Shadow Canyon (A Coyote Wells Mystery Book 2)

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Shadow Canyon (A Coyote Wells Mystery Book 2) Page 12

by Vickie McKeehan


  Gemma thought about that and turned to Lando. “Does she make that kind of salary, enough to blow on attorney’s fees?”

  “Hell, I don’t make that kind of money. She even mentioned a few times that she has her house paid off, so there’s no mortgage for her to worry about without a job.”

  “That’s what I thought. Anyway, getting back to what I saw. Mallory was fighting with this guy, and she was still fully dressed while doing it. Sometime after that things must’ve have taken a turn toward violent. I don’t think she lived long after that.”

  Lando got to his feet to help his sister pack up. “The thing is, Mallory isn’t the first female that died on that same stretch of beach. There’s another case that happened years ago on Caulfield’s watch. A girl whose remains were found just beyond the bend where the riptide becomes dangerous during high tide.”

  Gemma’s eyes widened. “Is that the case you wanted me to look at, the one you mentioned last Sunday night?”

  Lando shifted his body weight to look at Gemma. “That’s the one. The girl couldn’t have been any older than fourteen. What breaks my heart is that after all this time, she’s still a Jane Doe. Caulfield never ID’d her. Not sure if it was from laziness or ineptitude. Either way, I can’t find her killer if I don’t even know where she came from or who she is.”

  Gemma’s sigh was laced with sadness. “Jane Doe should get justice, even after all these years. No one deserves that. What happened to her remains?”

  “The county paid for a plot. She had a simple burial with no headstone, just a marker that says the date she was found.”

  “That’s so sad,” Lianne added. “There has to be a way to find out who she is.”

  “Don’t forget about Chloe Pendleton,” Zeb declared, looking around at the canyon walls. “Hikers found her remains out at Spirit Lake, less than two miles from where we are now. She’d been strangled, her hyoid bone snapped. That’s one of my unsolved cases and it doesn’t have anything to do with incompetence or laziness on my part. I ran down every single lead that came my way, only to hit a brick wall at every one of them. It’s been five years now and I still don’t have anything solid. I don’t know why a young store clerk from Reno was found on the Rez. She had no known connection to the area, no relatives here, no one I could locate.” He looked at Gemma. “Maybe you could…you know…come into the office sometime and go over that file.”

  Gemma hugged her knees to her chest, an amused look on her face. “Guys, I hate to remind you, but I’m not exactly a psychic detective, at least not yet. I didn’t even see fog on the beach in my Mallory vision. Who’s to say Mallory didn’t argue with a woman? So far, my visions haven’t exactly instilled confidence.”

  “Hey, I believe in you,” Leia said. “And anyone who doesn’t should be ignored.”

  “Absolutely,” Lianne added. “That’s why it wouldn’t hurt to delve into both case files. You’re on a roll, or is it a streak? You don’t mess with a streak. Am I right?”

  Luke bumped her shoulder. “You are indeed. Not to mention, the five of us believe in Gemma’s ability. That’s all that should matter.”

  “It matters a great deal,” Gemma responded. “But I have a business to run, candy to sell. Some people in town still think of me as ‘that turncoat who left to live in Snob Hill.’ I’m not sure what they’ll think after Louise gets through claiming that I’m a witch. Certain people around here seemed to have accepted Gram’s psychic abilities. But a witch? I doubt they’d see that as a step up. Sometimes I don’t get people at all.”

  “Your grandmother didn’t solve murders,” Lando pointed out. “To some people Marissa simply helped them through life. Add in homicide to that and people are easily spooked.”

  Zeb squinted into the setting sun making its way over Fire Mountain. “I hate to cut this party short, but we’re losing the light. We should probably start heading back before it gets too dark to negotiate the trail, especially for Bandit and Gypsy.”

  “But we didn’t get to go exploring,” Gemma pointed out. “I wanted to check out that cave.”

  “Sorry. But the horses come first,” Zeb said with authority. “If you plan to come back, get an earlier start.”

