Christmas at Cardwell Ranch

“I think that is more than a little premature,” her brother said. “Anyway, if the marshal thought that was necessary, he would have contacted me for the number, right?”

“Maybe. Unless they have some rule about not looking for a missing adult for twenty-four hours. Still, I’d like to see her job application.”

Ace got to his feet. “I’ve got to open the bar soon anyway. Come on.”

In the Canyon office, her brother pulled out Mia Duncan’s application from the file cabinet and handed it to her.

He was right. There was little on the form other than name, address, social security number, local phone number and an emergency contact number. Most of his employees were temporary hires, usually college students attending Montana State University forty miles down the highway to the north, and only stayed a few weeks at most. Big Sky had a fairly transient population that came and went by the season.

So Lily wasn’t surprised that the number Mia had put down on her application was a local number, probably her parents’ condo here at Big Sky.

“No cell phone number,” she said. “That’s odd since I’ve seen Mia using a cell phone on at least one of her breaks behind the bar.”

Lily didn’t recognize the prefix on the emergency number Mia had put down. She picked up the phone and dialed it, ignoring her brother shaking his head in disapproval. The number rang three times before a voice came on the line to say the phone had been disconnected.

“What?” Ace asked as she hung up.

“The number’s been disconnected. I’ll call the condo association.” A few moments later she hung up, now more upset and worried than before. “That condo doesn’t belong to her parents. It belongs to a retired FBI agent who recently died. The condo association didn’t even know Mia was staying there.”

At a loud knock at the bar’s front door, they both started. Lily glanced out the office window and felt her heart drop at the sight of the marshal’s pickup.

Chapter Four

As Tag pulled up in front of his father’s cabin, he saw that Harlan’s SUV was gone. He hadn’t seen much of his father since he’d arrived and wasn’t all that surprised to find the cabin empty. Harlan had been in bed this morning when Tag had left to go Christmas tree hunting. He had the feeling that his father didn’t spend much time here.

Tag felt too antsy to sit around and wait. He needed Harlan to put his mind at ease. That leather jacket the dead woman was wearing was a dead ringer for the one he’d seen on the arm of Harlan’s couch.

Fortunately, he had a pretty good idea where to find his father. If Harlan Cardwell was anything, he was predictable. At least Tag had always thought that was true. Now, thinking about the murdered woman, he wasn’t so sure.

Just as he’d suspected, though, he found his father at the Corral Bar down the canyon. Harlan was sitting on a bar stool next to his brother, Angus. A song about men, their dogs and their women was playing on the jukebox.

The sight of the two Cardwell men sitting there brought back memories of when Tag was a boy. Some men felt more at home in a bar than in their own house. Harlan Cardwell was one of them. His brother, Angus, was another.

Tag studied the two of them for a moment. It hit him that he didn’t know his father and might never get to know him. Harlan definitely hadn’t made an attempt over the years. Tag couldn’t see that changing on this visit—even if his father had nothing to do with the dead woman.

“Hey, Tag,” Uncle Angus said, spotting him just inside the doorway. He slid off his bar stool to shake Tag’s hand. “You sure grew up.”

Tag had to laugh, since he’d been twelve when he’d left the canyon, the eldest of his brothers. Now he stood six-two, broad across the shoulders and slim at the hips—much as his father had been in his early thirties.

After his mother had packed up her five boys and said goodbye to their father and the canyon for good, they’d seen Harlan occasionally for very short visits when their mother had insisted he fly down to Texas for one event in his boys’ lives or another.

“I hope you stopped by to have a drink with us,” Tag’s uncle said.

Tag glanced at the clock behind the bar, shocked it was almost noon. The two older men looked pretty chipper considering they’d closed down the Canyon Bar last night. They’d both been too handsome in their youths for their own good. Since then they’d aged surprisingly well. He could see where a younger woman might be attracted to his father.

Harlan had never remarried. Nor had his brother. Tag had thought that neither of them probably even dated. He’d always believed that both men were happiest either on a stage with guitars in their hands or on a bar stool side by side in some canyon bar.

But he could be wrong about that. He could be wrong about a lot of things.

“I’m not sure Tag drinks,” his father said to Angus, and glanced toward the front door as if expecting someone.

Angus laughed. “He’s a Cardwell. He has to drink,” he said, and motioned to the bartender.

“I’ll have a beer,” Tag said, standing next to his uncle. “Whatever is on tap will be fine.”

Angus slapped him on the back and laughed. “This is my nephew,” he told the bartender. “Set him up.”

Several patrons down the bar were talking about the declining elk herds and blaming the reintroduction of wolves. Tag half expected the talk at the bar would be about the young cocktail waitress’s death, but apparently Hud had been able to keep a lid on it for the time being.

Tag realized he couldn’t put this off any longer. “Could we step outside?” he asked his father. “I need to talk to you in private for a moment.”

“It’s cold outside,” Harlan said, frowning as he glanced toward the front door of the bar again. Snow had been plowed into a wall of white at the edge of the parking area. Ice crystals floated in the cold late-morning air. “If this can’t wait, we could step into the back room, I guess.”

“Fine.” Tag could tell his father was reluctant to leave the bar. He seemed to be watching the front door. Who was he expecting? The woman who’d been in his cabin yesterday?

“So, what’s up?” his father asked the moment Tag closed the door behind them.

“I need to ask you something. Who was at your cabin yesterday when I showed up unexpectedly?” Tag asked.

“I told you there wasn’t—”

“I saw her leather jacket on the couch.”

Harlan met his gaze. “My personal life isn’t—”

“A woman wearing a jacket exactly like that one was just found murdered on the Cardwell Ranch.”

Shock registered in his father’s face—but only for an instant.

That instant was long enough, though, that Tag’s stomach had time to fall. “I know you couldn’t have had anything to do with her murder—”

“Of course not,” Harlan snapped. “I don’t even know the woman.”

Tag stared at his father. “How could you know that, since I haven’t told you her name?”

“Because the woman who owns the leather jacket you saw at my cabin came by right after you left this morning. She is alive and well.”

Tag let out a relieved sigh. “Good. I just had to check before I said anything to the marshal.”

“Well, I’m glad of that.”

“I had to ask because this woman is the same one who stumbled into me last night at the Canyon—the same bar where you and Uncle Angus were playing. After seeing that leather jacket at your cabin...well, you can see why I jumped to conclusions.”

“I suppose so,” his father said, frowning. “Let’s have that beer now. We’ll be lucky if your uncle hasn’t drank them.”

“The woman worked at the Canyon Bar,” Tag said, wondering why his father hadn’t asked. Big Sky was a small community—at least off-season. Wouldn’t he have been curious as to who’d been murdered? “She was working last night while you were playing in the band. A tall blonde woman? I’m sure you must have noticed her. Her name was Mia.”

Harlan looked irritated. “I told you—”