Spirit Lake

by Vickie McKeehan

  “Sure. Is the Camaro there, in the barn?”

  Van smiled. “Afraid not, it was totaled in the accident. That’s why it’s so great we still have the bus. Maybe we can get it running and take turns driving it to Yosemite.”

  The weathered barn stood in the tall grass and rolling hills, leaning from the weight of many a winter storm and the scorched heat of summer. The wood had taken a beating, losing its red stain, dulled now to an ashen gray.

  While Lando and Van buried their heads together going over the rusted-out engine of the VW bus, Gemma and Nova took a walk around the property.

  With Rufus sniffing his way through patches of pokeweed and nightshade, the two women ambled over the hilly terrain, plucking wildflowers and Indian paintbrush as they went.

  “How is it you aren’t freaking out like most brides?” Nova asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess because I’ve been here before.” Gemma exhaled a long groan and went into a detailed description of what she and Lando had planned. “Who am I kidding? I’m starting to get a little wired. There’s so much to do even though we planned this thing as a low-key affair with only family and close friends in attendance. By the way, that means you and Van are on the list. I handwrote all the invitations myself. All I have to do is mail them. Or skip that altogether and hand them out. Although I don’t want to get tacky here.”

  Nova let out a laugh. “And here I thought you were so put together. So tell me, how can an outdoor service at sunset in your very own garden be tacky?”

  “I don’t want it to feel like a cookout or something since the reception will be on the terrace.”

  “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  “To tell you the truth, I was even nervous about coming to Paloma’s house today. And not because of you or anything.”

  “It’s Van, isn’t it?”

  “He’s hard to get to know. I’m sure there’s a reason for it.”

  “You know how it was growing up without a dad, right? Well, Van was just freaking angry about it all the time. He used that excuse to drink and smoke weed.” Nova pointed to a large grove of trees. “Back there, he even tried growing weed and selling it. That lasted until I got pregnant with Allie.”

  “You’re kidding?”

  “I’m not. Once I found out about Allie, I laid down the law, so to speak. I told him he had to shut it down. Completely. No bringing anything like that into the house. I threatened to leave him if he didn’t follow through.”

  “Wow. And I guess he listened to you.”

  Nova stood near a patch of barren, burned ground. “It was either that or me tell Paloma about his growing enterprise. He opted to get rid of all of it. I came out here to make sure he did. That’s when he started settling down and got a real job with the county, working as an electrician.”

  “I didn’t know any of that.”

  “Now he only drinks to excess when he’s upset, like the night at the bar when he confronted you after your show. He’d talked himself into believing you were after Paloma’s money. We had quite the argument about it.”

  “How did you know it wasn’t true, that I wasn’t after Paloma’s money?”

  She tilted her head to study Gemma. “Call it a hunch. My mother knew your mother. They went to school together. She told me what a piece of work Genevieve was back in the day. I figured you either turned out just like her or had purposely decided to be the opposite. My own recon from the chocolate shop told me you were nothing like her.”

  “You sent people in to find that out?”

  “I did. I’ve lived here a long time. I have a group of loyal friends who were willing to go undercover.”

  “I’m glad I passed the test.”

  Chuckling, she elbowed Gemma in the ribs. “Me too. I hate admitting I’m wrong about a person. Are the rumors correct? Are you really psychic?”

  Gemma grinned, absently fingering the pendant at her neck. “Want me to tell you something about Nova Lee Carney? I’m mostly good with the past. Let’s see. Your first serious boyfriend ran off with a dental hygienist from Klamath. You almost moved down to L.A. after high school but changed your mind after going down there to check it out and getting mugged in a mall parking lot. I bet that was scary. You thought about moving to Portland but then you met Van and decided to settle down here.”

  Nova’s mouth dropped open. “How did you do that? Did Van tell you that stuff?”

  “Nope. Van and I have had minimal conversations, remember?”

  “That’s amazing. You really are psychic.”

  “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.” Gemma looked over at Rufus twenty feet away, nosing his way along the ground. “Get out of the goat weed! What are you doing over there? Oh, for goodness sakes.”

  She stormed over to pull him out of the weed patch. But the dog stuck his nose deeper into the tall, dewy grass and refused to budge.

  That’s when Gemma saw the rib cage. The outline stuck out in the dirt. She gave one hard yank on the Lab’s collar to get him to move and then turned back to Nova. “Run and get Lando for me. Please. Now! Tell him to stop messing around with that old hunk of junk and get over here. There’s a dead body in the field.”

  10

  Deputies from the county sheriff’s office swarmed the pastureland, tromping through grass and weeds to get to the remains, a torso that had been partially buried. Jeff Tuttle, the medical examiner, showed up looking disheveled and out of sorts.

  Lando took him aside. “What do you think?”

  “What’s left is too small in stature to be from a guy, unless it’s a kid or teen. Right now, I’ll go out on a limb here and say it’s a young adult female, between twelve and twenty. Any missing persons around here that fit that age group?”

  “None. Gotta be from out of town. I’ll put out a multi-state bulletin to that effect. We’ve looked around for the skull but haven’t found it yet.”

