Confessing to the Cowboy (13 page)

He shook his head. “Never. It’s definitely deserted out there. It’s just me and the raccoons and deer. Why?”

“I was just thinking that I haven’t been out there to check on the other cottages for a while and maybe it’s time I did.” She grabbed her coat from a hook on the back door.

“You going now?” Rusty asked, around a mouthful of ham and cheese.

“Now is as good a time as any,” she replied. “I can get out there and check things before the snow moves in.”

“Want me to come along?”

Mary looked out the back door in the direction of the cabins. It was the middle of the day and Rusty had just told her he never saw anyone around. She felt perfectly safe just peeking in the windows to make sure that inside the cabins were in the same condition they’d been when she’d last seen them.

“No thanks, I’ll be fine. But if I’m not back in fifteen or twenty minutes, call the Sheriff,” she said jokingly.

As she stepped out into the frigid air she could smell the snow and thought she felt a couple of flakes on her face. The forecasters all indicated an early, harsh winter, which was bad for business. When the snow fell and travel was difficult, people stayed home to eat rather than venturing out.

She’d weathered many tough winters before and, God willing, she’d live to survive another. Hopefully Cameron and his team would keep everyone in town safe through the long, hard season. At least they’d had a busy breakfast and lunch so far that day because if the weathermen got it right, and the snow moved in for real, their dinner crowd wouldn’t amount to anything.

The cabins weren’t far from the back of the café and she had no creepy-crawling feeling that she was being watched or shadowed.

The cabins were set up like studio apartments, with a small kitchenette and a bathroom and one medium-sized room that served as both living room and bedroom.

Although each had its own key, Mary had never kept the empty cabins locked. There was nothing in there to steal, and while she didn’t mind somebody in need squatting there for a night or two, she needed to know if that was the case.

As she approached the first one the only thing she felt was sadness, for the first cabin was where Candy had been killed.

She peered through the window and saw the remnants of the crime-scene investigation that had taken place. Fingerprint dust still lingered on the few pieces of furniture that had been moved out of place as the deputies had sought clues. The bed was missing the top mattress and the whole cabin interior spoke of loss.

Candy’s family had come and picked up her personal items, so nothing of the young girl remained, only the scene of the crime.

Mary tried to tell herself that she wasn’t responsible for Candy’s death, that even if it was Jason behind the murders they could have happened to anybody in any town where Jason might have found her. But that didn’t stop Mary’s heart from filling with sadness.

In order to keep Jason from torturing her by hurting those she loved, she would have had to stay on the road, moving from place to place for the rest of her life, and that wouldn’t have been possible with Matt in tow.

Matt had needed a town, a place to call home. He’d needed stability and normalcy and he’d had that for the past eight years. She hoped he continued to have that and she prayed that nobody else would have to die, that Cameron and his deputies would find the guilty party and put him away for the rest of his life.

As she walked the short distance to the second cabin, the sky gave up more of its moisture and snowflakes began to fall in earnest, fat flakes from the steel sky.

She figured she’d take a quick peek into the windows of the other two empty cabins and then get back into the warmth and comfort of the café. With the snow band already moving in, the dinner rush would definitely be small.

When she got back inside she’d call Lynette and Ginger and tell them they could have the night off. There was no point running at full staff capacity if the crowd was going to be unusually small and by the look of the sky overhead things were only going to quickly deteriorate.

According to the weathermen they were expecting three to six inches of the white stuff between this afternoon and morning. If the forecast came true then tomorrow would be a slow day, as well. Hopefully with it being such an early snowfall it wouldn’t stick around too long and there would still be some nice days left in the month.

She reached the second cabin and frowned as she realized black curtains were drawn tightly closed across the windows. The cabins didn’t come with curtains...so who would have hung them here and drawn them completely shut?

Leaning close to the front door she placed her ear against the wood, but heard no movement inside, nothing to indicate that anyone was there. She remained that way for several minutes, but discerned no sound...nothing beyond the door.

Heart suddenly pounding, she placed her hand on the doorknob. It turned easily beneath her hand. So, whoever had hung the curtains hadn’t locked the door. But why the curtains, other than to keep prying eyes out?

What was it that might be inside that somebody wouldn’t want anyone else to see?

Once again she pressed her ear against the door, but heard nothing at all. She drew in a deep breath and opened the door. The room was in darkness and she immediately flipped on the switch that turned on the overhead light...and then let out a gasp.

An old gray sleeping bag was open on the threadbare sofa and a colorful throw rug decorated the beige linoleum floor. A table lamp sat at an odd angle on an upended orange crate, the shade broken. Cans of food were lined up on the counter next to a small microwave, but none of this was what made her heart nearly stop.

It was what was on the wall that made her gasp in horror. Tacked to the beige paint on one of the room’s wall were news clippings about the murders and pictures of all the victims.

Had she found Jason’s secret lair?

Was this where he’d been hiding out? In her very own backyard?

Her heart crashed the beat of horror as she backed up and hit the broad chest of somebody standing just behind her.

