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  SHINNEY FOREST CLOAKS

  A ROYCE MADISON MYSTERY: 3

  Scarlet Clover Publishers, LLC

  Littleton, Colorado

  Copyright © 2015 Kieran York

  Shinney Forest Cloaks

  By Kieran York

  Published August 2015

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. This includes electronic or mechanical, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, except for the quotations or brief quotations used in critical articles or reviews, without prior permission from Scarlet Clover Publishers.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, locales, and events either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Literary Editor / Interior Design

  Rogena Mitchell-Jones

  www.rogenamitchell.com

  Cover Art and Design Director—Karen Badger

  Photograph—Kieran York

  Original Cover Design Concept—Beth Mitchum

  Published by Scarlet Clover Publishers LLC

  www.kieranyork.com and www.scarletcloverpublishers.com

  P.O. Box 621002; Littleton, Colorado 80162

  Printed and bound in the United States of America, UK, and Europe

  SHINNEY FOREST CLOAKS

  A ROYCE MADISON MYSTERY: 3

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Other Books by Kieran York

  Acknowledgments

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Coming Attractions

  About the Author

  OTHER BOOKS BY KIERAN YORK

  Touring Kelly’s Poem

  Loitering on the Frontier

  Night Without Time

  Earthen Trinkets

  Careful Flowers

  Appointment with a Smile

  Sugar with Spice (Short Fiction)

  Blushing Aspen (Poetry)

  Realm of Belonging

  Crystal Mountain Veils (A Royce Madison Mystery)

  Timber City Masks (A Royce Madison Mystery)

  Poetry Contributor to Sappho’s Corner Poetry Series:

  Wet Violets, Volume 2

  Roses Read, Volume 3

  Delectable Daisies, Volume 4

  Forthcoming 2015

  Within Our Celebration

  Trevar’s Team: 1 (A Beryl Trevar Mystery)

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  I’m grateful for the Scarlet Clover Team of Friends.

  I thank Beth Mitchum, Rogena Mitchell-Jones, Karen D. Badger, Martha Ryan, and CEO Clover York.

  Thank you all for your contributions.

  I’m blessed that you are in my life.

  To quote Royce Madison—You are all plenty amazing!

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to

  Rogena Mitchell-Jones

  What a privilege and pleasure to have Rogena as my editor and friend. Her brilliant edits give life to my words.

  And I thank her.

  CHAPTER 1

  SUMMER, 2010 — TIMBER COUNTY, COLORADO

  There was an uneasy feeling situated between Royce’s pain and her anger.

  Sheriff Royce Madison’s long slim legs nearly buckled as she sat in the familiar oak rocking chair. Her tall frame reflected exhaustion. Her light complexion was tanned, and the rugged handsomeness of her expression was anxiety-riddled. Her dimpled smile seemed nearly forgotten. Her life was now forever different.

  Nothing had changed in the front office of Timber City Colorado’s Main Street newspaper. Gwen Ives, the publisher of The Timber City Times, looked up and across the desk.

  Gwen’s nod of the head acknowledged her lifetime friend. “Any word from Hertha?”

  “Nope. I don’t imagine I’ll hear from her. She’s obviously going to give herself time to make her final decision. And to cool off.”

  “Royce, she knows you’re heartbroken. But she doesn’t feel she has a choice.”

  Royce’s eyes began to fill. She blinked back the tears. It had been fifteen years since she’d first been elected sheriff of Timber County. Up until the last year, those had been the most wonderful years of her life. It seemed a lifetime ago when everything stopped being precious. From the time she was a twenty-eight-year-old woman, in love, the world had been perfect.

  Her slender face looked gaunt. Her short blonde hair was showing strands of gray. It limply flattened against her head as she removed her Sheriff’s Department Stetson. Small wrinkles gathered near her blue eyes. Showing in her body was the defeat she felt.

  Now, at forty-two, her happiness was unraveling. The woman she’d spent a decade and a half with had returned to a Ute reservation a few months ago to care for her ailing mother. When Hertha White’s mother died, everything became complicated.

  Hertha’s mother had been the guardian of her only two grandchildren. When Hertha left to take care of her mother, it included caring for her young niece and nephew. Ray, her brother, had died a year ago in a car accident. He was the sole guardian of his children since his wife—the children’s mother, had run off.

  After Hertha’s mother had died, both Royce and Hertha attempted to find the children’s long-lost mother. Finally, it was discovered their mother had died of a drug overdose.

  With her mother’s death, Hertha became the children’s only living relative. She told Royce she’d decided to stay on at the family home near their reservation. She didn’t want to disrupt the children’s lives any more than they’d already been. They should be near their culture, she’d added.

  “I begged her to bring the children and return to Timber City. We could raise them together.”

  “Royce, she knew you didn’t want children. You’d been adamant about that the first few years you were with her. Why would she entertain the idea of having kids intrude into your life? You’d made it crystal clear you weren’t interested in being a parent. She asked me why you feel the way you do. I have no idea.”

