Dyer Consequences

by Maggie Sefton

  Geri Norbert’s family wanted her property. That was clear. And they wanted it cheap, too. Wanting Geri’s ranch back in their ownership, she could understand. But their offer was almost insultingly low. Jennifer’s comments about J. D. Franklin rose to the surface. He always made unbelievably low offers. That was his habit. Maybe the low offer was his idea, not Geri’s family’s.

  An image of a black car parked in the trees surfaced next, and uneasiness began to nibble once again. But what about that car? What was it doing there? Did that car belong to the psycho who tried to kill her? Was there a connection?

  Kelly counted the stitches again. Fifty-two. Almost done. She cast on the last stitches and counted again to make sure. Sixty-six. Meanwhile, the uneasiness kept nibbling. Suddenly, a familiar face appeared in her thoughts, and Kelly dropped her knitting and reached for her phone again.

  After punching in Jayleen’s number, she waited for an answer. Voice mail came on instead. “Jayleen, this is Kelly. Give me a call, will you? I need to talk to you. A car registered to Geri Norbert has been seen up in the canyon parked on the edge of my ranch. In the trees. Call me, please.”

  Jayleen rested a booted leg on her knee as she sipped from one of Kelly’s ceramic mugs. Leaning back in the dining room chair across from Kelly, she frowned. “Lord, Kelly, I don’t know what to make of all this you’re tellin’ me. It makes no sense. Geri’s in prison, or soon will be.”

  “Well, according to Burt, she may get a light sentence. Maybe that’s why her family wants to buy back her land.”

  Jayleen shook her head. “If she gets away with only a few years in a mental health facility after killing those two women, then there is no justice in this world.”

  Kelly agreed silently. “And you’re sure you never saw Geri Norbert with a black Toyota?”

  “Never. The five years I knew her, she only drove that old blue pickup.”

  Kelly stared into her coffee. “Well, maybe she did sell it to someone else. But even so, why would someone park it on the edge of my land? Unless the car belongs to the guy who’s been out to get me.”

  “I tell you, Kelly, I can’t help but think the same thing.”

  “Do you think Geri’s family is behind all this? You know, all the vandalism and attacks against me and the other people who bought the ranch?”

  Jayleen stared at the floor. Carl was sleeping at their feet. “I don’t know, Kelly, maybe they are. It just sounds so crazy.”

  Kelly nodded. It did sound crazy. Maybe she was crazy to even think it. Maybe the car belonged to some local who simply parked it there a few times. Maybe . . .

  A quick knock on the front door brought Carl to his feet with an authoritative “woof!” Steve appeared, and that was all Carl needed to break discipline and race headlong to the door. Steve was here! That meant playtime. Oh, boy, oh, boy!

  “Hey, big fella,” Steve said, rubbing Carl’s head. “No! No jump. Have you folks eaten yet? I brought some pizza.”

  “No, thanks, Steve, I’ve gotta mosey back up into the canyon,” Jayleen said as she rose and headed toward the door. “I can’t wait for springtime and more daylight. I’m sick and tired of this darkness.” She stared out the window.

  Steve gave Kelly a quick kiss before placing the white box on the dining room table. “It’s pepperoni and cheese. I was starving after that last meeting in Old Town, so I ate a couple of pieces already. Down, Carl. No jump.”

  Carl, of course, was paying no heed to Steve’s orders and continued to leap and dance about.

  “Hand me his leash,” Kelly said. “Let’s see if this Alpha Dog thing really works.”

  Steve grabbed the leash and handed it over, then snatched another slice of pizza. Carl saw the pizza and lost it.

  Okaaaay, Kelly thought, let’s give this a try. She immediately switched into On-the-Field Command Voice, suitable for instructing players of any sport. The Voice of Authority.

  “Carl, sit!” she instructed, copying Rosa’s no-nonsense manner. She gave a quick tug on the training collar.

  Carl glanced over his shoulder and started to jump again. This time, Kelly repeated the command, complete with quick jerk and release of his collar. Carl sat. Clearly, he didn’t want to, but he sat.

  “Good dog, Carl!” Kelly exclaimed, delighted in his performance. Rubbing his shiny head, she enthused. “What a good dog. Such a good dog. Yes, you are. Now, stay!” She held up her hand in the signal. Carl looked disappointed.

