forgotten (Twisted Cedars Mysteries Book 2)

by CJ Carmichael

  “Of course I will.”

  “Thanks. I realize I was out of the line the other day, asking if you would petition for custody. And I’ll make things easy for you to apply for an annulment. I’ve had my lawyer draw up a statement where I admit to marrying you under fraudulent circumstances.”

  “Oh.” Jamie was taken aback by his reasonableness. She was used to looking for the ulterior motive in everything Kyle said and did. “Thank you.”

  “I’m sorry for everything. I truly am. I realize from your perspective I’ve been a real shit. And you never deserved that.”

  His words freed her. Absolved her. She ought to be feeling relieved right now. So why were her eyes filling with tears.

  “I just have one last favor to ask, Jamie.”

  Oh, oh. Here it comes. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for a blow of some sort.

  “I know I lied and hid things from you, right from the start. But I did love you, Jamie. I still do. You don’t owe me anything. But if you could try to believe that, I would really appreciate it.”

  “Good luck, Kyle,” she managed to reply, before ending the call.

  Tears filled her eyes and she blinked them away. It would be easier to deal with the end of this marriage if she could view Kyle as a villain, plain and simple.

  But she just couldn’t do that.

  And this last conversation had reminded her of all the good things. Maybe she was a fool to believe him when he said he still loved her.

  The truth was, she still felt love for him, too.

  Along with anger, resentment and disappointment.

  Still, she knew an annulment was the right step. And so was buying this house. She liked the idea of starting out in a new neighborhood, with a new place. She’d be in control of her life now. No more dreaming about a prince on a white steed, promising her a happily ever after.

  Baily greeted Jamie at the door to her office dressed in a silk blouse and a summer-weight wool skirt. She’d had her gel nails redone. They were red now, with gold tips.

  Jamie wondered if Bailey had intended the symbolism. Probably not.

  “Would you like a coffee? Our receptionist can make you a latte or an espresso.”

  “A latte would be nice.” She could use the caffeine. It had been a long day, and she still had another appointment after this one.

  They sat down together in a small conference room with framed photographs of beautiful houses on the walls. Bailey was patient and thorough as she went through each clause of the agreement. Jamie had a nice down payment and an approved mortgage. The only condition to her offer was a home inspection—which shouldn’t cause a problem in Bailey’s opinion.

  “The price we’re offering is a little low, but it shouldn’t put them off. They’ll probably come back with a counter-offer. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from them.”

  An hour later, Jamie was back on the coastal highway heading to the home of her new client, Brian Greenway. The idea was to meet face-to-face and get an engagement letter signed for their files.

  Her first, real, client.

  Having just made the biggest financial commitment of her life, the timing was perfect.

  Jamie plugged the address Colin had given her into her Google Maps app on her phone and almost immediately turned off the coastal highway onto Elk River Road.

  Her client’s home was at the far end of the road, which followed roughly along the lie of the river to where it curved up against the Grassy Knob Wilderness. Homes were sparse along the back stretch of the road, vying for space in the forest of cedar and tangled vine maples.

  When she was about ten minutes from her destination, she tried returning her brother’s call, but service was patchy and the call dropped. She’d have to try later, when she was closer to civilization.

  The road began to narrow then. She steered through a couple of tight “S” curves, then came to a two story home, built on a hill with a deck built off the upper level. Reflective numbers on a tree beside the driveway assured her this was the right place.

  She pulled up beside a black pick-up truck, barely visible behind a screen of hedge cedars.

  The air smelt sweet and wild—the way it did at her brother’s place. But this home was even farther off the beaten path than Dougal’s. And the last stretch of road was a lot steeper and more rugged. She wouldn’t want to drive it during a pounding rain storm. That was for sure.

  Gripping her briefcase in one hand, she headed for the main door, half expecting a Pit Bull or Rottweiler to come charging at her.

  But if her new client owned a dog of any kind, it was an unusually silent breed. As she trod over the pine-needle strewn ground, all she could hear was the sweet song of a nearby chickadee.

