by Kathi Daley
“I’m so very sorry.”
“No need to be. I realize now that trying to run from my grief wasn’t the best approach anyway. I needed time to process everything, and I guess that my accident gave me the time I needed. Of course, by the time I began to dig myself out of my depression, I was in quite the financial mess. But then Secret Santa came along and gave me a second chance. One I plan to utilize to the fullest. I have a job interview next week, which I feel really good about, and once my mortgage was made current, the bank was willing to work with me on restructuring my other debt into something a bit more manageable.”
“That’s wonderful.” I smiled. “I’m so happy to hear that things are back on track for you.” I hated to ask my other questions since this seemed to be as good a place as any to end the interview, but then I remembered Dex. “Secret Santa really has been a ray of sunshine in the community. Everyone seems to have their own opinion as to who the mystery man might be. I don’t suppose you’d care to wager a guess?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say Carolyn Worthington is my personal Secret Santa. Carolyn was friends with my wife, and Carolyn and I both volunteered at the library before I had my accident. Carolyn and I would sometimes have coffee after our volunteer shift, so I would say we know each other fairly well. I suspect that Carolyn somehow found out about my financial situation and decided to help out.”
“So you think that Carolyn Worthington is behind all the Secret Santa gifts?”
He screwed up his face. “All the gifts? Well, I don’t know about that. I suppose if she is the one to have helped me out, then it stands to reason that she is the one to help everyone out. I guess I never really stopped to look at the bigger picture.” He paused, crossing his arms over his chest. “She is a bighearted woman. She is generous with both her time and her money. The idea that she found out about my situation and decided to help makes sense to me, but to be honest, I’m not sure about the others. Do you think there might be more than one Secret Santa?”
Did I? It would certainly complicate things, but I didn’t suppose it was impossible that there was more than one Secret Santa out there.
After I spoke to Grover for a while longer, I headed across town to meet up with Stephanie Baldwin. As far as I knew, she’d been the most recent recipient of a Secret Santa gift. I hoped she might have some insight the others had been unable to provide.
As the others had, Stephanie showed me in once I arrived on her front porch. She led me down the hallway that smelled of chocolate and cinnamon and took me directly to her kitchen, where she positively beamed as she showed me her new oven, complete with an electric stovetop. It really was a nice unit. I wasn’t much of a cook or really a cook at all, but I suspected the unit was good quality and featured all the bells and whistles.
“Isn’t it fabulous?” She asked as she ran a hand over the surface of the cooktop. “Positively top of the line.”
I looked at the dozens of cupcakes on the counter. “It looks like you have already put it to good use.”
“Oh, I have. The cupcakes are for the tree lighting. The elementary school is doing a fundraiser, and the parents are supposed to donate baked goods to sell.”
I wondered if Paisley was covered. I supposed I should call Aunt Gracie and ask her about it. Chances are if Paisley needed something to donate, Gracie would whip something up for her.
“So, how did you find out about your new oven?” I asked.
“The man from the appliance store called the house and asked me when it would be a good time to deliver and install the oven I’d ordered. I told him that he must have made a mistake since I hadn’t ordered anything, but he was quite insistent. After a while, the guy was finally able to convince me that an individual who wanted to remain anonymous purchased the unit with instructions to deliver it to me.”
“So, it sounds as if the man from the appliance store might know who paid for the oven.”
She shrugged. “I guess, but he wasn’t telling who it was, that much is for sure. Personally, I don’t care who paid for it, I’m just happy to have it. This is the worst time of the year not to be able to bake anything. The school depends on me to bake treats for all their holiday parties, the town depends on my cookies and candy for the bake sale during Christmas in the Mountains, and my family depends on me to make all their favorite seasonal dishes. If you cook a lot as I do, it is important to have working equipment.”
“I guess that is true. Do you have any idea who might have paid for the oven?”
The woman ran her hands down the front of her apron in what seemed to me to be a habitual movement. “If you’re asking me if I know who Secret Santa is, I don’t have a clue. And to tell you the truth, I don’t care. Whoever the jolly elf in red is, the man is an angel in my book. A real hero sent to brighten the lives of the folks in town who need a little help making their miracle happen this Christmas.” She paused for a breath and then continued. “I know a new oven might not seem like a lot to someone like you with your fancy career and truckloads of money, but to me, it is the difference between my ability to bake the Christmas cookies my children look forward to each year or going with store-bought. Not that there is anything wrong with store-bought mind you, but my cookies are one of the things I want my children to remember about me long after I’m gone. They’re important, and I think Secret Santa knew that.”
Fancy career and truckloads of money were far from an accurate description of me, but I did see what she was saying. “So, you suspect that Secret Santa is someone who knows you personally?”
“Well, I would think so. Otherwise, how would the man have known I needed an oven?”
Good question. A very good question, indeed.
