Anna Denning Mystery Series Box Set: Books 1–3

by Karin Kaufman

  “How did you find out I was working on your genealogy?”

  Paul snorted with satisfaction. She should have asked him a more difficult question, because this one he was going to enjoy answering. “Your friend Zoey.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Liz blurted out.

  “Not directly, she didn’t. No one does anything directly. She had someone at the Municipal Building do it.”

  “Then how do you know Zoey was behind it?” Anna asked.

  “Because this person at the Municipal Building, this person who was supposed to inform me that you were nosing into my family tree without telling me how she knew that”—he paused, prolonging his pleasure in the moment—“told me.”

  “Why would Zoey want you to know about my research?” Anna asked.

  “One question to a customer,” he said, pushing to his feet and sweeping crumbs from his jeans.

  Anna stood. He wasn’t going to look down on her with his imperious smirk. “I have another question. Why do you want to take Esther Vance’s house?” Immediately she regretted bringing Esther into the conversation. It was best for Esther if Paul didn’t have her on his mind.

  “It’s a classic Craftsman.”

  “I’ve seen it. It’s no different from any other house on her street, except maybe it’s a little more run-down, which is all the more reason you shouldn’t take it.”

  “I’m not taking it, the town of Elk Park is.”

  “Oh, please,” Anna groaned. “Elk Park.” Translation? He had engaged a faceless entity to do the dirty work.

  Paul exited without another word and disappeared from view as he walked west on Summit. Anna sat, hoping he would run into Maddy and Alex on his way and get some of that smugness knocked right out of him. The pity she’d felt for him minutes ago had evaporated.

  Dish towel in hand, Grace Bell marched down the length of the café to Anna’s table. “Like a child,” she said, scolding Paul in his absence for the mess he had left. She swept the crumbs into one hand, looked at Anna’s cup, then said, “You’ve hardly touched your coffee. Is something wrong with it?”

  “Never, Grace.” Anna glanced down at her cup, three-quarters full. She always bought black to save coffee money, and here she’d wasted a hot pumpkin spice latte on Paul Gilmartin. “I got carried away with the conversation, that’s all.”

  “I could tell,” Grace said, wiping her hands on her apron. “The man was unpleasant to me when he ordered his muffin. No appreciation for anyone else’s hard work. Did you know you can judge people’s characters by the state of their tables? Selfish people”—she tipped her chin at Paul’s vacated spot—“don’t pick up after themselves.”

  “Selfish is the least of his troubles,” Anna replied. “Can I leave Jackson with Suka for a couple hours? I’ve got something I need to do.”

  “You don’t even need to ask. Suka will love that.”

  “Thanks.” Anna lifted her cup and took several long gulps, nearly draining it.

  “That’s what I like to see,” Grace said as she headed back to the counter.

  Liz watched Grace, waiting until she was back at the counter before turning to Anna. “Zoey,” she snapped, before upending her cup for the last tablespoon of coffee. “Why would she tell Paul? If she did, I mean. Gilmartin’s not exactly trustworthy.”

  “I think he was telling the truth about that.” Anna felt a sudden sense of resolve. It was time for the lies to come to an end. She emptied her cup and jammed her hands into her jacket pockets. “I’m going to straight out ask Zoey why she told Paul about me. Have you got her phone number?”

  “Let me ask her,” Liz said. “No offense, but she might be more willing to tell me.”

  Anna agreed. Zoey and Liz had formed a bond of sorts over their contacts and separate but similar investigations. “Has there been any progress on the two murders? Last I read on your website, the police were stumped.”

  “They still are—or at least that’s what they’re telling the public. They always know more than they’re willing to say.”

  “Come on,” Anna said, starting for the door. “Got time for some investigating?”

  “It’s my job to have time for that.”

  Pushing out the Buffalo’s front door, they met a wall of chilly air that belied the day’s bright sun and blue skies. Anna paused by Cody the Buffalo, inhaling the smell of hot cider from a nearby food cart and piñon wood burning in someone’s fireplace or wood stove. “How did Paul make his money?” she said. “His father disappeared when he was eighteen. Paul doesn’t even know where he is, so I don’t think he received an inheritance.”

