Needled to Death

Home > Other > Needled to Death > Page 20
Needled to Death Page 20

by Sefton, Maggie


  Her cell phone jangled, and she slipped it from her pocket as she opened the cottage door.

  “Kelly, this is Jayleen again. I was just up at the ranch putting the animals in, and the cops are removing the tape. Thought you’d like to know.”

  “Really? That’s great,” Kelly said as she dumped her bag on the sofa. “Maybe I’ll be able to go back to the ranch tomorrow. Thanks for telling me, Jayleen.”

  “It’s nothing. I knew you’d be pretty anxious to finish. Gotta go. Bye now.”

  Kelly scooped dog food into Carl’s supper dish while she checked her cell phone directory. Punching in Lieutenant Peterson’s number, she left a brief message asking permission to return to finish her murdered friend’s accounts. She was hoping the sympathetic look she’d spotted in Peterson’s eyes was genuine. Kelly needed to bring closure to this business. Peterson was doing it his way, and she was doing it hers.

  Eighteen

  Kelly stared at the papers and folders littering Vickie’s desk. She’d looked through every folder, sorted through every stack of papers, even searched the desk drawers, and still there was no sign of those faxed statements. Kelly knew she hadn’t imagined Debbie’s message on the phone to her. It was Debbie’s last message, so it radiated in Kelly’s mind.

  Debbie had received the faxes from the investment bank and noticed several “discrepancies,” as she put it. She had questions. Kelly was determined to examine those statements thoroughly as soon as she arrived at the ranch this morning. She owed both Debbie and Vickie her very best effort, nothing less.

  There was only one problem. The statements were nowhere to be found. Kelly had been looking for over an hour and getting more aggravated by the minute. “Darnit! Where are they?” she exclaimed to the empty office.

  A long black nose pushed against the window screen. Carl. He’d heard her voice. “Hey, boy. How’re you doing?”

  Carl replied with a whine.

  “Sorry, Carl. I can’t let you run free. You’d spook the alpacas,” she said as she sank into the desk chair.

  Carl barked this time, then looked over his shoulder at the alpacas that were placidly grazing in the pasture. Kelly did notice they’d moved farther from the house than usual.

  “I know, it’s boring, but it’s still better than being locked in the house all morning.”

  She leaned back and took a deep drink of coffee as she surveyed the office for the third time. This made no sense. Why weren’t those statements here? Debbie wouldn’t have thrown them away, and neither would the police. Debbie wouldn’t have hidden them, either. She kept all Vickie’s documents in three folders, which were stacked neatly on the desk. Kelly had gone through each folder twice.

  She released a frustrated sigh. All her plans for finishing up this assignment were “blown out of the water,” as her dad used to say. She couldn’t finish the accounts without them. And she was so close, too. Kelly swished the remaining coffee in her mug. Thank goodness she’d brought a refill.

  There was nothing left to do but call the investment bank and ask them to refax the statements. Maybe she’d get lucky, and they’d fax them today. If not, she’d simply have to return tomorrow. Meanwhile, she’d finish everything else this morning.

  “Okay, then,” Kelly said out loud, causing Carl to poke his face in the window once more. “Let’s find that phone number and get this moving.”

  Kelly shuffled through the folders until she found the one labeled “Banks.” Paging through, she located the investment bank’s quarterly statement ending June 30. Punching in the phone number, she worked her way through two menus until she found a real person who could facilitate her request.

  “Account and PIN number, please,” the young woman demanded.

  Kelly rattled off the account number on the statement, then searched for the requested PIN code. “Hold for a moment while I get it,” she said and reached into the stack of folders. She’d remembered seeing a list that had account numbers on the inside of one of the folders. Finding the folder, Kelly ran her finger down the long list of numbers and repeated the necessary PIN number.

  “Thank you. You should receive the faxes by tomorrow,” the woman said.

  Kelly hung up the phone and stared at the open folder in her lap. Vickie had written bank account numbers, PIN numbers, credit card numbers, even e-mail IDs and passwords all inside the front of the folder. Not a good idea under most circumstances, Kelly knew, but she figured it made sense in Vickie’s business. After all, Jayleen did the bookkeeping. She had to have access to all the account information.

