by Kim Pritekel
“Hey, Detective Sanchez,” one of the officers said, walking over to her. “Glad you’re in casual clothes. We’ve got a bit of a hike. Follow me.”
“Thanks, Pete.”
They walked up the steep, winding dirt road that led to the top. Sarah looked at the incredible mountain views all around them.
“Damn, this is pretty,” she commented, slightly out of breath.
At long last, they arrived where the rest of the crew was, including her Canon City counterpart, Detective Patrick Holdsted.
“Hey, Pat,” she said, walking up to them. “What do we have?”
“Over there,” he said, pointing in the general direction. Couple hikers found it.”
Sarah’s stomach churned, the sick sensation spreading like vine weeds. She let out a heavy breath as she ducked under the yellow tape to the spot where everything had been found. The department photographer was snapping the scene.
“Joe, I need you to send those to me as soon as you’re done, ’kay?” she said absently, zeroing in on the scene.
Before her was the taped-off area, the foliage peppered with a few items. She saw a black clutch, smeared with mud, as well as a black stiletto, the thin heel partially snapped off. Off to the left of the shoe about four feet was a smeared Colorado driver’s license, the smiling face of Shannon Schaeffer looking back at her.
“Oh man,” she said, accepting the pair of latex gloves that were handed to her. She wiggled her fingers into them as she knelt down. It was then that she noticed a car key. “Do we know what Shannon Schaeffer drove?” she asked those around her.
“Honda Civic,” one of the officers supplied.
“So, why does this belong to a Subaru, then?” She held up the thick key, the maker’s logo spelled out on the plastic grip. She looked out into the fading afternoon, her mind reeling. Handing the key to a CSI member, she got to her feet. “We need to find out what model that key belongs to then find out where an abandoned car is. Without a key, you ain’t gettin’ too far.”
Chapter Eleven
LJ walked the small apartment, noting the galley kitchen and somewhat aged tile. There was one small bathroom for the one decent-sized bedroom, considering the square footage of the apartment. The finishings were dated and some worn, but the fridge was clean upon inspection, as were the oven and stovetop.
“So, does this seem like something that would work for Kristie?” the building manager, Sally asked standing in the middle of the empty living space.
LJ turned around in the narrow kitchen and rested his arms on the serving bar in the opened-up space that looked out on the living room. “It’s nice,” he said, trying to sound noncommittal. It was, and he knew Kristie had an incredibly limited budget, but he wanted to keep his cards close to the vest.
“Well, let me remind you, the university is literally up the hill, and not far in the other direction are shops, restaurants, bus stops, things that might be useful for a college student.”
He nodded, walking out of the kitchen and meeting the older woman in the living room, the brochure she’d handed him upon meeting in his hand. “I’ll speak to my wife and we’ll get back to you.”
LJ made his way back to his truck, which was parked in the small parking lot of the U-shaped apartment complex, a small courtyard in the middle of the ground floor. It wasn’t bad, he had to admit. He’d looked at a handful of properties that day in the price range he and Adrienne had agreed on. They weren’t willing to pay for Kristie’s entire life during her college years, but they had been wise and had saved for it. So, now the agreement was they’d pay the rent, and the rest was up to her, from her car payments, insurance, utilities, and anything else that popped up.
He grabbed the other brochures and printouts he’d gathered that day, each detailing costs and amenities. Tossing the paperwork into the console between the two leather bucket seats, he started the truck and was on his way. At least he’d gotten the ball rolling.
After their argument a few nights before, Adrienne had come to him a couple days later. She told him she’d thought about things and, even if she and LJ moved to Denver for her career, perhaps they could consider letting Kristie remain in Pueblo. In other words, it was her way of apologizing. In all their years together—more than twenty—he’d only ever heard her apologize one time, and that was to her mother because they were late to Christmas dinner.
As grateful as LJ was for her olive branch, which was more like an olive twig, he knew it was a large part of what was wrong with their marriage; it always had been.