  “His father made honey—what kind of salary does that bring?”

  “Not much, according to Esther. She told me Walter wasn’t paid well, despite making money for the Sadlers. Maybe that’s why Emerson Sadler fired Alex’s grandfather and hired Paul’s father. Alex was fifty-four and demanding more money. Paul’s father was a teenager at the time—Sadler could have paid him peanuts.”

  “Speak of the devil’s mistress,” Liz said. “Look who’s trying to get our attention.”

  Waving madly from a fresh-off-the-lot cherry red hatchback, Maddy Gilmartin slowed and pulled close to a line of cars parked at the curb, blocking eastbound traffic behind her. She rolled down the window on the passenger side as car horns set up a howl. “Hey, you two,” she said, oblivious to the trouble she was causing. “Have you got a moment? I want to show you something.”

  Anna and Liz edged toward the car.

  “I don’t suppose she’d pick us up in broad daylight if she meant to kill us,” Anna said under her breath.

  “Hilarious, Anna.”

  “Come on, come on,” Maddy said. “I’m going to blow your minds.”

  12

  Maddy pulled to the curb at 826 Bonner Street and finally flicked off her radio, putting an end to a string of deafening seventies rock tunes. She had refused to tell Anna and Liz where they were headed, maintaining her self-imposed silence by making it impossible to talk. Or think. Anna didn’t realize they were in front of Esther Vance’s house until Maddy shut off the engine.

  Liz unhooked her seat belt and rested a hand on the back of Anna’s seat.

  “It’s Esther Vance’s house,” Anna said over her shoulder.

  “You’ve been here?” Maddy said.

  “Once before.”

  “Delicious!”

  Anna pushed the car door shut and stepped to the sidewalk, wondering what had transported Maddy to such heights of joy. “Is Esther expecting us?” she asked, hitching her purse on her shoulder.

  “Of course.” Maddy moved swiftly for Esther’s door, her red trainers flying as she bounded up the front steps. “I made a discovery,” she said before poking a finger at the doorbell. “Alex is going to die when he sees this.”

  Maddy began to count aloud. On ten, she hit the bell again. “I was raised to give a full ten seconds on the first knock or ring, especially with the elderly,” she explained.

  “When was Esther expecting you?” Anna asked.

  “This afternoon,” Maddy said.

  “Nothing more exact than that?” Liz asked with growing impatience.

  “Well for crying out loud, she never goes anywhere,” Maddy said. She started down the steps, calling for Anna and Liz to follow, then cut across the front lawn and down the south side of the house, where grass half a foot high had gone to seed. “Why doesn’t she take care of this?” Maddy grumbled.

  “We shouldn’t be on her property when she’s not here,” Anna said, stopping at the corner of the house, Liz at her side.

  It took a moment for Anna’s words to register with Maddy. She swung back. “Esther said I could show you. She wanted your opinion, and it’s not like we’re entering her house.”

  “If you’re sure,” Anna said, putting her objections on hold and following Maddy. The woman intended to do some snooping with or without her, she reasoned, so she might as well keep an eye on her. She and
Liz exchanged skeptical looks but continued trudging to the back yard, at one point stepping around a pane of broken glass, though as far as Anna could see, none of the windows at the side of the house had been broken.

  She stopped at the back corner of the house and gazed out over Alex Root’s land, a field of knee-high brittle weeds and thorny twigs. Just beyond Esther’s yard, a dirt path led through the field to a stand of trees—nearly all bark now, except for a few stubborn leaves. The autumn sun slanting through the trees struck the dangling leaves and they glowed like chips of blood-red amber.

  “Anyway,” Maddy said, casting a critical eye over Esther’s back yard, “this house belongs partly to the town of Elk Park now, not Esther Vance. Thank goodness.” She stopped at the back of the house, dead center, and squatted inches from the foundation, near a foot-tall garden gnome.

  Anna came to a stop next to Maddy but remained standing. “Then maybe the town of Elk Park can help with her mowing.”

  Maddy giggled appreciatively until her eyes met Anna’s. “Oh, I thought you were joking.”

