Mountain Sheriff

By B.J. Daniels

A small town cop’s heart is on the line when the woman he loves from afar is in danger in this romantic suspense from a New York Times–bestselling author.

Trouble always accompanied the rainy season.

Rain and isolation could make folks crazy in these parts. Sheriff Mitch Tanner—the most eligible bachelor in the county—would have his hands full for sure. Bigfoot sightings and sundry strange happenings he could handle . . . but he wasn’t prepared for murder. With a killer on the loose, he’d have to keep a tight grip on the investigation and a close eye on the mounting list of suspects.

Unfortunately, the person causing the most trouble to his male senses was none other than the town’s biggest gossip and the one woman he’d do anything to avoid: Charity Jenkins. Sure enough, she’d whittled away at his confirmed-single status with her annoying questions and all-American-girl good looks and had him thinking about something more permanent . . .

Except a killer had other plans for Charity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Open Road Integrated Media
• Release date: Apr 7, 2010
• ISBN: 9781426861703

B.J. Daniels

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author B.J. Daniels lives in Montana with her husband, Parker, and two springer spaniels. When not writing, she quilts, boats and always has a book or two to read. Contact her at www.bjdaniels.com, on Facebook at B.J. Daniels or through her reader group the B.J. Daniels' Big Sky Darlings, and on twitter at bjdanielsauthor.

Book preview

Chapter One

Tuesday, October 27

Darkness pressed against the window. Beyond the glass, something moved at the edge of the tangle of growth.

Under the glow of the desk lamp, Nina Monroe feathered the paint along one side of the wooden duck decoy.

She’d forgotten she was alone in the isolated Dennison Ducks decoy plant. Nor had she noticed how late it was. Her mind had been on her future.

For the first time in her twenty-seven years of life, her future looked good. Not just good. Dazzling. Almost blinding. Sometimes she had to pinch herself it was so hard to believe. Soon she would have everything she’d ever wanted. Soon she wouldn’t be painting duck decoys in the middle of nowhere, that was for sure.

A voice in her head warned her not to count her chickens before they’d hatched. The voice was that of her old-maid aunt Harriet and she shut it out, just as she had all of her life. Aunt Harriet the doomsayer.

After tonight, Nina would finally have what she deserved. It had been a long time coming. She smiled at the thought of blowing this dinky boring town knowing she’d never look back, never even give Timber Falls, Oregon, another thought. She felt dazed by the possibilities. And filled with righteous indignation that it had taken so long for justice to finally be done.

She’d picked Halloween. A perfect time to unmask the true villains. By Halloween, she’d be long gone—but not forgotten. She would have it all, the money—and—the revenge. Who said revenge wasn’t sweet?

A noise at the window made her look up. From the darkness appeared a distorted face. It filled the window, the eyes like empty sockets.

She let out a strangled cry, dropping her paintbrush as she shoved back her chair and stumbled to her feet.

Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the face was gone. She snapped off the lamp, the only light in her corner of the decoy plant, and stood in the dark staring out at the night.

Beyond the glass was a jungle of ferns, vines, moss and trees that fought for space in the suffocating rain forest on the Pacific Ocean side of the Oregon Cascades. Sometimes she felt so closed in here she wanted to scream.

Like right now. The trees moved restlessly in the wind. Shadows flickered over the glass from what little moonlight pierced the forest.

She took a breath and tried to calm herself. There was no one out there. It had just been a trick of moonlight and shadows. Hadn’t her life always been full of shadows? But not for much longer.

So close to finally getting everything she wanted, she felt nervous, jittery, excited and maybe a little spooked. Spooked because something could go wrong.

But she knew that was just her aunt Harriet talking. After all those years with the pessimistic old woman, Nina could hear Harriet in her head. The voice of negativity. The voice of defeat.

She pushed all thoughts of Harriet away as she looked out the window again and saw nothing but the movement of trees and ferns in the faint moonlight.

Glancing at her watch, with its glowing dial, Nina saw that she had at least another hour to wait. She wanted to try to finish this duck decoy, hating to admit that over the past month, she’d come to enjoy the painting.

It required an exactness that appealed to her. She’d found she had a talent for it that surprised—and pleased—her.

From behind her, she heard a soft click. The sound of the door, on the other side of the building, opening?

She turned slowly. A single small bulb illuminated the employee entrance, casting the dark images of hundreds of ducks over her. Mallard and canvasback, pintail and greenwing, buffalohead and widgeon decoys filled the shelves from the floor to ceiling.

From where she stood, she couldn’t see past the shelves covered with ducks. Had she imagined the sound, just as she’d imagined the face at the window?

Sure, that’s all it was, she could hear Aunt Harriet sneer. Fool.

Something moved across the light on the other side of the building. A flicker of dark shadow followed by the soft scuff of a shoe on concrete. The scent of damp night air cut through the sweeter scent of freshly carved pine. She heard another click. The door closing?

