Myths, Murder & Love

Chapter 23

Leon settled behind the wheel, his attention already shifting to their next move.

Thallia buckled her seat belt. “So what's our plan?”

Leon started the truck. “We'll head to the resort and have lunch.”

“You don't want to interrupt her?”

He shook his head. “She's not under arrest, and I don't have anything that justifies pulling her away from a patient.”

Thallia considered that. “We could tell her it's important.”

Leon backed out of the driveway. “We could. But people tell you more when they don't feel rushed.”

Thallia recognized the strategy. “Reporters do the same thing. Ask the question, then let the silence do the work.”

“People usually keep talking,” Leon added.

Thallia grinned. “Especially when they shouldn't.”

“Exactly.”

Thallia turned toward him. “And if she's lying?”

Leon checked his mirrors. “A lie usually gets harder to maintain the longer you let someone talk.”

Thallia smiled. “I knew there was a reason I liked your profession.”

His gaze flicked toward her. “My profession?”

She caught the implication. “That's the part of that sentence you're choosing to question?”

Leon laughed as the resort appeared ahead of them.

The main building of The House in the Canyon Resort rose against the red cliffs in pale stone and dark timber, its broad windows reflecting the afternoon light. Landscaped paths wound between native grasses, flowering shrubs, and carefully placed boulders that made the property seem less built than settled into the desert.

Leon parked near the main entrance.

Thallia stepped out and surveyed the building. “This is a lot nicer than I expected.”

Leon slipped the keys into his pocket. “What were you expecting?”

She grinned. “Fake cactus and wagon wheels.”

Leon stared at her.

Thallia lifted one shoulder. “Tourist Utah.”

Leon sounded offended. “You've been here three days and you're already insulting the landscaping.”

“No, I'm considering buying plants. I have no frame of reference. I expected something a little more Wild West.”

Leon raised an eyebrow and opened the door for her.

Cool air met them as they entered the lobby.

A woman at the front desk recognized Leon and checked Abbie's schedule. “She has another forty minutes with her current client. Then she's free until two.”

Leon thanked her.

Thallia eyed the restaurant beyond the lobby.

“Forty minutes,” Leon said.

She smiled. “Plenty of time for an extensive interrogation strategy meeting involving food.”

Amusement crept into Leon's voice. “That sounds suspiciously like lunch with paperwork.”

The restaurant overlooked a wide terrace and the red cliffs beyond it. They were shown to a table near the windows, far enough from the other diners that conversation wouldn't carry easily.

Thallia opened the menu. Her stomach immediately approved of several possibilities.

Leon hadn't even looked at his.

She lowered the menu. “You're still working.”

Leon shook his head and brought his focus back to her. “I'm thinking.”

Thallia lowered her voice. “About Abbie?”

Leon nodded. “We know she was angry with Jake. We don't know why.”

Thallia set her menu aside. “And my dream gave us just enough to know someone was with him and not enough to tell us who.”

Leon studied her across the table. “And that's bothering you.”

Thallia raised her eyebrows. “Wouldn't it bother you?”

Leon picked up his menu. “More than I'd care to admit.”

Some of Thallia's frustration eased. At least he understood it.

She reached for her water. An uncomfortable prickling ran across her right palm.

Thallia stopped and rubbed her thumb over the spot.

Leon returned to the investigation. “Abbie's anger may have nothing to do with Jake's death.”

The itching spread across Thallia's palm. Then her other hand began to itch.

She frowned and set down her glass.

Leon stopped speaking. “What's wrong?”

Thallia rubbed one hand with the other. “I don't know.”

She turned both hands over. No redness or rash. Nothing that explained the sudden irritation.

Thallia rubbed her palms together. The sensation intensified between her fingers. It felt strangely enclosed, as though something rough rested against her skin where nothing touched it.

The server arrived with their food before Thallia could make sense of it.

She flexed her fingers beneath the table while the woman set a sandwich in front of her. The rough sensation remained, pressing against her palms and between her fingers.

Leon waited until the server walked away. “Still bothering you?”

Thallia examined her palms again. “Yes, but there's nothing there.”

They ate while they talked through what they knew about Abbie. The irritation occasionally faded enough for Thallia to ignore it, then returned strongly enough to send her palms against her pants.

By the time they finished, she was more annoyed than concerned.

Leon paid the bill, and they headed toward the massage and therapy suites on the other side of the resort.

They had barely cleared the dining room when Thallia realized her hands had stopped itching.

She flexed her fingers.

Nothing.

Thallia looked back toward the restaurant doors.

Leon continued down the corridor before realizing she'd stopped. “Coming?”

Thallia hurried after him. “Right behind you.”

She rubbed her thumb across one palm.

Still nothing.

Thallia tucked the strange episode away and followed Leon into the therapy suite.

