Part 11 (1/2)
Cait had quite a healthy streak of self-preservation. She might have been a slow learner, but she'd discovered that touching fire invariably led to a singe, at the very least.
Sharper was definitely scorcher material.
Menu forgotten for the moment, she cast a thoughtful eye around the bar. Even if the UNSUB was a local, that didn't mean he'd live in McKenzie Bridge. He could be from Rainbow or Blue River. He could, she thought fatalistically, be from any one of a number of small towns dotting Highway 126.
It all kept circling around to one thing, though. The trouble he'd gone to stash those bones. Sharper had nailed it correctly. Why go to so much trouble if you didn't live in the immediate area?
The perp would be outdoorsy, she mused. In decent shape. The sets of remains ranged in weight from eighteen to twenty-five pounds. Not a particularly heavy bag to carry, but certainly unwieldy, especially when scaling Castle Rock at night. Her gaze traveled slowly around the s.p.a.ce. The description would match most of the occupants in the bar. Certainly the group of men playing pool would qualify.
As would Sharper himself.
A s.h.i.+ver skittered down Cait's spine. She knew more about the man than she did anyone else in the area, including the sheriff and deputy she was working with. Knew he had familiarity with the surroundings. That he had knowledge of the cave prior to the discovery of the bodies. That he had acidic soil and hot springs on his property.
And that he very likely had the skills to break a person's neck, thanks to his time spent in the Rangers.
She tried-and failed-to picture him bent over a works.p.a.ce for hours, patiently painting tiny pictures on a human scapula. It wasn't that she couldn't envision him as an artist, she thought darkly, though it would be a stretch. But she couldn't imagine him possessing the patience necessary for such detail. She'd seen little evidence of that particular trait in the time she'd spent with him.
She continued to scan the room. The two men playing darts in the corner would fit. As would three of the men still stealing surrept.i.tious looks at her from the corner of the bar. Given the girth of one of them, though, he could be eliminated from consideration.
The waitress was slender. Not a likely candidate. Though from the occasional look she threw the bartender, she had the internal fort.i.tude necessary to maim, if not kill.
”Made your decision yet?”
Cait glanced around to find the bartender leaning on the bar addressing her. And realized with a start that she hadn't more than glanced at the menu. ”Sorry.” She turned on her stool to face him. ”What do you recommend?”
He used her question as an excuse to rake her form with his gaze. ”You look like a salad type. We do a mean taco salad, but it's late. We use fresh produce, and if I were you, I wouldn't trust the lettuce.”
His honesty surprised a smile from her. ”Thanks for the tip.”
He leaned farther across the bar to tap at the menu. ”We do a decent flat-iron steak here. That's most popular. But you can't go wrong with the blackened chicken sandwich. Comes with steak fries or hashbrowns.”
”I'll have the steak fries with it.” Snapping the menu closed, she handed it to him, shoving aside the splinter of guilt stabbing through her. It had been a long time since she'd stopped counting calories and regarding food as the enemy. But d.a.m.n if she could order potatoes of any kind without her mother's shriek of dismay sounding in her mind.
Of course, her mother's voice at any decibel had the power to flay her nerves raw. She'd found putting a continent between them was the only sure way to maintain their already strained relations.h.i.+p.
The bartender scribbled her order down on a pad, then looked up, and raised his voice. ”Joanie.”
The waitress hurried over, her tone when she approached more than a little annoyed. ”You're closer to the kitchen than I was, Del. Honestly.” She s.n.a.t.c.hed the order slip from him and sailed off to the kitchen's order counter, still muttering. Cait figured they were lucky not to be able to make out the rest of her words.
Del shot her a look. ”You'll have to excuse my wife. We're short-handed, so she had to pull a double s.h.i.+ft.”
”So this is your place?” Cait tipped the bottle to her lips.
”Joanie's and mine.” He made a grimace. ”Well, actually her mother financed us, something she'll never let me live down. The Internet cafe is new, though. Joanie's pretty good with computers. Not everyone around here has Internet access, so we get lots of business, and not just from the resorts.” He propped one elbow on the bar while he did a slow lazy swipe of the top with the damp rag in his free hand. ”Whereabouts you staying?”
She briefly questioned the wisdom of answering then gave a mental shrug. It wasn't as though it would be difficult for someone to discover. And she wanted to keep the lines of communication open. Bartenders tended to know everything worth knowing about the patrons. It wouldn't hurt to find out what he had to say. ”The McKenzie.”