Shoving all that aside, he pointed his truck in the direction to hit Santa Fe and head out to the county, where the superintendent’s office was in the administration building. He stopped at a Starbucks along the way, intending to pick up coffees for Adrienne and himself. He pulled in behind an old station wagon, which surprisingly still ran, when something caught his eye.
Glancing behind him, he saw there was nobody waiting, so he thrust the truck into reverse and plowed out of the drive-thru, turning the wheel as hard as he could for the hairpin turn out of the parking lot.
He spared a glance at the sign that had caught his attention in the first place: OPEN HOUSE! BEAUTIFUL NEW TOWNHOUSES BY MELODY HOMES. Pulling the large black truck into the fresh black asphalt of the parking lot, he slowed as his gaze scanned the beautiful structures. Though new, they were Victorian in design.
Pulling into a parking space next to an original orange Volkswagen Bug, he killed the engine and sat there for a moment. He ignored every thought in his head and climbed out of the truck and walked toward the building.
There was a small group ahead of him, all speaking excitedly to each other. They were met at the open front door of a unit by a woman, who LJ presumed was the real estate agent in charge of the event. They passed and it was his turn.
“Welcome!” she said brightly, giving him a large smile. “Each unit is about thirteen-hundred square feet, hardwood throughout, your choice of three bedroom or two bedroom and a dedicated office. Enjoy your tour, sir, and here’s my card if you have any questions.”
“Uh,” he said softly, taking the card and giving her a weak smile, “thanks.”
LJ stepped inside, his eyes everywhere as he reached up and adjusted the baseball cap on his head. It was easy to admire the high ceilings, and the big, beautiful fireplace, which was obviously a feature of the open-concept first floor. The kitchen was filled with upgrades and easy access. He made his way to the dedicated office, which could be closed off to the main floor by French doors. A small, gas fireplace was tucked into the corner.
As he stood in the staged room—large walnut desk and leather chair—it was easy to see his own things in the room, including him sitting there with a fire going, soft music playing in the background, maybe a little Josh Groban, as he worked on a new story.
He violently shook himself out of his thoughts, storming out of the room then out of the townhouse, sick to his stomach. He could think of nothing but getting to his truck. Once there, he slammed the door shut, cutting him off from the world outside. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. Feeling like an idiot, he stuffed the material the woman had given him in the console and started the engine.
“Starbucks,” he whispered. “Yeah. Got to get back to Starbucks.”
****
Two hot paper cups in hand, LJ walked into Adrienne’s office, who he was glad had read his text and left it open for him. He entered and, knowing his wife’s preference for privacy, used the toe of his boot to lightly tap the door closed.
“Hey,” he said, walking across the medium-sized office to the desk, where Adrienne was sitting in front of the computer, her reading glasses firmly in place.
“Hang on,” she said absently, moving the mouse for whatever she was working on and seeing on the screen.
LJ set her cherry vanilla latte—extra hot—near the mouse pad and sat in the chair across from her desk after he pulled the brochures he’d tucked into his bac
k pocket out. Crossing an ankle over the opposite knee, he sat back and relaxed as he sipped his mocha breve.
“I hadn’t realized a new coffee shop was opened out here,” he said conversationally. “Nice gals who own it, too. One is a pilot and the other is—”
“An author, I know. It’s been around for a couple years, Larry.”
“Oh. Well, I’m not out here all that often.” He glanced out the window as he waited for her to finish and give him her attention. He gave a side glance to the apartment brochures on the edge of the desk and couldn’t help but think of the townhouse he’d seen. He kept seeing that fireplace in his mind’s eye, so magnificent and with awesome light for writing by the fire.
“Okay, sorry about that.”
Torn from his thoughts, he focused on his wife, guilt causing him to clear his throat. “No worries. I know this budget thing has been a beast for you this year.”
