Jaxson felt he had come to know Buckhorn through Luna Declan’s eyes and ears. The hairdresser had only been in town for less than a year, but she had a keen eye and people seemed to trust her. Not to mention how her clients often relaxed while having their hair done and told her things. She’d relayed these stories to him, so he had a pretty good feel for the town and the people living here.

  The problem would be narrowing down the suspects. He still couldn’t believe someone had killed Vi Mullen. Killed in her own store. Who would have the fortitude to confront her and why? Yarrow had to know that it wouldn’t be easy to get those answers. While roots ran deep in Buckhorn, so did grudges from what Luna had told him.

  Also, he suspected that despite Vi’s irascible personality and ability to make enemies at every turn, the residents would pull together to protect one of their own—even a murderer. With the residents standing together, it would make it hard to find the killer—especially if Yarrow was the one asking the questions.

  The coroner knocked at the back door, announcing himself. Yarrow went to let him in, saying over his shoulder, “Don’t touch anything,” as if to remind Jaxson who was in charge. Like he’d forgotten. Like Yarrow would ever let him.

  Jaxson quickly took more photos of the crime scene. The crime techs were outside getting evidence from the back steps. The acting marshal would want to solve this one on his own just to show Marshal Leroy Baggins and everyone else who’d thought he wasn’t up for the job. Because of that, he might keep things from Jaxson, including important information about the crime.

  As Jaxson started to pocket his phone, he looked to see if Luna had tried to reach him again. He answered her text, asking if something had happened with her father. If everything was all right?

  He heard Yarrow’s cell phone ring as he ushered the coroner in. Excusing himself, the acting marshal stepped outside into the alley as Coroner Bob Langstone entered the back of the store. Jaxson greeted him, anxious to hear what the coroner had to say about the crime, and pocketed his phone.

  Langstone was a large robust man whose main job was that of veterinarian, but he filled in as coroner when needed. Jaxson had heard from Luna, who cut Langstone’s hair at her salon, that Bob enjoyed reading murder mysteries and discussing old unsolved murder cases.

  “Mornin’,” Langstone said, giving him a nod before his gaze shifted to the murder victim.

  Jaxson nodded and watched the coroner take in the crime scene. He knew from scuttlebutt that Langstone was good at his job and respected by the state medical examiner for his thoroughness. He was relieved that the more local man had gotten this call rather than a coroner from Billings, three hours away.

  The coroner wasted little time to glove up and go to work. Jaxson wondered if any of his theories could be backed up by forensic evidence. “Was she standing or lying down when she was impaled?”

  The coroner was on the floor next to the victim, gingerly inspecting the wound without touching the handle of the spear. “I’d say down since the tips of the spear have gone all the way through her body and now seem to be imbedded in the worn pine flooring. She’s going to have to be pried up. If the barbs have sunk so deep, removing the body might mean pulling up some of the floorboards.”

  “How much strength would it take to drive a spear though her?”

  Langstone seemed to consider the question for a moment. “I don’t know if you’ve ever speared fish, but there is some weight to the stainless steel spear, along with the very sharp barbed points. The implement is made to pierce the scales of a large fish like northern pike, the barbs making it easy to lift the fish from the water without it coming off the spikes. The killer wouldn’t have had to put much force into the blow with the victim already down.”

  That followed Jaxson’s theory that there had probably been an altercation that had resulted in Vi being knocked to the floor, just as he’d suspected. Johnny Berg had said that the back door was not just unlocked, but slightly ajar, and the only light that had been turned on was in the storage room. Vi had been expecting the delivery. The back door was often left unlocked after Vi came in, Berg had said. So anyone in town could have known that and just walked in—just as Berg had.

  Unless the killer had already been in the store waiting, Jaxson thought with a start. He wondered how many people in town had a key to the store.

  “So the killer could have been a woman or someone who wasn’t necessarily strong and powerful.” The coroner nodded. “Do you think she was conscious when she was speared?”

  “I don’t see an evidence of a head injury,” the coroner said. “Depends on how hard she hit the floor when she went down. Could have been dazed. Or the killer could have acted so quickly she didn’t have time to try to defend herself.” Langstone glanced up at him and smiled with approval. “You noticed there are no defensive wounds.”

  He’d already figured that Vi hadn’t been afraid of her killer. The attack itself might have been a surprise since Vi hadn’t had her keys or phone to call for help.

  “It’s possible her attacker hadn’t planned to kill her,” Jaxson said. “If it was premeditated, wouldn’t the killer have used the weapon he or she brought?”

  “Unless things escalated too quickly,” Langstone said. “The killer could have grabbed what was handy, afraid the victim was going to put up a fight once she was on her feet again.” The coroner glanced at the full rack of spears right next to the body with the price tags dangling from the handles.

  “Vi wouldn’t have taken the attack lying down, so to speak,” Jaxson said. So did that mean whoever had killed her had been afraid of her? Or had Vi been the one who wasn’t afraid even after she’d been knocked down during the confrontation? That definitely didn’t leave out a female killer. “She would have come up fighting—if she’d gotten the chance or felt the need to.” He looked down at the body on the floor. “But once the killer had the spear in his or her hands, there was no doubt of the outcome if the weapon was used.”