  The door opened before she reached it, and a man stepped out carrying a leather folder in one hand. He was medium height, slender, with short gray hair and a neatly trimmed beard, also gray. He slipped on a pair of sunglasses, then held out his hand.

  “You must be Jamie Lachlan from Howard & Mason.”

  “I am. Good to meet you Mr. Greenway.” His handshake was very firm, and she instinctively tried to see his eyes, only to find her own reflected in the dark blue of his lenses.

  “Call me Brian. Hope you don’t mind the glasses. I have an extreme sensitivity to sunlight, but it’s such a nice day I thought we should conduct our business in the gazebo.”

  The grass had been clipped in a swath close to the house, and they walked round to the other side where a cedar gazebo sat on a rise of land with a good view of the river. Despite his advanced years, Brian was light on his feet, as spry as a much younger man.

  “It’s beautiful here.”

  “Hope you didn’t mind the drive.”

  She gave him a second glance. His voice sounded familiar, but she hadn’t as much as spoken to him on the phone yet. It was Colin who had set up the meeting.

  “It was fine. I imagine the roads are more challenging in the winter season.”

  “Wouldn’t know. This is my first month here.”

  “Where did you move from?”

  “Oh, I’ve lived all over. How about you? You sound like you’re native to Oregon.”

  “Born and raised.”

  “And where’d you go to school?”

  She figured he wanted her full credentials, so she gave them to him, adding on her years of experience with Howard & Mason. “I’m looking forward to working with you. Colin says you have an interesting, global portfolio.”

  “I enjoy investing. And I’ve had good luck at it. But the tax rules in this country are too much for me.”

  The gazebo had been screened in and was furnished with a round table and four cushioned chairs. On the table was a bowl filled with ice and several cans of flavored lemonades. Also on the table was a bowl of potato chips and another of roasted peanuts.

  “Help yourself to something to drink and to the snacks. I have a summary of my investment portfolio in here”—he indicated the folder he’d been carrying. “Thought I’d show you the sort of stuff I have before we sign that engagement letter of yours.”

  He had extensive holdings and it took her a while to comprehend the scope of his wealth. She’d been given to understand that Brian Greenway was an eccentric, reclusive millionaire.

  The eccentric and reclusive part seemed accurate, but when it came to his wealth, multi-millionaire was more like it.

  When their business was concluded, Brian asked if she’d like to walk down to the river.

  “Sure.”

  She followed him, picking her way around large rocks and trees.

  “Too bad I’m not a fisherman,” Brian said. “Salmon spawn upstream from here in the drainage of Dry Creek.”

  “Maybe you should take it up.”

  “Don’t think I have the patience. But I sure do love the sound of the water rushing over those stones.” Even as he said this, he was jumping from one flat stone to another, working his way closer to the river bank.

>   “There’s a twenty-foot waterfall right here.” He held out a hand for her to join him.

  Moving much more slowly and cautiously, Jamie followed in his footsteps. It wasn’t as easy as it looked since the stones were damp and slick in places.

  She wasn’t too proud to grab onto Brian’s hand when she reached the edge.

  “You have to lean over a little,” he said, putting a hand to her back for added stability.

  She rose on her tip-toes, craned her neck a little further. “I see it! It’s gorgeous.”

  Something underfoot seemed to shift then. Or had Brian let go of her for an instant?

  For a split second she was off balance, adrenaline spiking and tingling along her skin.

  Then Brian had both hands at her waist, pulling her back to safety. “Careful. These stones are slippery.”

  Ten minutes later, she was back in her car, glad to be heading for Twisted Cedars. She was approaching the turn onto the coastal highway, when a call came in from Bailey Landax.

  The vendors had accepted her offer.

  At the end of the month, the house on Horizon Hills Road would be hers.

  A moment later, her phone beeped to announce a text message. She waited for the next scenic overlook point, and pulled in to read it. The message was from Wade.

