Closing the door behind him, Gideon eyed the wall covered in a large map with tiny red dots on it as he grabbed his cell and swiped right. “Palmer here.”
“Morning, Gideon. You working on the case?”
“Always.”
He turned and stared out the window at the small town. From where he stood, he could see a single street lined with businesses leading to what he anticipated was the residential area. Cars lined the streets, most older models, with only a few random newer vehicles. People milled about, few entering the storefronts. He watched several locals skirt around the open door of a small, run-down bookstore. Watching the happenings, he couldn’t shake the deepening feeling things weren’t so postcard perfect.
“You got something more for me?” Gideon asked.
“I spoke to Lauren’s husband, and he said she was in the midst of a legal battle with her mother. Something about an inheritance left to her by her grandmother. Her mother didn’t mention anything about it when I spoke to her at length. There was some information made available to me concerning the late grandmother—apparently, she was born and raised in the area you’re in. Could be nothing, could be something. I figured it was worth a check.”
“I can check it out. I was planning on talking to the local law this afternoon. They may have a lead for me. I did a little digging into Mrs. Jacobsons’s background. There was no indication of financial trouble, and her marriage was a solid one. Nothing to indicate the husband would want her gone.”
“Sounds good. I’ll leave you to it. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Sure thing, boss. I’m gonna head over to talk to the local law, see what they can tell me.”
“I’ll talk to you later.”
Gathering his gear, Gideon closed his room door and slid the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob. He turned to stride up the street, the warm morning air refreshing as he navigated the crowds. The single-story building of a small-town police detachment spread out before him. Three wide stairs guided him up to the front door. Inside, several chairs lined the wall to his right, and a cubical surrounded by glass separated him from the mousy receptionist.
Let’s hope they give me what I’m looking for. Though when has that ever happened?
Humor colored his thoughts as he stopped at the front desk. A portly man joined the receptionist, his shoulders swooped as he bent over the papers on the desk. Thick glasses hid most of his face, the frames sliding down his nose before he glanced up. A gnarled finger pushed them back into place as he met Gideon’s stare.
“Something I can help you with?”
“I’m Sergeant Gideon Palmer. I believe my commander called ahead and mentioned I’d be coming by.”
“Ah, think we got a call from the Regina office. Don’t know if it was your boss or not. I can check and see if was. Have a seat, and I’ll let the commander know you’re here.”
Gideon watched the man hurry toward an office at the back. He scanned the waiting room, taking in the small number of officers sitting at desks behind the glass. Posters covered the walls, along with a large plaque with the history of the RCMP on it.
A familiar buzzing drew his attention, and he listened for the click of the door. It swung outward to reveal a lean man with a neatly trimmed beard and graying hair at his temples. Behind him, stood a robust man holding a partially eaten donut. “Thank you, Jason. I’ll take it from here.” He looked toward Gideon. “I’m Corporal Donaldsons. What brings you to our town, Sergeant?” he asked, holding the door open. He took a bite of the pastry, crumbs dribbling down the front of his uniform. “Come on in, we can discuss it in depth in my office.”
Gideon followed him behind the secure door, his eyes searching the space. A muted gray carpet covered the floor, winding between desks and the office supplies. Blotchy stains competed with worn, threadbare spots. Filing cabinets lined one wall next to a counter. A coffee maker sat next to the sink which jutted up against a small fridge. A heavy door marked Personnel Only sat between a file cabinet and the window. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and stale coffee. Typical small-town police station. He felt the curious stares from those in the room and sighed.
Silence hung between them as Gideon followed the man back to a room near the staff room. The corporal closed the door with a click while gesturing to one of the two chairs in front of the desk. “Sergeant Palmer, what brings you to our small town?” The corporal walked around the corner of his desk and sank into the plush chair behind the desk, leaning back as if he hadn’t a care in the world. The buttons on his shirt looked ready to pop, and a stained tie hung over his protruding gut. Bushy brows hung down over his eyes which were partially hidden by heavy, flabby eyelids.
“I’m investigating a case, the investigation has led me here to Grissom. It is the last known location of the victim,” Gideon replied, hovering near the desk as he waited for the man to offer him a seat.
He watched the other man nudge a stack of folders aside, revealing a squished sandwich which had obviously seen better days. The air was hot and tight in the small space, nearly stagnant and uncomfortable. Filing cabinets closed in the room, blocking the natural light from the windows. A heavy layer of dust covered nearly every surface, and a fine film tinged the windows and blinds. Gideon swallowed around the lump in his throat, the nausea rolling in his gut.
