be covering up a rash caused by an allergic reaction? The coroner hadn’t seemed to rule out the possibility. Then again, Kayline hadn’t shown any other symptoms of anaphylaxis.

  And what about the hallucinations? Did t
hat strange device Will had given Kayline have something to do with this? She’d been so quick to dismiss the man as a suspect, but it did seem too coincidental that a few minutes after giving her the small, metallic contraption, the waitress fell dead.

  A dark figure jumped out of the alley in front of Ella. She jumped and screamed. The shadow clamped a hand over her mouth.

  “Whoa, easy there, darlin’.”

  Ella caught a whiff of stale tobacco and hay before the figure dragged her into the shadows of the alley. She struggled against the sinewy arms of her captor. The glow from the nearest street lamp pierced the darkness just enough for her to make out a cowboy hat and a sharp, angular jaw.

  It was the cowboy she’d bumped into just outside the diner. Ella remembered the name Kay had called him, and when the rough hand moved from her mouth, she yelled, “Jesse! What—”

  “Don’t call me that. Name’s Six Shooter. Six for short.”

  “Yeah, I’m not calling you that.”

  “But that’s my name.”

  “Still not saying it.”

  He gave her a rough spin so she faced him, only he didn’t take into account her lack of balance, and she heaved into his chest, hitting her chin hard on his sternum.

  “Ow! What’d you do that for, woman?”

  Ella rubbed her chin, sure it was going to bruise. “Well, that’s what you get for abducting me.”

  “Who’s addicting—”

  “Abducting.”

  “Who’s abdicating—“

  “Close enough.”

  “—you?”

  “You are.”

  The confusion in his face melted, and a gleam took root as if she’d given him the greatest idea.

  Ella cringed inwardly and took a minuscule step back. “What’d you want, Jesse? I’m having a pretty bad day, and if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to go back to the inn now.” And burn her clothes before packing. She still smelled the stains from the cot.

  He flashed a smile. “You gonna thank me?”

  “For…?”

  “For savin’ you,” he said.

  Ella lowered her eyebrows in confusion.

  He sighed. “It was me that called the sheriff.” His voice changed, pitching up and affecting a poorly done accent. “‘Someone’s been messing with my cattle. They’re loose in the orchards.’ That was me.” His eyes danced with pride.

  “Well, thanks. I appreciate the gesture. Topnotch thinking, really. But your timing’s off. He’d just let me out of my cell.”

  While she’d been talking, she’d inched back, putting more air between them, as much for the ability to flee as to stop smelling him. Her olfactory senses had had just about all they could handle.

  “Just out of curiosity,” she continued, “how did you plan on getting me out of that cell after you lured him away?”

  His hand plunged into his sweatshirt. Ella flinched, her legs coiled, ready to run.

  Six produced a crude reproduction of a key. “Took the liberty of makin’ myself a copy since I spend so much time in there.”

  “Good Lord, did a toddler carve that out of crayon?” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, makes sense. Of course, you could just stop doing the things you get locked up for, but where’s the fun in that, right?”

  His expression said he’d missed the sarcasm in her tone.

  Slipping past him, she stepped onto the sidewalk, her boots crunching in the snow.

  “Night, Jesse.” She danced out of reach before he could grab her again.

  He remained in the shadows, a silhouette with a voice. “Night, darlin’.”

  Ella cringed and stared back into the alley. “If you don’t want me calling you Jesse, then don’t call me darling.”

  A light flickered as he lit a match, catching it on a rolled cigarette that hung between his lips. “No promises.”

  Too tired to deal any more with the cowboy, she shook her head and shuffled towards the inn. It was getting late, and to keep her deal with the sheriff, she would need to visit Lou, trade her car in, pack, and leave—all by tonight.

  Fitting in a quick shower wouldn’t hurt either, she decided. But first, she wanted to change clothes.

  Ella stepped into Keystone Inn, and warm air and soft light welcomed her. She pulled the scent of cinnamon and apple into her lungs and fought the hunger pains in her stomach.

  Her to-do list re-prioritized. After she changed, she’d grab a quick snack from the kitchen—if she could locate it in the mansion. Then, she would trade her car in.

  After throwing her jacket onto the coat tree and kicking off her boots, she whisked into the entrance hall. Rose stood behind the check-in counter, scratching a pencil in a book.

  “Oh, Ella! There you are. I was getting worried. You missed dinner.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I was… busy.” She didn’t feel like retelling what had happened again for the umpteenth time that day. Her eyes flitted to the cherry wood flooring, and the memories crashed back in. She moved towards the staircase.