She whirled around and horror turned to shock. “Junior,” she exclaimed as she stared at the man she’d trusted as much as she’d trusted her own son.

Junior’s features screwed up as if he were about to cry. “Ah, Mary, now you’ve ruined everything,” he said in dismay.

Chapter 11

A
fter Denver’s interview, Cameron had every intention of bringing in Thomas Manning for a chat, but he’d discovered that Manning was out of town, back in Oklahoma City to attend a conference at the college where he’d once been a professor. He’d sent Ben Temple to follow the good professor and keep an eye on him while he was out of town.

Cameron had grabbed a quick lunch from a fast-food place at his desk, brought in by Larry Brooks, and then had decided to check in on Mary, afraid that if the snow came as predicted he wouldn’t be able to stop by to see her at closing time that night.

It was just after three when he left his office and headed for the café. As he drove, fat snowflakes splatted across his windshield, forcing him to turn on his wipers to see the road clearly.

He met little traffic on the way to the café. Hopefully most of the folks knew to stay at home when the weather turned bad, but he knew from experience that there were always some yahoos who decided snow and ice were the perfect time to test their driving skills.

When he reached the café, the parking lot was nearly empty and despite the fact that he was wishing Mary’s business ill, he hoped the lot stayed empty until the snowstorm passed and some of what had been forecasted had melted away. At least by morning the streets would be plowed by both city vehicles and ranchers with the appropriate tractors.

He parked in front and got out of his car, hurrying toward the door through the snowflakes. As he entered, he automatically hung his hat on a hook and looked toward the counter.

His favorite blonde wasn’t there. In fact, he didn’t see her anywhere in the café. Nobody was seated at any of the tables and he could hear Rusty’s voice as well as several female ones coming from the kitchen area.

He followed the voices to find Rusty and two waitresses chatting. “Hey, Sheriff,” Rusty greeted him.

Cameron nodded in return. “Where’s Mary?” he asked, not seeing her anywhere in the kitchen.

“She just went out back to the cottages to take a quick look around and make sure no vandals or squatters have moved in,” Rusty said. He gazed down at his wristwatch. “She’s only been gone a few minutes.”

“She went by herself?” Cameron asked, a tiny alarm sounding in the back of his head. He didn’t want her going off anywhere all alone.

He didn’t wait for a reply but instead stepped out the back door and sucked in his breath at the frigid snowy air that slapped him in the face. The snow was falling in earnest now, quickly covering the ground and obscuring visibility.

As he drew closer he immediately saw that the door to the second cabin was open and it was there he headed, his heart beating an unexpected rhythm of anxiety.

He should have thought about the cabins. Damn it, he should have thought that one of them might be a potential den for a madman. But with Rusty staying out here, he’d just assumed the others were vacant. Now he cursed that assumption.

When he got nearer he saw that dark curtains hung at the window and his heart beat a little quicker. He pulled his gun, an automatic habit when approaching an unknown situation.

He moved to make a sideways approach, not wanting to alert whoever was inside that he was there. He leaned against the building just outside the door, drew a deep breath and then whirled inside to see Mary standing in the middle of the room and Junior Lempke standing before her as if to block her exit.

Junior turned around, his eyes wide as his hands shot straight up in the air. “Don’t shoot me, Sheriff Cam, I ain’t done nothing wrong.”

Cameron met Mary’s gaze. She shrugged as if she didn’t have a clue what was going on. A quick sweep of the room chilled Cameron’s blood like the falling snow outside couldn’t possibly do.

The news clippings about the murders tacked to the wall stunned him. Junior? Junior Lempke? He hadn’t even been on the list of suspects.

“Does somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on here?” he demanded, not removing the barrel of his gun from the center of Junior’s body. Adrenaline fired through him with a heat that could melt the snow on the ground outside.

“I was out here checking on the cabins and noticed the curtains in this one. I’d just stepped inside when Junior showed up and now you’re here,” Mary said, her voice reflecting both relief and the same kind of stunned disbelief that Cameron felt.

Cameron turned his attention to Junior. “What’s going on, Junior. What have you done?” The young man standing before him would have been the last person Cameron would have thought capable of the crimes, but this place, the clippings, spoke of an obsession with the women who had been killed.

Too many serial killers liked to keep souvenirs of their crimes and the clippings and pictures on the wall could definitely be considered souvenirs.

Tears began to stream from Junior’s eyes. “My mom, she told me that I’d never be able to have a place of my own, that I’d always have to live with her. But this was my place, all by myself.”

Awkwardly he ambled over to the lamp and touched the broken shade. “I bought this with my own money at the thrift store, and I...I got the microwave at the same store. I can live here and turn on my lamp when it gets dark and cook in the microwave for myself and maybe have friends come over. My mom is wrong and I want to prove her wrong. I’m responsible and this is my place all to myself.” He jutted his chin forward, his eyes still gleaming with tears.

Cameron holstered his gun, his gut instinct telling him that Junior had no weapons on him, that he was harmless and harboring some misguided mission. He pointed to the wall with the clippings. “What’s that?” he asked.

