Stone Cold Case (A Rock Shop Mystery)

by Catherine Dilts

  “Gayle needs your help. She needs a ride to the rock shop. Can you take us home?”

  She tugged on the halter and aimed in the direction of the light. Houdini took a step, then another. Gayle couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds, but the donkey trudged along as though she weighed a thousand. Then he stopped. Morgan pulled and Gayle nudged gently with her heels, but he refused to budge.

  “Look!” Gayle pointed.

  Tall grass rippled as a creature zigzagged toward them. Houdini didn’t seem alarmed, so Morgan guessed it wasn’t a coyote. Dog burst out of the grass. His tongue hung out one side of his grinning mouth. He careened into Morgan’s legs, nearly knocking her down. As she rubbed his head, his tail wagged so hard his back feet nearly went airborne.

  “Here, boy,” a male voice called, then a whistle pierced the air.

  Morgan saw the glow of a flashlight, the white arc sweeping back and forth, and behind it, the silhouette of a sturdy man wearing a fedora.

  “Kurt!” Morgan yelled. “Over here!”

  Kurt broke into a run, slashing a noisy path through the grass. He threw his arms around Morgan, pulling her into a bear hug. For the first time in hours, she felt safe.

  “Hi, Mr. Willard.” Gayle’s voice was as raspy as an old smoker’s.

  “Are you ladies okay?” Kurt shrugged out of his trench coat and held it out to Morgan. “You must be freezing.”

  “Gayle needs it more than me. Cooper nearly succeeded in poisoning her.”

  Kurt helped Gayle pull on the coat that was several sizes too large. Houdini grunted once or twice, but remained still as Gayle hugged the coat around herself. Dog danced in circles around them.

  “Cooper tried to kill us both,” Morgan said.

  “And bury us alive,” Gayle said.

  “He tried to suffocate us with paint thinner.” The story still had gaps in it, but Morgan knew one thing for certain. “I’ll bet that’s how he killed Carlee. You can still smell it.”

  She held out her sweatshirt sleeve for Kurt to sniff. He wrinkled his nose.

  “Phew. Which Cooper was it?” Kurt asked. “Most of the family was on your suspect list.”

  “The old one,” Gayle said. “Chase’s dad. Do you have a phone?” Gayle’s words trembled past her lips. “I need to call my mom.”

  “In the inside pocket of my coat.”

  Gayle wrestled around in the brown leather coat until she found the correct pocket. The phone emitted soft beeps as she rapid-fired a number.

  “Hi, Mom?”

  While Gayle stumbled through a tearful conversation with Camille, Morgan and Kurt led Houdini. Dog ran ahead, then returned, then ran ahead again, urging them to move faster. Morgan could see the outline of the low building now. The lights came from the rock shop, not the Dalton ranch.

  “How did you find us?” Morgan asked.

  “Half of Golden Springs was already searching for Gayle. Del asked me to pick him up so he could help search for the three of you, and I wasn’t getting anywhere in town.”

  “Wait. I might be foggy from the fumes, but did you say three?”

  “Bernie is missing.”

  The stars spun in the blue-black sky, and for a moment Morgan thought she would pass out. Bernie had been beating her fist on the back door of the gallery. Cooper wouldn’t have let her walk away. And Bernie wouldn’t have left a friend behind.

  “That’s why Cooper left,” she said. “He had to bring Bernie here. Bury her with us.”

  “Where did Cooper take you?” Kurt asked.

  “A prospector’s pit. We should go back. Everyone’s searching in town. If he’s got Bernie, and she’s alive—” Morgan choked on the last word.

  “If Cooper went back to Golden Springs, the police might already have him in custody.”

  “If Bernie called them before Cooper got her.” Morgan tugged on Gayle’s sleeve. “You can call your mother from the rock shop. We’re almost there.”

  Gayle reluctantly ended her call and handed the phone to Kurt. He punched in a number while they continued walking.

  “Del, can you meet us at the road?” He paused while Del answered. “I found two of them.” Another pause. “I’ll call Sharp.” A final pause, then, “No, the ATV makes too much noise. You’ll see my flashlight.”