Chapter 9
As I did every Friday, I showed up for my volunteer shift at the animal shelter early so that I could work with the dogs currently going through the training class. The dogs I was asked to work with tended to rotate depending on which dogs needed extra practice, but the techniques used were much the same. When I’d first started as a trainer, the dogs tended to ignore my commands in favor of doing their own thing, but I’d learned a few tricks of my own along the way, and I felt I was beginning to get the hang of things.
“It seems like Koko has improved a lot in the past couple of weeks,” Naomi commented after entering the room where I was taking the husky through his lesson.
“He does seem to be getting the hang of it,” I agreed, as I motioned for him to sit and then stay. “It was rocky in the beginning, but I feel like the two of us understand each other at this point. Any luck finding someone to adopt him?”
“Actually, I do have a man who is interested. I’m not quite ready to let Koko go, but I did process the guy’s application, and it seems like he might be a real possibility. If Koko does well this week, I think I’ll set up an appointment for the dog to spend some time with the man to make sure they are compatible. It will be important that Koko respects whoever adopts him since he has such a dominant personality.”
“I hope it works out. I’d love to see him in a real home for the holiday.”
“That is my goal, as well. I’d love to get as many animals placed as possible, but we are already into December, so I’m not sure how many I’ll be able to place. But not to worry, the dogs and cats who will spend the holiday at the shelter will be given special treats to celebrate.”
“I agree that it’s better to find the right home than to rush it.”
“That has been my philosophy from the beginning. Is Cass coming today?”
I rewarded the dog and then asked him to lie down. “He is. At least that is the plan. I spoke to him earlier, but he got a call while we were chatting. He said he had to go and would call me later, but I haven’t heard from him. The plan we worked out was to play with the dogs until about five-thirty and then head over to the tree lighting.”
Naomi opened a cupboard and began sorting vitamin bottles. “I forgot that was tonight.”
“I’m hopi
ng there is a decent turnout. First, it was canceled, and then it was back on. I’m sure that there will be some folks who might not know things were worked out, and that the event is going to happen. And then there is the weather. It’s positively frigid.”
Naomi laughed. “That’s a Rocky Mountain winter for you. The secret to surviving is layers. Lots and lots of layers.”
“Thanks, I’ll remember that.”
She closed the cabinet. “Hancock is waiting for me over at the house, so I guess I should get back. Maybe I’ll see you at the tree lighting. Hancock is flying out in the morning, and I want to hang out with him while I can, so I guess I’ll see what he wants to do.”
“He’s leaving before Christmas?”
She shrugged. “He may be back by Christmas. Sometimes he is only gone for a week or two, while other times, it is a month or two, but I try not to have any expectations. That way, I’m not disappointed. I guess it will work out however it works out. If Cass does make it, can you ask him to stop by the house? I have the information on Rupert he was looking for.”
“Rupert?”
“Rupert Wooly. He’s an old prospector I’ve known forever. Like Hancock, he tends to come and go with the wind, but according to Cass, he happened to have been in town when Buford died, so Cass wants to chat with him.”
“So, did he know anything?”
Naomi shrugged. “My assignment was just to track the guy down. I’ll leave it to Cass to interview him.”
I had to hand it to Naomi, she was about as easy going as anyone I’d ever met. She obviously cared deeply about the animals in her care, but beyond that, it seemed like she just drifted with the current going wherever it might take her. I supposed that was a good quality to have, but I was sure that simply floating through life without really needing to take control was something I would never be able to do no matter how hard I tried.
By the time I finished my training duties, Cass had shown up. I passed along the information that Naomi wanted him to come up to the house, and then I began gathering balls and toys for the play session. It was really gratifying to see how excited the dogs became once they realized that Cass and I were there to entertain them.
“So, did you get the information you needed?” I asked Cass after he returned from speaking to Naomi.
“I did. I’m not sure that Rupert will know anything, but he tends to hang out with the other old-timers that can usually be found at the bar, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to talk to him. I’ve spoken to everyone else I can think of but, while everyone has an opinion as to what might have happened on the night Buford died, no one seems to actually know anything.”
“It sounds frustrating.”
“It has been.”
“Did you speak to Ford?”
He nodded. “I did speak to Ford. Tom wasn’t wrong when he said that Ford has been acting oddly. He was polite when I showed up at his home. He invited me in and even offered me some really bad coffee. I asked about his health since his house was a total mess, and it looked like he hadn’t cleaned up in weeks. He said he was fine. Tired, but fine. I asked him if he knew anything about Buford’s death, and he said he didn’t, but I’m not sure he was telling the truth.”
“Why do you say that?”
“He lowered his eyes when I brought up Buford’s name. He answered my questions, but the entire time we were speaking about Buford, he stared down at the floor. I even asked him point-blank if he had something he needed to tell me. He said he didn’t, but like I said, he just wasn’t himself.”
I furrowed my brow. “Do you think Ford killed Buford?”
“Intentionally and with premeditation, no. But Ford and Buford did get into it at times. I have to admit that by the time our conversation was over, I found myself wondering if Ford and Buford hadn’t engaged in a tussle that led to Buford’s death.”
“Do you think Ford would lie about that if he had killed Buford?”
