Murder Gone Cold Read online

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  JAMES SMILED TO himself as he watched Lorelei disappear down the hall. He hadn’t seen her in years. As small as Lonesome was, he’d have thought that their paths would have crossed again before this. But she didn’t hang out at Wade’s Broken Spur bar or the engine repair shop or the truck stop cafe—all places on the edge of town that he frequented when home. Truth was, he never had reason to venture into downtown Lonesome because he usually stayed only a few days, a week at most.

  Seeing Lorelei had made him feel seventeen again. The woman had always terrified him. She was damned intimidating and always had been. He’d liked that about her. She’d always been so smart, so capable, so impressive. In high school she hadn’t seemed to realize just how sexy she was. She’d tried to hide it unlike a lot of the girls. But some things you can’t cover up with clothing.

  What surprised him as he closed the door behind her was that she still seemed to be unaware of what she did to a man. Especially this man.

  He sighed, wondering what Lorelei had really stopped by for. Not to welcome him to the neighborhood or give him a sandwich coupon. It didn’t matter. He knew that once he found a place to stay, he’d probably not see her again.

  Something bright and shiny caught his eye lying on the floor next to his father’s desk. He moved toward it as if under a spell. He felt a jolt as he recognized what it was. Picking up the silver dollar money clip, he stared down, heart pounding. Why hadn’t his father had this on him when he was killed? He always carried it. Always.

  James opened it and let the bills fall to the desktop. Two twenties, a five and three ones. As he started to pick them back up, he noticed that wasn’t all that had fallen from the money clip.

  He lifted the folded yellow lined notepad paper from the desk. Unfolding it he saw his father’s neat printing and a list of names. As was his father’s habit, he’d checked off those he had interviewed. But there were six others without checks.

  James stared at the list, realizing they were from Del’s last case, seven-year-old Billy Sherman’s hit-and-run. His father had stuck the list in his money clip? Had his father been on his way to talk to someone on that list? Why had he left the clip behind? He’d always had so many questions about his father’s death. Too many. Ultimately, after what the sheriff had told him, he’d been afraid of the answers.

  Moving behind the desk, he sat down again and opened the case file. His father’s notes were neatly stacked inside. He checked the notes against the list. Everyone Del had interviewed was there, each name checked off the list.

  But the list had stopped with a name that made his jaw drop. Karen Wilkins? Lorelei’s stepmother? Why had his father wanted to talk to her? She lived a half dozen blocks from where the hit-and-run had happened.

  Chapter Four

  James glanced at the time. Almost one in the afternoon. He’d lost track of time reading his father’s file on the hit-and-run. Finding Karen Wilkins name on the list had scared him. He couldn’t imagine why Del wanted to talk to her.

  He’d gone through everything several times, including all of his father’s neatly handwritten notes. Del didn’t even use a typewriter—let alone a computer. He was old-school through and through.

  James realized that after everything he’d gone through, he still had no idea why Karen’s name was on the list or why it might be important.

  His stomach growled. He thought of the coupon Lori had given him. Pulling it from his pocket, he reached for his Stetson. It was a short walk next door.

  As James entered the sandwich shop, a bell jangled over the front door. From the back, he saw Lori look up, her expression one of surprise, then something he couldn’t quite read.

  He walked up to the sign that said Order Here and scanned the chalkboard menu. His stomach rumbled again. He couldn’t remember when he’d eaten—sometime yesterday at a fast-food place on the road. He’d been anxious to get home only to find he no longer had a home.

  Lori appeared in front of him. “See anything you’d like?”

  He glanced at her. “Definitely.” Then he winked and looked up at the board again. He heard her make a low guttural sound under her breath. “I’ll take the special.”

  She mugged a face. “It comes with jalapeño peppers and a chipotle mayonnaise that you might find too...spicy.”

  He smiled. “I’m tougher than I look.”

  She glanced at the leg he was babying and cocked a brow at that.

  “It was a really big bronco that put me into the fence. For your information, it didn’t knock me off. I held on for the eight seconds and came home with the money.”

  “Then it was obviously worth it,” she said sarcastically. “Let me get you that sandwich. Is this to go?”

  “No, I think I’ll stay.”

  She nodded, though he thought reluctantly. When she’d given him the coupon, he could tell that she’d never expected he would actually use it. “If you’d like to have a seat. Want something to drink with that?”

  “Sure, whatever’s cold.” He turned and did his best not to limp as he walked to a table and chair by the front window. This time of the day, the place was empty. He wondered how her business was doing. He wondered also if he’d made a mistake with what he’d ordered and if it would be too spicy to eat. He’d eat it. Even if it killed him.

  What was it about her that he couldn’t help flirting with her when he was around her? There’d always been something about her... He couldn’t imagine how they could be more different. Maybe that’s why she’d always made it clear that she wasn’t in the least interested in him.

  Fortunately, other girls and then women had been, he thought. But as he caught glimpses of her working back in the kitchen, he knew she’d always been an enigma, a puzzle that he couldn’t figure out. Flirting with her sure hadn’t worked. But, like his father, he’d always loved a good mystery and seldom backed down from a challenge.

