“Take your pick of the shirts. I’ll take the other. For sleepwear,” Farrah explained.
I held up first one T-shirt, then the other. One was all green camouflage, while the other was black with a large bullet-ridden shooting target. They both said STAG CREEK HUNTING LODGE across the front.
“I gotta say, this is one article of clothing I never thought I’d wear,” I said, handing Farrah the shirt with the target.
“You’ll look fabulous,” she said, as she disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she came out in a white terrycloth robe. “I’m heading down to the laundry room,” she said. “Here’s another robe. Want me to wash your clothes and T-shirt, too?”
“Sure, thanks. And while you’re gone, can I borrow your iPad? There’s a Wi-Fi connection in here, right?”
“Yep. Have at it,” she said, removing the tablet from her purse.
After Farrah left, I took a hot shower, then wrapped myself in a robe and settled on top of my bed to browse the Internet. My mind kept going back to what Ricardo had said to me about Edgar’s dishonesty. It seemed to corroborate Fern’s claims, as wild as they had seemed at the time. What had she called Edgar? Fast Eddie.
As I recalled, Beverly had mentioned that Fern had sued Edgar a few years ago. I was curious to know what the lawsuit was about, so I opened up a legal research website. Since I was using Farrah’s device, and legal research was her business, I was pretty sure I’d be able to access the site. I soon found I was right. Her login ID and password were saved in the computer. Once I was signed in, it didn’t take long to find the case titled “Fern Lopez vs. Edgar Harrison.”
It was a defamation case. The circuit court had dismissed the claim for being filed after the statute of limitations had run. Fern had appealed, arguing that she had only learned about Edgar’s slanderous statements about her years after the harm was done. The appellate court was not persuaded, and she lost the appeal.
After reading the procedural summary, I skimmed the short recitation of facts at the beginning of the court’s written decision. Fern claimed that Edgar had falsely accused her of growing marijuana on her property. As a result, Fern’s landlord had canceled her lease and evicted her from her home.
Wait. ‘Evicted her’? From what property? When did this alleged slander take place? I read on and gasped when I found my answer. The property in question was the Happy Hills Homestead. The commune where Aunt Josephine had lived.
So, Fern believed that Edgar was responsible for the loss of the commune’s land. No wonder she didn’t like him. The court’s decision didn’t say how Fern supposedly came to possess her belated information about the alleged slander. I wondered if she’d found something back when she was trying to bug his office. According to the case summary, Fern’s complaint alleged that Edgar “maliciously intended to damage her good name and reputation with full knowledge that his statements were untrue.” She further alleged that he had wanted the land for himself.
I was so engrossed in reading about the case, I barely noticed when Farrah returned with our clean clothes. She walked over and plugged a charger cord into the wall outlet, then connected it to the iPad. “I borrowed this from the front desk clerk,” she said.
“That’s nice,” I responded, still reading the computer screen. I scrolled down to the end of the court’s decision and almost clicked out of the page, when something caught my eye at the very end. It was a footnote. According to the note, a third party had asked the court for permission to file an amicus brief in support of Fern’s complaint. The court denied the motion. But the thing that jumped out at me was the name of the third party: Green Elf Organization, or GEO.
“Interesting,” I murmured.
“What’s interesting?” asked Farrah, trying to read over my shoulder.
“Green Elf Organization. I wonder if they’re related to Green Elf Energy Company. Maybe a precursor or something.”
“Green Elf Energy,” Farrah repeated. “I’ve heard of them. Don’t they make solar panels and wind turbines? I know they do something with alternative energy. Like what Fern Lopez uses at her survivalist compound.”
“Yeah. I’m not sure if they’re a broker or a provider or what. But I know someone who would know. Zeke mentioned he worked at Green Elf Energy before getting his job at Harrison Properties.”
“Figures,” said Farrah. “Look at their acronym. Sounds like ‘geek.’”
