Chapter 2 Cosi
Cosi
A click of static buzzed through the CB radio in my truck before Chuck’s voice came through the speaker. “Cosi Raynes, you got copy?”
I sighed and plucked the mic from its cradle, pressing the button as I held it to my mouth. “Yeah, I’m here. Over.”
“We’ve got a problem out on Cotters Lake. I sent Larry but he just called in. Needs a hand. Over.”
“Damn it,” I muttered, off radio. Why was it that my deputies could handle anything that came through during the week, but Sunday evenings they needed my help?
I raised the mic to my mouth. “What’s the problem? Over.”
“Lady called in and said there was a man sneaking around Ike Poe’s cabin. Over.”
So what if someone was sneaking around? That cabin was empty.
As far as I knew, no one had been out there since Ike had died a few months back.
I doubted there was much inside worth stealing.
Was it a neighbor complaining? The folks on Cotters Lake didn’t like traffic or visitors on their road.
Or maybe someone was breaking in to cause trouble?
Either way, Larry should be able to handle this on his own.
“Who called it in? Over.” My money was on Sue Anne Holmes. She was one of Ike’s neighbors and didn’t understand the concept of mind your own goddamn business.
“Ilsa. Over.”
“Ilsa who? Over,” I asked, waiting for a last name. And I didn’t get one.
Meaning Chuck, who was manning the station’s phone today, hadn’t bothered to ask. “For the last time, Chuck. You’ve got to get last names. Every call. Over.”
“Sorry, Sheriff. Over.”
I sighed. Shit. At this point, tracking down details myself would take less time than trying to relay them through Chuck. “Tell Larry I’m on my way. Over and out.”
The grocery bags in the back of my Bronco rustled as I slowed to make a U-turn on Main Street. So much for dinner at home tonight.
I reached for the radio, changing the channel before I lifted the mic again and said Mom’s handle. “Knitting Needles.”
Linda Raynes loved to knit. The woman went nowhere without her needles, hence her handle. It took her a minute to answer. “Knitting Needles here.”
“Sorry, Mom, I’ll be late for dinner. Over.”
“Again?” Her disappointment was as cold as tonight’s below-zero temperature. She was sick of me getting called in on Sunday evenings too. “Well, that’s how it goes, I guess. I’ll feed Spencer. Over.”
“Appreciate it. Hopefully, I won’t be long. Over and out.” I hung up the radio and hit the gas pedal, speeding past the remaining buildings in town.
The highway stretched ahead, bordered by towering evergreens as it curved through Dalton’s mountain valley. Of course, this call meant I’d have to drive out to Cotters Lake. Heaven forbid it was somewhere in town, somewhere close.
“Son of a bitch.” I promised Spencer we’d have fried chicken tonight. That Mom could spend the evening with him as a grandmother, not babysitter. We’d planned to play a card game, then watch TV.
There was a playoff game Spencer and I wanted to watch. Neither of us were diehard Miami Dolphins fans, but we both enjoyed watching Dan Marino play. Maybe if I hurried, I could salvage part of the evening. At least spend an hour or two with my kid.
Except the moment I turned off the highway, I knew this wasn’t going to be a quick trip. The narrow road that led to Cotters Lake was covered in snow, and there was only so fast I could drive on the icy ruts.
There’d be no hurrying, not tonight.
My hands strangled the wheel as I followed the road, deeper and deeper into the forest. My headlights bounced from one tree trunk to the next. A few overgrown branches smacked the Bronco’s side mirrors.
There weren’t many people who lived on Cotters Lake, even fewer who stayed through the winter. Most houses up this way were summer cabins.
Those few who did stay year-round were, well . . . reclusive. People who didn’t need to come to town often. Who didn’t care when the road was snowed closed and they’d have to wait a week or two for the county to send up a grader to get it plowed.
Who was this Ilsa? I didn’t know anyone up here named Ilsa. But the name . . . it was familiar.
By the time I made it to the lake, I still hadn’t placed it. Maybe a relative of Sue Anne’s? She was always yapping about her many, many cousins from Idaho whenever I bumped into her at IGA.
A solid stream of smoke billowed from Sue Anne’s chimney as her log A-frame came into view. Her round face was pressed against the glass in her living room.
The next house I came to was Robert Aaron’s place. Every light seemed to be on, illuminating his home like a torch.
Five hundred yards later, tucked into a cluster of trees and perched beside the lake, was Ike’s cabin. The last on the road along Cotters Lake.
I’d expected it to be dark, but golden light spilled from the windows. A plume of smoke trickled from the chimney. And parked beside Ike’s two-tone teal and silver Ford Ranger truck was a mint-green Volkswagen Rabbit.