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Steve said, as he started another slice.

  “Good work, Kelly,” Jayleen said as she opened the door. “If Carl learns to mind his manners, my chili will be safe.”

  “I am Alpha Dog. I am pack leader. I am the one to be obeyed,” Kelly intoned in a deep theatrical voice.

  Steve snickered. “If I see any packs, I’ll be sure to send ’em your way. Take it easy going up into the canyon, Jayleen. One accident in the group is enough.”

  “Oh, I will,” Jayleen said as she paused in the doorway. She gave Steve a devilish smile. “You bring dinner over every night, do you?”

  “Sometimes. Sometimes we go out. But I’m here every night for guard duty.” Steve reached for a soda can and drained it.

  Jayleen leaned up against the doorjamb, her grin spreading. “You sleepin’ on the sofa, are you?”

  Kelly knew where this was heading and decided to play along. “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “That cast could do some serious damage,” Steve said with a wicked grin.

  Jayleen laughed softly. “How much longer have you gotta wear that thing?”

  “Another four weeks.” Kelly deliberately rolled her eyes.

  “Well, I’ve got a hammer in my truck if you get desperate, folks,” she said as she left.

  “Good night, Jayleen,” Kelly called after her.

  Sixteen

  Kelly sipped Eduardo’s coffee and looked through the café windows at the mountains in the distance. The foothills, as the locals called them. The Front Range of the Rockies, doorway to gorgeous scenery. From here, Kelly could see the glazed mountain peaks beyond, glistening white in the sun. The high country. Snowy high country, too. Nearly forty feet accumulated this winter, so far, and the season wasn’t over yet. March was always the snowiest month in Colorado. At least the reservoirs should be full.

  Kelly remembered the cycles of drought and wet from her childhood. She’d heard they’d been going on for centuries. But Kelly also knew these past few years had brought droughts that lasted longer than ever before. Blazing hot temperatures in July, into the triple digits. That, she didn’t remember.

  “You think I should counter Carolyn Becker’s offer?” she asked Jennifer, who sat across the table from her.

  “Yes, I do. Now that we know Geri Norbert’s family is involved in this, I want to give the cops more time to poke around.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “This counteroffer will slow things down, especially since we’re giving them a week to respond. My guess is they’ll think about it for a whole week, then make a counter of their own.”

  “How do you know they won’t accept my offer?”

  “I don’t. But we’ve only gone down ten thousand dollars on the asking price. I sense they want to get this property cheap, so they’ll offer a little bit higher than last time but not much. But the important thing is we’ll give the cops more time to check into these people and see what’s going on.”

  Kelly stared at the pages of legal-sized documents spread on the table. “Sounds like a plan, Jen. Where do I sign?”

  “Hey, Kelly, what are you doing working in here?” Connie asked as she approached the cozy corner table in the café where Kelly sat with laptop and briefcase.

  “I haven’t been able to pull myself away since breakfast,” Kelly said. “You on break from the shop? Have a seat.”

  Connie shook her head. “Nope. Rosa and I are devoting the entire day to the basement. Mimi’s handling the front. She actually
told us she was ‘relieved’ we were cleaning down there. You can tell Mimi wants to get back to normal, too.”

  “All day? Wow, how’s it going so far?”

  “Actually, we’ve gotten all the fibers stacked and sorted and back on the shelves. Clean shelves, too. We scrubbed down the walls, the shelves, everything. We’ve finished with the main storage room. Now we’re working our way back toward the dye tubs and those spooky nooks and crannies.”

  “Boy, I wish I could go down to see the progress,” Kelly said, pointing to her cast. “But stairs are still a challenge. Thank goodness both the shop and the cottage are all on one floor.”

  “Thanks, Julie,” Connie said to the waitress who refilled her coffee mug. “You know, when I had a cast like that, I used to go down the stairs on my butt. I live in a two-story so I had to find a quick way. Try sitting and sliding down the stairs. It’s not elegant, but it works, and it’s fast.”

  Kelly laughed at the picture forming in her mind. “Okay, I’ll give it a try. But I think I’ll wait until you guys clean the stairs first.”

  “That’s a good idea. I’ll let you know when we finish.”

  Glimpsing Mimi hurrying through the café, heading their way, Kelly called out, “Hey, Mimi, what’s up?”

