Linda Crowder - Jake and Emma 01 - Too Cute to Kill

by Linda Crowder

  “Kristy said you needed to see me?” she asked the young man. “Can I ask your name?”

  The young man ran a hand through his hair, unusually short for his age. “Nick Carver,” he said. Emma fought not to let her surprise show. “I tried to talk to Mrs. G.” Emma knew this is what youth called Alison Gueistweisal, the probation officer. “She wasn’t there so I went to Mr. Rand’s office but they said he was in court.”

  The teen looked up, his eyes full of desperation. “I didn’t know where else to turn so I came here.”

  Emma got up and walked to the office door. Opening it, she signaled to Kristy that she was safe and asked her to reschedule her next client. “Please let them know I will not be able to attend the team meeting today, too.” Kristy nodded and picked up the phone.

  Closing the door, Emma took the visitor chair next to Nick’s. “Tell me what’s upset you,” she said. “I want to help.”

  Nick closed his eyes and Emma could almost feel the wave of relief that flowed from him. He took a deep breath and started talking. “I need help,” he said. He started shaking and Emma put her hand on his arm, encouraging him to go on.

  “Somebody’s trying to kill me,” he said. “They killed my dad and they tried to kill me. I ran away. I thought I’d lost them but they must have found me.”

  “Nick, just breathe,” said Emma soothingly. “You’re safe here. I know that your father was killed.”

  Nick nodded. “I know, I saw Mr. Rand at the Fort.”

  “You were at the Fort that night?” asked Emma.

  “I was following my dad. He was acting all mysterious, said he had someone he had to meet but he said I couldn’t go with him so I followed him.”

  “Let’s back up just for a moment,” said Emma. “The last I heard, you were at college in Sheridan. Why don’t we start there?”

  Nick stopped shaking and his voice grew stronger as he talked. “I came back from class and my dad was sitting in my dorm room. My roommate let him in. Dad told me we had to go to my grandparents’ ranch before the lawyer sold it.”

  “Why did he want to go to the ranch?” asked Emma, thinking about the treasure.

  Nick rolled his eyes. “My grandfather used to tell my dad that his father, my dad’s grandfather, had buried a treasure somewhere on the ranch.”

  “Where would your great grandfather have gotten a treasure and why would he have buried it on the ranch?” asked Emma.

  “There wasn’t any treasure,” said Nick with disgust. “My grandfather told me once he just made up that story.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “He said he started out telling the story hoping it would give my father a reason to stay home. You know, run the ranch and keep it in the family. That was real important to my grandfather.”

  “And he thought it took the promise of buried treasure to interest your dad?”

  Nick nodded. “He told my dad that his grandpa hadn’t trusted banks after the Depression so he took all his money, converted it to silver and buried it. He told my dad that grandpa had died before telling him where the treasure was and that he, my grandfather, had spent his life searching for it.”

  Emma shook her head sadly. “Obviously your father must have believed the story.”

  “He did. I told him it wasn’t true. I told him what Grandfather told me about it.”

  “He didn’t believe you?”

  “No. He said my grandfather was always saying that just to throw him off, but the treasure was real. He just needed time to find it. He’d tried hunting for it after Grandfather died but my grandmother caught him digging up the place and told him he was a damned fool.”

  “So now that your grandmother was dead and the place was to be sold, he wanted you to help him make one last search,” finished Emma.

  Nick nodded in agreement. “Only you didn’t go, is what I heard. Then you dropped out of school and disappeared.”

  Nick looked sheepish. “I told him he was full of it and he left. Then I got to thinking about it and I decided what if he was right? What if there really was a treasure?”

  “So you left school to go find your father at the ranch?” asked Emma.

  “Yes.” Nick’s eyes became distant and he smiled. “Crazy old fool was digging up the floor in the hen house when I got there. I told him, Dad why don’t we just get a metal detector? You’d have thought someone would have thought of that before me but I guess not because he looked at me like I was offering him the Holy Grail.”

  Nick went on to tell how they had driven to town and bought a couple of metal detectors. At Nick’s suggestion, they started at one end of the property and worked methodically. They found old horseshoes, rusty nails, tin cans and other assorted metallic trash but no treasure.

  In October, they heard that the ranch had sold to an out of town buyer. They moved the search closer to the buildings, trying to cover as much ground as possible before the new owners showed up.

  “But the new owners never did show up,” Nick told Emma. “We kept watch for them and every time we saw a car we didn’t recognize, we dove for cover hoping they wouldn’t catch us there, but nobody ever came.”

  Nick fell silent. Emma gave him a few minutes to collect his thoughts but when he remained quiet, she prompted him to finish his story. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead on his hands.

  “I used to go to town every few days,” Nick finally continued. “They had shut off the electricity so there wasn’t any water. My dad didn’t seem to mind the grunge but I couldn’t go more than a few days without a shower so I’d go into town and hit the truck stop showers.”

  Emma nodded. The ranch would have used well water but the pump ran on electricity. They had found lanterns for light, but generally didn’t use them because they didn’t want people to see lights in what was supposed to be a vacant home. It had just started being cold enough to light a fire in the wood stove for heat but without electricity, they would have had no water.