  Langstone agreed. “A deadly act of opportunity,” he said, nodding toward the rack of spears. Vi was a slim woman and the sharp spear had been nine-pronged wide. “But given the way the spear prongs impaled her... I’d say the killer was committed. He or she had to have known the weapon would kill the victim.”

  Maybe the killer had intended just to scare Vi. But once the attacker picked up the spear, things had turned murderous. Jaxson tried to imagine who in the town of Buckhorn would have been driven to murder as Langstone rose to his feet.

  “You can let the crime techs in,” the coroner said. “Is there a carpenter in town? We’re going to need some help freeing the body from the floor.”

  “Dave Tanner,” he said. “He owns the bar. He and his fiancée, Melissa, still live above the business while their house is being built.”

  “You seem to know a lot about Buckhorn,” Langstone noted.

  Thanks to Luna, he thought, and again worried as to why she’d left town, apparently unexpectedly—and in a hurry. “I’ve kind of been dating a woman who lives here. I believe she cuts your hair.”

  Langstone chuckled. “Luna. That would explain it. I would imagine everyone in Buckhorn bares his and her soul to her.”

  “She’s like a priest or a lawyer anyway,” Jaxson said. “She keeps the names to herself.”

  “Even when it comes to murder?” the coroner asked.

  He wondered about that himself as Yarrow followed the crime scene techs in, locking the door behind him. Was it possible Luna’s leaving had something to do with Vi’s murder? He told himself it had to be a coincidence, but it still bothered him since it had seemed so abrupt.

  Stepping out of the way, Jaxson listened as the coroner filled in the acting marshal on the problem with removing the body. Yarrow made some displeased sounds before he got a call and excused himself, again going out the way he’d just come in. Jaxson got the impression that the call was personal rather than business.

  On his way out, Yarrow called back over his shoulder, “Gray, stay to make sure no one else comes through here. Then I need you to check any surveillance cameras. If someone entered the store and then left by the front door, they would have been caught on camera.”

  “If Vi had a security camera,” Jaxson said. “Vi didn’t like technology, did everything old-school, still had that old-fashioned cash register her grandparents used.”

  Yarrow stopped in the doorway and swore. “There must be some surveillance cameras around town. See if any have a view of the front or back of the store.” He turned to the crime techs who promised to lock up when they were finished and put crime scene tape on the doors. Focusing on Jaxson again, the acting marshal said, “When you’re through, meet me at the café.”

  “The café?” Jaxson couldn’t help his surprise.

  Yarrow unlocked the back door, “I have a crime to solve. But first the next of kin have to be notified. Then it’s time for breakfast.” With that, he was gone.

  * * *

  EARL RAY CAULFIELD was surprised to find an officer of the law standing in his doorway. The town war hero, he’d met Deputy Kenneth Yarrow a time or two over the years. He kept his feelings about the man to himself.

  “Deputy Yarrow,” he said by way of greeting.

  “It’s Acting Marshal Yarrow,” the man said.

  “That’s right, Leroy’s on his honeymoon. What do you hear from him and TJ?”

  “This isn’t a social call, Mr. Caulfield,” Yarrow said, removing his Stetson. “And I’d prefer not to speak on your doorstep.”

  “Sorry,” Earl Ray said and stepped aside. “Please, come in.” He ushered the lawman into the living room and offered him coffee and a seat, but Yarrow said he wouldn’t be staying that long.

  “Vivian Mullen was murdered this morning.”

  Earl Ray was seldom at a loss for words. Lowering himself into a chair, he said honestly, “I’m sorry to hear that. Murdered?” People had threatened to kill Vi over the years—some with good reason. Earl Ray himself had known the feeling more than once. She’d been a difficult woman.

  His initial shock though turned to immediate concern for his daughter, Tina, and granddaughter, Chloe. He’d only recently learned that Tina was his daughter after believing for years that Vi was Tina’s birth mother. Instead it had been Earl Ray’s own wife who’d given birth to Tina. That baby had been switched with Vi’s stillborn after Earl Ray’s wife had wanted nothing to do with her infant daughter.

  But biology aside, for over thirty years Vi had been the only mother Tina had known. Unless it was too late, he wanted to be the one to tell her of Vi’s death.

  “Have you notified her family?” Earl Ray asked the lawman still standing in the middle of the room.

  “I was hoping you’d help with that,” Yarrow said. “I’m told you’re the person to speak to about this. That you know everyone in town.”

  Earl Ray nodded. “I’d be happy to notify the next of kin. I’m close to Vi’s daughter.” He didn’t want to take the time to explain. It was too complicated and only a handful of people knew the truth.

  “Also at some point, I’d like to talk to you about who in town might have wanted Vi Mullen dead,” the lawman said.

  Earl Ray sighed. “A list of suspects could take a while. I’ll have to get back to you. Where was Vi killed?”

  “At the store.” Yarrow put his Stetson back on and headed for the door. Earl Ray had hoped for more information but saw that it wasn’t forthcoming. He’d find out everything soon enough, he told himself. Right now he was anxious to get over to Tina’s house.