For some reason he looked a bit surprised at that. ”Really? Well, they don't have access, so if you need it, we have reasonable prices . . .” His palm slapped the top of the bar. ”d.a.m.n, it just hit me who you must be.”
She raised a brow and took another sip from the bottle. ”Who must I be?”
”You're the one working with the sheriff's department on those bones they found in the Castle Rock area, aren't you? Caitlin Fleming?” Without waiting for a response, he gave a disgusted shake of his head. ”Saw the press conference yesterday.” He jerked his head toward the TV behind the bar. ”Andrews said they brought in a special consultant from some place out east, and well . . . some around here have been running at the mouth about you since you got here.”
”That's odd, since I haven't met all that many people.”
”Hey, Del, we need another round.”
The man waved in the direction of the shout but never looked away from Cait. ”Some have gotten a look at you, and that was enough.” A lone masculine dimple winked when he smiled, managing to make his words seem harmlessly flirtatious. ”About the most exciting thing that happens around here is when some tourist gets himself lost and a search party has to go out after him. This whole thing has everyone in the area buzzing.”
”Del!”
” 'Scuse me.” His movements swift and sure, he worked the tap and reached for bottles in a manner that spoke of long practice. She watched him load a tray with the drinks, but her mind was elsewhere.
She hadn't seen the press conference herself, but she'd read a transcript of it online. Although the sheriff had mentioned hiring a consultant from Raiker Forensics, Cait's name had never been mentioned.
It was d.a.m.n sure her description hadn't been.
So where was this information coming from? And did the gossip stop with her or were there more details being bandied about specific to the case? The former was merely annoying. But if it was the latter . . . she may have to let Barnes in on it.
”Blackened chicken sandwich and steak fries.” A dinner basket was set before her on the bar. Joanie took wrapped silverware and a bottle of ketchup out of her ap.r.o.n pocket and set it next to the plate. Turning, she swiped the salt and pepper from the closest table and slid that close to Cait, as well. ”Is there anything else I can get you?”
”This is fine, thanks.” And from the looks of the slightly wilted lettuce leaf peeking out from beneath the bun, she was glad she'd taken the bartender's advice and foregone the salad. She shot the woman a commiserating look. ”Long day, huh?”
Joanie's startled gaze met hers for a moment, before she gave a tight smile. ”It shows?”
”Your husband said you'd been working all day.”
The woman propped a hip against the next stool and nodded, her shoulder-length dark hair swinging with the motion. ”I thought three kids kept me busy. I've been running myself ragged today. One waitress is out with the flu and the other just didn't show up. I could never do it on my own if business wasn't slower than normal right now.”
”The lady at the motel said it had been slow all over.”
Using her order pad to fan herself, Joanie nodded. ”It's those old bones they found that's to blame for all this. Which is crazy because they've probably been there longer than I've been alive. What's the fuss? It's not as though there's any danger now.”
”You don't think so?”
”Do you know how long it takes a body to be nothing but bones? Years and years. Everything'd be fine if they just stopped talking about it on TV and scaring off the tourists.”
Cait said noncommittally, ”Once whoever is responsible is caught, tourism should get back to normal.”
”If they're caught. And lots of people around here depend on a good season to survive.” The woman blew out a breath, sending a practiced eye around the area. ”I'll tell you one thing, whoever put those bones in that cave? I'd bet a hundred dollars they're long gone. But we're the ones who're left with the fallout. That's why I say if TV stops talking about it and Tony Gibbs stops running his mouth off, the whole thing would blow over and we could get on with our lives.”
”Joanie, can you watch the bar? I have to restock the beer.” Del fairly flew by them without waiting for an answer, leaving his wife to glare impotently after him. Then, catching Cait's eye, she heaved a sigh and shoved away from the stool.
”Word of advice? Don't ever work with your husband. There's such a thing as too much togetherness.”
Cait's mouth quirked. She doubted she'd need that particular information. ”I'll remember that.”
As the woman hurried around the counter to wait on the men at the end of the bar, Cait ate her meal thoughtfully. Although it brought out the usual number of gawkers, murder had a natural depression on tourism. That fact often was a prime motivator for one of Raiker's consultants to be called in the first place. Local and state politicians got nervous when they saw the prospect of the cash infusion in their town or state dwindling. That was really no more cynical, she supposed, than Andrews wanting to use the successful resolution of this case to pave her way to the governor's mansion.
”Looks good.” Sharper appeared at her elbow and reached over to snag one of her steak fries.