The corporal toyed with a pen on his desk, the chair beneath him creaking with his movements. “It’s a rarity we get some fancy cop come up here. We’re a small town, rarely anything happens around here. If I’m bein’ honest, it’s just the way I like it.”
Gideon snorted at his words. Experience had taught him there was always more to the story than what met the eye. Big or small, every town had its fair share of skeletons, and this town was no different; there was something here, he could sense it. He’d seen examples of the darker side of the town earlier, so the other man’s words rang false.
The corporal offered one of the chairs with a wave of his hand, and Gideon glanced down at it. The seat was heavily stained, and a faint stench rose from it. He restrained the urge to wipe the chair and glanced at the other chair, taking in its somewhat better appearance, and sat down.
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I’m investigating the disappearance of a young woman. Her name’s Lauren Jacobsons.”
Donaldsons reached for a travel mug on the edge of his desk. “How does that concern us? We haven’t had any of our local—”
“Lauren vanished two months ago. My investigation has led me to believe she was traveling through this area,” Gideon interrupted. “Her husband gave me the itinerary she had given him for the trip, and mentioned she had spoken to him about a change of plans in which she indicated she had plans to be in this area for a few days.” He pulled his notepad from his pocket and flipped it open. “We discovered she stayed here at one of the local motels and had been there for several days before she disappeared. Records indicated this wasn’t the first trip she’d made to this locale. In fact, they show she was here several times before this last trip. Mrs. Jacobsons is a very prominent lady, and her family is demanding answers. I’m sure you can appreciate the complexity and the delicateness of the matter.”
“Hmm, we hadn’t heard of anything. We do get outsiders traveling through, so it’s possible she was here. Unless she caused a disturbance, I wouldn’t have noticed her.” Constable Donaldsons shifted in his chair, the back creaking in protest of his movements. “Now I do recall a young woman, dressed kinda fancy, who was in town a few months ago, but like I said, I didn’t have any interaction with her.”
Gideon studied the other man closely. His hands were clenched in his lap, the knuckles white. A fine sheen of sweat covered his face and thick neck. Donaldsons refused to meet his gaze; instead he kept darting uneasy glances to the glass door where the blinds were haphazardly pulled down. Shifting slightly, Gideon turned his head to peek over his shoulder. The blinds cracked open allowed him to catch the subtle movements in the other room. Two officers paused near the window, looking at him only to share a quick glance before scurrying away.
“Do you have any idea what her business in town was?”
“No. She seemed like a nice enough girl. Social, talkative with the local women, but as far as I’m aware, she didn’t tell anyone the reason she was here. I do know she stopped to see that man on the edge of town. They met a couple of times. I recall they had a lengthy meeting at the local coffee shop, but I don’t know what the topic of discussion was.”
“Do you know where she was headed?”
“No, as far as I know after her meeting with the, uh…Mr. Hunter she left town.” Donaldsons prattled on. “I can get you the number for Mr. Hunter if you like. He’s a bit of an oddball. Hardly comes into town, never speaks to anyone. We’ve had calls from other residents about him before. He ain’t exactly the kind of guy you want in your neighborhood. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had something to do with that girl’s vanishin’. Some of our more colorful locals say he’s out to steal souls.”
“Seems a bit outlandish to claim such a thing. Do they have any proof he’s dangerous?”
The faint note of censure in the other man’s voice was enough to put Gideon on edge. What had Rebel done? Prickly as hell, he wasn’t overly social, but that wasn’t enough to have anyone turn on him. Or was he anti-social because of how he was treated?
“Nah, but it ain’t natural for a grown man to act and dress the way he does. He’s a little odd.”
“But nothing to say he’s dangerous?”
“Well no, nothing I’ve heard of.”
“Any other information on hand? Were there any calls in the area about people disappearing? I will take the number, by the way.”
“Just a minute.” Donaldsons lifted the phone and spoke briskly into it for a moment. “Hey, can you look up a number for Hunter?” He offered a weak smile as he reached for a pen and hummed while writing down a number onto the scrap of paper near his hand. “Thanks.”
Gideon reached across the desk to pocket the paper the constable offered. His stomach turned at the deep belch from across the desk, the scent of garlic and body odor filling the air.
“Not that I know of. I’ll ask my boys if they know any more. It was never an investigation on our part. She wasn’t a resident, and as far as I’m aware, her car wasn’t abandoned. She checked out of the hotel and drove out of town on her own. I saw her leave myself.”
“Do you know which road she took when she left town?”
“I believe it was the Three-O-Eight.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your time.” Gideon nodded and rose. He checked the urge to wipe his hands on his pants, his skin crawling with the need to shower and change his clothes. Obviously, the local commander didn’t care about cleanliness, or even procedures, such as following up on a reported missing person. Making a note in his book, Gideon tucked it into his pocket and inched away from the desk. “I’ll be in touch.”