  “You probably won’t. The animals got to it a long time ago and carried it off. I’d say she’s been out here for under a year, though, that’s why the rib cage is mostly intact. There wasn’t a remnant of clothing found near the bones. You know what that means, she was left here without anything on, including ID.”

  Lando nodded out of courtesy but wasn’t sure he bought that scenario. He knew the clothing could’ve been pulled away from the body, piece by piece, through animal activity, a premise that didn’t completely explain the full circumstances.

  Right now, he needed to get the crime scene under control and pressed Gemma to take the dog and everyone else back to Paloma’s. “I’ll get Tuttle to drop me off at home later. I’ve already spoken to Van to find out the last time he was here.”

  “You don’t think Van had anything to do with this, do you?”

  “No. But I needed him to give me a timeframe. He says he hasn’t been out here to check up on things since Thanksgiving of last year. That jibes with when Tuttle thinks the body was dumped.”

  Gemma frowned. “I’m confused. The body was dumped during the same timeframe Van came out to check on the property? It sounds like you do consider him a suspect.”

  “I have to cover all the bases.”

  “I’ll tell you what I think. You have a serial killer on our hands going all the way back to Jane Doe. That leaves Van out of the picture because none of us were even born yet when Jane Doe got left on that beach thirty years ago.”

  “This one might not be related to the others.”

  “Really? How many is that now between here and Crescent City and north to the Oregon border?”

  “Including this one? Five that we know about.”

  “That’s right. There’s Jane Doe, Cheri Taylor, an incomplete set of bones found north of here, and Chloe Pendleton. And now this one. Better start thinking outside the box, Lando. This guy’s a local. He’ll probably read about this and go a little bonkers knowing his hiding place has been discovered again.”

  She started to head toward where Nova stood waiting
with Van, but then stopped. “Something else to think about. Why would Van purposely bring you out here to see that old VW bus if he’d disposed of a body, which was practically in plain sight.”

  Lando combed his fingers through his short crop of hair. Pacing, he stopped and then began again. “I’m not accusing Van of anything.”

  “Not yet. But you always refuse to listen to a theory, especially when it comes from me.”

  “That’s not true.” But instead of arguing, he slapped the keys to the pickup into her palm. “What more do you want from me right now, Gemma? Go home. We’ll talk about this later. I have no reason to think Van was responsible for this. But I go where the evidence takes me. You should know that by now.”

  She did know it. His statement said it all. It was a big reason they were always at odds. She felt caught in the middle. On one hand, she wanted to show support for a brother who was just now beginning to trust her. On the other, she owed Lando her loyalty.

  Van had brooded on the trip back to town and Gemma knew why. He’d taken offense at Lando questioning him.

  She didn’t blame Lando, though. He’d only been doing his job. The questions had to be asked. It was reasonable to determine what the owner of a piece of property had been up to when a body had been dumped there in such a disturbing manner.

  She’d assured everyone, including Paloma, that Van had nothing to worry about. In reality, it was more complicated and troubling. Why? Gemma could see doubt in Lando’s eyes. She could feel his distrust.

  It meant she had to do something to find the real killer and take the pressure off Van, maybe even show Lando the right direction. But how? Where should she start? They already had a suspicion that Arlo was their killer. Maybe she could just nose around without butting heads with Lando.

  With emotions revving up about the wedding plans, the last thing they needed between them was more tension. If she could do her own investigation on the side with the least amount of interference from him, so much the better. That way, if she found something noteworthy, she could take it to him for follow up. If she turned up nothing, he wouldn’t have to know she’d been snooping on her own.

  While she waited for him to get back, she took the box of photographs Paloma and Van had given her and got comfortable on the sofa in the living room. Picking her way through the snapshots, she used the coffee table to lay out a chronology of sorts. She got a glimpse into Michael’s childhood. From school pictures to Little League to other sporting events like basketball and football, her father had obviously been a gifted athlete who never passed up a challenge.

  Since he’d grown up in town, many photos were tagged with a long list of friends’ names written on the back. There were group photos taken at parties, meetings, and some from his time working at the casino, where he stood next to a blackjack table or a roulette wheel, always with pretty girls standing off to the side.

  Something occurred to her as she stared at the order of pictures. She thought back to those home movies. Who had been holding the camera? Since Michael and Katie were part of the photographs, there had to be someone acting as photographer.

  It was almost ten o’clock when she heard Lando’s cruiser pull up outside. She met him at the door with her arms out. “Hey, how’d it go? I’m sorry about snapping at you earlier.”

  “After you left, I realized you were stuck in the middle. Your relationship with Van is still in the new phase and you don’t want to jeopardize it.”

  “True, but you have a job to do. I understand that. You had to ask Van the tough questions about the property and where he was. I’m on your side here, Lando. Don’t ever think I’m not.”

  He followed her back into the living room. “If it’s any consolation, I think you’re onto something about the serial offender. I got more information out of the Crescent City PD tonight, talked to the detective working on the Cheri Taylor case. Turns out she went missing during a time when Arlo Stokely worked there as part of a crew for Montalvo Construction. I checked Arlo’s work records myself. And get this, the bones they found near the border were from a young female, probably in her teens. That’s four teenage girls tied to within thirty miles in either direction of where we’re standing. That’s not a coincidence.”

