Buried Mountain Secrets. Terri Reed

and headed to the sheriff’s office. Pausing in the doorway, he addressed the older man sitting at the oak desk. “Sir, we really need to do something about Patrick Delaney and his treasure hunt.”

      Sheriff James Ryder ran a hand through his silver hair. “If I thought there was something to be done, I’d do it. I’ve talked to Patrick. Mayor Olivia has talked to Patrick. Even the feds have talked to Patrick. The old coot won’t relent. He’s the town’s biggest supporter so there’s only so much pressure we can exert on him. He’s within his legal rights.”

      Frustration beat a steady tempo at the back of Alex’s head. “It’s only a matter of time before we have issues here in Bristle Township.”

      “Don’t borrow trouble, Trevino,” the sheriff said. “How are your plans for the festival coming along?”

      Alex was in charge of the security measures for the upcoming Harvest Festival and parade. “Good. The auxiliary volunteers have committed to patrolling Main Street. Between the volunteers, Kait, Daniel, Chase and me, we’ll have the festival covered.”

      “What about the parade?”

      “That, too.”

      The outer office door to the department banged open. Alex spun, his hand going to his holstered weapon. The other three deputies on duty rose from their desk chairs and took similar on-guard stances.

      An older man with wisps of gray hair covering his head and a panicked expression rushed into the station house. Ethan Johnson.

      “Mr. Johnson, can I help you?” the station receptionist, Carole Manning, hurriedly trailed after him.

      “Come quick,” Ethan said to the room at large. “It’s the Gallos.”

      Though he relaxed his stance, alarm threaded through Alex’s veins. An image of a dark-haired beauty rose in Alex’s mind. He’d seen Maya Gallo just this morning standing in the window of the hardware store. Though he didn’t know the woman well, he found her to be pleasant when she helped him with tack and such for his horse, Truman. “What’s happened?”

      “I was there this morning, but I had to come back because I forgot to get some bedding for the nests in my chicken coop and the store is closed. Only the door is unlocked. It’s not like Maya to leave the store unattended. Something’s happened.”

      The sheriff stepped out of his office. “Now, Ethan, I’m sure Maya and Brady are fine. Maybe they are at the diner having a late lunch or have gone home for the day and forgot to lock up. Let’s not jump to unnecessary conclusions.”

      Ethan shook his head. “No, Sheriff. I tell you, this isn’t like Maya. And Brady was all riled up this morning about something.”

      “Probably the treasure,” Carole stated with a sage nod. “Brady is big into finding the treasure and a new clue was released this morning.”

      Alex glanced at his superior, then back to Carole. “But the clue could be anywhere in the Rocky Mountains.”

      “True.” She walked over to his desk and sat at the computer, her fingers flying over the keys. “Here. Take a look at this. Mr. Delaney put up a partial map.”

      They all huddled around the desk to look at the computer screen.

      “That could be Eagle Crest.” Deputy Daniel Rawlings towered over them at nearly six-three and pointed to a spot on the screen.

      “Or it could be any number of mountains from Canada to New Mexico,” Kaitlyn pointed out, flipping her blond ponytail over her shoulder. “There’s no way to be sure that’s our Eagle Crest Mountain.”

      “Well, whatever the case,” the sheriff said, “we need to do our jobs and make sure our citizens are safe.” He pinned Alex with a hard look. “Find the Gallo siblings.”

      Glad to be put in charge, Alex nodded. “Yes, sir.”

      “Ethan, let me walk you out.” The sheriff gestured for the other man to leave with him.

      “Okay, you heard the sheriff,” Alex said. “Kait, get the Gallos’ home address from Carole and see if the Gallos are there. Daniel, you go to the store and check it out. See if there are signs of a struggle or something that will tell us why Maya closed up early.”

      “What do you want me to do?” Deputy Chase Fredrick asked. He was the youngest and newest of the deputies. Medium height and lean with sandy-blond hair and dark blue eyes, he had a boyish face hidden by a well-trimmed, close-cropped beard.

      “You’re with me,” Alex told him.

      “Got it.” Chase went back to his desk to grab his jacket.

      “What are you going to do?” Kaitlyn’s hazel eyes filled with concern and curiosity.

      Grabbing his jacket and shrugging into it, he said, “If Brady and Maya are out hunting for treasure, they most likely started at the Eagle Crest trailhead.”

      * * *

      Alex brought his sheriff’s-department-issued SUV to a halt in the parking lot at the lower trailhead of Eagle Crest Mountain. Chase pulled in next to him in an identical SUV. Alex noted five other vehicles in the lot. His gaze zeroed in on a mountain bike in the bike rack near the trailhead kiosk.

      Brady’s bike. The teenager had ridden down Main Street this morning. Alex hadn’t thought much about it at the time. Now it made sense. Brady was trying to find the Delaney treasure. The map that had been released this morning, though pretty generic, could arguably have some similarities to the mountain trail ahead of him. Alex climbed out of the SUV and met Chase at the bike rack.

      “What now, boss?” Chase asked.

      Alex tried not to flinch at the word boss. He wasn’t the boss. He knew there were those in the department and in town looking for Alex to step into the role of sheriff when the old man retired, which he’d been threatening to do for the last three years that Alex had been on the force.

      That the sheriff put him in charge of this investigation didn’t mean anything. Sheriff Ryder usually picked one of his deputies to take point.

      The sun hung low in the sky. Shading his eyes, Alex gauged they had only a few more hours of daylight left. “We’ll cover more ground on horseback,” he told Chase.

      The Bristle County Sheriff’s Department continued the long tradition of patrols on horseback like many Western states. Comprised of both armed deputies and unarmed civilian volunteers, also referred to as auxiliary members, the patrol provided mounted search and rescue as well as mounted community and forest patrols.

      “Get on the horn with Carole and round up as many civilian volunteers available. Then run every license plate here. I’m going home to get Truman,” Alex stated, referring to his horse. “I’ll meet you back here in one half hour. Keep an alert eye out for Maya Gallo and her brother. If they come out of the forest, radio me.”

      “Will do.” Chase walked away, already using his shoulder radio to contact the station’s dispatcher.

      Alex sped home and in the short time it took him to return to the trailhead, towing Truman in the horse trailer, there were three other civilian volunteers with their horses waiting.

      “Riley, Trevor.” Alex shook the father’s hand and then the teenage son’s hand. The Howard men were dedicated volunteers. “Thank you for coming.” There was no mistaking the family resemblance between the father and son. They also had identical quarter horses.

      Then Alex shook hands with the third volunteer, local dress shop owner, Leslie Quinn, a pretty blonde with blue eyes. Leslie stared at him warily as she stood beside her sturdy paint sporting pink bows tied to its mane. No doubt for the upcoming parade. “Deputy.”

      Alex didn’t know the reserved woman well. She tended to keep to herself when they were on patrol. “Leslie, appreciate you joining us.”

      Chase hurried over. Alex gave