  “Okay, back to work,” Kelly muttered as she sorted through the folders on the cluttered desk.

  At least one big job would be finished today, even though it wasn’t hers. Carl would have a safe and secure backyard playground. No more Mister Morose. Look out, squirrels. Carl would be on patrol once again. Good thing, too. Those squirrels were getting too brazen for words. Kelly was sure she’d spotted a fluffy-tailed chorus line dancing across the patio this morning.

  “I told you to lie down, Carl,” Kelly called to her dog as she turned another corner of the curving canyon road. “All we’ve got is curves and more curves. Give up and lie down.”

  Carl ignored her, continuing to stick his head out the window, ears flapping in the wind, as Kelly sped up the canyon road.

  She wound around another curve, and Carl hit the seat once again. Doggie wipeout. Clearly undaunted, he scrambled to his feet and shoved his head out the window. Flying, no doubt, Kelly thought.

  “Not much farther, Carl,” Kelly said. Since she was leaving earlier than planned, she’d decided to stop by and check on Geri. She’d remembered how worried Geri looked yesterday. Maybe there was some way Kelly could help.

  She rounded the last curve leading to Geri’s place. Geri’s herd of alpacas was grazing in the pasture, but Kelly barely glanced at them as she turned into the driveway. Her attention was completely drawn to the man standing beside the fence with surveying equipment. Measuring instruments and clipboard in hand, he was obviously surveying Geri’s property.

  Was Geri refinancing or something? Kelly wondered. Another thought intruded. Geri had gambled with her house once before, according to Jayleen. Had she been foolish enough to jeopardize her property again?

  Her curiosity really pushing now, Kelly pulled her car onto the side of the driveway and got out. She deliberately parked away from the surveyor so Carl would not go into a frenzy of barking.

  “Hi, there,” she called to the man as she approached. “You’re surveying, right?”

  The older man glanced up at Kelly. “That’s right. Are you Ms. Geraldine Norbert?” He glanced at his clipboard.

  “No no, I’m a friend of hers,” Kelly said. “I was wondering why the property was being surveyed, that’s all.” She gave the man her brightest smile.

  “I just work for the county, ma’am. I survey what they tell me to,” he replied, bending over his instrument once more.

  Kelly was about to pry again when a truck engine sounded down the driveway, coming closer. Geri roared up and jerked the truck to a screeching halt, kicking up dust clouds.

  Geri leaned out the window. “Listen, don’t do another thing. This is all a mistake,” she said to the surveyor, her face ashen. “I’ve paid the mortgage, I swear!”

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry, I just survey the properties the county tells me to,” he explained.

  “Look, I’m going to the courthouse. I’ll get a receipt! Whatever it takes. Just take my name off that list, please!” Geri begged.

  “Ma’am, I don’t make the list, I just follow my instructions.”

  Kelly stepped forward. “Geri, is there anything I can do?” she offered. The fear on Geri’s face was heart-wrenching.

  Geri stared at Kelly, as if seeing her for the first time. “No, no . . . I just need to get to the courthouse . . . This is all a mistake . . . a mistake. . . .” She jerked the wheel and gunned the engine. The battered green truck lu
rched out of idle and roared down the dirt driveway to the canyon road.

  Kelly watched the truck disappear around the curve. The surveyor continued to measure and jot information on his clipboard. “Look, mister, I know it’s none of my business, but I’m really worried about my friend,” she said. “What list is she talking about? Is the county taking her land for taxes or something?”

  The man looked up from his clipboard. “No, ma’am. The list I work from shows properties coming up on foreclosure.” He shook his head. “This is the part of the job I hate,” he said, returning to his instruments.

  Kelly walked back to her car, a sinking feeling in her gut. Geri had looked so scared—and with good reason. She was about to lose her house and land. That meant she’d lose her business, too. If only there was a way to help. Should Kelly even try? Vickie had tried helping Geri before. Why had she slipped back into those old habits? Why?

  Carl woofed as she approached. Kelly leaned against her car and patted Carl’s smooth black head while she gazed out at the mountains. Geri had a beautiful view—rolling ridges with high peaks behind. In September, those high peaks would be snowcapped. Glancing around, Kelly noted the small farmhouse, barn, and a couple of outbuildings. It wasn’t as big as Vickie’s, but the setting more than made up for that.

