town, Sheriff Mitch Tanner got up from his desk at Town Hall to close the window moments before the panes began to rattle. Dirt and debris clattered against the glass. The dense wall of rain forest surrounding town shimmered in the dull light, a flickering of dark shadows from within.
Just as suddenly as it had begun, the wind died, the dust and debris settled, leaves floated gently to the ground and the first drops of rain plinked against the window.
The rainy season in Timber Falls had begun.
Mitch groaned. Trouble always seemed to accompany the rain. And he feared, this year both had come early. To make matters worse, Halloween was only days away and he’d heard that the Duck-In bar was hosting a costume party. He could figure on a long night of breaking up fights and trying to get locals home safely.
Behind him, Wade Dennison cleared his throat. “As I was saying, Sheriff…”
Mitch dragged his gaze from the rain-streaked window, trying to shake an ominous sense of dread as he turned his attention back to the man sitting across the desk from him.
Over sixty, his dark hair peppered with gray, Wade Dennison had a look of privilege about him.
“It just isn’t like Nina not to show for work.” Wade was a soft-spoken man, but a powerful one in this town. He owned Dennison Ducks, Timber Falls’s claim to fame—and its main source of income.
Mitch nodded, wondering why Wade was in such a tizzy. This couldn’t be the first employee who hadn’t shown up for work.
“I called. Her landlady said she didn’t come home last night,” Wade was saying.
“She doesn’t have a cell phone?”
Wade shook his head, worry in his gaze. Maybe more worry than was warranted? More worry than was appropriate for a young and attractive female employee?
“Could be she stayed over at a friend’s or a boyfriend’s,” Mitch suggested. “Or maybe she’s with family.”
Wade shook his head. “She doesn’t have any family. No boyfriend, either. Or friends.”
Mitch raised a brow.
“At least not that I know of,” Wade added. “She’s only been in town a month.”
A month was plenty long enough to make friends, let alone a boyfriend. But Mitch didn’t say anything.
Wade shifted in his chair. “Nina’s…shy. Keeps to herself. She’s real serious, you know?”
He didn’t. But he was curious about how Wade knew all this. Mitch had seen Nina Monroe only a few times around town and just in passing, but he remembered her as being attractive with long dark hair and dark eyes. “Serious how?”
“She’s a good worker, always on time,” Wade was saying. “In fact, she works late a lot, real serious about her job.” The older man cleared his throat again. “That’s why I’m worried something might have happened to her.”
Mitch’s radar clicked on. “Like what?”
Wade shook his head. “I’m just saying she would have called if she wasn’t coming in.”
A shadow filled the open office doorway. Town clerk Sissy Walker stood, hands on her ample hips, a look of irritation on her face. He knew the look only too well.
“Ms. Jenkins on line two,” she said. “It’s the fifth time she’s called this morning. She says if you don’t talk to her, she’ll track you down like a dog.”
Mitch groaned, knowing that was no idle threat. “Wade, I have the information on Nina that you gave me. Let me do some checking and get back to you.”
Wade Dennison slowly rose to his feet. “You’ll let me know as soon as you hear something.”
It wasn’t a question. “You know I will.” After Wade closed the office door behind him, Mitch picked up the phone and hit line two. “Charity?” It was never good news when Charity Jenkins called.
“Hello, Mitch,” she said, a hint of humor in her tone. No doubt because she’d managed to get him on the line—in more ways than one over the years.
“You know threatening a sheriff is against the law,” he said, always surprised by what just the sound of her voice did to him.
She laughed. She had a great laugh. “You gonna lock me up?” She made it sound like something she wouldn’t mind.
He tried to imagine Charity in one of his cells and shook his head at even the thought. “What’s so important that you’ve got Sissy ticked off already this morning?”
“Sissy is always ticked off,” Charity said. “I called about the latest news.”
He wasn’t sure what news that might be. Knowing Charity, she’d probably already gotten wind of Nina Monroe’s alleged disappearance. The woman was a bloodhound.
Charity owned the local weekly, Timber Falls Courier, she’d started straight out of college, her journalism degree in her hot little hands. Mitch secretly believed she’d only started the newspaper as an excuse to butt into everyone’s business—especially his. He was sure she couldn’t make much money at it in a town the size of Timber Falls. But as he knew only too well, Charity loved a challenge.
“What news is that?” He hated to ask.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t heard! There’s been a Bigfoot sighting on the edge of town. Frank, the Granny’s bread deliveryman, saw it clear as day in his headlights last night. Practically ran off the road he was so upset.”
Mitch swore under his breath. Bigfoot. Great. The news couldn’t have been worse if an alien spaceship had landed at Dennison Ducks and abducted Nina Monroe. Bigfoot. This sort of thing only brought more wackos to town—as if Timber Falls needed that. And during the rainy season!
“I’m over at Betty’s having breakfast,” Charity said.
This was not anything new. He could imagine her sitting on her usual stool at the café. The sight was more than appealing. She’d be wearing jeans and a sweater that would hug her curves. Her burnished auburn hair would be pulled up into a ponytail. Or maybe down around her shoulders, falling in natural loose curls around her face, making her big brown eyes golden as summer sunshine.
“Everyone’s talking about the sighting,” she was saying. “I hear it’s made all the big papers.”
He groaned, hating to think how many people would drive up this way hoping to get a glimpse of the mythical creature. Just the way they did the last time. Damn.
“Betty made banana-cream pie,” Charity said. She was making his mouth water and she knew it. The woman was relentless. “Have you had breakfast?”
Only Charity Jenkins would think pie was the “breakfast of champions.” Not that he hadn’t spent a good share of his mornings over the years on the stool next to her having pie for breakfast. The woman had corrupted him in ways he hated even to think about.
But not this morning. “As enticing as your offer is,