I Googled both Green Elf entities to see what I could learn. I wasn’t sure why, but this potential connection between Zeke and Fern seemed significant.
“Hey, Kel. Are you gonna be okay on your own for a while? Tucker invited me to his private suite for a nightcap.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, not looking up. “Have fun.”
The first few search results I found were official websites about GEEC’s sustainable energy offerings. Then I came across a comment on a message board that gave me pause. An anonymous commenter implied that Green Elf had ties to a radical underground environmental group. Following the thread, I learned that there had long been rumors about a secret network of eco-activists based in the Edindale area. Supposedly, they engaged in covert operations to further their cause.
Covert operations? That sounded right up Fern’s alley. Suddenly, I recalled my suspicions about Zeke after the fire alarm went off at Harrison Properties. And that wet footprint outside Edgar’s door. Had Zeke planted a bug in Edgar’s office? Or was he just snooping around? If so, he might have found something incriminating about Edgar . . . which meant, he really could be the blackmailer, as Edgar had suspected.
But something else surfaced in my memory. It was Zeke’s tendency to say obscure things to me, almost as if he was dropping hints he hoped I’d figure out. Come to think of it, Fern had done the same thing. As I recalled, she’d said, “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”
What were they trying to tell me?
There was one way to find out.
I set the iPad on the nightstand and checked the time. It was after midnight already. I’d been surfing the web longer than I’d realized. No matter. Zeke struck me as the kind of person who stayed up late.
I went to get dressed and found that my sweater was still damp. Farrah had tossed it over the shower rod to air-dry. Instead of the sweater, I threw on my new camo nightshirt over my leggings and slipped out of the room. Moving quickly, I tiptoed down the hall, took the stairs to the first floor, and hurried up to the front desk.
There was no clerk in sight. I peeked at the computer monitor and found that it was on. Lucky for me, the screen wasn’t password protected. I wonder if this is what it feels like to be a Green Elf operative, I thought as I snuck behind the desk and helped myself to the computer. As soon as I located Zeke’s reservation, I lifted the receiver on the front desk telephone and dialed his room number.
“Hello?” he said, after the first ring.
“Meet me in the common room,” I whispered.
“Who is this?” he said.
“Oh. It’s Keli,” I said in my normal voice. “I’d like to talk to you. I’ll be in the common room.” I hung up before he could respond.
* * *
The common room was dark and quiet. Even the stone fireplace was cold and dark, the fire having died out hours ago. I curled in a chair in the reading nook, out of sight of the deer heads and stuffed birds in the main room. I’d forgotten my cell phone upstairs, but I had a feeling it was nearing 1:00 a.m. The same time Edgar had met his killer, one week ago tomorrow.
With a shiver, I kept my eye on the entryway. Still, I jumped when Zeke appeared. He hadn’t made a sound.
“What’s new, pussycat?” he said.
“Aren’t you slightly young to be quoting Tom Jones?” I asked. I hoped a little levity would slow down my pattering heart.
“Why are you always bringing up my age?” he countered.
“Have a seat,” I said.
He took the chair across from me, the same spot Ricardo had
occupied a few hours earlier. I noticed Zeke was in need of a haircut. Maybe it was the rumpled clothes and visible whiskers, but his clean-cut image seemed to be morphing into that of a revolutionary.
“I’d like some straight answers, Zeke.”
“Why, whatever do you mean?” he asked, batting his lashes at me.
“You know what I mean. Earlier today, in the breakroom, you said you’d tell me if I stuck around tonight. Well, here I am.”
Zeke studied me for a moment without saying anything. Maybe he needed a little encouragement.
I leaned forward. “Tell me about Green Elf and your acquaintance with Fern Lopez.”
Zeke’s face broke into a wide smile. “Ha! I knew you were a sharp one.”
“Go ahead,” I said, sitting back. “I’m listening.”
“I do work with Fern,” he admitted. “She leads one cell in the network—you don’t need to know the name. Green Elf is just one link. Anyway, our mission is simple: we aim to save the earth. In essence, we want to save humankind from itself.”
