She spoke quietly, so she wouldn’t wake Cheri. “Everything ok?”
“I’ll tell you about it in the morning.” Jake nodded his head toward the bed. “How is Cheri?”
“Shaken up, frightened. Physically she’s a strong woman but she liked Ann Rutledge and she feels responsible for her death.” Emma sighed. “I told her I would go with her to the memorial service.”
“I’ve been thinking, Emma,” said Jake, his voice dropping so low Emma had to sit up and put her head next to his to hear. “It’s not safe for Cheri to go to her house when she is released.”
“Won’t the police give her more protection?” asked Emma, surprised.
“I’m sure they will but if the person who is after Cheri will kill a police officer to get to her, I think it would be safer for her to just disappear for awhile.”
“Disappear where?” asked Emma.
“There’s the cabin,” offered Jake. Emma knew he was referring to a cabin he’d inherited from his father just outside of Ayers Natural Bridge Park, about an hour southeast of Casper in neighboring Converse County.
“That would work,” agreed Emma, “I’ll go with her.”
“No, Emma, then you’d be in danger,” Jake protested.
“No one will know where we are,” Emma pointed out. “I won’t even tell Kristy. We’ll put out a story that we’re going to stay with Cheri’s family out of state.”
Jake frowned. “Fine, but I’m going with you.”
Emma kissed his cheek. “That works for me. It’ll be harder to explain why we’re both going with Cheri to her mythical out of state family, but I always feel safer when you’re with me.”
Jake settled back in his chair, “We’ll let Joyner worry about that.”
Emma laid back down on her couch. “Agreed,” she said sleepily.
Cheri’s nurse checked the room every two hours, smiling at Jake, who sat awake in the chair while the women slept. He was taking no chances that someone might slip by the hospital staff and try to get to Cheri.
As he listened to Emma’s slow, steady breathing and Cheri’s more restless sleep, he went over the interview with Kristy. He knew Joyner still considered her his prime suspect so he tried to set aside his friendship and consider the situation dispassionately.
First, he considered the murder of Vince Shipton. According to Joyner, Shipton had been shot at close quarters during the May Day Blizzard. None of his neighbors, and all of the apartments had been occupied, had reported hearing an argument or a gunshot.
Jake remembered the gun he’d seen Kristy wield at her apartment. Joyner hadn’t shared the ballistics report with Jake but he knew a 9mm would make enough noise to be heard. It was an easy weapon to silence, either with a commercially-produced silencer or something as simple as shooting through a throw pillow.
The snow had been awful that night and Jake had pointed out to Joyner that travel had still been possible but it would still have been much simpler for Kristy to slip down during the storm. She had told Emma she’d met Shipton in the lobby - perhaps she’d known him better than that.
Jake closed his eyes and pictured the scene. Shipton in his apartment, perhaps packing because of the letter his employer had received saying he was leaving town. The storm howling outside, Shipton would have heard a knock on the door.
Opening the door to Kristy, he either would have recognized her or known her so he let her in. They would have talked. Maybe they’d had some sort of affair and Kristy would have become upset that Shipton was leaving town.
Jake knew from Emma that Kristy made it a habit to carry her gun in her purse so perhaps in the heat of a lover’s quarrel maybe she had pulled it out and shot Shipton. Some women carried their purses out of habit wherever they went or she could have taken it deliberately to conceal her weapon until she was ready to strike.
But why plan to kill Shipton, assuming it was not a crime of passion? Jake couldn’t think of any motive Kristy would have for wanting Shipton dead. If Joyner knew of a motive, he hadn’t shared it with him.
Deciding he’d gotten as far as he was likely to get thinking about the first murder, Jake turned his thoughts to the attack on Cheri at the Solstice Rodeo. Here again, Kristy had easy access to her victim, if indeed she was the attacker. She had been with Cheri at the rodeo and had accompanied her to the ladies room. As Joyner had pointed out, Kristy had been the last person to be with Cheri before the attack and the first person to find her. She had ample opportunity.