  KYLE’S BEEN ARRESTED ON CHARGES OF FRAUD AND CRIMINALLY NEGLIGENT HOMICIDE. THOUGHT YOU SHOULD KNOW.

  chapter thirty-four

  it was late in the afternoon by the time Dougal and Charlotte were finished giving their statements at the Sheriff’s Office. Dougal squeezed Charlotte’s hand.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Hanging in there. Can’t wait to get home.”

  “Mind if I delay you a little longer?” Wade came up from a corridor to their left, indicating they should follow him to his office. “We’ve found out a few things. I think you both to deserve to know.”

  Wade waited for them to sit down, before he took his own chair behind his desk.

  “Dougal,” he said, “Your theory is correct. Joelle Caruthers was indeed Ed Lachlan’s daughter. She grew up in foster care after her mother died, and as soon as she turned eighteen legally changed both her first and last names. If I had to guess her motives, she probably wanted to make it hard for her father to ever find her or get in touch.”

  “Makes perfect sense to me,” Dougal said.

  “There’s more,” Wade said. “In the Trash folder on Joelle’s email account we found a message from a Hotmail account under the name of Librarianmomma—isn’t that the same account that supplied you with those tips about the librarian murders?”

  Dougal was on the edge of his seat now. “Yes.”

  “The message seemed innocuous enough. He just asked how she was doing and did she enjoy being a mother. And it was signed, Dad.”

  Dougal swore.

  “The next day,” Wade continued, “Joelle registered for a self-defense class.”

  “So are you crossing the husband off the suspect list?”

  “Pretty much. Seems he took my advice and drove straight home after our encounter at the Linger Longer last night. Video taken when he filled his car with gas at Ashland provides him with an alibi for the medical examiner’s estimated time of Joelle’s death.”

  “You guys have had a busy day,” Charlotte murmured.

  “That’s for sure. And Dougal’s crazy theory isn’t sounding quite so crazy anymore,” Wade admitted. “We’ve got a nation-wide APB out for Ed Lachlan—or whatever he’s calling himself these days.”

  “I hope you find him soon,” Dougal said. “I can’t help thinking that the only reason he killed Joelle and her baby was to give me a message. And if he somehow finds out, or already knows about Jamie, he could try to hurt her, too.”

  “I don’t follow. What message is he trying to send you?”

  Dougal let out a long breath, then glanced at Charlotte, counting on her mere presence beside him to give him strength.

  She took his hand. Squeezed it hard.

  Then she turned to Wade. “Ed Lachlan wants Dougal to write a book about him. Make him famous.”

  “You’re not suggesting that’s why he killed Joelle and her baby?” Wade turned disbelieving eyes to Dougal.

  Dougal just shrugged. He knew it sounded outrageous.

  But there it was.

  * * *

  Dougal drove Charlotte from the Sheriff’s Office to the market. They hadn’t eaten all day, and while neither one had much of an appetite, maybe they would later. Next they picked up Borden, at which point Charlotte offered to take over behind the wheel.

  “You still haven’t checked in with your sister,” she reminded him.

  “Thanks.” As soon as he was in the passenger seat, Dougal pulled out his phone and tried his sister again. This time, she answered.

  “Hey there. I’m parked on a scenic overview on the highway, just a few miles from town.”

  Dougal turned to Charlotte. “Did you hear that?”

  She nodded.

  “We’re on our way to the cottage. We’ll be coming up to you any second. Wait for us.”

  Five minutes later, they spotted his sister’s Miata and Charlotte pulled their vehicle in beside it.

  The day was still bright, the sun was hours from setting. Jamie was standing at the guardrail, looking out at the view of the sea stacks. She looked so vulnerable to Dougal in that moment. And precious too.

  He left the car and, against all precedent, gave his sister a hug.

  “Wow. What was that for?”

  “It’s been a bad day.”

  With Charlotte standing by his side, Dougal filled his sister in on everything that had happened. Joelle’s murder. The link to their father. And Dougal’s interpretation of what it all meant.