I must have raised my eyebrows, because Zeke toned down his fervor. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’re not ecoterrorists or anything. We don’t damage property or endanger any people or animals. We just like to keep our pulse on the town’s leadership. We want to know what’s going on and how decisions are being made, so we can influence them.”
“And you do this by planting bugs and spying on people?”
Zeke shrugged. “I’m not going to confess to any criminal activity, if that’s what this is all about.”
I blinked, remembering what I was really after. “No. What I’m interested in is . . . information. Especially any information you may have uncovered at Edgar’s office.”
“Ah, yes. I miss that job. It was a bed of roses compared to other jobs I’ve had.”
“There you go again, with the bed references! You and Fern both. She said something about politicians and businessmen being ‘in bed together.’ And you said something about ‘making your bed and lying in it.’”
“Hey,” said Zeke, barely suppressing his grin. “We’re prepared to go to the mattresses, if that’s what it takes.”
“All right. I get it. It’s about Lonnie Treat. So, what about him?”
“Okay,” said Zeke, lowering his voice. “So, I was doing my job at Harrison Properties, right? Allison had instructed me to transfer Edgar’s handwritten notes into the new computer system. As I was doing that, I realized a ledger book was missing. I asked Allison about it, and she searched but couldn’t find it.”
“What kind of ledger book?”
“One of Edgar’s accounting journals where he documented financial transactions. It would have covered a particular time period from a few years back, around the time of the Cornerstone project. Have you heard of Cornerstone?”
“Yes. Go on.”
“Fern was adamantly opposed to Cornerstone. She told me all about it. The development would have ruined a wetland and wiped out hundreds of trees, huge swaths of wildlife habitat.”
“Did she have a hand in its demise?” I asked.
Zeke smirked. “She would have done anything to block it, but she didn’t have to. It fell through anyway. But she’s always been worried someone might try to resuscitate the project.”
“So, what about the missing ledger book?”
“I thought it might be significant, so I looked for it myself.”
“How did you get inside Edgar’s office?” I asked, assuming that’s where he’d looked.
“I have skills,” said Zeke.
“That’s what you were doing that day the fire alarm went off, isn’t it? Did you pull the alarm?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Zeke admitted. “I needed to clear the floor long enough to give me time to search Edgar’s office.”
“And? Did you find it?”
“No. When I told Fern about it, she said it must have been stolen.”
I remembered the break-in Beverly had mentioned. “Was Fern referring to the time someone tried to break into Edgar’s safe? I take it that wasn’t her.”
“No, it wasn’t. But she was watching Edgar’s office at the time. She knows who broke in.”
Time to put this mystery to bed, I thought wryly. “Lonnie Treat?”
“Bingo.”
Chapter 25
That night I had a dream about Aunt Josephine. I wanted desperately to find her. She needed my help, and I felt she was really close, closer than ever before. But I still couldn’t find her.
Over the summer, I was obsessed with finding her in the waking world. My mom had unearthed an old letter Josie had sent to her parents right before she’d left the commune. She wrote that she had been entrusted with a secret undertaking and that she would return to Edindale when she had completed her mission. When it was “safe again.” All summer I pored over old postcards and letters and walked the property where the commune had been. I’d tracked down all the former Happy Hills residents I could find, including Fern Lopez. But no one could help me, and the trail fizzled out.
My dream jumped to the past, when Josie was a little girl in Nebraska. It made no sense that I, at my current age, would be there with her, but in the dream it didn’t matter. “I have a present for you, Keli,” young Josie said. She handed me her Johnny Appleseed book. “This is the key, the source, and the power. It’s the genesis and the phoenix. It’s the answer.”
My dream shifted again, and I saw the long-haired woman from the picture in Mila’s shop. She was in the place of my Solstice vision, spreading golden seeds beneath the frozen earth. She looked up at me and smiled. “Remember the source of life,” she said. “You have the answer. The alpha, the genesis.”