“God isn’t that the truth,” Adrienne said, pulling her glasses off and tossing them to the desktop before grabbing her cup. She took a careful sip, eyes closing. “Good stuff. Those ladies certainly know how to make a good latte.”
“So, I picked up some brochures for you today of the places I saw,” LJ said, pushing the small pile toward her across the large desk. “The one in Pueblo West is the best priced, but honestly, I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Too far,” Adrienne agreed, looking at the brochure for that property.
“Yeah. But, figured I’d show you anyway. So, we agree this one’s out?” he asked.
“Agreed,” Adrienne said with a nod, tossing the brochure into her desk-side trashcan. “What’s next?”
“This one is the most bang for the buck, but I’m not keen on Kristie living on the west side—”
“What’s this one, Larry?” Adrienne asked, holding up a brochure for another property. “It’s a two bedroom.”
LJ cleared his throat and readjusted himself in the chair. “Yes. It’s a hell of a deal, very centralized between her job and school and, she’s talked about maybe having Julia as a roommate.”
Adrienne glared over at him. “She doesn’t need a roommate.”
He met her gaze, somehow managing to keep his tone even. “She doesn’t need a roommate, or she doesn’t need Julia Donovan as a roommate?”
Adrienne looked back down at the options before her. “I hardly think it’s a discussion worth having when seeking a good place for our daughter to live in during college,” she muttered.
LJ rolled his eyes as his wife’s gaze was on the provided paperwork, not on him.
“So,” she said, getting his attention. “What are your plans for the night?”
Confused, he shook his head. “What do you mean?”
“I have the retirement party for John tonight.”
“Ah, yea,” he said, grabbing his breve. “The event you didn’t invite me to join you for.”
“Larry,” she said with a sigh, hands coming to rest on her forehead, “you never even worked with John.”
“Is Sherry going?” he asked casually, meaning the wife of one of the teachers going to the event.
Adrienne looked away. “Why does everything have to be a fight with you, Larry?” She glanced at him. “I figured you would enjoy a quiet night, both Kristie and I out of the house.” She reached for her glasses and put them on, turning back to her computer, effectively dismissing her husband.
****
LJ slowed his truck so as not to slide before he turned into Nora’s long, gravel drive. He pulled up beside the house and pulled the brake, killing the engine. He glanced over at the back of the house where Nora and Bella sat on the back stoop, their attention on something in the child’s lap.
He climbed out of the truck and made his way over. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.” Nora pushed up from her place and met him halfway on the path to the back stoop. She gave him a one-armed hug, which he returned. “Glad you called.”
“Glad you were home and wanted company,” he said with a small smile.
She looked up into his eyes. “You okay?” she asked quietly.
He gave her a quick shrug. “So, what do we have over here?”
Bella looked up at him, and for only a second as the sun shone in her eyes, he swore he was looking down into the face of his baby sister. Taken aback for a moment, he cleared his throat and reached up to readjust his baseball cap. He felt a hand on his lower back and turned to see Nora giving him an understanding look. He had to assume she saw it, too.
Turning back to the little one, he knelt down. “Hey, kiddo,” he said cheerily, reaching over and mussing her hair. “Who’s this?”
“It’s a kitten,” Bella said, indicating the tiny bundle in her lap.
“Is it your kitten?” he asked, reaching over and petting the white and black fluff ball that looked back at him with huge green eyes.
“No. Aunt Nora said she needs to stay with her mommy.”
He smiled. “That is important.”
“But, Aunt Nora said she hasn’t seen Oreo’s mommy.”
He glanced up at Nora for clarification. Nora moved around the two to sit behind Bella on the stoop. “Oreo here is the kitten of one of the feral cats around here,” she explained. “I used to see her and the three kittens around, but I haven’t seen her or the other two in a couple days.”
“Well, that’s not good, huh?” he asked, looking back at the girl. He smiled when he saw that the kitten was attempting to chew on one of Bella’s small fingers.
“Are you hungry, LJ?” Nora asked. “I was going to make us Bella’s favorite.”