  Jamie’s face turned whiter and whiter.

  Charlotte put an arm around her. “It’s going to take some time to sink in.”

  Jamie nodded, mutely.

  “So here is the important point, Jamie,” Dougal finished. “Our father is here, somewhere around Twisted Cedars. And he could have his sights set on you next. I need you to promise to be careful.”

  “Our half-sister has just died, and you’re worried about me?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Our father doesn’t even know about me, remember? When Mom kicked him out, she didn’t tell him she was pregnant.”

  “Over the years, he may have found out about you. We have the same last name. A simple online directory search would tell him everything he needed to know.”

  She was quiet for a long time. Then she said. “I met this new client today. He was an elderly man, very wealthy. I did find him a little odd. But he was perfectly harmless. In fact, he led me to this lookout point on the river where he lives to show me a waterfall. If he’d wanted to kill me, all he’d have had to do was give me a shove. Instead, he put out a hand to steady me.”

  A terrible fear gripped hold of Dougal’s heart. “That could have been him. What’s his name and address? I’ll go check him out.”

  “Oh, Dougal. I told you. He’s harmless. Besides, client information is confidential.”

  “Will you at least promise not to meet him again, unless you’re someplace public? Preferably with me close to hand?”

  “Yes, to the first part. Definitely not to the last bit.”

  “Why do you always make it so difficult for me to look out for you?”

  “I promised I’ll be careful. And I will.”

  * * *

  Dougal finally felt he could relax when they reached the Librarian Cottage. He and Charlotte cooked dinner together. Shared a bottle of wine. Made love, then stayed up late reading in bed.

  Finally, around midnight, Charlotte fell asleep. Her favorite book, Pride and Prejudice, had fallen on her chest.

  Gently he removed the book, then kissed the tip of her nose.

  He was glad she had managed to drift into sleep. He knew he wouldn’t.

&nb
sp; He got out of bed, put on his clothes, then turned out their bedside lamps. Borden, sleeping on Charlotte’s legs, didn’t even raise her head.

  In the kitchen he thought about pouring himself a glass of scotch.

  It was very tempting. But there were dangers on that road, and he figured he’d better avoid them.

  If he had stayed in New York, would Joelle and her baby girl still be alive?

  He thought, yes.

  Wade and Jamie didn’t believe it, and Dougal suspected even Charlotte wasn’t sure. But he, himself, had no doubt. Ed had killed Joelle and her baby to send him a brutal message.

  And if he didn’t heed the warning, Jamie could be next.

  Dougal settled on the sofa with his laptop. They’d left the windows open and pine-scented air wafted in from the west. He could hear a tree branch rubbing gently, back and forth, against the metal roof.

  This place had felt like a haven to him from the first time he saw it. But it didn’t feel that way anymore. No place would until he faced his demons.

  He opened his email, then composed a new message.

  “You win. I’ll start the book tomorrow.”

  Less than a minute after the message was sent, he got his reply from Librarianmomma.

  “That’s my boy. I can’t wait to begin.”

  THE END

  Look for the conclusion to the Twisted Cedars Mysteries series, Exposed,

  coming October 2015

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  note from the author

  I’d like to thank the people who helped me with this novel, my editor Linda Style, formatter Meredith Bond, proofreader Toni Hyatt, and cover designer Frauke Spanuth from CrocoDesigns.

  For help with my research, I am indebted to Deputy George Simpson, as well as friends Sue and Greg McCormick who introduced me to the Deputy, as well as shared impressions and memories of their years living in Oregon. Thank you also to District Attorney Everett Dial who patiently answered many questions from me over the phone.

  I’m very grateful to the friends and family members who have read preliminary copies of my Twisted Cedars Mysteries and provided much needed feedback: Mike Fitzpatrick, Kathy Eliuk, Voula Cocolakis, Lorelle Binnion, Susan Lee, Brenda Collins, Donna Tunney...thank you all!