I woke with a start. The room was pitch-black. It took me a moment to remember where I was. Farrah snored softly in the bed next to mine. I turned toward the window, peering through the darkness until my eyes discerned the outline of the curtain. As the dream faded, I recalled the information I had learned from Zeke. I had lain in bed piecing it all together, when I fell asleep.
I thought again about what I knew: Lonnie had lost a lot of money in the Cornerstone deal. He had ambitions to join the ranks of Edindale’s elite and was always trying to get close to Edgar. He had stolen an accounting book from Edgar’s office. And he seemed to have recently come into a large sum of money.
Lonnie had to be the blackmailer.
I would call Detective Rhinehardt first thing in the morning. God only knew how I’d explain the source of all my information. I’d have to figure that out later.
Before I’d left Zeke in the common room, I had one more question for him. “Why are you telling me all this?” I had asked. “Why help me at all?”
Zeke had leaned forward, a devilish glint in his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe you’ll want to join us. You do love Mother Earth, don’t you?”
In the darkness, I sighed and rolled over. I already had enough things to worry about.
* * *
An hour later, I awoke again. This time, the early morning sun shone through the curtains, casting a bright ray of light on the floor. I rolled out of bed and looked out the window.
How peaceful, I thought. The sunrise washed the snow-covered landscape in hues of pink and yellow. All is calm, all is bright. I couldn’t help thinking of the Grinch looking down at Whoville after he had stolen Christmas. If I listened hard enough, maybe I’d hear the sound of distant singing.
I laughed at myself and started to turn away. That’s when I spotted a figure emerge from the ski rental shed. It was Lonnie.
What’s he up to? I wondered. He was somewhat unsteady on cross-country skis, but he soon found his stride. I watched as he maneuvered around the shed, where he met up with another person on skis. At this distance, I couldn’t tell who the other person was. He or she wore ski goggles and a black puffy coat. They had a brief conversation, then headed off toward the woods.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” I murmured.
> Farrah groaned from beneath her pile of blankets. “Too bright,” she said, throwing her arm over her eyes. “Too early.”
I dropped the curtain and walked over to Farrah’s bed. “Wake up, Suzie Q. Something’s going down.”
She burrowed deeper under her covers.
“Fine. I’ll go by myself. I’m sure there’s no danger.”
Farrah threw her covers off and sat up. “Go where?” she asked, squinting at me with one eye.
“Just a little cross-country skiing adventure. We have to hurry, though. Before we lose them.”
“Them? Them who?”
Ten minutes later we were dressed and sneaking into the unlocked ski shed. As we strapped on skis, then stole out and followed two sets of ski tracks in the deep snow, I told Farrah what I’d learned about Lonnie.
“Makes perfect sense,” Farrah said. “So, Edgar confronted him, and Lonnie responded by pitching Edgar over the rail.”
“And then Lonnie turned his attention to someone else,” I said. “Probably Allison. I know she’s hiding something. Maybe she was involved in Cornerstone, too.”
“Would she have the kind of money you found in the trash bin at Ryker’s Pond?”
“I’m not sure, though she does seem to be doing all right for herself. Anyway, she probably had access to Edgar’s safe.”
Farrah snickered. “So, Lonnie ended up with Edgar’s money after all.”
“Maybe.”
We continued following the tracks along a wide, powdery trail. As we proceeded deeper into the forest, I was grateful Farrah had come along. The farther we ventured from the lodge, the more isolated I felt.
After a few minutes of silence, Farrah spoke up. “They must have had a big head start, huh? I don’t even hear any voices.”
“They must be skiing pretty fast, too,” I said.
“And you don’t think they’re just out for a little early morning exercise?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t say why. I only knew I couldn’t shake a deep sense of foreboding.
“Are you thinking Allison is the person with Lonnie now?” Farrah asked.
Yuletide Homicide Page 20