  “And if you consider that Chloe Pendleton is part of this, at twenty, she’s the oldest victim out of the five.”

  “I know that. I brought Zeb in on what I know, so he’s up to speed on the situation. We should know by Tuesday if those remains belong to Cheri or if they belong to someone else.”

  Gemma dropped into a chair as a thought occurred to her. Maybe she didn’t have to go behind Lando’s back after all. “In the meantime, I say we figure out what Arlo was like in his teen years. Is he someone who developed into a serial killer and no one noticed? Does he have a history of attacking people like he did Daryl Friday night? Did he ever have a serious girlfriend? Was he ever close to getting married? Did he get dumped by someone and it became a trigger? Did it provide him with a hatred of women?”

  “Not women,” Lando corrected, following her logic, “but young girls. Has he been fixated on young girls all this time, right under our noses and his obsession flew under the radar?”

  “Listen to us. Here it is a perfectly good Sunday night and we’re talking about serial murder.”

  Rubbing his forehead, he took a seat next to her. “Because it’s all around us. It’s what we do, each in our own way.”

  “I was ready to go behind your back and poke around on my own.”

  He let out an audible sigh, frustration in his tone. “When will we understand each other better? Be on the same page about things like this? You don’t have to go behind my back every time we disagree on a case. I value your opinion. I have to do this by the book if I hope to prosecute someone for these crimes down the road. But it doesn’t mean you can’t use your gift and bring me clues I can run down. You’ve done it before.”

  “Really? But you were so upset with me earlier.”

  “Out at the barn you were touchy when it had to do with Van. Prickly about me questioning him. Don’t deny it.”

  “I’m not.”

  “I just don’t want friction between us. Asking tough questions is part of who I am.”

  “Let me ask you something. And be honest. Are you getting nervous about the wedding?”

  “Nervous? No. Anxious might be a better word. I have a lot going on in my head.”

  “Like potential mayoral candidates that might want you gone. I don’t trust Sam Wells any more than I do Arlo. There’s something about that guy’s lies that’s just plain underhanded. It’s like he’s deceiving us for personal gain.”

  “I’m tired of the whole prospect already of crooked mayors. First, we find out Montalvo was behind a string of murders. Next, we learn two upstanding citizens were behind one of the biggest armored heists in the state’s history. Then we find out Fleet was cheating on his wife. Now there’s a serial killer out there who’s been active since his teen years. Maybe I’m not cut out for this job anyway.”

  “You’re having doubts? That’s not like you. It’s just the craziness of the wedding.”

  “And the fact you found the third stone. It’s given you insight you clearly want. But I’m worried this…gift…might take you to some really dark places. Go online and look up psychics and tell me you won’t be bothered by what you find out. Some say they’re haunted for years by the dark things they see. I don’t want that kind of life for you.”

  She gave him a slow smile. “Lando Bonner is worried I’ll turn to the dark side.”

  “You’re making fun of me, but I’m serious.”

  She picked up his hand and held it to her cheek. “We need to get away from all this for a couple of days. We need some downtime…for each other.”

  “Are you getting cold feet?”

  “No. I like that anxious description, though. That’s why I think we should get away. We haven’t even had time to go riding. We haven’t seen Gyps
y and Bandit in weeks.”

  “I’m not sure I can go off on vacation in the middle of two upcoming bail hearings. The Kirby Doss kid and Arlo are coming up this week.”

  “Then what about after. Surely you can spare two days off.”

  “Where would we go?”

  “Anywhere. We still have weeks yet before we fly out to Hawaii on our honeymoon. You did talk to the travel agent, right?”

  “Yep. We’re all set for Maui, flying out of L.A.” He propped his feet on the coffee table, leaned his head back on the cushion. “What about taking a couple of days at the cabin up at Spirit Lake?”

  “The one that belongs to your family? That’s perfect. Let’s go there. I need this, Lando. I need to get away before I start thinking the worst of my fellow man.”

  “Yeah, I hear ya.”

  That night, she fell asleep curled in his arms. But body parts haunted her dreams. Ghoulish nightmares trekked through her mind, causing her to toss and turn. Maybe she’d already slid into the dark side and just didn’t realize it yet.

  11

  By morning, the news that a partial body had been discovered spread through town faster than the traffic light could change on Main Street. With it, an edgy feeling crept in that could only be quelled with a chocolate fix.

  When Gemma arrived at the shop a little after eight, she was surprised to find a line of customers waiting, eager to scoop up whatever she had on hand. Even the standoffish Billy Gafford bought a box of milk chocolate cremes to go and waited around for her to brew a pot of coffee. She decided to officially open early when Birdie Sanger banged on the door with Enid in tow, asking if she had any dark chocolate raspberry tarts.

  By the time Lianne arrived at nine, Gemma knew something weird was happening. Ansel bought out half the white chocolate truffles she’d made the day before, and Willow Longhorn showed up to buy what was left for her Monday morning young riders’ club.

  “I give them out as treats as incentive to try harder,” Willow explained. “The kids will pretty much stay in line if I offer chocolate as a reward.”