  Gemma settled into the saddle with regret. But she knew she’d be coming here again at the first opportunity. Hesitating so the others would go first, she held Gypsy back so that she’d be bringing up the rear.

  One glance over her shoulder, she stared for as long as she could at the canyon. An eerie wind whistled through its corridors of hard stone walls. She thought of Aponivi, and decided that he must be thinking of her.

  “I’ll be back,” she muttered. “I’ll come back so you’ll have to show me more, more of the past, more of what I don’t know.”

  “What are you mumbling about?” Lando asked.

  “Nothing. Just seeing the spiritual side of this place and feeling its power for maybe the first time in my life.”

  11

  That night, as they lay in bed, Lando took Gemma’s hand. “What did you see out there today that made you so sad?”

  “The people who came before us had it rough, didn’t they? Did you know about the massacre at Shadow Canyon?”

  Lando kissed her hair and brought her closer. “A sad time for our people. Our own Trail of Tears. We were lucky. At least the government let us hang around our native land and didn’t ship us off to Indian territory.”

  “Oklahoma,” Gemma whispered. “It hurts to think how many people died on the trip there.”

  “Then don’t think about it,” Lando suggested. “Nothing can remedy that hardship or put a pretty spin on it. Best not to dwell on the past. Any past.”

  “You’re a complicated man, you know that? Not two weeks ago it was you dwelling on our past, not the good stuff, but all that negative.”

  “Let’s not talk about that either. Besides, I’m really not that complicated. I like to keep things simple and on a roll. I’m thinking about buying Bandit.”

  “I knew it! I could see the love you had for him in your eyes.”

  “He’s a sweet horse. Did you see how he and I moved together? Not once on the trip did he falter. After what he’s been through, that’s nothing short of amazing.”

  “He and Gypsy got along well. Did you notice that? I’m thinking Gypsy would love to take me back out to Shadow Canyon, especially if she belongs to me.”

  Lando tickled her ribs, making her squirm next to him. “Want me to call Willow or do you want to handle it?”

  “I’ll let her know tomorrow.” Her mouth twisted in questioning fashion. “Lando?”

  “What?”

  “If Billy Gafford isn’t the right guy, then who killed Mallory?”

  “I think between the two of us, we’ll be able to find out the truth.”

  “You mean like Sherlock Holmes and Watson?” She slapped him on the arm. “Don’t you dare call me Nancy Drew. You do that again and two can play. I’ll start calling you one of the Hardy Boys.”

  Lando grimaced. “No self-respecting cop or grown man wants to be known as a Hardy Boy.”

  “Okay, then what?”

  “What’s wrong with keeping it simple? Bonner and Channing.”

  “Better, but what about Bonner and Bonner? I used to be anyway. We make a good team.”

  “We do.”

  “What’s bothering you? You seem distracted.”

  “I don’t know. I keep thinking about motive. Something just doesn’t add up with Louise and Mallory, never has.”

  “I take it you aren’t talking about their bitchy demeanor, are you?”

  “Nope. First thing tomorrow morning I’m going to get a judge to issue a financial warrant, then make a trip to the bank.”

  “You know, I might be able to see more about what happened that night if I had something of Mallory’s to hold in my hand to touch. I’m sure there are lots of things inside her house that would help me do that.”

  Lando rose up on one elbow to mak
e sure he could see into her eyes. “Are you suggesting I let you into her house to poke around?”

  “Well, it would certainly be better than asking Louise to let me in there. We could sneak in tonight and no one would know.”

  “I’d know.”

  “They do that kind of stuff on TV all the time.”

  “That’s TV crap, pure fiction. And they also get caught every single time.”

  “We wouldn’t. I’m sure of it. You’re the chief of police. Who’s going to catch us?”

  “Gemma, I’m not taking you into the victim’s house and that’s final.”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure? Sometimes I don’t understand you at all.”