Ignoring the stupefied look on the other man’s face, Gideon made a hasty departure from the office, all but running from the building.
“This is going to be a long day,” he muttered to himself as he stepped out into the warm sunlight.
He looked up the street, his gaze sweeping the crowd though he couldn’t say what exactly he was looking for. Someone out there knew something, he was certain of it, but who? Pushing the thoughts aside, he trotted down the steps and headed for his hotel.
* * * *
Beneath Gideon, the chair in front of the rickety desk in his hotel room creaked with every shift of his weight. A faint odor of cigarettes hung in the air, and nicotine stains discolored the drapes over windows.
Flipping a page, Gideon made several notes on the legal pad next to his hand. He shook his head as he turned another page in the file on the missing woman. Shifting, he groaned as his back crackled, a dull ache settling between his shoulder blades.
A glance up revealed the wall in front of him covered in post-it notes, pictures, and a map tacked into place. The sight drew a half-smile as he leaned back. “Almost as homey as my office.”
Returning his attention to his notes, he reached for a small stack of images. Spread out, they detailed the life of a young woman in black-and-white. He barely flinched at the jarring ring of his phone, one hand reaching for it as he flipped another page.
“Palmer.”
“Good afternoon, Gideon,” Warmth oozed from the familiar feminine voice in his ear. “I was hoping to catch you.”
Biting back a curse, Gideon pinched the bridge of his nose at the low pounding of a headache coming on. Exhaling, he forced himself to respond. “What can I do for you, Miss Gregori? I’m a little busy at the moment.”
“Yes, I know, that’s all you do, Gideon. You’re all work, and now, no play. Pity, you need to relax a little, live a little you know. I’m just calling to see how things are going with the investigation. My office is handling the case for the family, and when I saw you were handling—”
“Right, I heard you jumped on board even though this isn’t one of the normal cases on your roster. I had to wonder why you’d take on this one, but I guess there’s really no need to ask, is there?”
“I’m working it, that’s all you need to know.”
“I’m sure you are.”
“I am. So, fill me in.”
“I’ve gone over every detail I’ve managed to uncover. It appears the victim simply vanished. There’s no indication of her car being abandoned, or any trace of her after the day she checked out of the hotel. People around here are tight-lipped and uncooperative, although it may simply be because I’m an outsider.” He lowered his voice to a mutter. “Add in the fact I’m stuck in a small, questionably hygienic room with your voice in my ear. How do you think the investigation is going?”
“If you remember, darlin’, I offered to come up there and help with your investigation. We work well together. You know it’s true, don’t you, Gideon?”
“I don’t need or want your kind of help.” Gideon stifled a shudder at the hint of desire in Danielle’s voice. The affair had been one of his worst decisions. He’d been so busy trying to get ahead, he’d put aside his morals and drowned his self-respect in an ocean of booze. “So far no one was aware of Mrs. Jacobsons being missing. There was some discussion of someone who recently moved to town.”
“Oh? Have you spoken to them?”
“It’s still early in my investigation, I’m still building a suspect list. Unlike some, I don’t want to speak to anyone without having evidence in hand. Until then, I’ll wait.” Gideon leaned back in the chair, ignoring the groan of protest. Rebel Hunter, an enigma, didn’t strike him as the type to kill randomly; he’d bet his career on it.
“Why?” Danielle’s voice dropped several degrees, a hard note creeping into it. “Are you sleeping with her?”
Disbelief and disgust roiled within him at her words. “For fuck’s sake, Danielle, you’re really going to go there? I’m not certain what my sexual activity has to do with this case, or your interest in this investigation. Let me remind you, this is about a young woman missing, feared dead, not some petty shot to get back at me for dropping your ass when I sobered up. You’re working this case, fine, stick to the facts and the details as they are submitted to you. This is still an open investigation. There are no charges to be considered, or even a short list of suspects.”
Gideon snickered humorlessly, tightening his grip on his phone to prevent himself from hanging up. Her words and tone were an unpleasant reminder of one of the major aspects of their sexual relationship. Not for the first time, he offered a prayer of thanks he’d walked away before he’d lost all traces of who he was.
“Back to the topic at hand,” he said. “I’ve uncovered a few details about the man who was pointed out to me. He moved here several years ago, and he’s currently on hiatus from the South Cravol Police Department. There is nothing to indicate he was involved or had any previous knowledge.”
“Nevertheless, question him. If the local police are suspicious of him, it’s in your best interest to follow up on their suspicions. After all, they are the ones on the front line and would know him best.”