  A creamy white alpaca wandered into her line of vision as it grazed in the adjacent pasture. Ample pastures, too, Kelly noticed. Another alpaca caught her eye then—a smoke gray, almost bluish color. Kelly blinked. That looked like Raja. Or his twin. That had to be Geri’s young herd sire, Raleigh. She’d said he was sired by Vickie’s prizewinning male.

  Carl whined. “Okay, we’re going,” Kelly said, settling into her car. “You’ve got a big surprise waiting for you when we get home.” Waving at the surveyor as she drove past, Kelly flipped on her phone and was surprised when she had a signal. She called Jayleen, who answered on the second ring.

  “Jayleen, this is Kelly. I’ve just been to Geri’s, and there’s a surveyor there measuring her property. He said it was on the foreclosure list.”

  “Oh no!” Jayleen cried. “I can’t believe Geri’d do that again.”

  “Well, there’s a chance it’s a mistake,” Kelly went on as she rounded a curve. “She came tearing down the driveway and told him she’d be back with a receipt. She claims she made the payments, so maybe there’s a mix-up. I sure hope so.”

  Jayleen sighed. “I hope so, too, Kelly. Dammit! How could she do that to herself all over again? And Vickie’s not here to bail her out this time.”

  “Part of me feels sorry for her, and part of me doesn’t,” Kelly admitted.

  “I know what you mean, Kelly,” she said with a sigh. “I’d like to kick her butt around the block. Damn fool! Risking her business she’d worked on for years. Every year her herd’s been growing, and now she’s risked it all.”

  “You know, I saw some of her herd a few minutes ago, and that male of hers is Raja’s twin for sure. She ought to get some beautiful babies out of any breeding with that bloodline.”

  “Well, sometimes it doesn’t work that way, Kelly. You can have a great sire and expect the offspring to be the same, and they can turn out to be a bust. I’m afraid that’s what happened with Geri’s male, Raleigh.”

  “What do you mean? Doesn’t he produce the same colors as Raja?”

  “Not yet, he hasn’t. But on top of that, he seems to be a dud at breeding. He’ll mate, but it doesn’t seem to take. When the females are checked in a month, the ultrasound shows no baby. Not good.”

  Brother, this breeding business was definitely trickier than she thought. “Wow, maybe that’s why Geri got into trouble with the gambling,” Kelly speculated. “Maybe she was trying to make up for losses in the breeding business. Maybe—”

  “Kelly, don’t get ahead of yourself. We don’t know what happened to put Geri back on that path.”

  “You’re right. I just wish there was some way to help,” Kelly said, hugging the curve as she slid around it.

  “So do I, Kelly. But this is something Geri’s going to have to take care of herself this time. Gotta go now. Bye.”

  Kelly closed her little phone and tossed it on the seat while she tried to stop worrying and enjoy the luscious alpine scenery surrounding her.

  “GO get ’em, Carl,” Kelly said as she opened the gate to the newly finished backyard. Carl took off, racing around the perimeter, nose to the ground, sniffing every footprint. He’d be occupied for hours. Kelly fingered the sturdy addition of extra chain link topped off with twelve inches of metal and strung wire angling inside. There was no way Carl would be able to climb out of there. It was like a penitentiary. Thank goodness, she thought with relief. No more shouts of angry golfers on a Saturday morning or threatening notices posted to her front door.

  “Hey, the fence looks great,” Steve called out as he crossed the parking lot. “I was passing by and thought I’d cheer up Captive Carl. Looks like he’s got his freedom back.”

  “Yeah, he’s no longer Captive Carl. I guess he’s Convict Carl, now,” she joked. “This is a penitentiary. He’ll never get out.”

  Steve chuckled. “Yeah, it does look formidable. But that’s the only way you’ll keep him inside.” He pointed. “Look, there he goes now, checking it out.”

  Kelly watched Carl stand on his hind legs, front paws on the chain link, staring at the metal above his head. “Golf ball party is over, big guy,” she said with a laugh.

  Carl turned, took one look at Steve, and forgot about the penitentiary. He bounded over to the gate, barking a friendly greeting.