  “Right backatcha. I’m the top cop in town, not a randy teenager full of raging hormones who’d let you talk me into doing just about anything and everything. That’s crazy talk so just put it out of your head.”

  “You’re saying our randy youth was all me? Selective memory, Mr. Bonner. You used to be bold, not afraid to go wild and...”

  “Wait a minute. I went wild Saturday night and got blasted for it.”

  “Lando, you got high on pills. I’m talking about your natural instinct to go wild along the many stages of the rest of your life. Big difference.”

  “I don’t see what letting you into Mallory’s house has to do with me going wild. I really don’t want to hear any more about it. I have a long day tomorrow and I need to get a full night’s sleep. That’s the end of it.”

  Which is why she waited for him to get into a deep sleep before sneaking out of bed and getting dressed. She signaled to Rufus for absolute quiet as she snuck into the closet to pull on a black pair of leggings and a black hoodie.

  She left Rufus in the bedroom as she tiptoed out into the foyer where she’d left her riding boots. Pulling those on, she grabbed a penlight and a crowbar from the utility room and stuffed them down into a backpack.

  She slipped out the back door to walk the three blocks to Mallory’s little bungalow in the fog. Sometime during the night, a thick mist had moved inland. It swirled around her legs with each step she took, curling over the concrete, making the sidewalk disappear.

  Hoping to conceal this little outing, especially from Lando, she slid into the alleyway and stuck to the shadows.

  Kamena had made it clear that touching an item from a person might divulge more information. That meant all Gemma needed was a hairbrush or maybe a piece of clothing she could hold in her hand to see deeper into Mallory’s Sunday night. What had the woman been up to right before her death? And if it worked out, she’d get major bonus points if she discovered what Mallory had been up to long before that. If she could shed light on Mallory’s deepest, darkest secrets, Lando would surely forgive her for this little covert operation.

  Mallory had always maintained a mysterious persona about everything she did, and Gemma intended to poke and prod until she uncovered what was behind it.

  The houses along Sands Point were all dark, not a single light in any of the windows. Better cover, thought Gemma as she darted across the street---and almost fell on her face when she spotted a police cruiser parked at the curb.

  There was Dale Hooper sitting behind the wheel, keeping an eye on the place like a voyeur. Was it at the behest of Lando or had Dale decided to do this on his own? She supposed it didn’t matter. Either way, Dale was the obstacle to getting in there without getting caught. With the cop at his post, once she got inside, if she managed to do it at all, she’d have to find her way around in the dark with only her flashlight as a guide---no turning on lights of any kind.

  Then it dawned on her. Was there a security system in place? An alarm that would go off and wake the entire neighborhood the minute she pried open a window?

  Realizing she hadn’t thought this through very well, she tried to push away the negative energy, tried to rely on her instincts more. But the main thing that ran through her head was the embarrassment Lando would face if she got caught in the act.

  She’d just have to make double sure she didn’t get busted. With any luck she could locate an unlocked window and slip in without Dale seeing a thing.

  Scurrying around back, she clung to the side of the house and inched her way along the flower bed. At the entrance to the backyard, she struggled past a patch of overgrown hollyhocks, almost five feet in height, that blocked off the back door.

  Interesting, Gemma thought as she stood on the patio trying to determine whether Mallory had installed a monitoring system. Unable to spot any wiring other than an ancient phone line attached to the outside wood, she clung to the back of the house until she found the smallest window, one that had four old-fashioned frosted panes that had to belong to a bathroom.

  She tried pushing up on the frame, but it wouldn’t budge. With the slightest bit of pressure, she used the crowbar to hit one pane of glass dead on in the center, so that it shattered into a spider of eight pieces.

  She sucked in a breath and waited for the sound of an alarm to blast out into the night. But the only sound she heard was the crickets chirping in unison guarding the flowerpots.

  She blew out air, and began to chip away at each crack, trying to make the least amount of noise. After clearing the glass off the frame, she reached in with one arm and unlocked the latch.