Abbie Karras met them a few minutes later in a small consultation room near the reception area. She was still dressed for work, her dark hair pulled away from her face, with her name embroidered above the pocket of her shirt.

Recognition crossed Abbie's face when Leon introduced himself. “This is about Jake.”

Leon indicated the chair across from him. “I'd like to ask you a few questions.”

Abbie sat down. “I heard what happened.”

Thallia took the chair beside Leon while Abbie folded her hands tightly in her lap.

Leon kept his voice even. “Samuel Handson said the two of you argued recently.”

Abbie's mouth tightened. “Samuel hears everything.”

“He heard this,” Leon replied.

She looked away. “Then he probably heard me yelling.”

“What were you fighting about?” Leon asked.

Abbie hesitated. “A pocket watch.”

Thallia glanced at Leon.

Abbie noticed. “It belonged to my grandfather. I gave it to Jake when we were together.”

Leon kept his attention on her. “Why wouldn't Jake give it back?”

“I've wanted it back for months.” Anger edged into Abbie's voice. “Jake kept refusing.”

Leon let the silence stretch.

Abbie shifted in her chair.

“He kept saying I'd given it to him, so it belonged to him.” Her fingers tightened together. “Maybe legally he was right. I don't care. It was my grandfather's.”

“Why do you think he kept it?” Thallia asked.

Abbie hesitated. “I've wondered if he thought keeping it gave him a reason to see me.”

Leon watched her carefully. “Why would he want that?”

“Jake never really accepted that we were finished. He had this idea that once the nursery was doing well, everything else would fall into place.”

“Including you?” Thallia asked.

Abbie gave a small shrug. “Maybe. That's only a guess. He never said it.”

Leon nodded. “When did you last see him?”

“About two weeks ago. That's when we fought.”

Leon gave her a moment before moving on. “Where were you last night?”

Abbie looked directly at him. “I wasn't with Jake.”

“Where were you?” Leon repeated.

A blush crept up Abbie's neck. “At Daryl Shewman's house.”

Leon recognized the name. “All night?”

Abbie's embarrassment deepened. “Yes.”

Leon kept his tone matter-of-fact. “From what time?”

Abbie shifted her clasped hands in her lap. “I got there around seven. I left this morning a little before eight.”

Leon wrote the times in his notebook. “Daryl can confirm that?”

“Yes, of course he can.”

Leon closed the notebook. “I'll need to speak with him.”

Uncertainty crossed Abbie's expression. “I figured. But can you keep it quiet? We haven't told his mama we're dating.”

Leon kept his tone reassuring. “I'll try. But I can't guarantee it won't get out, and I may have more questions.”

Abbie rose with him. “Sheriff, I was angry with Jake. Really angry. But it was just a watch.”

“A watch that mattered to you,” Leon corrected.

Abbie's tension eased. “Yes.”

Leon nodded. “Thank you for your time.”

They left the consultation room and walked back through the resort.

Outside, Thallia drew in a breath of warm desert air. “That was quick.”

“She gave me something I can check,” Leon said as they headed toward his vehicle.

“Daryl.”

Leon nodded. “If he confirms she was with him, it gives her an alibi.”

Thallia opened the passenger door. “Assuming he's telling the truth.”

Leon walked around the hood. “That's why I talk to him.”

She climbed inside. Abbie wasn't cleared, but now Leon had a way to test her story.

Once Leon settled behind the wheel, Thallia looked across the resort grounds. “So what now?”

Leon started the engine. “Jake's house.”

Her reporter instincts perked up. “Now we're talking.”

Leon gave her a warning look.

Thallia reached for her seat belt. “I'll behave.”

Leon didn't look convinced.

They left The House in the Canyon Resort behind and headed back toward town.

Thallia glanced at her hands before turning to Leon. “Are we going to verify Abbie's alibi first?”

“Daryl's working outside town today,” Leon explained. “I'll talk to him later.”

Thallia nodded and watched the houses thin as they drove.

Leon glanced toward her. “You seem awfully interested in seeing Jake's house.”

Thallia turned toward him and noticed the loose curl across his forehead. For an instant, she wanted to reach over and brush it back.

She dragged her attention away. “I'm a journalist. Of course I'm interested.”

Leon raised an eyebrow. “That's all it is?”

Thallia heard exactly what he was suggesting. “Behave, Sheriff.”

Leon laughed and turned onto a narrower road.

Thallia turned back to the investigation. “What are we looking for?”

“Anything that tells me more about Jake than I've learned from other people.”

“That sounds remarkably broad.”

“It is.” Leon slowed for a turn. “We've heard about Jake from Evan, Samuel, and Abbie. Now I want to see how Jake lived when nobody was watching.”

Thallia's interest sharpened. “Now you're speaking my language.”

Leon glanced toward her. “Meaning?”

“Homes tell stories. People carefully control what they say, then surround themselves with things they never think to hide.”

Leon considered that. “Then let's see what Jake's tells us.”