  “I didn’t want children. Whatever it was—or is, it’s my own private issue.” Royce’s body eased down in the chair. “I told her I would be willing to raise them with her. Hertha told me another version. The reason she needed to stay there was to raise the children in their own environment. As well as encourage younger Ute children to better themselves. She can be an example for her niece and nephew as well as tribal children. And since there aren’t many veterinarians in the area, she wants to help.”

  Gwen looked away a moment, then covered her expressive, bronze eyes. Her short, neatly clipped hair was graying as she eased into her sixties. Age never slowed her down, she boasted. Yet her walk was slightly slower. She sighed. “Hertha is a kind person. She made a decision she thought was best for everyone. Not just your relationship. She made certain there was a replacement to take over her animal clinic. She tied up any loose ends as best she could.”

  “I was a loose end that wasn’t resolved.” Royce stood nearly defiantly. “She failed to find me a replacement. How could she not know I considered her irreplaceable? Even when Smoky was dying—she wasn’t there for me… or for Smok
y.”

  Gwen’s eyes narrowed. She knew how the loss of Royce’s first and only pet had impacted Royce. Smoky, the small silver-colored schnauzer, was not only Royce’s constant companion but also beloved by the entire community. She was to be known as Deputy Smoky. “Hertha loved Smoky, too. But your dog was fifteen and you both knew poor Smoky had developed health problems. You both knew she was dying. There wasn’t anything Hertha could have done for Smoky. Be fair. Hertha couldn’t leave the children and her own dying mother. Smoky had you. As well as all the rest of us who loved her. So don’t be unreasonable.”

  “I needed Hertha when I lost Smoky.” Royce felt her teeth grind in anger and pain. The schnauzer had been Royce’s constant companion. And she had been Hertha’s dog. Smoky had protected Hertha and helped save her life.

  “You’re upset about everything right now, Royce,” Gwen commented as she looked back at the trailing proofs of newsprint. “Your Gran is in her eighties, and I know you’re concerned about her. Even though she’s in good condition. Now, with Hertha and Smoky both out of your life, I can see you’re feeling abandoned. Life as a small mountain town sheriff has seemed to have become an albatross hanging from your neck.”

  Royce stood. “Pretty amazing. You’re combining a literary narrative with my life. The woman I am in love with has left me. My dog has died. Don’t you get it? I’m devastated.” She turned to leave.

  With a parting half-wave goodbye, Gwen said, “Royce, I’m on your side. The sooner you get over this, the better off you’ll be. Your life will go on. The worst is behind you.”

  “Nothing more can possibly go wrong.” As Royce plodded toward the door, she turned back to Gwen. There was pity in the older woman’s eyes. Again, the thought repeated itself through her mind. Nothing else could go wrong today.

  Sheriff Royce Madison had never been more incorrect.

  * * * * *

  When her police radio that was clipped to her gunbelt squawked, she answered. It was Timber County’s newly hired dispatcher, Wanda Thurlow.

  “Sheriff Madison, there’s been a missing person’s report.”

  Royce braced. She knew everyone in town. That fact and the vibration in Wanda’s usually strong voice told her it was a Timber City resident. Her first fear was that it was a child abduction.

  Royce inhaled deeply, and then asked, “Got a name? And who issued the report?”

  Wanda rushed her words, “Rita Griffin. Waitress at the Eagle Inn. She’s been missing for over forty-eight hours. Jade over at the Bell Ringer called. She said her sister-in-law had gone missing.”

  “Go ahead and pull Rita Griffin’s driver’s license photo, and let’s get ready to issue an alert. I’m just across the street from the Bell Ringer. I’ll check it out.” Royce was puzzled. Rita Griffin had only arrived in Timber City a few months ago and for what was to be a short visit with her brother, Knox. Knox was married to Jade Arnall Griffin.

  Although Royce had known Jade since she was a child growing up, she’d only met Knox a few years ago when Jade and Knox were married. The sheriff knew his sister, Rita, even less well. The flighty waitress lived in a small apartment above the Eagle Inn.

  Rita Griffin was an attractive woman with a sexy figure she used to her advantage. Her walk was between a strut and a slink, Royce thought. Her pleasant features were surrounded by a new hairdo every day or two. And often, her hair color changed—ranging from light to dark and sometimes it looked doused in various rainbow colors.

  Walking through the Bell Ringer’s door, Royce spotted both the owner of the Bell Ringer, Faye Arnall, and her daughter, Jade. Over the years, Faye and Jade looked more alike than they did when Jade was younger. Other than the obvious difference in age, both women shared the same facial formation. There were now strands of silver in Faye’s rusty-hued hair. Shapely, Faye’s demeanor was flirty and loud. Jade was pouty and sulky.

  “Rita Griffin is missing?” Royce inquired.

  “We haven’t seen or heard from her for the last two days,” Jade’s words rushed. “She always calls me. We’re best friends. She’s in constant contact with both me and Knox.”

  “Where’s Knox?” Royce questioned.

  Faye took a deep breath before reporting on her son-in-law. “That little fucker is out looking for his sister. Probably looking in the bedroom of every single woman in the county.”