  Morgan tried to soothe Gayle while they travelled the last few yards across the pasture. She realized that for all the girl’s whining earlier, Gayle had been holding herself together. Now that they were so close to safety, she teetered on the edge of hysterics, slipping into the shock people experience after a near-death experience. Houdini increased his pace. Whether he was aware of Gayle’s trauma or just anxious to get back to the barn didn’t matter.

  Del met them at the fence. While Morgan and Kurt held the barbed wire strands apart, Del climbed through.

  “Let’s not waste any time.” He grasped Houdini’s halter with his left hand and turned him parallel to the fence.

  “Where are we going?” Gayle pointed across the road. “The lights are over there.”

  “Houdini can’t climb through the fence,” Del said. “The gate is up the road just a bit.”

  Gayle’s lips quivered and tears filled her eyes.

  “Unless you want to walk,” Morgan said.

  Gayle shook her head and grasped Houdini’s mane, standing up stiff as a bristle brush. Del headed up the fence line with the donkey and girl in tow, walking with more energy than seemed possible for the old cowboy. Morgan started to follow, but Kurt held her hand.

  “Deputy Parker answered my call. He and the chief are in the middle of another case.”

  “What could be more urgent than this?”

  “Suicide attempt,” Kurt whispered. “Marlene Cooper swallowed a bottle of pills.”

  “Maybe Harlan Cooper tried to kill his wife,” Morgan said.

  “The fact is, we might be on our own for a little longer. The Granite Junction police are on the way to assist, but it’s a long trip up the pass.”

  “Meanwhile Cooper might be headed to that pit with Bernie, and he’s going to see Gayle and I are gone.”

  “Can you tell me how to find it?” Kurt asked.

  “Hey,” Del yelled. “Are you coming or not?”

  “I can’t explain how to get there,” Morgan told Kurt. “But I think I could backtrack to it.”

  “Just tell me what direction,” Kurt said.

  Morgan shook her head. “I have to go.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  * * *

  When they explained the situation to Del, he grabbed Kurt’s elbow and led him several paces away from Gayle and Houdini. Morgan followed, keeping her eyes on the girl. Gayle’s legs hung over the donkey’s round sides. Houdini lowered his head and snatched a mouthful of grass.

  “You’d better take this.” Del reached inside his jacket and pulled out his revolver.

  “You might need it.” Kurt kept his voice low enough that Gayle wouldn’t hear. “We don’t know where Cooper is.”

  “I have the attack donkey.” Del pushed the gun at Kurt. “Take it.”

  Kurt raised his hands and took a step back. “How are you going to defend Gayle if you run into Cooper between here and there?”

  It wasn’t far to the rock shop as the magpie flies, but Del had to walk the donkey to the Daltons’ gate, and then back down Hill Street.

  “All right then.” Del replaced the gun in his shoulder holster. “At least take this.” He handed Morgan his heavy flashlight. “There’s enough moonlight to get us to the shop. Guess I’d better hurry.”

  Morgan was afraid Gayle would be reluctant to leave with a stranger. The teen seemed more concerned about reaching the wood-burning stove and the promise of hot cocoa.

  Dog seemed torn between following the donkey or Morgan and Kurt. He ran back and forth between them as they parted ways, then settled on staying close to Morgan.

  A wide swath had been trampled from the fence through the grass to the spo
t where Houdini, Dog, and Kurt had found Morgan and Gayle. A narrower path led them across the field, becoming harder to follow as the grass thinned. No wonder Vernon Dalton hadn’t noticed the prospector’s illegal pit on his property. He had little reason to spend time in this sparsely vegetated area of the ranch. His cattle no doubt preferred the more lush irrigated pastures.

  As they backtracked to the prospecting pit, Morgan had more time than she wanted to consider what they might find. The options for Bernie’s condition if she was in the pit were too horrifying to dwell on, so Morgan fretted about not finding her, and having wasted half the night in a fruitless search while Cooper escaped. Or wandering around in the chilly dark night while everyone in town celebrated his capture and Bernie’s safe return. Anything to keep herself from imagining her friend in that dark pit, alone.

  “He’s here.”

  Kurt clicked off his flashlight and crouched behind a cinquefoil bush. Morgan clicked her flashlight off, too. She huddled beside Kurt while Dog squirmed at her side. She saw red taillights at the bottom of the low hill.