It was too early. Unless there’d been a change in plans. But then, wouldn’t she have gotten a call? After all, tonight was supposed to be the last time they would meet. Once she had the money…

She glanced up at Wade Dennison’s second-story glassed-in office, half expecting to see the owner of the plant watching her as he so often did. But the office was dark, just as she knew it would be, and there was no one behind the glass.

Another soft scuff of a shoe, closer this time. She told herself it had to be one of the employees. No one else had a key to get in. Unless in her excitement she’d forgotten to lock the door.

Her heart lodged in her throat as she frantically tried to remember locking the door.

Maybe meeting here hadn’t been such a good idea. But usually she had the place to herself, preferring to work at night. Her co-workers thought she worked late to impress the boss and resented her for it—as if she cared. But that was why meeting here had seemed ideal. No one ever came around at night and she didn’t have to worry about her nosy old landlady eavesdropping.

Who’s there? she called out, expecting an answer.

Silence.

She hadn’t been afraid, hadn’t had any reason to be afraid. Until now.

She heard Aunt Harriet snickering inside her head. Told you this scheme would get you killed.

Nina hadn’t considered how vulnerable she was, alone here in the plant. Dennison Ducks was ten miles from town and a good two miles from the nearest house, which was Wade Dennison’s.

Another soft scuff of a shoe on the concrete. This one much closer. Her pulse jumped. Who was in the building with her? Someone who’d seen her car in the parking lot, known she was in here alone, maybe even knew exactly where she was in the building? Or one of the people she’d been expecting, only earlier? Either of them would have answered her. So who was in the building with her?

She could feel a presence on the other side of the row of ducks, someone moving slowly, purposefully, between the shelves toward her.

Panic filled her. She grabbed the duck off the table, smearing the wet paint. She could make a run for it around the opposite end of the shelves, dash for the door, but she knew it would be too easy for the person to cut her off before she got out—even if he didn’t have a weapon.

She could hear breathing on the other side of the dense wall of carved ducks. It had to be someone who knew why she’d come to Timber Falls. Knew why she’d wanted to work at Dennison Ducks so badly. Someone who’d found out about her meeting here tonight. Someone who thought he could keep her from getting what she deserved. That narrowed it down considerably.

But which one was dumb enough to try to stop her? She thought she knew as she waited, clutching the large wooden duck in her fist, determined not to let anyone take what was rightfully hers. Not again.

She listened as the footsteps moved closer and closer—stopping at the end of the ceiling-high shelf filled with ducks nearest her.

Quietly she slipped to the end of the row and raised the duck over her head. Come on. Just a few more steps…

The figure came around the end of the wall of duck-filled shelves.

Nina stared in confusion. For an instant, she almost laughed she was so relieved. She lowered the duck. She had nothing to fear.

She couldn’t have been more mistaken.

Chapter Two

Wednesday, October 28

Early the next morning, an ill wind whirled through Timber Falls. It started at the north end of Main, down by the Ho Hum Motel. Just a breeze. But by the time it reached Betty’s Café, it had picked up speed, dirt and dried leaves, stripping Lydia Abernathy’s maple tree bare.

Now a dust devil, it reeled past the Spit Curl, the post office and the Timber Falls Courier, discarding leaves and dust like unwelcome offerings in each doorway of the small Oregon town.

By the time the dust devil swept past Harry’s Hardware and the Duck-In bar, the sky was dark as mud.

As if sensing more than an ill wind had blown into town, Sheriff Mitch Tanner got up from his desk at Town Hall to close the window moments before the panes began to rattle. Dirt and debris clattered against the glass. The dense wall of rain forest surrounding town shimmered in the dull light, a flickering of dark shadows from within.

Just as suddenly as it had begun, the wind died, the dust and debris settled, leaves floated gently to the ground and the first drops of rain plinked against the window.

The rainy season in Timber Falls had begun.

Mitch groaned. Trouble always seemed to accompany the rain. And he feared, this year both had come early. To make matters worse, Halloween was only days away and he’d heard that the Duck-In bar was hosting a costume party. He could figure on a long night of breaking up fights and trying to get locals home safely.

Behind him, Wade Dennison cleared his throat. As I was saying, Sheriff…

Mitch dragged his gaze from the rain-streaked window, trying to shake an ominous sense of dread as he turned his attention back to the man sitting across the desk from him.

Over sixty, his dark hair peppered with gray, Wade Dennison had a look of privilege about him.

It just isn’t like Nina not to show for work. Wade was a soft-spoken man, but a powerful one in this town. He owned Dennison Ducks, Timber Falls’s claim to fame—and its main source of income.

Mitch nodded, wondering why Wade was in such a tizzy. This couldn’t be the first employee who hadn’t shown up for work.

I called. Her landlady said she didn’t come home last night, Wade was saying.

She doesn’t have a cell phone?

Wade shook his head, worry in his gaze. Maybe more worry than was warranted? More worry than was appropriate for a young and attractive female employee?

Could be she stayed over at a friend’s or a boyfriend’s, Mitch suggested. Or maybe she’s with family.