  Positioning the window up as far as it would go, she heaved herself over the frame and shimmied through the pitch-black opening, dropping down into the tub on the other side, landing on her hands. In the dark, she had to kick the wall to right herself and stand up. Losing her balance, she reached out to steady herself with the shower curtain, only to have the rod give way and collapse on her head before it banged against the wall and ultimately landed on her foot. All before she ever crawled out of the tub.

  She got out the little flashlight, so she could see how to navigate her way over the rim. One foot over the edge and then another and she was standing in front of the vanity. Surprisingly tidy, the room was small and cramped but spotless.

  If she got lucky, the bathroom was as far as she’d have to go. All she needed was one personal item from the victim and then she’d skedaddle back home, no one the wiser.

  Gemma spotted a small canvas pouch with a tan on brown pattern resting on the toilet tank and snatched it up. Perfect, she thought, as she tossed the makeup bag into her satchel.

  Tempted to explore Mallory’s domain, she had her hand on the bathroom door to go further when she changed her mind. She really didn’t want Dale to catch her looting like a thief, so she backed up, wedged herself through the window once again and dropped, feet first, on the grass outside.

  She heard muttered voices. It was Dale having a conversation with someone.

  Gemma panicked when she realized Dale was out of his patrol car and standing between the houses talking on his cell phone.

  Dale’s presence prompted a dog to start barking in the yard across the alley, which triggered a skittish homeowner next door to turn on her porch light. From that vantage point the spotlight zeroed in on Mallory’s backyard, lighting it up like Christmas morning. It was clear the watchdog and the blazing light prevented her escape from either direction.

  Dale came around the corner of the house to check the grounds, his phone still glued to his ear doing no more than a cursory look around.

  She had to get out of there and fast.

  Ducking down out of sight, she crawled on all fours into the thick patch of hollyhocks to wait until calm returned.

  Sitting there, hugging her knees, she didn’t realize until this minute how dedicated Dale was at his job. He stood not ten feet away like the queen’s guard, unwilling to move from the palace.

  Gemma felt tiny insects landing on her bare flesh and then scuttling up her limbs. It was all she could do not to flail them off or worse…bolt out of there.

  After ten minutes of bug bites she wanted to smack Dale with her backpack. Just go already, she wanted to shout. She had to wait another fifteen minutes for him to finish
his conversation and go back to his cruiser.

  After several minutes went by, impatient at the situation, she slipped out of the flowers and headed for the side of the house. Hugging the wall, she tried to make herself as skinny as possible while letting the shadows hide her. She made her way to the front corner of the house, hiding behind a line of juniper. From the bushes, she kept her eye on Dale, waiting for her opportunity to make a break for it. When Dale bent down to retrieve something from the floorboard of his car, she took off running in the opposite direction.

  Somewhere in the distance she heard another dog set up a din, but by that time she was halfway to the end of Sand Point. She darted down the alleyway, took a right at the corner and ran like hell toward Peralta Circle.

  After letting herself in the back door, she went into the laundry room and got out of her dirty clothes. She tossed them into the washer and used the utility sink to sponge off the sweat and grime from her caper. The water was a cool reprieve from the insect bites. She hunted down a bottle of aloe and slathered the lotion all over her ankles and hands to stop the itching.

  Before heading to bed, she stuffed the backpack behind the dryer, then tiptoed her way down the hall and opened the bedroom door.

  Half expecting Lando to confront her, she was grateful to find him sleeping like the dead. Rufus, however, was wide awake. The pooch lifted his head and acted like he’d been waiting up all this time for her return. Like a disapproving father, woman’s best friend stared at her in disappointment, as though he would forever know what she’d done. The eagle-eyed canine continued giving her the stink eye as she got undressed and slipped under the covers.

  When Rufus kept up his judgmental gaze, she raised her head toward the dog, mouthing the words, “Go. To. Sleep. Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

  12

  During breakfast there was no mention of burglary, theft, or breaking & entering. Although Rufus still acted as if he knew she’d committed illegal trespass and hadn’t forgiven her for it.

 

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