Stone Cold Case

by Catherine Dilts

  Kurt glanced at Morgan, the alarm obvious in his raised brows and cheeks flushed a deeper red than usual. Morgan wondered what Beatrice had in mind. Conversion to the tenets of their faith? Becoming an elder of the church? Morgan felt a blush creep up her own cheeks.

  “You have to wash dishes afterwards.” Beatrice folded her arms across her chest and leaned back into the stiff wooden pew, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

  The Krugers were united in the front pew. Gayle nestled between her mother and grandmother in a tangle of intertwined arms. The teenager wore a remarkably boring pink sweater that covered her shoulders. The streaks of green and purple in her glorious golden hair were all that differentiated her from the enlarged photos of her aunt on the stage. Farley twisted around to look at the rows of pews behind him, gave a weak smile, and waved at Kurt.

  Beatrice leaned close to Morgan. “The eleven-year-old never knew his aunt,” she whispered, “but nearly losing his sister hit him hard. Camille almost had to tie him to a chair to keep him from joining the search. Poor little guy.”

  Poster-sized photos of Carlee Kruger on the stage were surrounded by arrangements containing spikes of elephant-head flowers. Pastor Filbury delivered a moving eulogy. Then people rose to speak, climbing three steps to the podium, fumbling with the microphone and crinkling papers or shuffling note cards. Somewhere in the middle of the grieving and the tears, the somber memorial turned into a celebration of Carlee’s life.

  As Beatrice returned from her turn at the podium, and her story about Carlee’s first day in Sunday school, she squinted toward the back of the church. She slid onto her seat next to Morgan.

  “It’s him,” she whispered.

  Morgan turned to look. Jade Tinsley leaned against the wall, perhaps attempting to blend in with the woodwork. His hands were shoved deep in the pockets of black slacks. His white shirt was rumpled. Morgan prayed he wouldn’t make some kind of scene that would disrupt the healing.

  After considering him as a potential murderer, she wasn’t quite ready to let go of her animosity. If he hadn’t gotten Camille pregnant, Carlee wouldn’t have been drawn into Harlan Cooper’s trap. She hoped he was here at least partly to repent.

  Jade noticed Morgan. He focused on her for a moment, his face taut with grief. He nodded and mouthed the words, “Thank you,” then spun on one heel and left.

  Kurt was a good sport about cleaning the kitchen, accepting the most manly apron available, and scrubbing the toughest casserole dishes. He disappeared while Morgan and the ladies wiped counters and put away the clean coffee mugs.

  Bernie leaned through the kitchen doorway. “Morgan, Mr. Thompson just announced that the Cooper family made a donation to the historical park in Carlee’s name. They’re sending a blue spruce sapling over to the park later this week.”

  Just as fast as she’d appeared, Bernie left. Beatrice grabbed a chair as though she needed the support, then slowly sank onto the padded seat.

  “Are you okay?” Anna asked.

  “I was so afraid.”

  “What is it, Beatrice?” Teruko asked.

  “The tree?” Beatrice looked at each of the kitchen ladies one by one. “The donation to the park? I thought the Cooper family might escalate their hatred of the Krugers after losing their patriarch. But perhaps the feud is over.”

  “Ah.” Teruko sat on a chair beside Beatrice. “Yes, they sent peace offerings.”

  “I don’t know.” Morgan shook her head. “Marlene nearly killed herself, and Mia was such a daddy’s girl, I can’t see her making peace with the Kruger family.”

  “Perhaps Chase is behind the donation,” Teruko said. “It is he who most needs healing. He kept many secrets that a boy should not have known.”

  “Did anyone else notice Jade sneak in the back of the church?” Anna asked.

  “No,” Teruko said. “I did not see him.”

  “He left before the service ended.”

  Anna stopped, her eyes on the doorway. Kurt grasped the doorjamb with one hand.

  “Are we done here?” he asked.

  “No.” Teruko struggled to her feet and tapped across the kitchen tiles in her stylish pumps. She reached for Kurt’s hand. “We are not done until we thank you.” Her voice wavered more than usual. “You saved Morgan, Bernie, and the Kruger girl.”

  “In a way,” Anna said, “you saved Golden Springs. The town couldn’t have survived another blow like Carlee’s death. Not emotionally.”

  “Or spiritually,” Beatrice added.

  “I don’t think you give yourselves enough credit,” Morgan said. “In my four months here, I’ve learned how resilient you are.”

  “Don’t speak as though you’re an outsider,” Anna said. “You’re part of this town now, like it or not.”