“This is not my first case. I’m aware of how to do my job.” Gideon reached for his coffee and took a sip. He grimaced at the cold liquid and set the cup back down with a grunt.
“Still, it isn’t like you to ignore a prime suspect. You’re making snap judgements based on what? Personal experience, or is it something else, such as you switched teams?”
“I appreciate your insight, Danielle, but we both know you aren’t a field operative. You don’t leave the boss man’s side, and certainly don’t understand or know what it’s like to investigate with some level of decorum.” Gideon sneered, his patience rapidly running out. “Or have you decided to work the other side for a bit? Instead of prosecuting the guilty, you’re defending them now?”
“Really, darling, do you have to be such a prick? It’s unbecoming. There isn’t any reason to be so crude. Your job is clear—just investigate the suspect and quit letting your dick guide your decision.”
His temper frayed, Gideon exhaled sharply. “They pointed out someone of interest. There is no indication at this point of foul play. No DNA, no forensics. Until I’ve dug a little deeper, I can’t say with any certainty she was harmed here. There is a lot of ground to cover between here and her home.”
“Do your job, Gideon, or I’ll have you replaced in a heartbeat. Your job is to uncover what happened—”
“Why are you so interested in what I’m doing?” Gideon interrupted quickly. “Because he’s a man? Or because you’re pissed-off I’ve moved on and I’m not wallowing in grief with a broken heart after the rather short and ridiculous excuse of our fuck-buddy relationship?”
“My feelings—”
“Sell it to someone else.” Gideon slammed his palm on the table. The brief flare of pain was enough to draw him from the abyss of depression dealing with her had always left him with. “We’re through, end of discussion. I’m not interested in going back—not now, not ever. I’ll call your office with anything I find, or if I find anything pertaining to the investigation with enough weight to possibly consider charges.” Hanging up, Gideon tossed his phone on the desk and raked his hands through his hair.
Frustrated, he rose and paced to the window. With a finger, he moved the faded cotton curtain aside and stared out into the parking lot.
Several vehicles sat in the parking lot, the sun casting misshapen shadows across the cracked pavement. His car sat parked beneath the worn and peeling sign advertising vacancies with a flashing neon light. Every muscle tensed at the movement across the street, a male in a hoodie shifted in the alley, a cigarette hanging from between his lips. He watched the man pull the dark hood down further over his face before slinking back into the spreading shadows between the buildings.
The weight of someone’s stare sat heavy on him. Pure violence added to the feeling, as though whoever stared hated him…or what he stood for. The hair on the back of his neck rose, his blood slowed as instincts flared, and he shifted away from the window. Who could hate him so much? Had someone from the city followed him?
He dropped the curtain all but an inch. With every instinct firing to life, he studied the street and the alley across from him. Shadows cloaked the space between the two stone buildings. Though there were lights on, they didn’t illuminate the alley. He tipped his head, moving his body rather than the curtain as he appraised the sidewalk and roadway.
Gideon wiped his palm on his hip, his fingers twitching as he felt the empty holster at his side, his mind supplying he’d slipped the gun out when he’d gotten into the room. There was no logical reason to wear his gun, yet he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling digging its claws into his mind. Danger lurked beneath the surface, the oppressive pull of it enough to turn his stomach. Someone lay out there with a deadly intent, but who was the intended victim?
A quick knock on his door jerked his attention from his studying of the area, and he stared at the faded paneling before checking the alley again. Whoever had been standing there was gone. He swore softly before padding over to the door. As he walked by the table, he grabbed his sidearm. Flexing his fingers, he held his hand behind his back as he opened the door a crack.
His heart kicked, heat curling beneath his skin at the sight of the man standing on the doorstep. “Rebel, I didn’t expect you.”
“I was in town on another errand, figured I’d swing by.” Rebel stared at him, his gaze steady. He shifted his weight and glanced pointedly at the door before meeting his gaze. “May I?”
“Of course, my apologies, come in.” Gideon stepped back, opening the door completely. “I, uh, can I get you a coffee or something? It’s not the Tim Hortons but—”
“No, thank you.” Rebel stepped through the door, his attention circling the room, taking in the mess, and the spread of notes from Gideon’s investigation. “I’m not here on much of a social call.”
“Oh? What can I do for you? Did you go see your doctor yet?” Groaning at the senseless prattling, Gideon waved the other man toward the easy chair in the corner of the room.
“Doctor?” Rebel frowned at him.
“About your dunk in the lake.” He gave a sweeping gesture along Rebel’s body, heat flooding his blood. Now that the shock was fading, he was able to more closely see the man.
