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  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Peggy Staggs | An Ensley Markus Mystery | Book 1

  Dedication:

  Acknowledgement:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  About the Author

  Road to Deception | Chapter One

  Peggy Staggs

  An Ensley Markus Mystery

  Book 1

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, public or private institutions, corporations, towns, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others.

  Visit the author at www.peggystaggs.com

  Formatting by www.kuznyafreelance.com, Smithing Good Fiction

  Copyright © 2015 Peggy Staggs

  ISBN# 978-0-9968599-2-9

  Dedication:

  This is for my husband and my son without whose support and encouragement I’d never been able to write.

  Acknowledgement:

  A special thanks to Dr. Matthew May and Dr. Linda Lobb DVM of the Cat Doctor.

  Books by Peggy Staggs

  House at Road’s End – An Ensley Markus Mystery Book 1

  Road to Deception – An Ensley Markus Mystery Book 2

  Spirit Road – An Ensley Markus Mystery Book 3

  Coming in of 2016

  Road to Redemption – An Ensley Markus Mystery Book 4

  Crossed Roads – An Ensley Markus Mystery Book 5

  Road to Justice – An Ensley Markus Mystery Book 6

  Past Roads – An Ensley Markus Mystery Book 7

  Chapter One

  “Emergency! Call me.”

  The text roused me from the lonely silence of compiling my research. Dad never texted. And what kind of an emergency would you text about? The muscles tensed in my neck. His small Idaho town was a lot less prone to crisis than the potential international incidents of my brother Cole’s CIA missions, or my Fructose-health Study at CBK Corp. Then there was Don March. We’d been seeing each other for nearly a year. There was a crisis in progress. He was Cole’s boss’s boss. Don had asked me to marry him last weekend. The very night I’d intended to break things off with him.

  My head pounded as the drab walls of my office closed in around me. The lab report in front of me pulsated, as the numbers began to tap dance around in my head. Five straight hours of analysis was taking its toll.

  I hit redial and waited until it went to voice mail. “Ralph Markus, leave a message.” That was just like him, right to the point.

  “Okay, Dad, what kind of emergency did you text about? Call me. I’ll worry.” I pressed end. “Fathers,” I said out loud. It was no surprise he’d contacted me. Cole spent most of the time out of reach. He’d retired three plus years ago and bought a bed and breakfast in Spirit Springs, Idaho. A bed and breakfast?

  My phone timed out and went black as I waited for his return call.

  I speed-dialed him again. It rang until it went to voice mail. Again. This time, I didn’t leave a message. He’d probably gone outside and left his phone on the table. He was always leaving it somewhere.

  Or had he had a heart attack? I clenched my phone tighter. He’d had chest pains last year. I insisted he go to a specialist in Boise for a complete checkup. It turned out to be chronic acid reflux. The doctor gave him some medication and a clean bill of health. Still, he was getting older and worked harder than he should. The old schoolhouse turned B&B needed a lot of upkeep. And Spirit Springs is hell-and-gone from anywhere. On the map, it looked tiny. In reality, it wasn’t much bigger. I didn’t know where the closest hospital was. He wouldn’t have texted me clear across the country for something like that. “What’s going on?” I said out loud.

  “Is there a problem?” My assistant Sophie’s voice brought me back to my office.

  I rubbed my complaining neck. “Just tired.” I believe in keeping personal things private. It became a defense mechanism growing up. Military kids are like cats. We learn early to keep things to ourselves for fear of showing weakness or appearing to be an outsider, or worse the new kid. Trying to keep things to myself never works with Sophie.

  Logically I should call someone in Spirit Springs and have them check on my father. The only flaw in the plan was I only knew one other person, Jane Smith. She was his sidekick, the person who did the cooking and helped out around the place. Yes, Jane would know something. I hoped she’d be there.

  Sophie dropped off another sheaf of papers and left. She was always in and out.

  I called the B&B.

  “Hello, House at Road’s End.”

  “Jane, this is Ensley Markus. Is my Dad there?”

  “You know, I haven’t seen him in a while. I called Jack. He told me he probably went fishing. I told him no, the fishing rod he’d been waiting on for a month got here today. He wouldn’t go without that.”

  A while was too vague. “How many days has he been gone?” I wondered who Jack was.

  “Three. And I don’t like it. He never leaves without telling me where he’s going and when he’ll be back.”

  “Do you have the Sheriff’s number?”

  “I do, but he went to Mullen today. I already called him. I talk to him every day. He asked for your number, I didn’t have it. I’ll give it to him now.” She paused. “Jack is good at his job, if anyone can find Ralph, he can.”

  She gave me his number. We hung up. I added, call Sheriff to my to-do list. I wondered why Dad had chosen Spirit Springs. There was nothing there to attract visitors. When I’d mentioned that, he’d said it was an investment. I pointed out that the idea of an investment was to make money, not lose it.

