Part 18 (1/2)

”Shad. Enough!” a male voice, Cade's voice, ordered.

Jessica's heart fluttered. Oh, dear G.o.d, what am I doing?

The door opened suddenly and Cade, in faded jeans and a flannel s.h.i.+rt that he used as a jacket over a black T-s.h.i.+rt, stood on the other side. He was unshaven and his hair was rumpled, uncombed. He had that outdoorsy I-don't-give-a-d.a.m.n look that she'd always found far too s.e.xy, but she ignored it. Whatever they'd once had, that white-hot spark of years ago, had been extinguished by lies. Her lies.

”Yes?” he said.

A speckled hound, his gait uneven, rushed out. Rather than snarl and growl, it wiggled and wormed around her feet, begging to be petted as he balanced himself on three legs.

”h.e.l.lo, Cade,” she said and saw his eyes darken for a second before she leaned down and gave the dog a couple pats on the head. To the animal, she said, ”I'm guessing you're Shad.”

”You know me?” Cade asked.

”Yeah, I do.” Straightening, she pulled her sungla.s.ses from her face.

”You sure? Oh. Jesus! Wait a second.” Cade's face hardened. ”You look like-”

”I know.” She yanked out her dental appliance, the one that changed the shape of her teeth, and the other that plumped her cheeks. As he stared, she next removed her wig, letting down her hair.

”For the love of Christ.” His eyebrows slammed together. ”Anne-Marie?”

”In the flesh.” She patted her stomach. ”Well, more than just flesh. I'm wearing a little extra, you know, to complete the look.”

”Holy s.h.i.+t.” Dumbstruck, he filled the doorway, a tall, rangy man who was glaring at her as if she were Satan incarnate.

”Can I come in?”

He hesitated.

”It's important, Cade. You know it is. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here.”

His jaw slid to the side and his gaze narrowed suspiciously. ”Okay,” he finally agreed, stepping back and swinging the door wide. ”But what the h.e.l.l's going on? What's with the getup?” The dog streaked back into the house and before she could follow, he said, ”Wait. Don't tell me. You're in a little bit of trouble again.”

”More than a little,” she admitted as he closed the door behind her and she remembered all too vividly what it felt like to kiss this love 'em and leave 'em cowboy. ”This time, Cade,” she admitted, ”it's a matter of life and death.”

”You can talk to Teri, she's the waitress who served her,” Sandi, the owner of Wild Will's said when Pescoli and Alvarez showed up at the restaurant.

One of the deputies who had helped canvas the area had shown Calypso Pope's picture to Sandi and she'd remembered one of her last customers from the night before. The detectives were following up, trying to figure out anything they could about the victim.

”I know she's dead, and I'm sorry, but let me tell you, that woman,” Sandi said, standing at the hostess podium, ”was a real pain in the b.u.t.t. Came in late, almost closing, and didn't like Grizz.” She pointed to the mascot of the establishment, the huge stuffed grizzly bear that, with the changing holidays, was dressed in appropriate or not-so-appropriate attire, depending on how one viewed it.

Pescoli had seen Grizz wearing an angel costume for Christmas, a red, white, and blue Uncle Sam outfit for Independence Day, and a Pilgrim hat and collar for Thanksgiving. At his place of honor in the vestibule, Grizz currently was dressed as Cupid in honor of Valentine's Day, his snarl at odds with the cute little sparkling wings strapped to his broad, s.h.a.ggy back.

”Odd to think she didn't see the humor,” she said.

”A real sourpuss. Tried to go all organic and vegan, which is fine, but not here. This is Grizzly Falls, Montana, and it's wild out here.” Sandi, a known animal lover who had three rescue dogs and two cats at last count, was clearly deeply irked. ”It's not as if I killed all these animals, for G.o.d's sake. They came with the place when you-know-who and I originally bought it.” You-know-who was Sandi's ex-husband; he who could not be named, apparently. They'd been through a bitter divorce and Sandi had ended up with the restaurant, only to make it thrive under her management. ”She ended up with her nose in her iPhone-a lot of that going around these days-and ordered just pie and coffee, and left a miserable tip.”

Pescoli asked, ”Was she with anyone?”

”Nope. Alone. I saw, you know, 'cause I'm always close. As far as I could tell, she didn't speak to anyone.”

”We'd like to talk with Teri. Is she here?”

”Just came on an hour ago. You can use the office if you want some privacy.”

Sandi led them into a crowded office with a desk and one chair, files piled to the high ceiling. She cleared off a stack of invoices and then found Teri. Wary, it turned out she was unable to tell them any more than Sandi had. Calypso Pope had arrived close to eleven and left at eleven thirty-two, according to the credit card receipt she'd signed.

”Lousy tipper,” the waitress grumbled, almost as if getting killed served Calypso Pope right for being so cheap. Then she heard herself and straightened as if caught in some nefarious act. ”Not that I would wish anyone dead.”

”Was she wearing a ring?” Pescoli asked.

”Oh, yeah, one with major diamonds. But no wedding band. Just like an engagement ring.”

”You noticed there wasn't a second ring?” Alvarez asked.

”Oh, yeah.” Teri's head was bopping up and down. ”I pay attention. Me and my boyfriend, we've been looking at rings 'cause we're coming up on our one year anniversary, and I think it's time.”

”How old are you?” Pescoli asked.

”Nineteen.”

”Give it a year or two,” she said and saw the girl's eyes cloud. ”Sorry. None of my business. Anything else you can tell us about the woman?”

”Other than that she was in a real bad mood? I don't know if that's her normal personality or not, but if it is, she really needs an att.i.tude adjustment. That's what my dad always tells my mom when she's in one of her b.i.t.c.h moods. Oops.” She placed her fingers over her lips. ”Sorry. That just slipped out.”

”No problem,” Pescoli said, thinking of the language she'd heard from her own kids.

They ran some more questions but didn't learn anything more as no one else in the place had been on duty or remembered the one customer.

As they walked back to the Jeep, Alvarez found her sungla.s.ses and slipped them on. ”We're already waiting for the security cameras from the buildings along the river. Maybe we'll catch a break and one of them will show something.”

”Or the Spokane PD will find something in her home,” Pescoli thought aloud as they knew the victim's address, but she wasn't holding her breath. So far, they knew little about the woman other than where she lived. They'd found no connection between the two victims, other than they'd both been killed and had their ring fingers, complete with diamond rings, sliced off their left hands.

”This guy got a thing against engagement?” Alvarez thought aloud as they crossed the street and got into Pescoli's rig.

”Or marriage. But that's half the male population.”

”And then there's the missing fingers.”

”What the h.e.l.l do you think he does with those?” Pescoli asked.

”Hmmm . . .” Alvarez shook her head in disgust. As they reached the base of Boxer Buff her cell phone went off. ”Alvarez,” she answered. ”Yeah . . . where? You're sure?”

Pescoli glanced over at her partner.

Yeah . . . okay. We'll be right there.” Alvarez hung up and said, ”We got lucky.”