Worn denim jeans clung to his legs, the hems falling over dust-covered cowboy boots. A threadbare plaid shirt was tied together over a white tank top, the dark colors of his tattoos peeking through the material. He pictured the ornate lines of the wings as they trailed down his chest to wrap around his waist, the feathers across his nipples.
“It’s fine.” Rebel waved aside his concerns with a familiarity Gideon found chilling.
“You were pretty cold, lips were turning blue. You really…” His words faltered as Rebel took off his jacket and Gideon saw the smooth expanse of skin revealed by the simple t-shirt he wore.
“No, I don’t go to the doctor over something like being tossed into cold water.” Rebel shrugged indifferently. “As odd as it may sound, I’m used to such things happening, you have to be in my line of work.”
“Oh.” Gideon glanced around uneasily. Wiping his palms on his thighs, he shuffled over to pour another cup of coffee from the pot to keep his hands busy. Just what was he used to? More to the point, why would he get used to it? “So why are you here then?”
Rebel blinked at him, his lips parted, a confused look in his eyes. “I’m not sure. I, uh…” He shifted, rubbing his palms together in a circular motion. “Had to pick up a few things, and I happen to overhear a conversation in the feed store.” He paused and lifted his right hand to rub at his temple. “Something about a stranger in town asking about a woman disappearing recently. I didn’t hear who it was, but I overheard them say they’d pointed to me as a person of interest.”
“Who? What do you mean?” Gideon reached out and touched his arm.
He pulled back when Rebel recoiled violently, sidestepping Gideon with an ease he’d only seen from victims of violence. His gut twisted painfully as an idea struck, and he gaped at Rebel. Was that why he was on hiatus? Had someone hurt him? He’d heard the gossip around the water cooler before of a few cases where male cops had been assaulted. Recovery hadn’t been easy for them or their loved ones, and he remembered one who had taken his own life because of it.
“What?” Rebel asked.
“Who are you talking about? I assure you I haven’t—”
“Look, I don’t know why you’re here, and I don’t really give a fuck, but I figure it’s only fair I give you a chance. If it’s you poking your nose in where it don’t belong, you’re going to get it cut off. You get cross-grained of whoever you’re looking for, then you are going to pay for it.”
“Is that why they’re so hostile to you?” Gideon asked, tilting his head to the right as he waved at the window. He stepped closer to Rebel, uneasy with simply letting him leave.
Rebel laughed; a soft, rumbling sound that sent bolts of electricity straight to Gideon’s groin. “No, they’re hostile to me because I’m a tattooed gay man. You seem like a good guy, Palmer. This town isn’t like the city.” He turned to the door, a slight frown puckering his brow. “Advice freely given, Gideon, something I wasn’t offered. You never know when pulling up stakes and leaving will benefit you.”
Gideon caught his arm, halting him in his tracks. He tugged gently, allowing Rebel to turn to face him. As close as they stood, he could feel Rebel’s exhalations, smell the mint from his toothpaste. His eyes traced over the piercings, over the tanned flesh along his jaw. Rebel stared back, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched him step away, his hand reaching up to wrap around Gideon’s wrist.
As if pulled by an invisible thread, Gideon leaned closer, his lips brushing against Rebel’s, the familiar sensation of scruff against his lips lighting a fire inside. Tiny sparks of electricity danced across his skin, shocking him as he pressed closer.
Rebel inhaled sharply. Pulling away, he offered a small, almost sad smile before stepping around Gideon and pulling the door open. Gideon grabbed the door, holding it as Rebel stepped outside and walked across the parking lot to the beat-up, old truck he drove.
Gideon stood in the open doorway and stared after him until the taillights faded into nothing. Confusion settled as he turned and closed the door. His phone rang again. Glancing at the number, he sighed and ignore the call. He had no interest in talking to an ex-lover who refused to let go.
“First thing tomorrow I’m calling the office, see if they can get a different prosecutor on the case,” he muttered to himself.
He reached down and picked up the stack of papers he’d printed off earlier. The white sheets were heavy, crowded with information. He flopped onto the bed, his shoulders and back pressed against the headboard, and crossed his ankles. Instead of looking at them, he stared at the window, his mind racing.
Just who was Rebel Hunter and what secrets was he hiding? His search had proven pointless and empty. The personnel file hadn’t revealed much, and the office he’d once worked out of kept even less information.
Setting the file aside, Gideon crawled off the bed and walked over to grab his laptop. The soft hum of it booting up filled the silence as he waited, tapping his fingers against the keyboard. Connecting to the internet, he logged into the state database for records of the police departments. If he couldn’t find out what he wanted from the other man’s boss, he’d do it another way.