  * * *

  LUNA KNEW THAT the Jaxson Gray the elderly gardener was talking about was the same Jaxson Gray she’d been dating. Still, she pulled out her phone, called up the photos her father had sent her and chose one from high school. “Are we talking about the same Jaxson Gray?”

  The man stared at the photo for a long time before handing the phone back. “That’s him. Nice kid. Never had it easy but with that scholarship to the university and his skills, he could have done all right for himself.” He shook his head. “Terrible tragedy that he didn’t go on to play ball. But when Amy disappeared like that, I guess I couldn’t blame him. Always wondered what happened to him.”

  Luna quickly shifted mental gears. “You mentioned an... Amy?”

  “Amy Franklin,” the man said and shook his head again. “I told my wife that girl was all wrong for Jaxson. She was trouble. Anyone could see it.”

  “Anyone but Jaxson?” she asked.

  “Exactly. He must have had a soft spot for her,” the man said, tapping his heart with his right hand. “Why else would he let her move into his house? He probably thought he could help her. But a girl like that...” He shook his head. “Rough, if you know what I mean? If she was pregnant... Well, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it wasn’t even his.” He clamped his lips down as if surprised he’d said so much. Clearly he hadn’t thought about Jaxson and Amy in a long time, but he hadn’t forgotten that old anger and confusion.

  “Someone must know what happened to her,” Luna said. “Maybe a good friend of hers or Jaxson’s?”

  “You sure you aren’t one of those reporters?” he asked, eyeing her warily again.

  “I’m sure. Please, I came all this way. I just want to find out everything I can. My friend knew him way back when. Middle school maybe? I guess Jaxson was a pretty good athlete even then.” She knew that athletes who were rewarded scholarships to play college ball were often gifted from a young age.

  “Right, your friend. I have to get back to work.” He started the mower’s engine but didn’t move right away. Over the noise, he said, “Try the library. Katie might help you. She was Jaxson’s girl. Until Amy came along.”

  Like Buckhorn, the people in this town shared history. They knew everyone’s business—especially when two of them went missing.

  Luna stepped out of the way as the elderly man shifted the mower into gear. For a moment though, she stood staring at the school, wondering what Jaxson had been like back then. He’d filled out a lot since high school. Could he have had a successful football career? Why had he given it up? So many unanswered questions, she thought as she headed for her SUV parked at the curb.

  * * *

  RELIEVED TO HAVE the next of kin being notified, Acting Marshal Ken Yarrow headed for the café. He was hungry and dying for coffee even though he knew it would only upset his already churning stomach. Gallbladder probably, his doctor had told him. Something about his age, his job, his stressful home life. Welcome to the real world, he thought angrily. Like he could do anything about his age or his job. His home life though, well, that was something he was going to have to deal with—but had been putting off.

  He radioed Jaxson for an update, getting a longer one than he’d wanted. The crime scene was secure, the techs were at work, the coroner and some carpenter were planning to take a power saw to the floor around the body to transport it when the techs were finished. His deputy was probably asking them dozens of questions. Yarrow was glad to leave him at it. He would read the autopsy and crime tech report when they were finished.

  With everyone doing their jobs, he entered the Buckhorn Café and took a seat at the counter. Even before he ordered a short stack, bacon and coffee, he knew he’d come to the right place.

  News traveled at a startling speed in these small towns. If you wanted the gossip, you went to the local bar. Too early for the bar? Then you went to the local café.

  A large round booth full of old hens were discussing Vi and her murder in hushed tones, but plenty loud enough since most of the women appeared to be hard of hearing. He could tell that this group had probably been gathering here on a morning like this for years. He had a good view of them reflected in the glass of the pie case as he sipped his coffee and, taking out his notebook and pen, began to make a list of suspects, one for him and one for Jaxson to follow up on as he waited for his breakfast order.

  “I still can’t believe it,” said a soft-spoken small gray-haired woman in pearls and what used to be a housedress. “Why it wasn’t that long ago that Vi was sitting right there where you are Mabel.” She shuddered. “Murdered. My word.”

  “Clarice is right,” said the solidly built older woman apparently named Mabel. “I remember that morning Vi stopped by all in a fiddle over Gertrude down at the gas station. It was always something with Vi. Always butting into other people’s business, just looking for trouble. Well, it looks like it found her this time if what we heard is true.”

  “I heard that the young man who discovered her body had tracked her blood all over the store,” a shy-sounding woman said.

  “Oh, Lynette, don’t remind us how Vi was about her wood floors. She would have been so upset,” said another woman, her white hair in a tight perm against her head, her pink scalp showing through. “She was always admonishing everyone not to track up her floor.”

  “I wonder who killed her,” Mabel said.

  The women all looked around the table at each other, blinking like owls, for a few moments. “None of us,” Clarice said as if offended.

  “I wouldn’t know an ice fishing spear from a shovel,” Lynette added. “How about you, Rose?”

  The elderly woman with the tight white curls looked taken aback. “I’m not sure I’ve ever even seen one. What do they look like?”

  “About the size of a shovel but with a bunch of sharp spikes for spearing fish,” Mabel said. “They aren’t lightweight either. It would have taken some strength.”