Page 76 of The Next Mrs. Parrish

I freeze, suddenly unable to move a muscle.

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DAISY ANN

As Daisy Ann’s plane began its descent into Gunnison, the sun was rising over a sea of wildflowers blanketing the mountains in vibrant shades of orange, yellow, blue, and purple. It was a glorious sight and one that filled her with nostalgia. She and her parents had never missed the annual wildflower festival held in July, and Daisy Ann had collected the official posters of every one of them. She turned from the window to face Mason seated next to her.

“I told myself I’d never come back here. I’m glad you’re with me. Thank you for coming,” she said.

He put his hand over hers and gently squeezed. “Of course. I wouldn’t have let you come alone.”

The plane touched down with a bump and eased along the runway to a stop. When she and Mason disembarked, Brian came walking toward them.

“Hi, Daisy Ann, Mason,” he said, shaking Mason’s hand. “Can I get your bags?”

“No bags. Just a small carry-on. I’ve got it,” Mason said.

They walked to the waiting Jeep, and Daisy Ann looked at her watch. “We’re meeting with the sheriff in half an hour, so maybe we should go right into town and grab a coffee there.”

“You don’t want to go to the house first? Brenda’s keeping some homemade cinnamon muffins warm for you,” Brian said.

“Maybe later.” Already filled with disquiet about what she was about to discover, Daisy Ann couldn’t face walking into that house right now. She was of a mind to get right back on the plane to Dallas after their meeting with the sheriff. “Let’s just go to the Coffee Company drive-through. We can park in front of the building and drink our coffees in the car till it’s time to go in.”

When Brian parked in front of the Public Safety Center where the Gunnison County Sheriff’s Office was housed, they still had twenty minutes to wait.

“How’re things?” Mason asked Brian as they sat in the car.

“Good, good,” he said, and proceeded to fill the time with small talk about the goings-on.

Daisy Ann half listened, too distracted to pay much attention to what the two men were saying. She was spending the time looking from her watch to the building and back again.

“It’s time,” she said, placing the half-full coffee cup in the holder and getting out of the car.

“You don’t have to wait, Brian. We’ll call you when we’re done,” Mason said.

“Nah, I’ll wait. It’s no problem.”

Mason nodded at Brian and followed Daisy Ann into the building.

“Mrs. Briscoe?” A thickset man with a balding head came toward them and extended his hand. “I’m Sheriff Campbell.”

“Hello.” They shook, and she put a hand on Mason’s back. “This is my husband, Mason Briscoe.”

“Nice to meet you both. Why don’t we go into my office.” He led them down the hall.

Once they were seated, he began. “First, let me say again how sorry we all were about what happened to your father. Jake Crawford was a fine man, and people here were saddened by such a tragic accident.” He stopped and opened a file on his desk. “Some evidence has come into our possession, however, that casts doubt on whether his death was accidental.”

Daisy Ann’s heart was beating so hard it felt like a hammer was thudding against her chest. “What kind of evidence?” she asked, leaning forward in her chair in an attempt to see what was in the folder.

“A young man has come forward with an SDXC card he found among his late father’s belongings. The card is from a game cam that was on your father’s property. It was recording on the day of the shooting.”

“I don’t understand.” Daisy Ann knew that all her father’s game cameras for tracking animal movement had been collected and searched by investigators at the time. None of the cameras had been turned on to record that day. “Are you saying the investigators missed one of my father’s cameras?”

“It wasn’t your father’s. It was the camera of a poacher, Levi Jones. Either the camera was very well hidden, or Levi removed it before the Bureau of Investigation came and took your father’s cameras. I believe he retrieved the camera after he heard about the shooting because he didn’t want us to find it. We don’t take kindly to poachers or them setting up game cams on other people’s property. That’s probably why he never turned the card over to us. Anyway, his son came across the card when he was sorting through his father’s things. He was curious to see what was on it, and after he viewed the video, he brought it to us.”

“What’s on it? There must be something on it or you wouldn’t be talking to me. I want to see it,” she said.

He put his hand up. “It’s very disturbing, but—”

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