Russell County K-9 officer Mark Lassiter pulled into Peterson’s, the small, locally owned grocery that he preferred over Walmart. That it was located in downtown Pearl Springs instead of out by the highway might be a factor. He turned to Gem, his K-9 German shepherd. “Stay. I’ll be right back.”
Even though the temps were in the low sixties, Mark left the motor running. The heat controls in the Ford Expedition automatically kicked in if the temperature in the vehicle dropped too low. Conversely, if it got too hot, the air conditioner turned on.
A bell rang over his head as he pushed open the door to the old store and glanced around for the owner. He nodded to the older man sitting behind the counter. “Morning, Mr. Peterson.”
The grocer smiled big. “Almost afternoon, Mark. How’s my girl?”
With his strong voice, Mr. Peterson didn’t sound ninety-two and certainly didn’t look it with his mostly still-black hair. “She’s good.” Mark walked to the pet supplies and picked up the treats as the grocer’s grandson, Kyle, came from the back of the store.
“Can I help you find anything else?” the grandson asked.
“I think this will get me through today.” Kyle had worked at the store for as long as Mark could remember. He took the treats to the checkout.
“These are on the house today,” the older Mr. Peterson said.
Kyle stiffened.
“Thanks, Mr. Peterson,” Mark said, “but I really want to pay for them.”
“Your money’s no good here.” Mr. Peterson narrowed his eyes at his grandson. “And I’m giving them to Gem, not you.”
It was no use arguing with the older man. “Gem thanks you,” he said and took the treats. As he walked out the door, he heard Kyle griping to his grandfather that it was hard enough to keep the doors open without giving away stuff.
Once in his SUV, Mark backed out of the parking space and drove to the Pearl Springs city park. It was a perfect place to practice for the K-9 scent trials in Kentucky in June. There were enough people around throwing Frisbees or walking the trails or just enjoying the beautiful weather to simulate the distractions at the trials.
He left Gem in the SUV while he walked across the park to a huge oak, where he removed the vest from a scented teddy bear and propped the bear against the oak tree. He jogged back to the Expedition and used his remote to open Gem’s door. The black and tan German shepherd hopped out of the SUV and pranced in a circle.
“You ready, girl?” Gem let out a woof, and Mark let her sniff the small vest before he gave the search command.
Gem ignored the people in the park and bounded away, her nose in the air while she worked a zigzag pattern. When she caught the scent, he followed as she made a beeline to where he’d hidden the bear and alerted by plopping down beside it and barking.
“Good girl!” Mark patted her side. “Free,” he said, releasing the dog before rewarding her with one of Mr. Peterson’s treats. Then he pulled out a short, braided rope, and she scrambled up and grabbed the rope.
Mark spent a few minutes playing tug with Gem before he threw the rope, and she bounded after it. Like most of the dogs he’d trained since leaving the military, she preferred playtime over the treats, but she was really happy when she received both.
His cell buzzed, and he unhooked it from his belt. It was a call from his boss, Chief Deputy Alexis Stone, who preferred to be called Alex.
Mark was still a little bummed to lose the chief deputy spot. He was thirty-four and had hoped to be more than a deputy by this time. In fact, he’d hoped to take Harvey Morgan’s place when the former chief retired, but Sheriff Carson Stone had hired his granddaughter. She was doing a good job running the office after Carson had suffered a major heart attack. So well that she’d probably win the next election, since Carson wasn’t running again, and so far she had no opposition. Maybe he’d be made chief deputy then.
Mark slid the answer button on his phone. “Lassiter.”
“Hate to bother you on your day off, but I just got a call from Mae Richmond. She tried to reach you, but you didn’t answer.”
“Is she all right?” He’d hate to see anything happen to his neighbor and friend.
“Yeah, but . . .” Alex sighed. “She’s coming into the office . . . something about her granddaughter. Gramps was here and he about had a fit, said she’d drive me batty if I encouraged her at all.”
He was surprised Carson had come into the office—he rarely did anymore. He must be feeling better. “Up until a couple of years ago, Mae came by at least once a month to see if the sheriff had any updates on her granddaughter and to share her latest theories,” Mark said.
Gem brought the tug and dropped it at his feet, and he threw it again. “I think your grandfather is really bothered because he hasn’t been able to solve the murders or find the granddaughter or her uncle, Keith Bennett.”
“That’s what I think too,” Alex said. “Since you and Mae are friends, I think it would help if you were here when she arrives.”
“Sure.” The request puzzled him. Alex and Mae went way back—Mae had regaled him with tales of babysitting the chief deputy. “I’m at the park. Won’t take me five minutes to get to your office.”
“See you then.”
He opened the rear door to his SUV and called Gem. Once he had her secured, he drove to the sheriff’s office, still thinking about Alex’s request when his phone rang. It was Mae.
“Lassiter.”
“Oh, good.” Relief flowed through the phone. “I tried to call you earlier.”
“What’s going on?”
“I have something to show you. Can you meet me at Alex’s office?”
“She called, and I’m on my way there now.”
“Oh.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“Yes . . . but if she’s already talked to you . . .” Mae sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
The rhythmic ticking of a blinker filled the silence. She was probably turning onto the highway to Pearl Springs.
“See you in a few minutes,” he said.
“Just promise you’ll keep an open mind.”
“Don’t I always?”
“That’s what I like about you,” she said and ended the call.
Mark shook his head. Mae was as independent as they came. Eccentric was what people usually called her. Sometimes he forgot she was a well-known potter, and that some of her porcelain art pieces commanded a thousand dollars or more on the website she designed herself.
He was one of the few people she actually engaged with. Maybe because they were neighbors on Eagle Ridge. Or more likely because he made it a point to chop wood and lay it by her back door at least once a week during cold weather. Sometimes, if she wasn’t working in her pottery shop, she would invite Mark and Gem into the house, Mark for coffee and one of her rich fudge brownies and Gem for a special homemade dog treat.
From what the sheriff had told Mark, it hadn’t always been that way. She’d been active in church and some of the women’s groups in Pearl Springs even after her husband had been killed in a logging accident. But when her daughter and son-in-law were murdered and her granddaughter disappeared, she’d retreated to her home and pottery studio on Eagle Ridge.
So what had brought her out today?