Chapter 47
Marshall muffled a loud yawn with his fist as he watched the sun rise over the foothills. After a sad three hours of sleep, he had woken early to finish his morning work before meeting Agnes’s daughter, Callie.
The woman sounded rushed and fretful on the phone. She requested they meet at a coffee shop in town, which was a short drive for her from the town of Brantford. Callie was hesitant to speak to him, making Marshall doubt if she would show up at all.
Arriving at The Buttercup Bakery before the morning rush was the best way to avoid being seen by prying eyes. The streets were still dark under the soft orange light emerging from the east. His footsteps echoed on the pavement, sending a chill running down his spine.
Marshall wondered if he should have contacted the police with his suspicions first, but the reality was that he didn’t have much to tell them.
He suspected a crooked accountant of fraud.
A sweet older woman near the age of retirement was stealing funds from the ranch using the name of a false company?
It sounded far-fetched, even to Marshall; the police would think he had lost his mind.
Besides, he had absolutely no clue how this would even link up to Jack.
Agnes hadn’t been seen in the area for a while, which made her an unlikely murder suspect.
Were both situations even connected? There were more questions than answers at this point.
The Buttercup Bakery was aglow with lights and laughter, Edna helping out her daughter Imogen with the morning shift as was her habit.
Edna had “retired” years ago but still donned the light blue apron every morning and sipped her coffee while she helped with the first baking shift, packaging and displaying the enticing treats.
Her face lit up when she glanced at Marshall entering the bakery.
“There he is,” Edna said. “Our handsome rancher, back from the city. I was worried you’d never come back. Especially if your sweetheart is all the way over there now.”
Marshall blushed. “Edna, you know I could never stay away from you,” he teased. “How do you know Colette moved back to the city?”
“Gossip travels, honey,” she raised a brow. “What can I get you this morning?”
“I’m waiting for someone. I’ll have a cup of coffee and some of those profiteroles, please.” Marshall paid for his breakfast and strolled over to a booth in the corner, where he and Callie might be afforded some privacy. He didn’t wait long.
A few minutes after he sat down, a woman in her mid-thirties entered, a brightly colored pashmina draped around her neck.
Her hair was shoulder-length, dark, and slightly frizzy.
She wore thick-rimmed, round glasses and clutched her bag to her chest as though someone was going to steal it.
The woman’s gaze darted around the café until they rested on Marshall in the corner.
She strolled purposefully toward him and slid into the bench across from him.
Leaning forward, she looked around as though to verify that no one was watching them. Edna and Imogen jumped, since they were in fact staring at the odd woman, then casually began to chat as they headed into the kitchen behind the front counter.
“Marshall?” the woman asked, her voice quiet.
He nodded and indicated his coffee cup. “Can I get you anything?”
She shook her head briskly and laid her purse next to her on the bench.
Taking a few deep breaths, she pressed her palms to the Formica tabletop.
It was probably good that she didn’t have any coffee.
She was jittery already. Two fingers pushed up her glasses, and she lifted her dark umber gaze to lock with his.
Marshall was getting nervous just watching her.
“Thank you for meeting me, Callie. I appreciate it. Agnes worked for the King family for decades, and I’m just wondering if you could help me with locating her.”
Callie huffed. “That’s the thing. Sorry, I’m nervous. I haven’t had anyone to speak with about this.”
“Take your time,” Marshall encouraged. “Tell me what you think I should know. I don’t want to pry.”
“A few months ago, my mother became very agitated, stressed,” Callie explained. “You see, I’m used to her being fretful. She’s a real worrier. But for some reason, she was jumpy and kept telling me she thought someone was going to come after her.”
Taken aback, Marshall blinked, leaning back in the creaky pleather seat. “Why would anyone come after her? The ranch is such a safe place. Maybe she was working with another client?”
Callie shook her head. “No, she only had one client for years. The King family,” she clarified.
“We were playing cards one night and had a few glasses of wine, and she told me she had come across some errors in the finances. The King finances. She wasn’t sure who to tell.
A stranger came to talk to her and warned her to stop her investigation.
After that, she was terrified. Maybe they threatened her? I’m not sure.”
“Did she say who it was?”
“No, she was afraid to say it, in case the man made good on his threats. She was torn. He was a very powerful man and gave her a compelling reason to keep her mouth shut, but she wanted to come clean. My mother was a good woman.” Callie swallowed, drawing shapes in the top of the table.
Marshall’s stomach sank. The situation was worse than he imagined.