  Sophie returned with a smile and coffee. “Sounds like you need a break.” She held a carrier of coffee in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. “I brought a snack.” Sophie’s mother is Italian and always sending food to work with her daughter. Half of me, the impulse half, couldn’t wait to see what goodies lived in the bag. The other half, the logic part, knew I had to lose five pounds. Too much sitting behind this desk.

  Sophie, who’s never shy about inserting herself in the lives around her, pointed to my cell phone. “Keeping things to yourself will give you ulcers. Now.” She sat down. “What’s wrong?”

  I pushed some reports aside in anticipation of the bag. “It’s Dad.” I picked up my still dark cell phone. It glared at me in s
inister silence. I laid it on the stack of papers in front of me. “I got a text telling me he had an emergency.” Irrationally, I felt if I didn’t touch my phone, I could go back to the safety of my research and not have to deal with an emergency a couple of thousand miles away. One I most probably couldn’t do anything about. On my to-do list I scrawled, check on Dad in 30 minutes.

  “What kind of emergency do you text about?”

  “Exactly. I called and the woman who works for him said he hasn’t been around in three days. She’s already called the Sheriff. I’ll call her again later.”

  “The last set of stats are printing. They should be sending them down any minute. Right now, we eat.” Sophie set the coffee down on the empty spot on my desk. “So, how’s everything going with that hunky Don March? Still breaking it off?”

  Like I said, she has no trouble inserting herself into my life. And her family had adopted me the first time I met them. I liked having a second group who genuinely cared for me. She is a great research assistant and I like her a lot. She smiled and opened the sack, revealing two dozen of her mother’s homemade molasses cookies. Right in front of me. Impulse had defeated logic. I took a cookie.

  “Yes.”

  “Girl, I don’t know why you’re not grabbing that one up. What’s not to want? He’s great looking, and his career is taking off like a rocket.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s complicated.” I thought about the ring in my purse. He’d insisted I think about the engagement.

  “If you’re sure you’re done with him, he’s more than welcome to come over and complicate with me.”

  “Mama wouldn’t approve.” Yup. It was Mama and Papa when I went there for Sunday dinner every week. “First he isn’t Italian, and second he’s too old for you. He’s forty. And third—”

  “Forty’s the new twenty.” She popped the last of a cookie in her mouth. “And who says it’s permanent? You know me, I like to keep moving.”

  She had no idea. Since he’d proposed he was pushing me marry him. Pushing hard. Daily. I looked at the roses on the corner of my desk. I wasn’t going to tell her I’d taken the ring out of shock. The night he’d asked me to marry him was the night I’d planned on ending the relationship. It wasn’t working. And if it wasn’t working now, it never would. I shake my head at women who say, ‘he’ll change when we get married, have a baby, he has a different job.’ It’s a kind of fill-in-the-blank situation. The reality is they don’t change. I changed the subject. “How are the report numbers shaking out?”

  “Great. They’re exactly what you thought they’d be.” Sophie’s voice held a breath of exhilaration. “I know you’re going to get an award for your research. It’s amazing. No one has any idea.” Her face was lit with the excitement of success.

  A mountain of reports threatened to collapse the credenza across the room from my desk. Multi-colored Post-it notes stuck out at all angles, giving the pile a bizarre Easter bonnet appearance. I did love my research. There’s nothing like a good puzzle and if it sets things right, that’s a bonus. “Our research,” I corrected. “I’m putting your name on it, too.”

  “Oh.” She put her hand up to her mouth. “I had no idea. How incredibly kind. Thank you. Mama will be...” A tear rolled down her cheek. “She’ll be so proud.” Another tear.

  “Don’t do that.” I couldn’t let her cry. I’d start too. I hate to cry. It was right up there on my most hated list after throwing up. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” I had to change the subject before we both started blubbering. “Are we still going for mani-pedis tonight?” A few years ago, with the help of Sophie, I discovered the wonderful world of girl stuff. I’d been too busy becoming a doctor and to be honest I was that smart kid who never thought about clothes or hair or makeup. Now I wore Christian Louboutin shoes and had a closet full of beautiful dresses. A social life to match the clothes. Not to mention a good looking man who’d just asked me to marry him.

  Sophie cleared her throat. “I’m glad we took those blond highlights out of your hair. You are so not a blond. Besides if you let it grow out a little more it’s going to look hot. I mean seriously hot. You’re going to have to beat Don off with a bat.” She paused only for a second. “Remember that eyeshadow we had specially made to match our eye color? They called, your gray finally came in. It took longer because not many people have gray eyes.”

  »§«

  An hour later Bryan Longmont, the VP of development for CBK Corp., stuck his head in my office. “Dr. Markus, would you join us in the conference room? Please.” The last word sounded forced.

