Mystic Falls

by Vickie McKeehan

  Gemma snorted with laughter. “That’s an idea. Who’s with us?”

  Luke rubbed a hand across the stubble on his jaw. “If Zeb and Lando are bailing to go talk to Reiner, then that leaves me working as the muscle. Why do I get the impression I’ll be the one swinging a hammer soon?”

  Lianne curled her fingers around his bicep. “I’ve no doubt you’ll get the job done, but I guarantee you we’ll do more than stand around.”

  “We’ll do our part,” Gemma confirmed. “Now let’s go tear down a wall.”

  29

  While Luke led the pack of females into what had once been the town’s premier pizza parlor, armed with sledge hammers, Lando and Zeb went to have a heart to heart talk with Reiner Caulfield.

  Gray Wind Trailer Park was a mix of single and double-wides that sat on four acres dedicated to manufactured homes, a spattering of RVs, and a few house trailers.

  Reiner and his wife had retired here in a mobile home model known as the Sandpiper Cobra with white siding and turquoise shutters. It had a front porch Reiner had built himself, complete with deck chairs and a barbecue grill. Inside, the couple had two bedrooms with queen size beds on either end and a nine by twenty-foot living room that included the adjoining kitchen.

  Lando rapped on the framework and was surprised when the old police chief swung open the door. The man who’d given him his first job looked ancient. “Hey there, Reiner. How’s it going? You know Zebediah Longhorn, right?”

  “Sure. What brings you boys out my way?”

  “Does the name Sandy Montalvo mean anything to you?”

  Just hearing the name, Lando could see Reiner’s demeanor change. The former cop’s eyes darted around the neighborhood like he didn’t want to be seen talking to law enforcement.

  “Why don’t you come out here on the deck and talk to us about it? It might make you feel better getting everything off your chest,” Lando suggested.

  “Why would I do that after all these years? The truth won’t change anything about the past.”

  “Maybe not,” Lando stated. “But I have three dead women in the here and now. I think their deaths are connected in some way to Sandy Montalvo’s disappearance. What happened to her, Reiner? Just tell me what happened.”

  “What makes you think I know?”

  “Where’s the case file? What did you do with it?”

  Reiner swallowed hard and took a step out on the deck where his wife couldn’t overhear the conversation. He lowered himself into one of the chairs, letting his arms dangle on each side.

  “When my wife and I started out we were just plain ol’ folks from Salt Lake City. We got married young and started having kids. One day we decided it was time to buy us a house. So, I took an extra job on weekends working a security detail at a real estate convention. That’s where I met Marshall Montalvo. He told me he had a job for me. Only catch was it was in California. When I balked, he promised to help me buy a house…in the new place, a place he’d recently acquired property…Coyote Wells was it. He talked me into bringing my family out, said he could set me up as chief of police. After talking it over with my wife we started packing. We were happy here in this town, raised our kids here, now have a passel of grandkids to boot.”

  Reiner stopped talking long enough to take out a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his mouth.

  “I get the picture. Over the years you felt beholding to Montalvo. And then one night he tested that loyalty. The night he murdered his wife you looked the other way.”

  Once again, the accusation caused Reiner to pale. His eyes went big as saucers. “I didn’t know he murdered her. I swear it. He told me she took off, finally left for Los Angeles so she could start her modeling career. When people started asking me about her that was the story I told, the same as Marshall’s.”

  “So you never really investigated anything about her disappearance?”

  “No, not a thing. I didn’t even write up a report.”

  Standing behind Lando, Zeb stepped into the sunlight. “You could’ve easily called around in L.A. to see if his story checked out, but you didn’t even do that?”

  “No.”

  “What do you think happened to her?” Lando asked. “Now. Years after the fact.”

  “Marshall was fooling around with Natalie Henwick at the time. I think he wanted Sandy gone and he made sure she didn’t come back. I have no idea how he did it.”

  “And you didn’t ask?”