“Of course. She gave us many years of loyal service.”
“He offered her money… to keep everything a secret and leave town.”
Marshall’s hand curled around his mug of coffee. “What?” There were a few people who could have the desire or the means to offer a bribe like that.
“When she disappeared, I thought, no way, would she really just leave like that?” Callie said in a low voice, twisting a napkin in her hands.
“We’re so close. She just vanished without a trace, leaving just a note?
Nope, I don’t believe it. Just a quick goodbye email for you?
I need a coffee now.” Dabbing the napkin at the corner of her eyes, Callie gave a heavy sigh.
She left the booth and went to grab a cup of coffee from Edna, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
Agnes had been paid to run away? How likely was it that a mother would leave her child like that, especially if they were close, as Callie said?
Not very. Marshall thrummed his fingers on the table, his thoughts a storm in his head.
If Agnes didn’t leave town, where did she go? Clearly, someone needed her gone.
Had some awful person made her disappear?
Breathing rapidly, Callie returned to the booth, a hot mug of coffee pressed in her hand.
“Callie…I want to get this straight. And please be completely honest. Agnes worked for the King family for decades. She was a lovely woman. Never any trouble. She was organized and on top of everything, from what I could gather. I find it hard to believe that she would disappear, leaving our files and finances a mess, just like that.”
“Exactly,” Callie agreed, a breath stuttering in her chest. She took a sip of her coffee, her eyes downcast. “I think something bad happened to my mother.”
“Why didn’t you tell the police?”
“I did. Do you know how hard it is to convince police that a grown woman didn’t leave of her own volition?
When they saw the goodbye emails and letters, they wrote her off as a person who didn’t want to be found.
They wouldn’t even look. I’m telling you.
She wouldn’t leave me like that,” Callie’s breath shuddered in her chest. “She’s a good mother, and we’re very close.
” Callie sniffed, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“You’re right, something’s off about the whole thing,” Marshall agreed.
“I miss her so much.”
Marshall sobered, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “Fuck. You know one of my ranch hands was murdered, right?”
Inhaling sharply, Callie’s eyes widened. “Be careful, Marshall. There is a very dangerous person close to you.”
Dragging his fingers through his newly grown stubble, Marshall absorbed her words. “What do you think happened to Agnes?”
With a trembling lip, Callie traced the rim of her coffee cup. “I’m worried something awful was done to her. I asked the phone company to trace her cell phone, and there has been no activity. Same with her bank accounts and credit cards. I had to fight for that information, but I got it.”
That didn’t sound good.
For the woman to have been paid off and left freely, it was shitty, but not the worst-case scenario. For her to stop showing signs of life? It screamed foul play.
It was the connection between Agnes and Jack he both needed and never wanted to discover.
His breath locked in his chest as the mysterious circumstances surrounding the possible ends of two of his employees began to twine together, weaving into one dangerous reality.
There was a killer in their midst. He didn’t want to assume anything happened to Agnes, but Callie was convinced.
Tipping his mug to sip his coffee, the drink tasted like ashes in his mouth.
The money going to nowhere, the unfulfilled shipments, even the damage re-occurring on the ranch after constant repairs.
Jack’s murder, Agnes’s disappearance… Who could possibly benefit from this much destruction?
“Thanks for meeting me, Callie. I’m hoping, with your help, we can get to the bottom of this. I’d also like to formally file a missing person’s report with you. Maybe together, we can make the police listen."
"I’d appreciate that.” Callie blinked and pulled her phone out of her pocket. “I have to get to work. I hope you figure it all out, Marshall. And take care. Please.”
A shiver passed through him at her prophetic words, and Marshall followed Callie with his gaze as she left the bakery, her coffee sitting half-full in the bright blue mug on the table.
For a moment, Marshall wished he was smart.
He wished he could make connections as quickly as everyone else seemed to.
Someone had to die for him to finally see that something wasn’t right on the ranch.
Determined to sit down and figure it all out, he left the bakery.
He needed air to think. They had no enemies that he knew of, but maybe he was relying on old information.
Perhaps new enemies were hiding in plain sight.
The finances were the key. Someone wanted money. Someone wanted the King family to suffer. Starting his truck, Marshall stared sightlessly at the road before him. Driving always cleared his mind and helped him solve problems.
First, he would go have a chat with the men in the bunkhouse again. Maybe there was something they hadn’t told police. Something strange they never thought to connect to anything. He trusted those men with his life.
But maybe that was the problem.
He was trusting the wrong people.