  “Anyway, I came home from taking a shower. As I turned off the main road, I saw a strange car in the yard so I pulled off behind some trees and watched. I figured it was finally the new owners come and we’d have to leave.”

  He stopped again. “Was it the new owner?” asked Emma.

  Nick shrugged. “All I could see was that it was a woman and she was arguing with my dad. I assumed she was telling him to get off her property, but she was the one who left. Drove past where I was parked without even seeing me.”

  “What did your father say about it?”

  “He said she was the realtor who handled the sale of the ranch.” Emma again tried to hide her surprise, wondering what Sherry Thorne would have been doing arguing with Nate Carver at his parents’ ranch.

  “What were they arguing about?” was all Emma could get out without her voice betraying her.

  “He wouldn’t tell me, but he said we’d have to leave soon so we’d better get to searching while we still had a chance to find the treasure.”

  “And did you ever find any treasure?” asked Emma.

  Nick shook his head. “Never did. We were going to look all that night – even light the lanterns and search in the dark but a big storm came up. Couldn’t see two feet in front of you so we gave up and hunkered down by the fire all night. Next morning we packed up and left.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Crashed in town with some of my dad’s friends,” Nick snorted. “That was a joke. We stayed there a couple of weeks. Finally I told him I was going to talk to my PO about going back to school.”

  “Was he supportive of you doing that?”

  “He told me I could do whatever I wanted. I told him he ought to get out of Casper; come back to Sheridan with me and start fresh.”

  “Did he want to do that?” asked Emma.

  Nick shook his head again, this time sadly. “He said he’d be coming into some money soon and once he did, then he could think about making a fresh start somewhere.” Nick’s eyes wa
tered. “Only he wanted us to go somewhere warm.”

  “Was that when he started acting mysterious?” asked Emma.

  “I asked him what money he was talking about, since there wasn’t any treasure and we both knew Grandmother wouldn’t have left the ranch to either of us.”

  “He wouldn’t tell you?” guessed Emma.

  “No. He said it was better for me not to know. So one night he told me he had somebody to see, I decided to follow him.”

  Emma waited but Nick didn’t offer anything further. “Did you see what happened at the bridge?” she asked softly.

  “I saw him meet up with someone. I saw them go onto the bridge. I saw my dad slump against the railing and I saw the other person walk away. I waited for my Dad to go back to his car but he just stood there, leaning on the railing.”

  Nick’s voice trailed off. He hid his face in his hands. Emma put one hand on his back and the other on his arm. There would be time later for more talk. For now, she simply comforted the young man who had watched in the cold and the darkness until the museum staff arrived and the terrible realization sunk in that his father was dead.

  12

  Emma decided not to ask Nick anymore questions. She thought he could use some time to regain his composure after reliving the night he had watched unknowingly his father’s murder.

  She put in a call to Jake’s office and left a voice mail on his cell phone, asking him to meet her at her office as soon as he got out of court. Kristy made a pot of coffee and the three sat in Emma’s office, waiting for Jake to arrive.

  Kristy and Nick talked about the football playoffs while Emma sat deep in thought about what the youth had told her. Sherry Thorne had handled the sale of the ranch. The sale had closed in October, why would she go out there in November?

  There had only been one major storm before Thanksgiving. Sherry must have argued with Nate the day she died. Where did she go after she drove off, too upset to even notice Nick parked beside the road? She’d left the ranch in the afternoon, what happened between that moment and the fateful moment Sherry Thorne had stepped into her killer’s car?

  Jake arrived as they were finishing off the last of the coffee. He was shocked to find his former client sitting in his wife’s office. Kristy insisted on staying late, posting herself in the reception area. “We need a look-out,” she whispered to Emma “in case those people come after Nick.”

  “What are you going to do if some killer comes walking in the reception room?” Emma whispered back. Kristy beckoned Emma over to her desk. She unlocked and opened the top drawer to reveal a pretty but deadly 9mm handgun. “When did you get that?” Emma asked, keeping her voice low so the men wouldn’t hear them.

  “When you started working with those women from Heath House,” explained Kristy. “I thought someday some abusive husband or boyfriend might show up so I went out and got a concealed carry permit.”

  “You don’t leave it there overnight do you?” asked Emma, picturing the surprise of a janitor if Kristy forgot to lock the drawer.

  “Nah, I carry it in my purse. I only have it in the drawer for quick access while I’m here.” Emma smiled and shook her head. Trust Kristy to be looking out for their safety. She locked the door to the reception area and returned to her office, leaving a watchful Kristy on duty.

  Nick had filled Jake in on his story by the time she returned. They were both looking grave as she resumed her seat behind the desk. “Did you tell Jake about someone trying to kill you, Nick?”

  Jake looked concerned. “He did, though it may not have been a deliberate attempt. When you’re scared, sometimes an accident seems sinister.”

  “It wasn’t an accident,” insisted Nick. “That car deliberately swerved at me in the parking lot. I had to jump onto somebody’s hood and roll across it to get away.”

  “Oh my,” said Emma. “Did you see who it was?”