“Ilsa.” I snapped my fingers as it clicked. Ike’s daughter.
He hadn’t talked about her much, at least to me. The last time had been years ago. From what I’d gathered, they were estranged. Her choice, not his.
What was she doing out here? I parked beside Larry’s cruiser, then stretched for the jockey box, snagging a flashlight and the pair of leather gloves Spencer had bought me for Christmas. With them on, I stepped outside, just in time to hear a woman’s voice carry from the cabin’s open front door.
“That window. Right there.” She pointed to the side of the house as she barked at Larry. “He was standing right there, staring at me.”
“Ma’am—”
She growled. “Deputy, please stop calling me ma’am and find the creep spying on me.”
Hell. I did not have the energy to deal with a pissed-off woman tonight.
I blew out a long breath and made my way toward the cabin, glancing around as I walked. Footprints littered the snow. Some small. Some large.
“Larry,” I said as I came up behind him.
He whirled from his position on the stoop, his eyes wide and his belly straining the zipper on his black department coat. His frame sagged when he spotted me. “Sheriff.”
“What’s the problem?”
“I, uh . . .” He shifted his large frame out of the way.
“Are you his boss?” The woman inside stepped forward, crossing her arms over her chest. She was dressed in a cable-knit cream sweater and a pair of jeans that accented her long, toned legs.
Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, the curls thick and silky draped over one shoulder. Her nose, upturned slightly at the tip, was dusted with freckles. She had a square face, bold but elegant, with full, pouty lips.
I rocked slightly on my heels. This woman was a knockout. Definitely not what I’d expected to find on Cotters Lake.
Her big brown eyes locked with mine, and she arched a delicate eyebrow as she waited for me to answer her question.
“Yes, I’m his boss. Sheriff Cosi Raynes.”
“Ilsa Poe.”
“Ike’s daughter. I didn’t realize you were in Dalton.”
“I’ve only been here a week.”
A week was plenty of time for news to run through town.
Especially considering Sue Anne kept nothing from the prayer chain.
Newcomers were always the rumor mill’s hot topic in our small town, and no matter how many years I’d tried to avoid local gossip, it always seemed to find its way to the station.
But there hadn’t been a word about Ilsa.
Well, after tonight, that would change. Between Sue Anne, Larry and Chuck, the town would be abuzz come tomorrow morning.
Ilsa cast Larry a sideways glare as she stepped past him. “There was a man sneaking around the house. He was staring at me through my kitchen window.”
Probably because she was the most beautiful woman to grace Dalton in decades. At the moment, I was struggling not to stare myself.
“Can you describe him?” I asked.
“No.” She pursed her lips. “He was wearing a ski mask.”
“Cold night.” My breath billowed to prove my point.
“Or he didn’t want to be seen as he was violating my privacy.”
Now I understood why Larry had asked for backup.
He could break up a bar fight in less than a minute, go toe-to-toe with any man in Dalton County.
His six-foot-five frame was intimidating, part of why I’d hired him, even though he was usually a giant teddy bear.
But when it came to spirited, pretty women?
He lost his nerve and, more often than not, put his foot in his mouth.
“Would you mind if I take a look around?” I asked.
She swept out an arm. “By all means.”
I jerked my chin for Larry to follow me around the corner of the cabin. “Okay, what’s going on?”
He pulled off his stocking cap, raking a hand through his curly blond hair before putting the hat on again.
His cheeks were ruddy from the cold. “I got here and introduced myself. She was scared and shaking, so I tried to be nice. I told her it was probably a neighbor. You know how Sue Anne and Robert get. Figured I’d find their tracks in the snow and follow them to whoever was nosing around. ”
Exactly what I would have done. “Then why am I here, Larry?”
“There, um . . . there aren’t any tracks.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I circled the whole house. Twice. Couldn’t find anything. I told her there were no signs anywhere and asked if she’d been drinking.”
Oh, hell. I swallowed a groan. “Let me take a look around. Maybe it’s best you head into town.”
“Sorry, boss. I didn’t mean to insult her.”
“I know. I’ll handle it.” I clapped him on the shoulder, then nodded to his cruiser. “See you tomorrow at the station.”
As he lumbered across the icy driveway, I stepped into the snow-covered yard and pulled the small flashlight from my pocket. There might not have been tracks earlier, but they were everywhere now. I recognized Larry’s size thirteens as I circled the house as well as a smaller pair, probably Ilsa’s.
But there were no tracks cutting through the yard. No sign of a visitor coming off the driveway. So I headed for the front door, raising my hand to knock.