Wade shook his head. She doesn’t have any family. No boyfriend, either. Or friends.

Mitch raised a brow.

At least not that I know of, Wade added. She’s only been in town a month.

A month was plenty long enough to make friends, let alone a boyfriend. But Mitch didn’t say anything.

Wade shifted in his chair. Nina’s…shy. Keeps to herself. She’s real serious, you know?

He didn’t. But he was curious about how Wade knew all this. Mitch had seen Nina Monroe only a few times around town and just in passing, but he remembered her as being attractive with long dark hair and dark eyes. Serious how?

She’s a good worker, always on time, Wade was saying. In fact, she works late a lot, real serious about her job. The older man cleared his throat again. That’s why I’m worried something might have happened to her.

Mitch’s radar clicked on. Like what?

Wade shook his head. I’m just saying she would have called if she wasn’t coming in.

A shadow filled the open office doorway. Town clerk Sissy Walker stood, hands on her ample hips, a look of irritation on her face. He knew the look only too well.

Ms. Jenkins on line two, she said. "It’s the fifth time she’s called this morning. She says if you don’t talk to her, she’ll track you down like a dog."

Mitch groaned, knowing that was no idle threat. Wade, I have the information on Nina that you gave me. Let me do some checking and get back to you.

Wade Dennison slowly rose to his feet. You’ll let me know as soon as you hear something.

It wasn’t a question. You know I will. After Wade closed the office door behind him, Mitch picked up the phone and hit line two. Charity? It was never good news when Charity Jenkins called.

Hello, Mitch, she said, a hint of humor in her tone. No doubt because she’d managed to get him on the line—in more ways than one over the years.

You know threatening a sheriff is against the law, he said, always surprised by what just the sound of her voice did to him.

She laughed. She had a great laugh. You gonna lock me up? She made it sound like something she wouldn’t mind.

He tried to imagine Charity in one of his cells and shook his head at even the thought. What’s so important that you’ve got Sissy ticked off already this morning?

Sissy is always ticked off, Charity said. I called about the latest news.

He wasn’t sure what news that might be. Knowing Charity, she’d probably already gotten wind of Nina Monroe’s alleged disappearance. The woman was a bloodhound.

Charity owned the local weekly, Timber Falls Courier, she’d started straight out of college, her journalism degree in her hot little hands. Mitch secretly believed she’d only started the newspaper as an excuse to butt into everyone’s business—especially his. He was sure she couldn’t make much money at it in a town the size of Timber Falls. But as he knew only too well, Charity loved a challenge.

What news is that? He hated to ask.

Don’t tell me you haven’t heard! There’s been a Bigfoot sighting on the edge of town. Frank, the Granny’s bread deliveryman, saw it clear as day in his headlights last night. Practically ran off the road he was so upset.

Mitch swore under his breath. Bigfoot. Great. The news couldn’t have been worse if an alien spaceship had landed at Dennison Ducks and abducted Nina Monroe. Bigfoot. This sort of thing only brought more wackos to town—as if Timber Falls needed that. And during the rainy season!

I’m over at Betty’s having breakfast, Charity said.

This was not anything new. He could imagine her sitting on her usual stool at the café. The sight was more than appealing. She’d be wearing jeans and a sweater that would hug her curves. Her burnished auburn hair would be pulled up into a ponytail. Or maybe down around her shoulders, falling in natural loose curls around her face, making her big brown eyes golden as summer sunshine.

Everyone’s talking about the sighting, she was saying. I hear it’s made all the big papers.

He groaned, hating to think how many people would drive up this way hoping to get a glimpse of the mythical creature. Just the way they did the last time. Damn.

Betty made banana-cream pie, Charity said. She was making his mouth water and she knew it. The woman was relentless. Have you had breakfast?

Only Charity Jenkins would think pie was the breakfast of champions. Not that he hadn’t spent a good share of his mornings over the years on the stool next to her having pie for breakfast. The woman had corrupted him in ways he hated even to think about.

But not this morning. As enticing as your offer is, I have to pass. Charity would do anything for a story, including tempt him with banana-cream pie. But he wasn’t about to say something he would regret so she could print it.

Besides, he had to get on the Nina Monroe case, if there was a case, and the last thing he needed was to start the rainy season by spending time with Charity Jenkins. Hadn’t he learned his lesson with that woman?

Is there something going on I should know about? she asked, always on alert.

No, he said quickly. Probably too quickly. I just don’t want anything to do with this article. You know how I feel about these damned Bigfoot sightings. Fools seeing things that we all know don’t exist and then shooting off their mouths.

Can I quote you on that?

No! And speaking of fools, make sure there is no mention of my father and Bigfoot this time. I mean it, Charity.

She made a disgruntled sound. You really are no fun.

Yeah, so you keep telling me. She’d always said he had no imagination because he didn’t buy into flying saucers, ghosts or marriage. If she hadn’t already, she could add Bigfoot to that list.

Well, all right, if you’re sure. By the way, she said in that seductive soft