  Was that why he couldn’t let this go? He needed to find out why her stepmother was on Del’s list. Why the list was tucked in Del’s money clip and why he hadn’t had it on him that night. James knew he might never get those answers. Just as he might never know how his father ended up on the train tracks that night. So, what was the point in digging into Del’s old unsolved case?

  Wouldn’t hurt to ask a few questions, he told himself. He wasn’t going anywhere for a while until he healed. He had time on his hands with nothing to do—nothing but seeing about getting the wreckage from his burned trailer hauled away and replacing it with a place to live. He told himself he’d get on that tomorrow.

  Lori brought out his sandwich and a tall glass of iced lemonade along with plastic cutlery and napkin roll. She placed the meal in front of him and started to step away. He grabbed her hand. She flinched.

  “Sorry,” he said quickly as he let go. “I was hoping since you aren’t busy with customers that maybe you could sit down for a minute. Join me?”

  “I guess I could spare a moment.” She hesitated before reluctantly slipping into a chair across from him.

  He smiled over at her. “I feel like you and I got off on the wrong foot somehow.” He waited for her to say something and realized he could wait all day and that wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t going to help him out. He took a sip of the lemonade. “Delicious. Let’s start with the truth. What did you really come by for earlier? It wasn’t to welcome me to the neighborhood.”

  She shook her head. “This isn’t the time or the place.” He raised a brow at that, making her groan. “You never change. Are you like this with every woman?” She raised a hand. “Don’t answer that. I already know.” She started to get up, but he stopped her.

  “Seriously, you can tell me.”

  She studied him for a long moment before she asked, “Has your family lawyer mentioned that I’ve made several inquiries about buying your father’s building?”

  “Family lawyer?”

  “Hank Richardson.”

  “Oh, him.” James frowned. “He’s our family lawyer? I guess I didn’t realize that.” She sighed deeply. “Why do you want to buy the building?”

  “No one is using it. The place is an eyesore. I might want to expand into it at some point.”

  He nodded. “Huh. I’ll have to give that some thought.”

  “You do that.” She started to rise.

  “Wait, I’m serious. I’ll think about it. Now can I ask you something else?” She looked both wary and suspicious. “I was going through an old case file of my father’s earlier. It was the one he was working on when he died. You might remember the case. Billy Sherman. Killed by a hit-and-run driver. So, I’m looking into it and—”

  Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?”

  He couldn’t help but look confused. “Having lunch?”

  “You’re not a licensed private investigator.”

  “No, I’m not pretending to be. I just found the case interesting and since I have some time on my hands...”

  She shook her head. “Just like that?” She sighed. “Are you living next door now?”

  “For the moment. It’s not that bad.”

  “Like your latest injury isn’t that bad?” she asked, clearly upset with him.

  “I’ll heal, but if you must know my cracked ribs still hurt like hell.” He took a tiny bite of his sandwich and felt the heat even though he’d mostly gotten bread. He knew instantly what she’d done. “This is good.”

  She was watching him as he took another bite. “I make my own bread.”

  “Really?” The heat of the peppers was so intense that they felt as if they would blow the top of his head off.


  “You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

  “Don’t take this wrong, but back in high school, I never thought about you in the kitchen baking bread.”

  “Doubt you thought about me at all,” she said and slipped out of her chair.

  But as she started past, he said, “I thought about you all the time. But I was smart enough to know you were out of my league.”

  She’d stopped next to his table and now looked down at him. Her expression softened. “You don’t have to eat that. I can make you something else.”

  He shook his head, picked up his sandwich and took another big bite. He’d eat every ounce even if it killed him, which he thought it might. The intense heat made its way down his throat to his chest. It felt as if his entire body was on fire. He sucked in his breath. Somehow, he managed to get the words out. “This isn’t too spicy.”

  She shook her head. At least she was smiling this time as she walked away.

  Chapter Five

  James had a lot of time to think since his spicy lunch had kept him up most of the night. It was a small price to pay, he told himself. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d done to Lori in high school or since that had her so upset with him. He’d been the high school jock and goof-off who’d gotten by on his charm. She’d been the studious, hardworking serious student who’d had to work for her grades. Why wouldn’t she resent him?

  But he suspected there was more to it than even his awkward attempts at flirting with her. He felt as if he’d done something that had made her dislike him. That could be any number of things. It wasn’t like he went around worrying about who might have been hurt by his antics back then. Or even now, he admitted honestly.

  He kept going over the conversation at lunch though. She’d tried to pass off her anger as something from high school. But he wasn’t buying it. She hadn’t been a fan of his for apparently some time, but when she’d gotten upset was when he’d said he was looking into his father’s last case, Billy Sherman’s hit-and-run.

  Add to that, her stepmother’s name was on his father’s list. Del Colt had been meticulous in his investigations. He’d actually been really good at being a PI. Karen Wilkins wouldn’t have been on that list unless his father thought she knew something about the case.