  “Is that a crate in the back of his truck?” she whispered.

  A head appeared above the edge of the pit. Even at a distance, Morgan could hear Cooper’s curses.

  “He knows you’re gone.”

  “We’ve got to get Bernie,” Morgan said. “She’s in that crate.”

  Morgan started to stand, but Kurt pulled her down.

  “We can’t just go charging down there,” he said. “Cooper has a gun, and he’s quick to use it.”

  Morgan thought of Del’s offer, and wished Kurt had taken him up on it. But Del needed to protect a girl who wasn’t in any shape to defend herself.

  “We can circle around the fence line,” Morgan said. “That will take us right in front of his truck. He won’t see us.”

  “I want you to stay here.”

  “I can’t hide and watch,” Morgan said. “I have to do something.”

  Kurt reached for her hand. “You can go back to lead the police here.”

  That was the logical thing to do. Kurt squeezed her hand, then leaned close and gave her a brief kiss on the cheek. Morgan hugged him, holding on for a moment.

  “Be careful,” she whispered.

  Morgan crouched low and watched the scene at the bottom of the hill, knowing her view would end when she headed across the pasture. Dog followed, his seemingly boundless energy winding down to trot protectively by her side.

  Cooper cursed and kicked the crate, then shoved it to the edge of the truck’s tailgate. He climbed down and tugged. Cursed some more. While he wrestled with the crate, Morgan could see Kurt creeping along the fence line.

  She reminded herself that she would be more help showing the police where to find Bernie and Cooper than attempting to confront an armed homicidal man. Morgan jogged along the twice-trampled trail until she tripped and nearly fell. Her feet slowed, but her heart continued to race. Her lungs felt as though they were not pulling in any oxygen from the night air. After she dropped below the ridgeline, she turned her flashlight on. Dog trotted ahead, confident of the route. She followed.

  Across the field, a light swept back and forth. A flashlight. Sure the Granite Junction police had arrived, Morgan waved Del’s flashlight. The person broke into a run. Morgan turned and ran back toward the pit, Dog at her heels.

  Her legs felt like they were moving in slow motion. She scrambled down the hill toward the pit. The crate lay in a broken heap behind the truck’s tailgate. Bernie and Kurt stood together, their hands raised in surrender. Cooper aimed his gun at them.

  “The police are coming!” Morgan attempted to yell, but her voice came out a hoarse croak.

  Even if Cooper hadn’t heard her words, he must have seen her. The gun aimed in her direction as she ran down the hill. Kurt made a move, but Cooper swung back toward him. Morgan waved her arms above her head, hoping to draw his fire. Maybe he would miss at this distance, and Kurt could get the gun away from him. At the very least, the police officer behind her would realize what was happening. Then it occurred to Morgan that she should have warned the police about Cooper’s gun. She spun around, ready to run up the hill.

  Am I that oxygen-deprived?

  Stars danced in front of her eyes. Morgan wasn’t sure whether they were the ones in the night sky, or ones formed inside her own head. She heard the sound of a gunshot at the same moment that she sat on the ground hard. A puff of dust exploded from the dirt beside Morgan as the bullet hit the hill instead of her.

  A hand clamped around her bicep. Morgan yelped as someone jerked her to her feet. Dog growled, the short fur on his neck and shoulders rising in a primitive threat.

  “Call your dog off,” Chase Cooper said.

  Morgan gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  He didn’t answer her. “Dad! What’s the situation?”

  Harlan Cooper’s voice echoed up the hill. “About time you got here. I need a hand.”

  Chase gripped Morgan’s arm and steered her down the hill. In his other hand he held a gun. She struggled to keep her feet under her. Dog slunk along at her side, the fur on his neck bristling. When they reached the truck, Chase pushed her toward Kurt and Bernie.

  “Huh,” Bernie said. “And here we had Chase pegged as a mere pervert. Turns out you’re a murderer, too. Like father, like son.”

  “You aren’t going to get away with this,” Kurt said.

  Cooper snorted. “This isn’t the movies, reporter boy. No one’s looking for you out here. They’re all busy fighting a fire. Right, son?”

