by Leigh Hearon
“No, but he’s liable to come bursting in here any moment.”
“Great! I need to talk to him.”
“I wouldn’t recommend that right now, Annie. As I said, he’s in one of his moods.”
Annie knew from experience that when Dan’s frustration level had reached its zenith, whoever got in his way would be subject to a raging diatribe on a subject matter that had nothing to do with whatever the person wanted to talk about. All the person would know, when the shouting finally stopped, was that it was all their fault.
“I’ve lived through enough to talk about them,” Annie replied. “I’ll take my chances.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Transferring you now.”
Dan picked up on the first ring.
“Stetson,” he bellowed into the phone.
She was determined not to lose her temper. “Dan, it’s Annie.”
“So! You couldn’t take my advice, per usual, and had to poke your nose into this fiasco with Pete Corbett.”
“Excuse me?”
“I heard all about it from the State Patrol. I swear, a homicide can’t happen in this county without your name plastered on the responding officer’s report. Why don’t you stick to your own business and go ride a horse or something and let us do our job?”
“I was riding a horse, Dan. I was on a nice trail ride when Pete Corbett suddenly appeared, swinging from a tree. I guess we should have checked our schedules first.”
One remark and already Annie recognized the warning signs of her anger taking over. It started with sarcasm. It seldom ended there.
“Well, why in the Sam Hill didn’t you call me first? Why’d you have to get the State Patrol involved?”
Annie took a deep breath. “I did call you, Dan. Twice. On your cell. Both times it went to voice mail.”
There was a brief silence. “You should have left a message.”
“Even if I had, you know I had a legal obligation to notify law enforcement at my first opportunity. Trooper and I climbed down off that mountain as soon as we could to try to reach you. It’s not our fault you didn’t pick up. Where were you, anyway?” She might as well try to put him on the defensive.
“Never mind. It isn’t important. Talking to my soon-to-be-ex-wife, if you must know. What is important is that you understand that you have an ethical obligation to let me know what’s happening in my case. If I don’t pick up, leave a message. Or call Tony. Or Kim. Anyone, so that we don’t get our toes stepped on by an outside agency that has no idea of the significance of what they’re investigating.”
“Really, Dan? You don’t think the State Patrol’s competent enough to investigate a homicide?”
“Who said it was a homicide?”
“I did. And you know it, too.” Her voice was rising, and anger was seeping in.
“You know nothing of the sort. Pete Corbett hung himself because he knew his future was going to be inside a penitentiary for a very long time.”
“Dan, doesn’t it occur to you that this is the third homicide that was supposed to look like a suicide? Eloise Carr OD’d on pills she’d never taken before. And we know Ashley didn’t jump into her noose by herself. Pete was hanging even higher. I didn’t see any scuff marks on a tree showing that he climbed up. I didn’t see any nearby logs to stand on. Besides, why would Pete choose a place to off himself where he knew he’d be fodder for predators in a few hours? Unless he belongs to some religion that advocates that form of burial, it doesn’t make sense!”
“I don’t have time to discuss your harebrained ideas, Annie. I’m trying to figure out the best way to wrap up the loose ends of two cases where the prime suspects conveniently die before they can be brought to justice.”
“Maybe you should hold off a day or two. Maybe you just haven’t found the right killer yet. What do you think of that harebrained idea?” Now she was shouting. It had been ridiculous to think she could hold her temper when she was insulted at every turn.
Dan ended the conversation the way he did in any difficult encounter. He simply hung up. And Annie, in her fury, completely forgot about the reason she’d wanted to talk to the sheriff in the first place.
* * *
She stormed around the stables, rearranging hay bales, cleaning water buckets, doing anything that was physically demanding to keep from imploding. Dan Stetson had often patronized her, and his compliments to her on any topic were few and far between, but he had never, until now, castigated her so thoroughly. He was entirely unreasonable in his criticisms, she knew, but the fact that he could even voice them made her seethe. She understood his frustration—wasn’t everyone on the force, as well as she, chafing under the realization that no clue had emerged yet to pinpoint the killer, or killers, of Eloise Carr, Ashley Lawton, and now Pete Corbett? But you didn’t see Kim or Tony taking it out on other people. And now she knew she just might have a clue that could help. She picked up her phone to call the one person in the Sheriff’s Office she knew was hands down more reasonable than Dan. Not to mention in infinitely better shape.