  Longmont never said please. He was the kind of boss who didn’t bother with niceties. A mixture of curiosity and apprehension accompanied me into the meeting area. I was the last of my team to arrive.

  Sean Roth, the president of the company, entered and stood at the head of the table as the fifteen members of my team and I stood at the other end.

  Finally, President Roth said, “Bryan, the door.” He glanced around the now silent room.

  This gathering had limited outcomes. A. We were getting an award for the Fructose research. B. They were going to announce our next project. Or, C. They were pulling the plug.

  They couldn’t pull the plug. These findings were too important. It was groundbreaking.

  The rumblings had begun a week ago. Vague at first, then growing to more specific rumors. They had a ring of truth to them. The lobby for the corn industry wasn’t happy with my findings. A pang of apprehension caught in my throat. I struggled to fill my glass half-full with the thoughts of the future. This had to be about a new project. A big one with my whole team here. In truth, that’s what was draining my glass of optimism.

  The expression on Longmont’s face, told me there weren’t going to be any champagne corks popping today. I leaned against the wall, hoping against hope I was wrong, knowing I wasn’t.

  Sophie stepped up beside me. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes, her gaze firmly fixed on the carpet at her feet. She hugged in beside me as if she needed human contact. She always knew what was going on. I put on my best stone face and steeled myself against what was coming.

  President Roth cleared his throat. “We have some bad news. As you all know, recently we’ve lost two large contracts. As a result, we’re going to have to make some cuts. We’ve had to make some hard decisions.” He scanned the room, avoiding any eye contact as he tugged on his tie.

  Sophie sobbed softly.

  I took a deep breath. This was shaping up worse than I’d imagined.

  “We’re shutting this team down. We’ll be happy to furnish everyone with letters of recommendation. You’re asked to return to your desks, gather your personal items and leave the building immediately. You may not take any research data or company materials. Thank you for your dedication.”

  With everyone in shock, the only men with jobs left the room. Over the stunned silence, one man shouted at the retreating president. “Runaway, you lousy son-of-a-bitch. How am I going to feed my three kids?”

  As if he’d flipped a switch, everyone erupted in a mixture of angry words, tears, and one sharp bang on the wall.

  When Sophie and I went to our area, we found several security people removing documents from our offices.

  “Longmont.” I walked over to where he stood directing the confiscation of my research papers. “How could you let this happen? You know as well as I do, it’s going to change a lot of thinking.” I felt a tear run down my face. Damn it. “And...and.” I braced myself. They were dumping all my work into bins marked shred. Shred!

  “I know.” He shook his head. “As much as I’d like to tell you there was another position for you here, I can’t. I’m sorry.” He bowed his head, then said in a low voice, “If I were you, I’d leave town. You didn’t hear this from me, but because of your findings no one is going to hire you in the research business. The people in power were too strong this time. You’ve been blacklisted.”

  I stare
d at him. This couldn’t be happening. Not only had I lost my job, Longmont was telling me my career was over in the field I loved. “How? I mean...” I took a deep breath and slipped into my best I’m-going-to-kick-your-butt attitude and said, “Who did this?”

  His shoulders slumped. “I’m—I’m sorry. It came from outside the company. And from someone with a lot of power.” He’d actually sounded sorry.

  Big deal.

  He turned back to the men stealing my research. My life.

  I wanted to spin him around, punch him right in the face and force him tell me who was responsible for all of this.

  My cell rang. Automatically I answered, “Hello.”

  “Is this Dr. Markus?” The voice was warm and deep.

  “Yes.” The word came out more forceful than I’d intended. Hey, I was pissed. And if I took it out on the person on the other end of the phone...so what?

  “This is Sheriff Jack Trace, in Spirit Springs, Idaho.” He paused.

  I turned away from the chaos. “Have you found my dad?”

  “No. I’m sorry Ralph’s still missing. He’s been gone for three days. I thought he’d gone fishing. I just got back from checking all his usual spots. He wasn’t at any of them.”

  “No, no you’re wrong. I got a text from him an hour ago.” I told the Sheriff what he’d said and that he hadn’t answered my texts or my call.

  “Do you want me to put the investigation on hold for now?”

  “No. Don’t. I...you have to find him.” Dad was my rock. He’d always been there. Even when he’d been away on assignment with the Air Force. I’d been able to call or write to him. It had always made me feel better. Always. My lifeline to the real world snapped. “Please.”

  I watched as my phone slipped from my hand and fall to the floor.

  I had to get to Idaho.

  Chapter Two

  I walked out the front door of CBK Corp. for the last time. The concrete surrounding the modern building lay cold and barren as it stretched to the parking lot. I stared down at the cardboard box in my hands. My career was over. The past four years were stuffed in this one small container.