Mountain Sheriff

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 tone of hers, “thanks for the present.”

“Present?”

“The one you left on my doorstep?” She didn’t sound very sure.

“Charity, I didn’t leave you a present.”

“Oh, I thought…”