“What’s that?”
“Mac ’n cheese and hot dogs.”
“Yup, kid cuisine.”
Two hours later, Bella tucked in with her arms wrapped around her stuffed bear Sam, Nora and LJ sat at the kitchen table, dishes taken care of and loaded into the dishwasher.
“Man, she reminds me so much of Shannon,” LJ said softly, indicating the bedrooms above their heads on the second floor.
“Me, too.” Nora looked down at her hands, which rested on the table, fingers interlaced. “This has been so hard on Bella. God, she cries, LJ,” she almost whispered, unshed emotion in her tone.
“Any news? Have you met with the police who are dealing with Shannon’s case?”
Nora grinned. “Well.” She pushed back from the table. “That one requires a beer.” She walked over to the fridge and opened one side. On the top shelf—far out of the curious hands of a five-year-old—sat a six-pack of Blue Moon that had been there for months. “Want one?” she asked, wiggling a glass bottle in front of her.
He chuckled. “I don’t know. With everything going on, you got anything stronger?”
Nora nodded. “I believe I do.” She put the bottle back and closed the fridge, turning back to her brother. “Help?”
LJ walked over to her and reached up into the cabinet above the appliances, grabbing a bottle of Grey Goose vodka, which still held most of its contents. He set the bottle on the counter and closed the cabinet door.
“Okay, Coke or cranberry juice as a mixer?” Nora asked, opening the fridge once more.
“Who needs a mixer?” LJ teased, reaching over Nora’s head to grab two glasses. “I’ll take the juice.”
“Coming up.” Moments later and with a drink in each hand, she nodded toward the large front porch. “Come on, let’s sit outside before it gets too cold to do that.”
Settled and each with their drink, Nora eyed her big brother. “What?” he asked, uncomfortable by the scrutiny. In truth, he’d been enjoying the quiet peace of the evening.
“You know I love seeing you, LJ, but let’s face it, it’s not often that the warden turns you loose, especially on a Saturday night. I mean, Lawrence, your obsequious nature with her hasn’t been the greatest in life choices.”
“Cheers to that,” he said, raising his glass to lightly clink against Nora’s. “I got paroled for the night. She’s at a retirement pa
rty for a colleague.”
“Why aren’t you there with her?”
“I’m not a colleague.”
“No,” Nora drawled, “but you are her husband.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “I tried to remind her of that today.”
“Oh, ouch. And, how did that go over?”
“Like a lead balloon.” The siblings were quiet for a moment before LJ looked over at where she sat in a chair that matched his, a small square table between them where her drink sat. “I wanted to ask you a favor, sis.”
“Sure. What’s up?” She took her drink back in hand for a slow sip.
“I was wondering if you’d be willing to spend a little time with Kristie.”
Nora met his gaze, surprise in her eyes. “Oh? Is everything okay?”
“It is.” He nodded. “But I think she needs a little…Aunt Nora guidance.” He grinned over at her. It took a moment, but Nora’s eyebrows rose.
“Oh?”
He nodded. “Oh.”
Chapter Twelve
Beulah, Colorado – 2002
“You said here, right?” Nora asked from behind the wheel of her rental car. She had a small break between shoots. She’d be heading to South Africa next.
“Uh,” Shannon said, studying the screen of the GPS system in her hands. She glanced out the window of the sedan to the wooded area to the right of the car. “Yeah. It looks like it should be in there somewhere.” She indicated a general area.
“You know Dad is going to kick your ass for taking his TomTom, right?”
Shannon smirked as she brought up a hand to tuck long auburn hair behind her ear. “He’s always angry about something, Nora. I mean, come on.”
“True.” Nora found a place to park on the side of the road and turned the car off, facing her sister. “Okay, now what exactly are we doing again?”
“Geocaching,” Shannon said simply, as though that explained it all. She reached down to the backpack that she had stowed between her feet and tugged it onto her lap.