  “Mom,” Jade interrupted. “Let’s keep our attention on Rita. Damn, if she were leaving, she would have told me. Something’s very wrong.”

  Royce eased onto the barstool in front of Faye. “I’ll issue a BOLO to get the search started. After the report, we’ll have a statewide missing person’s APB. Jade, can you think of anywhere she might have gone? Or any reason she had to have gone?”

  “Royce, I’ve looked everywhere I can think of. Took the whole day yesterday. I went up to Crystal Mountain and checked the little bars there. I went to her mini-apartment over the Eagle Inn. Mac Gentry let me in. Nothing looks like a struggle or that anything happened inside her room.”

  Royce knew Mac and Ursula Gentry. They were proprietors of the small café, tavern, and lodging inn. “So you checked with Mac. When did he say was the last time he saw Rita?”

  “After her shift ended the night before last. She collected her tips and went, or he supposed she had, up to her room.”

  Royce glanced around. “I’ll check with him. Has she mentioned any altercations?”

  Jade considered the question carefully. “She was always irritating someone. But I don’t think she’s pissed anyone off badly enough to hurt her. I’m frightened. Royce, she wouldn’t have left without telling me.” Her red eyes bunched and filled. “It always annoys me ‘cause she calls and texts a hundred times a day for every little thing.”

  Faye nodded agreement. “Yeah. Every time Rita takes a shit, she’s gotta tell Jade. That’s why I didn’t want her working here. Blab, blab, blabbing all the time. None of us could get our work done.”

  Royce leaned forward. “So she goes to work for Mac and she’s his problem?”

  “Pretty much,” Faye answered with a burst of laughter. “He’s easy going. Probably lets Rita get by with anything she wants.”

  “Ursula is an old bear,” Jade disputed, “and Rita claimed she was always acting suspiciously about Mac and Rita.”

  Royce frowned. “Ursula and Mac have been married for a couple decades. And, as I recall, in their relationship, she has Mac leashed, so I don’t imagine Rita is too much of a threat.”

  Jade shrugged. “All the same, Ursula hates Rita. And she was always shouting at her to get back to work.”

  Royce grinned as her glance caught Faye rolling her eyes. “So Ursula wasn’t friendly. But did she dislike Rita enough to send her packing or do her harm?”

  “Royce,” Jade quickly blurted, “you know Ursula wouldn’t have hurt anyone. And as for sending my best friend packing—her room was just like it always looks. No scuffle. And all of her belongings were there. Nothing out of place. Besides, weren’t you listening? Rita wouldn’t have run off without telling me. No way.”

  Royce stood. “Okay, Jade. We’re going to look for her. I’ll go over and talk to Mac. If you can think of anything else that would be of interest in the investigation, let me know.”

  “Sure. But I doubt if you give a damn about my friend.” Jade’s words were surly. Sometimes they were hateful toward Royce. Royce felt her squint becoming a glare. She was glad Jade had turned and walked away toward the door. Over her shoulder, she yelled back, “I’m going to look for her. You and your deputies can sit there on your asses all day. You all think she’s just acting out her wild ways by playing games. This is not a game and she’s in trouble.”

  Before Royce could walk after her, Faye called the sheriff back. “Hey, Royce, don’t take offense. You know Jade will never get over the fact you put her father in prison.”

  Royce clamped her jaws tightly. Then she uttered, “Her father put himself in prison. He murdered my fathe
r—as well as two other innocent people. He attempted to murder my lady—ex-lady and me. He’s on death row because I arrested him. I didn’t try the case. I didn’t adjudicate the proceedings. I didn’t pronounce his death sentence for having murdered three people, one of them a lawman. I merely arrested him. And I’m not apologizing for it.”

  “I know you only did your job.”

  “And Faye, he could have murdered me. He attempted to murder me. Is Jade forgetting that?”

  “She understands her father isn’t a saint. She’s got his damned DNA. Since Jade found out for sure Yancy’s her father, she’s been even more upset with you. Talk is that you’re going to go before the Review Board and recommend the upcoming execution be carried out. Now it’s getting nearer. Even Molly and your Gran spoke up in his favor not to execute. They said life in prison was fine with them. But you want him dead.”

  “My mother and grandmother are religious, and they don’t believe in the State killing murderers. That’s their prerogative.”

  Royce examined Faye’s eyes. Those eyes had been dulling for fifteen years. She’d tried chasing men—but through the years, even that didn’t take her mind from losing her former lover. Now, after all the time had passed, the light in her eyes was nearly extinguished. Since the man she had loved and fathered her child had been arrested and sentenced, Faye’s very spirit had been wounded.

  First, wounded because she’d loved someone who was capable of cold-hearted murder. Secondly, that her daughter’s father had acted in such a heinous way. Yet she showed only minimal anger toward Royce—unlike her daughter.

  “Yancy was always good to Jade. He knew she was his, even if he pretended she wasn’t. Then, when the test came back, Jade took to sticking up for him. I know he did wrong, Royce. I accept he’s paying for it now. And he will ultimately pay with his life. He shot a fellow lawman to death. And time is getting near for him to pay.”