But again, Jake was stuck on motive. What motive could Kristy have for attacking her friend? Cheri was a Vice President at the bank where Kristy had an account but thousands of people in Casper had accounts at that bank. He assumed Kristy had a mortgage on her condo but Cheri didn’t handle mortgages or foreclosures.
Not making progress on what Kristy’s motive might be, he wondered why she or anyone else would attack Cheri in a such a crowded public place. If you wanted to kill someone, why would you risk being seen when you could simply ring her doorbell and wait for her to answer?
Giving up that line of thinking, Jake came to the murder of Officer Rutledge. Here, at least, Kristy would have had a motive. She knew that Cheri had not identified her as the person who stabbed her. She might not know why, but she would have been desperate to find out.
She made an excuse to go see Cheri, late at night when she could be sure she would be home. It would have been quite a surprise to find a policewoman guarding Cheri but here again, Kristy would have been expecting Cheri to confront her about the attack. Maybe Cheri even mentioned to her that she had no memory of the attack but that she was working with Emma to recover those memories.
Emma had said that Cheri was making progress so if Cheri seemed confident her memory would return soon, Kristy may have panicked. She could have used the circumstance of the cat fight to lure Officer Rutledge outside.
That Kristy had not simply used her gun to shoot Cheri and Officer Rutledge made sense. Anyone who watched crime shows on television knew that the police could use ballistics to match the bullets from the same gun. Kristy would have had to grab something from the car then go back after Officer Rutledge. She may not even have meant to kill the police officer, but simply get her out of the way quietly.
With Ann Rutledge dead, Kristy would have gone back to the house to take care of Cheri. He supposed she would have walked up and rung the bell, perhaps thinking she could say her car wouldn’t start or some other trifle to get Cheri to open the door. She would have realized when Cheri called out for Ann that she didn’t have an explanation for why the officer had not returned with her.
When she heard the sirens, she would have fled. She might have stopped at Just Gas on the way home knowing the purchase would be documented and she would need an alibi. Just Gas was completely automated after midnight so if her clothes were blood splattered, no one would have noticed. She would have had ample time to return home, shower and dispose of any soiled clothes before he and Joyner had arrived.
It made sense, he thought, if you only considered opportunity. Kristy had the opportunity to strike in all three instances. What she didn’t have was a motive. Why would she want to kill Vince Shipton and Cheri Jackson?
He looked over at his wife, sleeping soundly on the hospital couch. Emma would argue that Kristy was not the kind of person to kill, but he was not so easily swayed. True, he liked Kristy and he would not have guessed her to be a cold-blooded killer, but he’d defended too many people in his career who had seemed perfectly nice on the outside but whose heart was stone.
Anyone is capable of murder, he knew, but it was thankfully rare that someone killed for no reason at all. Unless Kristy was hiding some secret life that neither he nor Emma knew anything about, he just couldn’t see what her motive could possibly be.
14
“I don’t like it,” said Detective Joyner when Jake and Emma presented their idea to him about taking Cheri to the cabin. “It puts the two of you in danger.”
&nbs
p; “Only if whoever it is who is after Cheri finds out where we are,” said Emma.
“And I’m supposed to come up with some kind of cover story for why you and Jake and Cheri Jackson just happen to leave town.” Joyner had met the couple at the hospital before visiting hours and they were arguing in the office of the charge nurse while Cheri got a final check-over by the doctor and got ready to leave.
She had reluctantly agreed to leave town but was no happier about the danger to her friends than Joyner, still blaming herself for the death of Officer Rutledge. When the couple insisted, she agreed to go along with the plan only if Joyner approved.
“How many people know about this cabin?” asked Joyner.
“Old friends mostly,” said Jake.
“Kristy Castle?“asked Joyner, looking pointedly at Emma.
“Kristy knows we have a cabin, but she doesn’t know where it is,” answered Emma. She hated that he still considered Kristy a suspect, but she would not do anything that could put Cheri’s life in danger. “She’s never been there.”