  Mimi rushed to the table. “Kelly, someone just came in,” she said in a soft voice. “She says she’s Tracy’s sister. And she wants to ask some questions about . . . about Tracy and her death.” Mimi’s expression turned pleading. “Could you please talk to her, Kelly? For me? I just don’t think I can do it. She wants to talk to someone who was here when Tracy was found.”

  “Of course I’ll talk to her, Mimi,” Kelly said, reaching out to give her a reassuring pat on the arm. Just like Mimi would usually do for everyone else. “Why don’t you send her in here? It’s cozy and quiet in this corner.”

  The worry lines on Mimi’s face relaxed away. “Thank you, Kelly. Thank you so much.” She turned and sped from the café. Connie followed, giving Kelly a thumbs-up.

  Meanwhile, Kelly closed out of her accounting spreadsheet and cleared the piles of papers she’d spread on the table. Glancing up, she saw a tall, stylishly dressed blonde walking her way. The woman appeared to be in her thirties. Tracy’s older sister, obviously. Since Kelly couldn’t quickly spring to her feet, she waved the woman over. “I’m Kelly Flynn,” she said, offering her hand. “Please have a seat.”

  “Thanks for taking the time,” the woman said as she sat. “I’m Tracy’s older sister, Claire Putnam, and I’ve been out of the country for six months. My job as a researcher takes me into some pretty remote areas abroad. I only learned about Tracy’s death two weeks ago. I didn’t know what to think. . . . I was devastated. I came back as soon as I could, but it took nearly a week to get home to Colorado.” Claire stared at the windows. “And when I did, I couldn’t believe what I heard. My baby sister drowned in a tub of dye? I mean, that’s horrible enough, but to learn that she was murdered? My God! Who would do such a thing? Tracy was a sweetheart, a total innocent, she was . . . she was . . . so trusting. . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  Kelly’s heart squeezed, watching Claire’s raw grief flash across her face. “I understand your feelings, Claire. We couldn’t comprehend it, either. Tracy was such a sweet girl. Her death was totally senseless . . . as well as tragic.”

  Claire peered at Kelly. “The police believe some vandals killed Tracy. Do you think that’s what happened, Kelly?”

  Kelly hesitated, not knowing exactly how to respond. Maybe she should keep her suspicions to herself. “I don’t know, Claire. It doesn’t make sense to me, either. Apparently Tracy was downstairs dyeing fibers at the tub when some guys came into the shop and started trashing the place. Maybe they found her downstairs and panicked. I don’t know.” Kelly stared into her coffee, uncomfortable with the version she’d recounted.

  “Hitting her on the head, I can understand,” Claire said, looking out the window again. “But the police say she was held under the water until she drowned. That’s... that’s horrible! Why would anyone do that?”

  Kelly held back the words that wanted to escape. “Maybe those guys were high on drugs or something. Who knows? Some criminals have no conscience. They’re sociopaths.”

  Claire glanced back to Kelly. “I asked the detective if they had been able to question this man Tracy was dating. And the detective acted surprised, like he didn’t know about him. Tracy only mentioned him once, and unfortunately she didn’t tell me his last name. She called him ‘Jimmy.’ Did she ever talk to anyone here about a boyfriend?”

  Kelly stared back into Claire’s eyes. At last. The mysterious boyfriend had a name. Or part of a name. Finally there was a lead. Her pulse speeded up. “Tracy told one of my friends that she was seeing a guy but didn’t mention his name.”

  “Damn,” Claire swore softly. “I’ve wracked my brain and cannot bring out a last name. Didn’t anyone at the university—her classmates or her friends—ever hear Tracy talk about him?”

  Kelly shook her head. “Apparently not, according to the police. They’ve interviewed her friends twice. She must have kept him a secret for some reason.”

  “But, why, for God’s sake?” Claire’s hand jerked out in obvious frustration. “If we could find that guy, maybe we could learn something.”

  “Did Tracy say where she met him?”

  Claire closed her eyes. “Uhhhh, yeah . . . I think she said she met him at her office.”

  Whoa. Kelly wasn’t expecting that. “You mean the real estate office?”

  Claire nodded. “I believe so. That’s the only place she worked.”