  When she finally pulled herself away from the group hug, Morgan walked with Kurt to the church parking lot. He held the door for her as she climbed into his vintage Plymouth. He put the key in the ignition, but didn’t start the car. Instead, he turned to look at Morgan.

  “I thought this was a game when I started turning over rocks and poking sticks in dark holes,” Kurt said. “I never imagined my amateur sleuthing would endanger you. Or that I’d end up . . . I wish it could have ended differently.”

  Morgan put her hand on Kurt’s arm. “You had no choice. Harlan Cooper was a murderer. You acted, not even in self-defense, but in defense of other people.” Morgan closed her eyes for a moment. “Hey, you didn’t explain why you were walking across the Daltons’ field with Houdini that night.”

  “I told you Del called me, wanting a ride into town to help search for the three of you.”

  “Yes.” Morgan waited. There had to be more.

  “When I got there, Houdini was kicking the barn door. Del said he’d never seen the donkey do that before. He opens pasture gates all the time, and even went through the side of the barn when Evan Howe had made an opening for himself, but the barn door was a first. I would have ignored the donkey, except that he seemed to be waiting for someone to follow him.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I can’t explain it, but I felt like I was being led. Del suggested I follow him. I didn’t want to waste valuable time chasing a donkey when I needed to search for you, but then I saw a flash of light in the pasture. And we don’t have lightning bugs here.”

  “That was my flashlight. It quit working before you reached us.”

  “By then I could hear Gayle crying, and both Hawthorne and Houdini zeroed in on you. There was no stopping either one of them.”

  “If you hadn’t—”

  Kurt interrupted. “But I did.” He put his hand on top of Morgan’s. “Please don’t remind me I’m a hero. The entire town has been trying to throw that mantle on my shoulders, and frankly, it’s pretty darned uncomfortable to have expectations that high to live up to. Before all this mess with the Cooper family blew up, I recall that I made you a promise. I was going to take you out after the press conference. We ate leftovers with Del instead. I owe you dinner.”

  Morgan smiled. “You do.”

  “And I know the perfect place. The only problem is, the restaurant is half a day’s drive from here. Ah!” He held up his hand, pointing upward with his index finger. “I remember! There’s a nice bed and breakfast nearby.”

  “Oh. I’m, um . . .” Part of Morgan’s brain tried to tell her things were moving too fast, but it was shouted down by her heart. “That sounds relaxing. Er, nice. I mean, yes.”

  Kurt leaned across the wide seat of the Plymouth. Morgan scooted closer. Their lips met. Her cell phone vibrated.

  “My phone.” She winced. The caller ID was an unknown number. “Considering all that’s been going on, I’d better take this call.” She held the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Morgan,” her brother’s voice boomed. “Allie and I are in Denver. We need a ride from the airport.”

  She placed a hand over the phone. “It’s my brother,” she told Ku
rt. “Hang on.” She spoke into the phone. “When does your flight arrive?”

  “Now,” Kendall said. “We’re here. How long will it take you to get here?”

  “I was in the middle of something. Can you hang on for a minute?”

  Morgan didn’t wait for Kendall to answer. She covered the phone again.

  “You’re not going to believe this, but my brother and sister-in-law are at DIA. He needs a ride. Now.”

  “It’s a conspiracy.” Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, then shook his head. “I’ll take you.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “You’re not in any condition to drive. He patted the Plymouth’s steering wheel. “After we drop them off at the rock shop, we’ll head to the bed and breakfast. Kendall and Allie will need your room, right?”

  Morgan thought about the awkward explanation she would need to make to her brother about her plans, then considered the situation he’d dropped on her, with no warning, once again.

  She spoke into the phone.

  “We’re on the way.”

  “Oh, be sure to bring a car seat,” Kendall said. Allie said something in the background. Kendall spoke to Morgan again. “Allie says to get one of the little ones. You’re a mom. You know. For a baby. And hurry.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  * * *

  Catherine Dilts, a former flat-lander, writes amateur sleuth mysteries set in the Colorado mountains. She works as an environmental scientist, and plays at heirloom vegetable gardening, camping, and fishing. Her short fiction appears in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine. Stone Cold Case is the second book in the Rock Shop Mystery series. In her debut novel Stone Cold Dead, business is as dead as a dinosaur, but when Morgan Iverson finds the body of a Goth teen on a hiking trail, more than just the family rock shop could become extinct. Catherine loves rock shops because they are like geodes—both contain amazing treasures hidden inside their plain-as-dirt exteriors. Visit her at http://www.catherinedilts.com.