  “No, I didn’t ask. Because of Marshall Montalvo’s generosity I had a good job with great benefits. My wife had a nice house, my kids had a place to live. We had security. We got through recessions and downturns and I kept my mouth shut and made sure…”

  “You looked the other way while a killer got away with murdering his own wife,” Lando finished. “How do you sleep at night?”

  “That’s your story. Me? I don’t know for certain he murdered her. It could’ve been an accident or something. And frankly, I’m retired. I don’t think about those days on the job anymore. You know what it’s like. Coyote Wells is a peaceful place most of the time. Nothing much happens. But when it does, all hell breaks loose.”

  “All I know is one summer night domestic violence busted loose and the guy in charge of keeping people safe turned his back on the oath he took. You didn’t lift a finger to help Sandy Montalvo. I’ll ask again. How do you sleep at night?”

  “Hey, if you want to go nosing around in something that could easily get you killed, go ahead, be my guest.”

  Lando looked him in the eye. “I’m putting you on notice, Caulfied. If I find any evidence that shows you were complicit in a cover up, I’ll charge you as an accessory.”

  “To what? No witnesses, no body, no crime scene, no case. That’s what the DA will tell you. Wait and see.”

  Lando pulled his cruiser up to the curb and heard the sound of a sledge hammer at work and the clunk of bricks falling onto a concrete floor. With Zeb in tow, he raced toward the open front door of what used to be a pizza parlor.

  Crossing the threshold for Lando was like stepping back in time. He’d spent many a summer as a boy sitting in one of the booths ordering a fat slice of pepperoni and an iced cold Coca-Cola over ice.

  But today the only aroma was the dusty cloud he smelled walking on the old bare floor.

  He stared at the heap of red bricks from the old hearth already piled high in one corner where his brother and sister were hard at work busting up the wall.

  He spotted Gemma wearing a pair of goggles to protect her eyes, her clothes covered in a layer of fine powder. He watched as she turned and pointed to the wall.

  “We’ve almost made it past all the newer brick work. And by new, I mean it doesn’t match up with the original hundred-year-old section of the kitchen. It’s obvious this part was put in right before Roland bought his side and when Gram and Poppy bought theirs.”

  “Move back,” Luke warned as he swung the big mallet and it made contact with the red and gray brick, cracking open a small section into a bigger one.

  “Hold it,” Gemma shouted. “What is that? Look there. Are those bones? Is that a hand?”

  Lando and Zeb peered over her shoulder into the opening. “A mummified hand,” Lando stated. “Just back up. This is as far as you guys go. I’ll put in a call to forensics. They’ll take it from here.”

  “Is it her? Is it Sandy Montalvo?” Gemma asked.

  “It’s somebody,” Lando said with disgust. “Whoever it is shouldn’t have ended up stuffed in a wall at a restaurant.”

  Leia made a face. “Our favorite. Do you know how much pizza we came in here to eat when we were kids and that mummified body was in there the entire time?”

  “What kind of sick person does something like that?” Lianne said as she began removing her goggles.

  “We’ll have to ID the bones before we work on that warrant for Montalvo.”

  “When we get the results, is it okay if I tag along?” Luke wanted to know.


  “Me too,” Gemma added. “I want to be there to watch, to see the millionaire’s face when you slap the cuffs on him and cart him off to jail.”

  “You’re all getting way ahead of yourselves,” Lando cautioned. “We don’t even know for sure that this is Sandy yet. There’s a lot of work to do yet because Montalvo has a team of lawyers on his side ready to fight anything that isn’t an ironclad case against him. I have to lock this case down. Tell them, Zeb.”

  “Lots of loose ends to tie up,” Zeb reiterated. “But hell, Lando. Who says you don’t have a body now, or a crime scene? I wonder if this is where it happened.”

  “Could be. What made you guys look here anyway?”

  Leia slung an arm over Gemma’s. “She’s the one who touched the wall and felt something wasn’t right.”

  “I noticed the bricks didn’t match up.”

  “It was more than that,” Lianne added.