  “Helping Esther is the least the town could do, since now the upkeep’s going to be even more expensive for her.”

  Maddy shooed away the thought with a flick of her fingers. “Now look at this.” She grabbed a handful of grass and pulled it downward, revealing strange markings in the fieldstone foundation.

  “What is it?” Liz asked, bending down.

  Anna knew instantly. It looked exactly like Maddy’s tattoo.

  “A sigil,” Maddy said. She lovingly contemplated it, and with her other hand she brushed away more grass.

  “An occult seal,” Anna said in answer to Liz’s puzzled glance.

  “Asmodeus, Asmodai,” Maddy breathed, ripping out the grass in front of the sigil.

  “Why did you want to show this to me?” Anna said.

  Maddy stood abruptly and faced Anna. “You said you don’t believe in demons.”

  “No, I never said that.”

  “I asked you if you did, and you never answered me.”

  “That’s something completely different, isn’t it?”

  Maddy pressed her palms together, pleading with Anna. “I want you to understand what they truly are. They’re wondrous beings.”

  Anna swallowed a grunt of disgust. Someone, possibly Maddy herself, had scrawled a demonic symbol into the stone, and she was supposed to swoon over it like a schoolgirl. “Maddy, stop. You’re trying to sway the wrong person. Anyway, why do you care what I think?”

  Liz crouched by the sigil and dug through her purse until she found a small camera.

  “What are you doing?” Maddy said.

  “I should think that was obvious,” Liz said, positioning her camera a foot from the sigil and taking several photos.

  “A demon is a divine being,” Maddy said in protest.

  “Scratches in fieldstone aren’t divine,” Anna said. “Anyway, don’t you think it’s strange you’re just discovering this now?” She crouched beside Liz and ran her fingers over the symbol, noting the patina of it and of the surrounding fieldstone.

  “Asmodeus predates the New Testament,” Maddy said, continuing her lecture. “In the written form, that is. In reality, he predates the foundation of the world.”

  “Well, this carving is much more recent,” Anna said.

  “Alex knew,” Maddy said, pumping the air with her fist. “He knew that this land, the activity here, all around it, was powerful.” She thrust out her arms and whirled in place, her face to the sky.

  “Are you listening to what I’m saying, Maddy?” Anna rose. “This so-called sigil is recent. It doesn’t even date to the foundation of the house, let alone the foundation of the world.”

  Maddy teetered to a stop. “Of course it does. It goes back to 1927, when this house was built.”

  “Look closely,” Anna said, “the lines of the sigil are fresh. If it was the same age as the stone it’s on, its lines would have darkened with exposure to the elements at the same rate. It would have the same patina.”

  Maddy’s lips parted, but no words came. Her delusions of demon grandeur were fading before her eyes and ears.

  “Not only that,” Anna continued, “but some of those lines are rough. They haven’t worn at all—feel them. I’d say that sigil’s no more than a few days old.”

  “I see what you mean,” Liz said, touching the stone.

  “And the scratches are shallow,” Anna said. “If the sigil had been made when the house was built, before the stone was laid, it would have been done properly. But it looks like someone got down on the ground and awkwardly scratched it in. I’ll bet it’s not even a complete sigil, Maddy. Your tattoo is more intricate.”

  “No,” Maddy said, her cheeks beginning to flush. “How can you so casually tear down . . .” It was hard to tell if she was angry because she believed the sigil was old or because her deception had been so easily discovered. Or maybe the sigil wasn’t Maddy’s deception. Maybe someone had tried to deceive her.

  “Who carved this?” Anna said. “Esther sure didn’t do it.”

  “Where is Esther?” Liz asked, rising and stowing her camera in her purse.

  Anna pulled on the door to the house’s small, screened-in back patio, but it was locked, and she saw that the curtains on all the rear windows had been drawn. She marched back along the side of the house and made her way to the front door. When another doorbell ring and several loud raps on the door went unanswered, Anna tried to peer through the windows on either side of the door, but blinds blocked most of her view.

  “I’m sure she’ll be back later,” Maddy said, trotting down the steps to her car. “Want a ride?”