“Nobody goes there with us,” agreed Jake. “It’s just a tiny, one room cabin.”
“Two rooms,” Emma chimed in. “Thank God.”
Joyner looked puzzled. “Emma had me add on a bathroom,” Jake explained. “It’s not fancy, but she prefers it to the outhouse.”
“What about cell phone coverage?” asked Joyner. “Can you call for help if you need it?”
“There’s usually a bar or two,” said Emma, referring to the strength of the signal. “But it would take a good half hour for anyone to get there.”
“That’s why we’re going to be well prepared,” said Jake meaningfully. “It’s defensible space. Thick walls, clear of trees and brush to protect from forest fires, motion activated lights on all sides. Anyone who wants to get to the cabin will be visible.”
Joyner nodded. “I still don’t like it but since the Casper PD wasn’t able to keep her safe, I guess I don’t have much choice.”
Emma put her hand on the detective’s sleeve. “It wasn’t your fault,” she said gently. “Ann Rutledge did what anyone would have done in that situation.”
“And whoever killed her better hope I’m in a generous mood when I find him,” said Joyner darkly, “or her.”
Jake left Emma at the hospital while he went home to take care of the animals and throw some clothes in a suitcase. He filled a cooler and with items from the refrigerator and grabbed a bin they kept filled with dry goods, ready for last-minute camping trips.
Grimly, he unlocked his gun safe and carefully drew out his hunting rifle, a 12 gauge shot gun, his Smith & Wesson revolver and Emma’s hand gun. He packed extra rounds of ammunition for each weapon and loaded everything in his truck.
He stopped at his nearest neighbor’s house and arranged for their teenage daughter to take care of the cats and dogs while they were gone. They were used to the couple taking off at a moment’s notice whenever they managed to get a few free days in both their busy schedules so they didn’t ask Jake any questions.
Driving back to the hospital, Jake ran over the cabin’s defenses in his head. The rifle was too powerful for Emma but she could handle the shotgun if she needed to. She had proven herself a good shot with her handgun and he had always been proud of his ability to bring down a buck with one clear kill shot so the animal did not suffer.
Emma and Cheri were waiting for him when he arrived and they only stopped briefly at Cheri’s home to pack a bag for her. Jonas was waiting for them at the door, meowing impatiently because his breakfast was late. Cheri looked at Emma who smiled and asked if she had a carrying case.
Jake, who had been guarding the approach to the house while the ladies were inside, laughed when he saw Emma approach with Cheri’s overnight bag and Cheri follow with a loudly protesting Jonas.
“I’m so sorry,” she apologized as Jake lifted her suitcase into the bed and found a spot for the angry cat beside Cheri in the truck’s rear seat.
“Not a problem,” he assured her. “I’m sure he’ll settle down when we get on the road.”
Jonas did not settle down, but continued to howl at intervals throughout the drive down I-25 toward Douglas. As soon as the truck left the freeway, Jonas seemed to sense the journey was nearly over and let out a wail that surpassed any of his previous efforts.
“I’m really sorry,” shouted Cheri, straining to be heard over the disapproving cat. “Since his first trip to the vet’s office, he never has liked riding in the car.”
Thankfully, Jonas liked the cabin, racing like a wildcat around the small space as soon as he was freed from his prison. The cabin had been built by Jake’s grandfather in 1936 of logs cut from the forest to create the clearing upon which the cabin was built. It had a concrete floor and a kitchenette in one corner of the room. There was a queen sized bed in another corner and a door that led to the small bathroom.
Emma always thanked the ghost of Jake’s father for his ingenious installation of rustic plumbing. He’d put in a cistern to catch and hold rainwater. Pipes ran the water through a filter system and into the little kitchen so there was running water. A five gallon hot water tank under the sink gave them hot water for washing dishes.
When Jake added the bathroom, he’d installed a composting toilet because there was no environmentally sound way to put in a septic system. He added a slightly larger water heater to feed the bathroom sink and a tiny shower. Showers were short at the cabin but they were a welcome luxury.