He shrugged. “I’d like to think he wouldn’t, but I suppose if he is scared enough about the consequences of his actions, he might lie to protect himself.”
I supposed Cass had a point. “So, what are you going to do?”
“Just keep an eye on him. I don’t have a single lick of evidence that Ford killed Buford, so it’s not like I can bring him in or ever get a warrant to search his place. But I can watch him and see what he does next. If Ford is guilty, I suspect he’ll slip up at some point, and when he does, I’ll be there to bring him in.”
I tossed a thick rope for the dog who had brought it to me. “So, do you have any other suspects?”
“A few.”
“I heard that you arrested Dennis Feldman for fighting with Vern Tidwell after Vern accused Dennis of being the one to hit Buford over the head.”
He nodded. “That’s true. I did have to arrest Dennis for punching Vern, but what I found the most interesting is that Vern knew that Buford died from a blow to the head. Neither the mayor nor the sheriff’s office has made that fact public yet, so how did Vern even know that was what happened?”
“I had the same thought. It occurred to me that Vern accused Dennis of hitting Buford to divert attention from himself, but in reality, all he did was bring attention to his own actions. Have you spoken to Vern?”
“I have. He swears that he didn’t kill Buford. He swears that he heard about Buford being hit over the head during a discussion with a group of guys at the bar. I suppose that might be true, word does tend to get around in a small town, especially with the bar crowd, but I’m keeping my eye on Vern as well as Ford.”
“And Dennis?” I asked.
“Dennis told me that he and Buford did argue on the evening he died, but he swears he went to his girlfriend’s house directly after the argument. I checked with the girlfriend, who lives in Aspen, and she confirmed that Dennis was with her for the entire night and into the following day.”
“So, it sounds like Dennis is in the clear. Is there anyone else on your list besides Ford and Vern?”
“I have one other lead, and it might actually turn out to be a good one.”
“And what is that?”
“Darby Willis told me that Buford recently inherited a pretty good chunk of change from his sister after she passed away this past summer. Darby didn’t know how much Buford had inherited, but he was pretty sure it was a significant amount, whatever that means. The really interesting thing about this inheritance is that Buford and his sister, Hilde, were estranged, and as far as Darby knew, the two hadn’t spoken in forty years.”
“It seems odd that the woman would leave money to a brother she hadn’t spoken to for all that time.”
“I thought so as well, so I did a little digging. It turns out that Hilde has a son who was expecting to inherit her entire estate. When the son, whose name is Jason, found out that his mother gifted more than a quarter million dollars to his uncle, a man he’d never met, before she died, he retained an attorney and tried to challenge the gift.”
“Why would she do that?”
“She’d been ill. I think she knew that she only had a matter of days or maybe weeks to live, so she went ahead and gifted the money to her brother. Maybe she knew her son would challenge the gift, so she wanted to head him off. It’s hard to say.”
“So, what happened when the son challenged the gift?”
He was successful in getting a judge to agree to temporarily freeze the account his mother had put the money into after making the case that his mother was dying and not in her right mind when she made the gift. When the court attempted to freeze the account, they found that there was only a hundred dollars left. Apparently, the bulk of the money had been withdrawn the day after Hilde gifted it to Buford.”
“So, Buford must have anticipated a problem and withdrew the money.”
Cass nodded. “Apparently. The thing is that no one has been able to figure out what he did with the money. He didn’t open additional bank accounts, nor does it appear he made any investments, at leas
t not any that can be tracked. He hasn’t made any large purchases, nor was the money found in his house after he died.”
“I didn’t really know Buford, but based on what I’ve heard, it seems like he was the sort of guy who might have stuffed the money in his mattress.”
“He was totally that sort of guy,” Cass agreed. “But we’ve looked in the mattress, and in the root cellar, and even in the oven. The money simply is not on his property.”
I had to admit the fact that Buford had come into a significant amount of money before he died did lend an interesting twist to the situation. “Okay, so if Buford had the money at his home at one point and someone found out about it, maybe someone killed him and stole the money.”
Cass tossed a thick rope for the dogs to chase. “I suppose that is as good an explanation as any, but there are still a lot of unanswered questions, beginning with why this woman left such a large amount of money to a brother she’d been estranged from for forty years.”
“That does seem odd,” I agreed.
“And even if we can figure that out, we need to figure out why Buford withdrew all the money from the bank, and what he did with it once he liquidated.”
“And, of course, you’ll want to know if all of this is related to his death.”
“Exactly.”
I squatted down to greet a pair of terriers. “Have you spoken about the money to the people who were closest to Buford? Had he told anyone about his inheritance?”
Cass began picking up the toys in anticipation of wrapping up the play session. “I just found out about this today, so I’ve only had time to speak to a couple of Buford’s friends. Those I’ve spoken to swear they had no idea that Buford had come into any money. As I already mentioned, after he withdrew the cash, it seems to have simply disappeared. Buford didn’t change his lifestyle, nor did he make any large purchases.”