  Lando reached over and wiped the soot off Gemma’s face with his thumb. “Good work, Nancy Drew. How does it feel to be a bonafide amateur sleuth?”

  “Right now it feels pretty damn good. But it’ll feel even better when all three are tried and convicted and sitting in prison.”

  30

  Gemma walked to work that first week without any fear for the first time in ages.

  It took a month for Lando to keep his promise and let her tag along to watch him arrest Montalvo at his stately manor on the far side of town. After it all went down, people had been buzzing about the news ever since.

  Before that though, it had taken a week for Lando to track down Sandy’s sister in Santa Barbara to get a sample of DNA that could be compared to the remains. The results left no doubt that the mummified corpse belonged to Montalvo’s wife.

  After that one confirmation everything seemed to tumble into place. The DNA on the whiskey bottle came back to a mix of McIntire and Bernal. The DNA under Marissa’s fingernails matched the younger henchmen, Bernal. Presented with all the evidence, Bernal decided to cut a deal with the prosecutor and began to lay out what had happened.

  It all started innocently enough with Natalie Henwick, the real estate agent and former lover of Montalvo himself.

  Starting in January, Natalie had wanted nothing more than to start the new year off by making a sale.

  During one of the book club meetings, she learned that Collette and Marnie were looking for property for their bookstore and wine-tasting room. Knowing how desperate Buddy Swinton was to unload his storefront, Natalie approached the women with an idea. If they renovated the old pizza parlor by knocking down the adjoining wall into Marissa’s chocolate shop, they could connect their businesses. Customers could easily flow between one shop and the other. Buying books, tasting wine, and then sampling chocolate would increase the foot traffic for both stores.

  Collette, Marnie, and Natalie set out to convince Marissa, but it didn’t take much for the savvy businesswoman to recognize the plan’s potential, agreeing that it might double her revenue.

  With everything in place, Natalie closed the deal. She thought everyone was happy until Montalvo walked into her real estate office one afternoon to inquire about the foreclosure sale. It was Natalie who told him the property had already been taken off the market, the deal closed, and that the plan called for cutting an archway into the old brick wall, benefiting both businesses. The work was scheduled to begin within the month and the new owners were thrilled about getting started.

  But at hearing the news, Montalvo had gone ballistic. He’d been so angry and upset with Natalie that she’d had to threaten him with calling the police to get him out of her office. Just as she started to pick up the phone, Montalvo had stormed out.

  From there, the wealthy businessman set out to make sure those renovations never happened. He stewed about his predicament until he decided the only way out was to stop the women from moving forward. The only way to do that was to get rid of them all.

  Phone records back up Bernal’s account of what took place next. Montalvo set his sights on getting Collette out of the way first.

  On a cold night in March, Montalvo sent McIntire and Bernal on a mission to Collette’s house. Disappointed their target wasn’t home, the two men had to wait until Collette came back. Once she entered the house, they used a stun gun to immobilize her. To avoid the risk of attracting the neighbors, they needed to get her out of the house fast to finish the job. They used a tarp they found in the garage to drag her out of the house and into the trunk of McIntire’s blue BMW sedan, a vehicle that shared similar features with a Nissan.

  McIntire drove out to a desolated spot where the two men took turns finishing off Collette with blows from a hammer to the head. The two men knew about the lonely stretch of abandoned highway from Montalvo, who suggested it would make a good dump site.

  Later, it was Bernal’s idea to retrieve Collette’s car from her driveway and drive it out to the clinic so it would look like she’d been there to meet someone.

  They’d had to wait a couple of months later to catch Marnie home alone, using almost the same tactics to kidnap and murder the school teacher and then dispose of the body.

  But when it came time to get rid of the old lady, Marissa had fought them harder than either man expected. It had taken two men to bring her down. The fight had gone on so long that McIntire and Bernal weren’t able to drag Marissa to the trunk of the BMW without the risk of the neighbors spotting them.