  “No,” said Nick, dejectedly. “The car got out of there after that.”

  “Did you see the driver?” asked Jake.

  “I didn’t even see the car until it almost hit me,” answered Nick. “I’ve been walking around in a daze since Dad died.”

  “When did this happen?” asked Emma.

  “This morning. That’s why I came here.” He looked at Jake. “It scared me. What if whoever killed Dad is trying to kill me?”

  “Did you see the man on the bridge that night?” asked Jake.

  Nick shook his head. “It was dark. There’s a light over by the Fort but it doesn’t light the bridge very well. I could make out two people. He was taller than my Dad, I could see that.”

  “You said the man walked off and left your dad on the bridge?” Nick nodded. “Did you see where he went?”

  “He went back toward the museum,” Nick said after thinking about it. “I didn’t watch him for long, I was more interested in watching my dad.”

  Jake looked at Emma. “Do you remember anyone coming in from the Fort area, how long did you say it was Nick, between when the man left and when the museum staff went over to your dad?”

  Nick thought it had been about half an hour but he hadn’t had a watch. “Long enough I was getting really cold out there. I was just getting ready to go find out what Dad was doing when I saw the guys from the museum head over.”

  Emma thought back to that night. There had been people in and out of both the front and back doors all evening. At one point, she’d left the desk to go into the storeroom.

  A gift shop customer needed a t-shirt in a size not on display so she’d gone to get it. She didn’t remember any one person passing through the lobby during the last half hour.

  “He wouldn’t have had to come through the museum,” she reminded her husband. “He could have left the Fort area and gone around the building to the parking lot.”

  Jake nodded, remembering the ornamental fence that was in keeping with the Fort’s rustic feel. It would be easy for a tall man to simply step over the fence if he didn’t want to be seen. For that matter, it would have been just as easy for him to enter by stepping over the fence, as both Nick and his father had done.

  “So what do we do?” asked Nick.

  “First we go home,” answered Jake. “You need a place to stay and we have a perfectly good guest room.” He looked at Emma who nodded.

  Nick relaxed. “I thought you were going to tell me I had to go to the police.”

  “No,” said Jake. “I’m going to call the detective in charge of the investigation and ask that he come out to the house to speak with you.”

  Nick looked ready to argue but Jake was firm. “You haven’t done anything wrong, except trespassing on your grandparents’ property after the sale was final. Unless the new owners file a complaint that really isn’t an issue.” Nick looked slightly mollified.

  “You have to tell them what you know about your father’s murder,” said Emma gently. “It may somehow help them find out who did that to him. You owe your father that much.”

  Nick held Emma’s gaze for a minute then looked down. “I wish I had realized what was happening,” he said. “I would have helped, I would have at least yelled or something. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten away.”

  “I know,” said Emma, her voice brimming with sympathy. “All you can do now is tell the police what you know and hope it helps.”

  As she locked the door to the counseling office, Emma raised her eyebrows questioningly at Kristy. Her assistant smiled and patted her purse. They all walked out to the parking lot together. Nick, who had walked to the office, rode with Jake. Emma and Kristy were parked nearby and Emma waved at Kristy’s cheerful toot of her horn as she left the lot.

  Jake had remembered the plan and stopped for Mexican food on the way home. Emma had stopped at the mailboxes that sat just off the highway before heading up the mountain. She had been home long enough to turn up the fire in the pellet stove and feed the demanding indoor cats.

  Emma was just coming in from the barn after feeding the dogs and comp
leting the nightly barn cat count when Jake’s truck turned off the county road and started up the drive. It was cold but she waited at the door for them and the three trooped into the house together.

  Jake disappeared into his office while Emma and Nick transferred the food to plates and set the table. When Jake returned, he informed them that he’d caught the detective just heading out of the office. “I told him we had lots of food so he’s heading right over.”

  Emma got out another plate and set a fourth place at the table. She shooed the cats into the sunroom, which doubled as a “kitty jail” whenever they had company, and turned on the room heater for them. She shut the door on a loud protest from Peachy and joined the men at the table.

  Detective Matt Joyner had been on the Casper Police force since he got out of the Marines in 1985. He worked his way up from patrol and was now the department’s senior investigative officer. There weren’t many murders in Casper, for which he was grateful.

  He hadn’t liked Nate Carver, having busted him a couple of times when he was working narcotics. Still, he didn’t like the idea of anyone committing murder so close to a museum full of kids and families.

  He hadn’t had many breaks in this case. There had been two sets of footprints leading from the Fort area to the bridge and one set leading away.

  They’d followed Nate’s footprints back through the snow, around the museum building to where his car was parked in a turnout across from the museum’s staff parking lot. The car had been duly torn apart but nothing of any interest had been found.

  The other footprints, which they assumed were the killer’s, entered the bridge from the Fort area. At that point, they became impossible to distinguish from all the other footprints of people who had come out to decorate the tree.

  Following the presumed killer’s footprints leading away from the bridge was equally frustrating. They skirted the crowds and led around the building but they ended at the staff parking lot. Since the walkway from the staff lot to the museum and from the museum to the public lot had been plowed, there was no way of knowing in which lot the killer had parked.