  “Did you hear about what happened?” Rose’s pale skin turned ashen, and she glanced in the direction of the diner next door. “Poor Kay. She was such a sweet thing.” Reaching into her dress pocket, she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed behind her cat eye glasses. “Oh, Wink’s going to be heartbroken.”

  Ella watched her from the bottom of the stairs, teetering between comforting her and following the sheriff’s order to high-tail it out of Dodge. “Did you know her well? Kay, I mean.”

  “Yes, we were good friends. When she and her father arrived in Keystone a few years back, she felt so alone. She had a hard time adjusting to life here and needed a friend. We’d drifted apart the last couple of years, but Kayline was like a younger sister to me.”

  Ella abandoned the stairs and draped an arm around Rose’s shoulders. “How come you weren’t as close recently, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Rose’s crimson lips quivered. “Oh, I don’t know. This was about a year and a half back, so the details are a bit fuzzy, but she withdrew. She seemed to have a great weight on her. But whenever I asked, she wouldn’t open up.

  “When people stay closed off like that, going through things alone, it eats them up. That’s why I was grateful when she started dating Will. Then, they broke up. I just didn’t know how to help, anymore.”

  Ella squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sure she knew you were there if she ever needed you. Sometimes, that comfort alone is all a person needs.”

  When Rose had composed herself, Ella slipped upstairs to change. As her hand glided up the banister, the innkeeper called up to her.

  “Forgot to tell you. Lou called looking for you. Said your car would be ready in a couple days.” A smile lit her face. “Looks like you’ll be staying here a while.”

  Ella shot her a wan smile before trudging up the stairs. She would say goodbye after she got back from Lou’s.

  Edwin passed her at the top of the stairs, and they exchanged quick pleasantries before parting. He seemed in as much of a rush as she was. She briefly wondered where the elderly gentleman was off to in such a hurry at eight o’clock in the evening.

  After shutting the door to her room, Ella collapsed on her four-poster bed, telling herself, she’d rest for five minutes then change and head back out. In less than a minute, darkness pulled her down into a deep sleep full of cowboys and dead bodies.

  CHAPTER 6

  LARGE FLAKES OF snow drifted past Ella’s window in a weak, morning light. She yawned and stretched.

  The inn was old, and heat seemed to struggle to reach her room, putting her in no hurry to leave the warm cocoon she’d created in the feather comforter.

  After snuggling in deeper, the events of the previous day drifted back, ending with the sheriff’s deal for her to leave town.

  Leave town.

  Ella bolted upright and scrambled to disentangle herself from the sheets. She was supposed to be out of town. Last night.

  “Crap, crap, crap.�
� She shuddered to think what the sheriff would do when he found out she was still in Keystone.

  She tore open her backpack. She had yet to retrieve the rest of her luggage from her car. Most of the clothes peeking out of the bag had already been worn while staying at her parents’ place for Thanksgiving, so her selection of clean attire was limited.

  She pulled out a fresh t-shirt and tugged on her only other pair of jeans. The ones from the previous day were wadded up on the floor. She kicked them to the corner so she wouldn’t forget they were dirty and to pack them last. Her snow boots were down by the front door.

  Grabbing her phone, she checked the bars again: still no service.

  The scenery outside her second-story window caught her eye. The white blanket sheeting everything had grown fat through the night. Thick flakes continued to fall, reminding Ella of Christmas, fires, and warm cookies.

  Her gaze drifted right, in the direction of the park. That part in her brain tickled again that something she was seeing wasn’t quite right. Ella shook off the feeling and bolted for the door.

  She gripped the banister of the wide staircase, noting the scent of coffee and cinnamon rolls wafting up. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, torn between seeing Lou and the delicious smell.

  She glanced at her watch. Surely it was too early for the crusty mechanic to be up and in his shop? Would the sheriff come bursting into the inn, checking to see if she’d left yet?

  Ella chewed her lip. In the end, she decided that his hands had to be full dealing with Kayline’s death.

  And like a sailor being lured by a siren, Ella followed her nose to the promise of breakfast.

  If this ends up being one of those scented candles, I’m going to be really pissed.

  She had just rounded the corner in the hallway right before the dining room when she bumped into a plump figure with a mountain of frosted hair reminiscent of the snow-covered hills outside.

  “Oh, sorry, Flo. I didn’t see you.”