Junior’s eyes once again filled with tears that spilled onto his cheeks. “That’s my sad wall. They were all my friends and now they are all gone. But I’m making a happy wall over there.” Junior pointed to the opposite wall and pulled a photo out of his coat pocket. “This is my first picture for my happy wall.” He handed the photo to Cameron.

It was a picture of Junior and Mary standing side by side at the picnic Mary had sponsored last summer for her staff. Junior stood tall and proud, and Mary’s face was wreathed with a smile that softened her features.

He handed the photo to Mary, who looked at it and released a deep sigh. It was obvious to him that Mary didn’t believe Junior had anything to do with the murders, either.

This was like when Cameron was twelve and Bobby was eleven and they’d gotten angry with their parents and had built an elaborate fort up in hay loft. They’d stocked it with cookies and fruit and decided they could live there alone for the rest of their lives.

Of course the rest of their lives had ended when darkness came, when the old barn had creaked and groaned and made frightening noises. That’s when they’d decided maybe sleeping in the house in their own beds wasn’t such a bad idea.

Junior had wanted his own fort, a place where he could pretend he was in charge and away from his overprotective mother. He’d wanted to feel normal...like a man.

Junior Lempke wasn’t the killer they sought. Cameron knew it in his gut. He completely believed Junior’s story. “Are you going to arrest me, Sheriff Cam?” Junior asked, his voice trembling like that of a young child’s. “My mom is really going to be mad at me if I end up in jail.”

“No, I’m not going to arrest you, Junior,” Cameron said and slid a glance to Mary, who nodded her head in agreement.

“But you have to get your things out of the cabin,” she said. “I can’t let you use this place, Junior.” She gazed toward the open door where the snow was falling in sheets of white. “You wait until this snow moves out and then you get your things from here and never come around the cabins again.”

Junior’s lower lip quivered. “Am I fired, Mary?”

Mary moved over to stand next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Of course you aren’t fired. What would I do without you, Junior? You help me keep the café running smoothly.”

Junior’s chest puffed out with pride and Cameron admired Mary’s compassion, her gentleness with Junior. “You need to get on home now,” Cameron said to the man. “I doubt if Mary is going to need you in the kitchen. The snow is going to keep everyone inside for the night.”

“Call me tomorrow, Junior, and I’ll see if I need you to come in to work,” Mary added.

Junior pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “Two is for Mary.”

“That’s right,” Mary replied.

“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow,” and with that Junior turned and ran out of the cabin.

Mary appeared to deflate, slumping down on the sofa atop Junior’s navy sleeping bag. “I stepped in here and knew I’d found Jason’s lair...right in my own backyard. My heart beat so hard it hurt and then I turned around to see Junior standing in the doorway. He told me I’d ruined everything and for one insane minute I thought he was the killer, and then you showed up.”

She reached over and attempted to straighten the lamp shade on the crooked lamp. “Poor Junior. He just wanted to feel normal, to have his own place without his mommy around.”

“Junior isn’t our killer,” Cameron said and sank down next to her on the sofa, instantly engulfed by the familiar raspberry scent of her. “But you got lucky because this could have been where the killer was staying. You could have walked inside this cabin and never left it again.” His heart filled his throat at the very thought. “You should have never come out here alone.”

“I know. I was foolish.” She looked at him and offered him a half smile. “Although I did tell Rusty that if I wasn’t back inside the café in twenty minutes to call you.”

“A lot of bad things could have happened to you in twenty minutes.” He took the strand of hair she twirled between two fingers and instead twirled it between his finger and thumb. Despite the circumstances she looked lovely with her cheeks pinked by the cold and her black winter coat making her hair appear almost as pale as the snow falling outside the cabin.

He so wanted to kiss her. When he’d walked into the cabin and had seen Junior standing in front of her and the wall filled with the news clippings, he’d thought about how easily he could lose her.

Dropping the piece of her hair, he leaned forward, wanting a kiss to assure himself she was really safe, but was surprised when she jumped up off the sofa and headed for the door. “We’d better get back to the café before we can’t find our way back.”

She had her back to him and he knew in his gut that she’d intentionally avoided his kiss. Maybe she regretted those moments they’d shared in her bed. He’d hoped the time they’d shared had been a beginning, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe it had simply been an awakening for her and there was no place in her future for him except as the local lawman. Maybe the truth of the matter was that he was simply a transitional man to her and nothing more.

He rose from the sofa. “Yeah, we should get back to the café. I forgot to leave breadcrumbs behind me and the snow is really coming down.”

Together they left the cabin and raced toward the café’s back door. By the time they reached the kitchen, they both looked like snowmen.

As they shook off the snow that covered them, Mary sent all her waitresses home but one for the night shift and then turned to Cameron.

“Thank you and now you’d better get out of here because I’m sure you’re going to have a busy night with the weather and everything else that’s going on,” she said as she walked with him out of the kitchen and into the main eating area.

He grabbed his hat from the hook on the wall, wanting to say something...needing to say something but unsure what it was. “Don’t be foolish again,” he finally said gruffly and then he walked out into the near-blizzard conditions.