  The fumes in the gallery’s third floor storage room had overwhelmed Morgan. She had wondered then about the fire hazard. The fumes had been recent and deliberate.

  “Vernon Dalton knows where this pit is,” Morgan said, her voice raspy. “He’ll think of it when news about all of us going missing reaches him, and he’ll lead the police straight here.”

  “You won’t be here. Now that my boy is here to help, we’ll move you to a place too remote to be found until you’re nothing but bones.”

  “Just like Carlee,” Morgan said. “You killed her.”

  Chase took a step closer to his father. Morgan tried to read his expression, but between the moonlight and the burn scar on the right side of his face, she couldn’t guess what he was thinking.

  “Or were you covering up for Chase?” Morgan asked. “Of course. You pinned your political hopes on your son first, but when he put himself out of the running by committing murder, you turned to your son-in-law.”

  “Wow, that’s twisted,” Bernie said. “But you can’t get away with killing the three of us. Not after shooting the mountain man in front of witnesses.”

  If Chase seemed emotionless, the talk was having an effect on Harlan. He pressed the back of his free hand to his forehead, wiping away sweat.

  “Shut up!” Harlan yelled. “We’re heading to the rock shop. Everyone knows Delano Addison is armed, and he’s a hotheaded geezer. It’s entirely believable that he’d accidentally shoot you thinking you’re home intruders.”

  “All three?” Chase asked. “I doubt he could get off three good shots with his bum arm.” He glanced at Bernie. “And no one would believe the baker committed mass murder.”

  Was Chase trying to convince his father to end his spree of kidnapping and violence, or was he trying to come up with a better plan? Morgan couldn’t decide.

  “Gee, thanks,” Bernie said. “I’d like to think I’m incapable of being the monsters you two obviously are.”

  “That’s the kind of sass I’d expect from you,” Harlan said. “But the townsfolk all believe you’re such a sweet girl. Chase’s right. They’d never buy it. Morgan, now, she’s an outsider. From a city. Maybe you snapped under the pressure of trying to keep your family’s ratty rock shop open.” He shook his head. “Not the snapping kind. The newspaperman? Also an outsider, and kind of an oddball. But the choice is obvious. It has to be a Kruger. That family’s so messed up, it woul
dn’t be a stretch to believe one of them had it in her to slaughter a roomful of people.”

  “Gayle?” Morgan asked. “No matter how carefully you try to arrange the crime scene, no one will believe that. The police will figure it out. You’re not as smart as you think. I know you’re responsible for the pit behind us. You dug it looking for ammolite. You’re the one trying to buy the Dalton place. Letting their cattle loose, knowing that if any of their herd was killed, it would be financially devastating. Trying to force them out.”

  “You two were on the ATVs,” Bernie said. “You tried to kill my boyfriend!”

  Cooper smiled. “You girls are brighter than I thought.”

  He seemed ready to tell all, so Morgan kept throwing out her hunches.

  “You gave Carlee that ammolite necklace,” Morgan said.

  “Necklace?” Harlan glanced at Chase.

  Morgan hoped they were going to spill the solution, the final details of Carlee’s death, when Harlan spoke again.

  “If Golden Springs wasn’t full of busybodies, it wouldn’t have come to this. That bunch of old biddies thinking Gerda and Camille needed some kind of a reunion.” Harlan snorted. “None of this would be happening right now if they’d left well enough alone.” He waved his gun at Morgan. “And you, playing amateur detective. Getting your friends killed.”

  “No one’s dead yet,” Kurt said. “We can end this without violence.”

  “Naw,” Harlan drawled. “Hey, I like this scenario better. Try this one on for size. The Kruger brat gets shot breaking into the rock shop, and old Del kills himself when he realizes what he’s done. The three of you disappear, never to be seen again.”

  “Kurt’s right about one thing, Dad,” Chase said. “No one’s dead yet. By the time we take care of these three, and get back to the rock shop to finish the job, the police could already be there.”

  “They’ll be too busy with that fire. It should be going pretty good by now, right?” Cooper waited for a reply, then turned to look at his son. “You did torch the place, like I told you to?”

  “Dad, I don’t see a way out of this. I’ve lived with knowing what you did to the Kruger family long enough.”