  James was convinced by morning that he needed to talk to Karen. He knew Lori wasn’t going to like it. Best that he hadn’t brought it up at lunch.

  But first, he wanted to talk to the person who’d hired his father to look into the hit-and-run after the police had given up.

  * * *

  ALICE SHERMAN GASPED, her hand over her heart, her eyes wide as she stared at James. It seemed to take her a moment to realize she wasn’t looking at a ghost. “For a moment I thought... You look so much like your father.”

  James smiled, nodding. “It’s a family curse.”

  She shook her head as she recovered. “Yes, being that handsome must be a terrible burden for you, especially with the ladies.”

  “I’m James Colt,” he said, introducing himself and shaking her hand. “I don’t think we’ve ever met.” Alice worked at the local laundry. “I was hoping to ask you a few questions.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “About what?” She seemed really not to know.

  “I hate to bring it back up and cause you more pain, but you hired my father to look into Billy’s death. He died before he finished the investigation.”

  “You’re mistaken,” she said, fiddling with the collar of her blouse. “I didn’t hire your father. My ex did.”

  That caught him flat-footed. He’d seen several checks from Alice Sherman in his father’s file and Alice had been the first on Del’s list of names. He said as much to her.

  Her expression soured. “When my ex’s checks bounced, I paid Del for his time. But what does that have to do with you?”

  “I’m looking into the case.”

  Alice stared at him. “After all these years? Why would you do that? You...? You’re a private investigator?”

  “No. It was my father’s last case. I’m just looking into it.”

  “Well, I’m not interested in paying any more money.” She started to close the door.

  “Please, Mrs. Sherman,” he said quickly. “I don’t mean to remind you of your loss. I just want to know more about your son.”

  She managed a sad smile. “Billy is always on my mind. The pain never goes away.” She opened the door wider. “I suppose I have time for a few questions.”

  As James took the chair she offered him, she walked to the mantel over the fireplace and took down a framed photograph of her son.

  “This is my favorite snapshot of him.” She turned and handed it to him. It was of a freckle-faced boy with his two front teeth missing smiling broadly at the camera. “Billy was seven,” she said as she took a seat on the edge of the couch facing him. “Just a boy. He was named after my father who died in the war.”

  “You’ve had a lot of loss,” James said as she brushed a lock of her hair from her face. After the accident, it was as if she’d aged overnight. According to his father’s file, Alice would now be forty-five. Her hair was almost entirely gray and there were deep lines around her eyes and mouth. “I’m so sorry. I don’t want to make it worse.”

  “Have you found new information on the case?” she asked, her gaze intent on him. He realized that he might have given her the wrong impression.

  “No, not yet. I’m not sure where my father had left the case. Had he talked to you about his investigation before his death?”

  “He called me that afternoon, asked if I was going to be home. He thought he might be getting close to finding the hit-and-run driver,” she said. “I waited for him but he never showed up. I found out the next day about his pickup being hit by the train.”

  “He said he thought he might be close to solving the case?” He felt hope at this news. Maybe he wasn’t playing at this. Maybe there was something he could find after all. “Did he tell you anything else?”

  She shook her head. “Unfortunately, that’s all he said.”

  This news had his heart hammering. He’d always wondered if his father’s so-called accident had anything to do with the case. If he was that close to finding the hit-and-run driver... Sheriff Otis Osterman’s investigation had ruled Del’s death an accident due to human error on his father’s part. Either Del hadn’t been paying attention and not seen the train coming at the uncontrolled railroad crossing or he’d tried to outrun the train.

  Neither had sounded like his father.

  The autopsy found alcohol in his father’s system and there had been an empty bottle of whiskey found on the floor of his pickup.

  James had never accepted that his father had been drunk and hadn’t seen the train coming. If he was close to solving the Billy Sherman case, there is no way he would have been drinking at all.

  Alice had gotten up and now brought over more photographs of her son. He’d been small and thin. A shy boy, not an adventurous one. There’d been two theories of how Billy ended up outside on the street that night. The obvious one was that he’d sneaked out for some reason. The other was that he’d been abducted.

  “Is there any reason Billy might have left the house that night after you put him to bed?” James asked cautiously.

  “No, never. Billy would have never gotten up in the middle of the night and gone out for any reason. He was afraid of the dark. He hated admitting it, but he still slept with a night-light. He was also terrified of storms. There was a terrible storm that night. The wind was howling. Between it and the pouring rain you could hardly see across the street.” She shook her head, her gaze unfocused for a moment as if she were reliving it. “He wouldn’t have gone out on his own under any circumstances.”

  “So, you’re still convinced that someone abducted him?”

  “His bedroom window was wide open.” Her voice broke. “The wind had blown the rain in. His floor and bedding were soaked when I went in the next morning to wake him up and found him gone.” All of this he’d already read in his father’s file. He could see it was a story she’d told over and over, to the sheriff, to Del, to herself. “I started to call the sheriff when Otis drove up and told me that Billy had been found a few blocks from here lying in the ditch dead.” She made angry swipes at her tears. He could see that she was fighting hard not to cry.