  “Of course we do,” Liz said, darting after Maddy. “Anna’s car’s in town. You can drop us off by the Buffalo.”

  Anna grudgingly followed Liz to Maddy’s car. She found her purse on the passenger seat, reprimanded herself for leaving it in an unlocked car, and dropped it on the floor at her feet. As soon as she got out of Maddy’s car she’d call Clovis and have her check on Esther. “Esther could be with Clovis,” Anna said over her shoulder. Liz agreed, and the two consoled themselves with that possibility.

  “Off to the Buffalo,” Maddy said as she pulled from the curb. She was cheerful again, and the flush had drained somewhat from her cheeks. Before she could reach for the radio knob, Anna asked her how she had found out about the sigil.

  “Oh,” Maddy said, as though just remembering the purpose for their drive to Esther’s house. “Either Esther or Zoey found it. I don’t know which. Maybe Esther . . . then she told . . .” She took her right hand off the steering wheel, sorting her thoughts by twiddling her fingers. It seemed to help her think, so Anna said nothing, though she wished Maddy would at least look as though her mind was on her driving. “Then Esther told Zoey? Or the other way around? Anyway, I heard it from Zoey.”

  “It doesn’t seem strange to you that Esther had never seen it before?”

  “Maybe she had.” Maddy stared straight ahead.

  “Or that someone just happened to pull back the grass at the foundation at just the right spot?”

  “These things have a way of being found out.”

  Anna didn’t bother to argue. Maddy wasn’t half as featherbrained as she liked to pretend and knew very well the sigil was counterfeit. But was she trying to figure out who drew it or was she wondering how she could have been so sloppy as to show Anna an obvious fake?

  “I hear you and Paul are ranchers,” Anna said.

  “Wow.” Maddy eased up on the gas pedal and drifted slowly toward a stop sign. “We own ranchland, we’ve never run a working ranch. Where did that come from?” She stepped hard on the brake, coming to a wrenching halt at the sign, then put the car in park. “I’m asking you—where did that come from?”

  “It was just a question,” Anna said. Maddy could switch moods, from cheery to confused to enraged, faster than anyone she had ever known.

  “It’s not a secre
t, is it?” Liz said.

  “Of course it’s not, don’t be stupid,” Maddy said.

  “Hey,” Liz said. “There’s no need for that.”

  The conversation was deteriorating rapidly, and it was time for an appeal to Maddy’s ego. Anna suspected the woman had a rather large one. “I envy you. I’ve always wanted to own acreage, especially near the Wyoming border.”

  “So go for it,” Maddy said tersely. She threw the car into gear and swung onto Elk River Road.

  “Oh, I could never afford it. You and Paul must have saved every dime for years and years.”

  Maddy cackled. “God, no. Save money?”

  How old fashioned of me, Anna thought.

  “No, no. Paul had an inheritance. And I mean a huge one,” she said with a wink. They were friends again, giggling over secrets and double-entendres.

  “Enough for the ranch?”

  “For the ranch, the house in Elk Park, the rest of our lives. Especially since we leased our land to a wind company. Talk about a gold mine.” She hung a left onto Summit and drove west for the Buffalo. “Asmodeus. To give thanks where it’s due.”

  “Asmodeus leased your land to the wind company?”

  Maddy double-parked again, this time across the street from the Buffalo. “Anna, aren’t you afraid to say his name in such a flippant way?”

  Anna scrambled for her purse as the driver in the pickup behind Maddy gently beeped his horn. “Names can’t hurt us, Maddy.” Shutting the car door, Anna mouthed “sorry” to the pickup driver then leaned down to look at Maddy. “Thanks for the ride. I’d look into that sigil. Someone’s trying to put one over on you.”

  “Asmodeus had nothing to do with the land lease,” Maddy shouted as Anna and Liz started down the sidewalk. She gunned her motor and took off down Summit, much to the relief of the cars she had blocked.

  “Aren’t we crossing the street to get Jackson?” Liz asked.

  “Yes, I just wanted to get away from that woman as quickly as possible.” Anna stopped and stepped to the curb, looking for a break in the traffic. “Can you email me the photos you took of the sigil?”

  “As soon as I get home.”