  Kelly’s heart skipped a beat. If Tracy met this Jimmy at the real estate office, surely someone would have seen them together. Was he a client? Another agent? “Think, Claire. Did Tracy say anything else about this guy?” Kelly coaxed.

  Claire closed her eyes again, clearly trying to remember. “Just little things. How crazy she was about him . . . and he was crazy about her, I guess. . . . He was real passionate . . . but moody. I remember she said he would drift away, kind of . . . and they would argue, but they’d always make up. . . . You know, stuff like that.”

  Kelly mulled over Claire’s description. Passionate but moody. That could be a volatile combination.

  “It’s so discouraging,” Claire said sadly. “My baby sister has been killed for no reason. My parents are heartbroken. And I want to do something to help, but . . . but it seems like there’s nothing I can do.”

  Kelly instinctively reached out and placed her hand on Claire’s. “You’ve done more than you know, Claire. You’ve provided information on this boyfriend. Did you tell the police where Tracy met Jimmy?”

  “Yes, I did. They said they’d check it out.” She gazed out into the café. “I need to know that I’ve done something to help the police catch my sister’s killer. Otherwise I won’t be able to sleep at night. I have to return to my parents’ tomorrow, and I want to be able to tell them something that will bring them comfort.”

  Kelly held Claire’s gaze for a moment. “Why don’t you tell them that the police promised us they won’t rest until they’ve found Tracy’s killer.”

  Kelly swung her crutches forward, hurrying to return to the café table. Her cell phone was ringing away. Damn crutches, she fumed as she tried to move faster than usual. Two weeks down. Four more weeks to go. Arrrrgh!

  Reaching the table at last, she snatched her phone and flipped it open. Burt was still there.

  “Hey, Kelly, I’m glad I caught you. Got some more updates you’ll like to hear.”

  “Thanks, Burt. Did you get my message about Tracy’s sister? Have the detectives found out anything about this Jimmy? Have they interviewed the people in the real estate office again? Did anyone see Tracy with this guy?”

  “Kelly, Kelly... slow down,” Burt said. “According to Dan, they’re still interviewing the agents. Some agents don’t spend much time in the office, so it’s taking a while to reach
them all.”

  “Anything so far?”

  “Not yet, Kelly. Some agents barely remember Tracy, let alone whom she talked to.”

  “Damn, Burt,” Kelly swore softly. “I was hoping for a breakthrough.”

  “Give them time, Kelly. The police will find a lead somewhere. Now, back to your case. They did confirm that Carolyn Becker is Geri Norbert’s sister. Her name was listed in the family records.”

  “I figured as much. So, now it’s confirmed. Geri Norbert’s family wants to buy my ranch. Did they learn anything from Geri Norbert about the car? You said they were going to interview her.”

  “Yeah, they did. Geri told them she sold the car to some guy in Colorado Springs last year and was surprised to learn it was still registered in her name. She said she drove down from Fort Connor to the Springs and signed over the title to him for five hundred dollars. ”

  Kelly pondered what Burt said. She had personal experience with Geri Norbert’s devious nature. Geri was a skilled liar. Kelly could attest to that. “Do you believe her, Burt?”

  “I wasn’t there to hear her, Kelly. Dan says she appeared to be telling the truth, but you can never tell with some people.”

  “Geri’s a master liar, Burt. She comes across as genuine and totally honest and sincere. But then that other side of hers surfaces, and look out. Would there be any record of the sale other than the title? Did she advertise in the newspaper or something?”

  “Nope, she said she put a sign with her phone number in the front window, then parked the car alongside the road. Risky way to find buyers, but people do it. Apparently the guy called her, and she went down to meet him. That’s it. No record.”

  “No record, how convenient,” Kelly mused out loud. “Boy, we’re getting nowhere.”

  “Not necessarily, Kelly. Most investigative work is slow going. There are lots of little pieces of information that don’t seem to mean anything at first, but finally you find enough to start piecing together the puzzle.”

  Kelly mulled over that comment, as pieces of information started forming into questions in her mind. “You know, Burt, Jayleen told me the other night she’d never seen Geri drive that black Toyota, so Geri must have kept it down in Colorado Springs until she sold it. Why, then, would that car, sold to some no-name buyer, suddenly show up in Bellevue Canyon, parked on the edge of my ranch? The same ranch that used to belong to Geri Norbert. That’s a helluva coincidence, don’tcha think?”