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herself that she didn’t feel a day over thirty.
    That was, until she tried to get up from where she’d been sitting on the floor and her body reminded her that she was hugging sixty. It was an odd feeling. Her life had always been ahead of her. Now most of it was behind her.
    The girl had stopped just inside the door and turned to look out the front window. She was a skinny little thing with long, pale blond hair that fell most of the way down her back.
    As if deep in thought, the girl didn’t seem to hear Nettie’s approach. Which, of course, made Nettie wonder what she found so interesting out the window.
    Looking past her, Nettie followed the girl’s gaze to where three men stood talking in front of the post office up the street. She recognized two local ranchers. The third man was Sheriff Frank Curry.
    “Can I help you?”
    The girl jumped and spun around, eyes wide. She was pretty, with big, dark eyes, and older than Nettie had first thought, still somewhere in her late teens, though.
    “I’m sorry,” Nettie said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” But she had, and badly.
    It took a moment for the girl to catch her breath and speak. “I’m here about the apartment?”
    Nettie studied her. She’d hoped to get a man, preferably one who could watch the place. With her house on the mountain behind the store, Nettie lived far enough away that she wouldn’t hear if the store was being burglarized during the night. Last fall a grizzly had broken the back window. Thankfully, something had scared the bear away or it could have gotten in and made one devil of a mess.
    “I was hoping to rent it to a man,” she said.
    The girl’s disappointment was almost palpable. “It’s just that there aren’t any other places to stay in Beartooth.”
    That was because few people had any reason to come here, Nettie almost said. Big Timber was only twenty miles away and had a lot more amenities.
    Nettie glanced from the girl to her small, newer model compact car parked in front of the store. “I would need first and last month’s rent and a deposit.” She named a number, a little higher than she’d originally planned to ask. She figured that would put an end to it.
    “Okay,” the girl said. “I have cash.”
    Cash? “How long were you thinking of renting the place?”
    “I’m not sure. I’d be happy to pay for six months in advance if you’d consider me,” she added quickly.
    Six months? “Mind if I ask what brings you to Beartooth?”
    The girl brushed a lock of hair back from her face and lifted her chin almost as if in defiance. “I’m applying to art school in the fall and I need somewhere to work on my portfolio.”
    It sounded reasonable. Even possibly true. So why did Nettie feel as though the girl had practiced it?
    “I really would appreciate it if you would consider renting to me,” she said, pleading in her tone.
    All red flags. “Shouldn’t you see the apartment first?”
    “Yes, of course.” The girl was visibly nervous, but Nettie reminded herself that she was young. This was probably her first apartment. No doubt her mother and father would be paying the rent and for her art school, as well. So Nettie wouldn’t have to worry about bounced checks anyway.
    “Come with me,” she said. “There is a private entrance outside up the stairs, but you can also get to the apartment through here.” She led the way, with each step telling herself to pass on this girl.
    But curiosity had always been Nettie Benton’s downfall. And there was something about this girl—and her desperation to live in Beartooth.

CHAPTER FOUR
    S HERIFF F RANK C URRY had always prided himself on his patience. He was used to the state crime lab being backed up for weeks, if not months. Investigations took time. Some arrests weren’t made for months and didn’t go to trial for years. Justice moved slowly, as most of Montana wasn’t automated. Things were done the way they’d been done for years, especially