Small Town Focus (The Reed Ferguson Mystery Series Book 14) by Renee Pawlish

Author:Renee Pawlish [Pawlish, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Creative Cat Press
Published: 2016-09-16T04:00:00+00:00

John Smith lived in a quaint ranch house on Fillmore Street, near the University of Denver campus. The neighborhood was filled with small houses on big lots, or McMansions that had been built where tiny houses used to be. I parked and had barely walked up to the minuscule front porch when the door opened.

“Come on in,” Smith said to me.

He showed me into a small living room furnished with a sage green couch and overstuffed chair that flanked a yellow brick fireplace. The carpet and walls were off-white, and the only decoration in the room was a painting of aspen trees that hung over the fireplace.

“Have a seat,” he ordered.

I sat down on the couch and he took the chair. He was in gray slacks and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his one nod to casual. He sat ramrod straight and stared at me with cold brown eyes.

“Gina should’ve never started down this path,” he said with a headshake. Then he changed direction. “Are you sure Marcia didn’t just leave for a few days? Maybe seeing her daughter overwhelmed her, and she needed some time to think.”

“It’s possible, but what if something did happen to her? Time is of the essence then.”

“This is crazy,” he muttered.

When he didn’t offer anything more, I said, “I got Marcia’s version of what happened back in 1985. How about telling me yours?”

“There’s not much to say.” He glanced away wistfully. “I was wandering a bit after college, working a series of odd jobs for years, not ready to settle down. I ended up in Sagebrush.”

“Where’d you go to college?”

“Back east.”

“Is that where you’re from?”

“Yes.” He arched an eyebrow slyly. “That’s all you need to know.”

“You were running away from something,” I said.

He ignored that. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“What’s your real name?”

He shook his head slowly. “You don’t need to know that.”

“What’re you hiding?”

“My past doesn’t have anything to do with this,” he snapped.

“How do you know?”

He ignored that, took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “When I got to Sagebrush, I started working at the dairy plant. I met Marcia and we fell in love, but since she was so much younger than I was, we kept it a secret. I’m sure she told you how her father could be.”

I nodded.

“Then she got pregnant and we decided to leave town, away from all of it.”

“All of what?”

He thought about his answer. “Her father. We left a month before she was due, and had gotten as far as Kansas when she had the baby.” He stopped, and pain flashed in his eyes.

“What happened that night?”

“We were at the hotel and they suddenly showed up.”

“Who?”

He again took time in answering, as if trying to decide how much to tell me. “They came for us, and there was a fight. Marcia tried to intervene, and she fell against the nightstand.” He looked away. “She was out cold. I bent over to try to help her, and they knocked me down and tied me up.

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