  Bernal said they’d left the elderly woman’s body inside the garage, hoping people would assume she’d fallen getting out of her Buick. It almost worked.

  When Lando had asked Bernal if he knew why Montalvo wanted the women dead, Bernal had given him a faint smile and explained, “The story was that the old rich guy once had a pretty young wife who ended up getting on his last nerve. One night they argued and fought, and Montalvo ended up killing her---right in the middle of some downtown property he’d been renovating. He’d gone there to inspect the work, but she came along and started bitching at him about something and he slapped her, knocking her down. He got on top of her, wrapped his hands tight around her throat and choked the life out of her right there on the floor.”

  With remains so old, the coroner had been unable to back up Bernal’s story about the strangulation. But the crime certainly fit how Gemma and her friends found the body, stuffed fully dressed behind the brick wall where Montalvo had insisted Roland put his oven. Lando had found out that tidbit going over some of Natalie’s old real estate contracts. Montalvo had simply dictated that stipulation before Natalie could close the deal.

  After Bernal’s confession, there were lingering questions for Gemma. When Lando had pressed Bernal about running her down and attacking her that day at the shop, Bernal had come clean. “Look, by that time Montalvo was getting desperate. He wanted Gemma dead anyway we could do it. That night at the Duck & Rum, McIntire was driving his BMW and thought he saw Gemma walking to her car. Turns out, the alley was dark and we had the wrong woman. The next time I tried, I was driving my own car, hoping to hit her on the way to work. She jumped out of the way just in time or it would’ve been splat, all over the concrete. I tried it again that day at the shop, but it seemed like the woman had nine lives or something. She hit me so hard with that coffee pot I saw stars for days.”

  Lando had wanted to reach across the interview table and put him in a choke hold. But he’d refrained from ruining his career over scum like Bernal. Instead, he’d looked him in the eye and said, “That woman has more courage than you’ll ever know.”

  Although it was true, certain things still bothered Gemma.

  The fact that she’d been wrong about the make and model of the killers’ car, but right about the color of the sedan was little comfort to her. It seemed her “psychic ability” was hit and miss at best.

  Lando had to keep reminding her that the vibe she’d felt that day at the wall was what turned the case around. That one thing had led to uncovering the entire reason for all the deaths.
That had to count for something.

  Even when she questioned why she hadn’t zeroed in on it sooner rather than later from her side of the chocolate shop, Lando had come up with the perfect answer. For her, it had been the best and sweetest thing of all. “Marissa worked in that shop five days a week for forty years, and yet, she never sensed that Sandy’s body was hidden in the wall. You should really cut yourself some slack. I’ve been reading up on this psychic phenomenon thing and it really is a fifty-fifty shot. Sometimes you’ll get it right. Sometimes you won’t. You helped crack a serial case that might’ve taken me years to put together, if at all. Going forward you have my gratitude and respect.”

  Their relationship had been getting stronger ever since.

  So on a sunny morning four days before the Sun Bringer Festival, she was in the middle of creaming sugar and butter when she looked up to see Alex Kedderson staring at her. She wiped her hands on her apron and called out over the mixer, “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear the bell ding above the door. What can I get for you?”

  Instead of answering, Gemma noticed the attorney seemed agitated. Usually dapper and jovial, he was anything but. “Mr. Kedderson, are you all right?”

  The fiftyish attorney shifted his feet. “I’m the one who should apologize to you. I have something for you and you’ll likely be upset when you see it.”

  Now, nerves jingled up Gemma’s spine. “What is it? Is it bad?”

  “Depends.” Kedderson brought out a tin box from behind his back.

  Gemma glared at the attorney and wiped her hands on the starched white apron she wore. “Is that what I think it is? All this time you had the recipes? Why did you keep them from me? Why not give them to me after the funeral?”

  “Your grandmother left very specific instructions for me to deliver this along with a letter from her that she’d written herself. I was to wait exactly three months to the day after her death. Today is that ninety-day anniversary. She wanted you to have this.”