  “Hey, how’s my golf ball buddy,” Steve said, laughing as he let himself in the gate. He grabbed Carl about the neck and they both fell on the ground in a rottweiler version of Wrestlemania. Kelly wagged her head, watching the two of them do the slobber-and-roll. It’s gotta be a guy thing, she decided. Rolling in a yard with dog poop. Not her idea of fun.

  “Thanks again for suggesting that guy Manny,” she said when Steve had extricated himself from Carl’s embrace. “He certainly does good work.”

  “Yeah, Manny always does a first-class job. That’s why I use him.” Steve escaped through the gate with a final pat.

  “He was afraid of Carl, though, so I took the big guy with me up to the ranch today to work.”

  “How’s that going, by the way?” Steve asked as he strolled toward his truck. He’d obviously come straight from the building site, dirt on his jeans and denim shirt, mud on his boots. You could mistake him for one of his workmen. Kelly had the feeling Steve liked it that way.

  Kelly exhaled an exasperated breath. “Brother, it’s the job that doesn’t end. Every time I think I can finish and close up the accounts, something new appears.”

  “Think of it as your first consulting job, so you’re working out the kinks,” he suggested with a smile.

  “I guess,” she said, peering toward the sun angling over the mountains. “Well, I’d better go in and do some of my work before I run off to practice.”

  “Me, too. I think we play you guys next week.” Steve stopped beside his truck and leaned against it. “By the way, pick a night when you’re free next week. I want to take you out to dinner. There’s this great little bistro in Old Town. Good food. Good jazz.”

  Kelly didn’t see that coming, so she didn’t have a quick response ready. Instead, she just stared back at him.

  Steve grinned slyly. “Caught you by surprise, didn’t I? Come on. You have to eat dinner, don’t you? So do I. What about it?”

  “Uhhhh, ummmm,” she hesitated while she thought of a viable excuse. Steve’s suggestion was unsettling, and she didn’t know why exactly. She had an idea, but she didn’t want to go there. Not yet.

  “C’mon. I think you’ll really love this place.”

  “Yeah, well . . . why don’t we just go somewhere after practice next week?”

  “Because you’ll invite the whole team. I want to go to this place with you.”

&n
bsp; He was teasing her, and Kelly knew it, but she wasn’t ready to give in. Not yet. “Alone, huh?” she said archly.

  Steve laughed. “Not exactly. There’ll be a bunch of people in the restaurant with us.”

  “Well . . . ,” she hedged.

  “C’mon, Kelly. We’ve already gone to dinner together at Curt and Ruth’s house. This is exactly the same, just without Curt and Ruth.” His grin turned wicked.

  Rats. He was outflanking her. Kelly didn’t like being outflanked. But she also didn’t want to act like an idiot, either. Steve was right. They had already been to dinner together.

  “Okaaaay,” she agreed in a bargaining tone. “Only if we meet at the restaurant after work.”

  “Separate cars again, huh?” Steve chuckled. “You really are afraid someone at the shop will see us going out.”

  “No, I’m just afraid you’ll roll around with slobbery Carl before we go, that’s all,” Kelly teased as she headed for her front door.

  Steve laughed. “Okay. Friday night, next week. Six o’clock.”

  Kelly gave him a thumbs-up sign and waved good-bye as she escaped into the cottage. As long as they were joking and teasing, it was fine. Anything other than that was . . . well, was something else. And she just wasn’t ready for something else. At least, not yet.

  Nineteen

  Kelly rounded the corner from the café into the knitting shop and nearly ran right into Mimi. “Whoa, I’m sorry, Mimi. I’ve gotta slow down on those corners,” Kelly apologized, stepping back.

  “That’s okay, Kelly. I was lost in thought and not paying attention,” Mimi said.

  Mimi still looked pale, instead of her usual radiant self. “How’re you doing, Mimi?” she asked gently, unable to conceal her worry. “You still look tired. Maybe you should go back home.”

  “No no,” Mimi refused, shaking her head. “I’m rattling about like a bean in a can back at home. This is where I want to be. The shop is home to me, Kelly. You know that. Besides, I’m much happier when I’m busy.”

 

‹ Prev