There was an old stone fireplace along the wall opposite the bed and a picture window opened on a beautiful view beside the front door. When he laid the slab for the cabin’s floor, Jake’s grandfather had added an extra four feet to the front of the house, which he’d covered to make a simple porch. Two chairs sat sociably on the porch waiting for the evening sunset.
“It’s lovely,” said Cheri. “Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
“It’s our pleasure,” said Jake.
“Absolutely,” agreed Emma. “We love to come here and just soak in the peace of this place.”
“It is peaceful,” agreed Cheri. “I can’t imagine anything bad happening here.”
Jake had finished bringing in the supplies and Emma moved to the small kitchen while he set up the cot he’d thrown into the back of the truck. “You girls can have the bed,” he told them.
“Nonsense,” said Cheri. “I’m enough trouble to you already. I’m not going to let you give up your bed. Besides, this cot is just what I need for my back.”
Jake looked closely at her but she seemed legitimately glad to have the cot. “If you say so,” he finally told her, “but if it’s uncomfortable just yell - I mean it. I can’t be comfortable thinking you’re not.”
Cheri promised and Jake went out to gather wood so they could have a fire in the evening. “That’s a good man you have, Emma,” said Cheri.
Emma smiled from the kitchen where she had finished putting away their supplies and was now fixing a light lunch. “He really is,” she agreed. “I don’t believe I ever met your husband.”
Cheri perched on a bar stool across the counter from where Emma worked. “No? Joe would have liked your Jake,” she told her. “He would have loved this cabin. You might not believe it, since you’ve only known me as a bank vice president, but when we were first married we lived in a place very much like this.”
Emma looked at her in surprise. “Really? A cabin or a studio apartment?”
“Neither,” said Cheri. She laughed as her mind travelled back. “We were dirt poor when we got married and I do mean dirt! All Joe had in the world was a plot of ground his mother left him. She died when he was just a boy, you see.”
Cheri sighed. “When he asked my father if he could marry me, my father told him he couldn’t until he could offer me a home. So Joe set to building us a home on that little plot of ground.”
She stared out the little window over the sink behind Emma. “It wasn’t much, just four walls and a
roof, but it was enough to satisfy my father. We got married as soon as the house was livable and I tell you, we never were so happy.”
“What happened to it?” asked Emma.
“Oh we built onto it, a little bit every year, but after a few years and a few babies, we knew it just wasn’t going to be big enough. We sold it to another young couple just getting started and moved to a house in town, but I never forgot that little house.”
“That’s so romantic,” sighed Emma.
“What do you mean she doesn’t exist?” asked Joyner. Arty Thomes had been doing a record search of Kristy Castle, looking for any possible link between her and any of the other individuals who figured in the investigation.
“I can’t find any record of Kristy Castle with that social security number anywhere in the country before 2006.”
Joyner let the information soak in. “So she’s here under an assumed name,” he concluded.
“And a stolen Social. I did some digging and the person who belongs to this Social died about 3 years before Kristy Castle surfaced using the same number.” Thomes put a picture he’d printed of the rightful owner of the number on Joyner’s desk.
“Well, that certainly isn’t her,” observed Joyner. “Unless she had a sex change along with changing her name. So who is Kristy Castle?”
“I might be able to tell you if I had fingerprints,” said Thomes.
“Well, maybe it’s time we did something about that,” said Joyner, waiving Thomes out of his office. He picked up the phone and called the County Attorney’s office.
“Taylor,” answered the Assistant County Attorney.
“Clint, it’s Matt Joyner, I need an arrest warrant.”
“Who and for what?” asked Taylor.
“Kristy Castle,” said Joyner.
“Seriously?” asked the prosecutor. “I just had dinner with her the other night out at Jake and Emma Rand’s house. What did she do?”
Linda Crowder - Jake and Emma 02 - Main Street Murder Page 10