“I’d be happy to talk to you, Annie,” Kim told her a minute later. “I’d like to come over now. Dan is on the warpath, and it’s dangerous just to roam the halls. But the pile on my desk is telling me I won’t be out of here until probably seven o’clock. Will that work for you?” It would, indeed.
By four o’clock, her stables and tack room were positively glowing. Displaced anger did have its merits, she decided, as she gazed around at the spotless counters, gleaming sinks, and neatly stacked and very clean feed bowls. Every feeder in the stalls had been laboriously removed and scrubbed. Old wall stains had been removed, or removed as much as they ever could be. The dust that had accumulated on Annie’s shelves of horse supplements and medical supplies was gone. True, it would appear again within the week, but today everything looked good. She should take photographs, she thought, just to know that once, everything looked like this. If she really wanted to show off, she could forward them to Jessica, who would immediately post them on her Facebook page. Annie didn’t do Facebook, despite the frequent urging of her horse friends.
“Social media is a disease without a cure,” she’d once told them. Everyone had laughed, but Annie honestly felt that her pronouncement had a ring of truth to it.
She still had two hours before feeding. She could continue her cleaning frenzy in her own farmhouse, or she could take a hot bath. The bath won out.
Marcus called just as she was stepping out of the tub, dripping wet, her skin pink and clean.
“Did I interrupt you?” he said politely. “I know we’ll talk later, but I have a question for you now.”
“This is fine,” she said, trying to dry her hair with a large towel as she talked. For some reason she felt embarrassed to admit to Marcus that she was standing, buck naked, in the middle of her bedroom.
“Great. I know how busy you are but thought I’d ask. Is it possible for you to dig something out of Hilda’s boxes in storage for me?”
She sighed inwardly. “Sure.”
Marcus’s laugh came through the phone.
“I’m not sure I believe that perky reply, but thank you for making the effort.”
She sat down on her bed, reasonably dry by now. “What do you need?”
“I’m looking for letters between Hilda and her property insurance agent. I’m trying to wrap up the claim, and apparently there was some correspondence earlier this year about modifying the fire and earthquake policies.”
“I hope she wasn’t downgrading her coverage.”
“On the contrary—she insisted that she have the ultimate package on both contingencies. It would be just like her to demand the best—with no extra premium, of course.”
Annie agreed but said nothing. “There are about a hundred boxes in storage,” she cautioned him. “Where should I start looking?”
“It should be in a box marked ‘Essential Ranch Papers. ’ The correspondence will be in a manila envelope inside, label
ed ‘Property insurance.’ I asked the movers to keep it and several other boxes of important documents close to the front, in case something like this arose. If you don’t find it immediately, don’t waste hours searching for it. I’ll just put the insurance company on hold and look for it when I’m up for the next board meeting.”
Annie was determined to find the papers first. “No problem, Marcus. I’ve actually got an extra hour and can zip out and try to find it now.”
“Could you, Annie? That would be a tremendous help. You don’t know how much I appreciate your making this extra effort.”
As she backed her truck out of her driveway fifteen minutes later, she thought with immense satisfaction how some people didn’t have any problem recognizing her for the highly competent, ever helpful person that she was.
* * *
She arrived at the storage unit just as the big electronic door was closing for the day. This was not a problem, as Annie had created a password to punch in at the gate to give her access to the storage rooms any time she wanted. One of the units she’d rented for Marcus contained household furniture and other tangible items, while the other was filled with boxes. The second unit was actually the fuller one; the rancid smell of smoke had permeated most of the furnishings inside Hilda’s cavernous home, making them unfit even as donations. Many of the papers Marcus had culled were in similar shape, but because they were affiliated with Hilda’s horse business, he’d had no choice but to bundle them up and save them. The ranch computers hadn’t survived the fire, and Hilda apparently didn’t know about offline storage options or the cloud.
After Annie had rented the two units, she had returned to supervise the move and secure each space with a lock she’d found back home. But she’d never looked inside any of the boxes. It wasn’t her business, and she honestly had no interest in Hilda Colbert’s affairs. She knew that Marcus was doing only what he had to do to settle his wife’s estate, but she felt an irrational twinge of jealousy that Hilda still absorbed his time and thoughts, even from beyond the grave.
She unlocked the unit with the boxes and heaved the sliding aluminum door upward. A wall of neat, white packing boxes greeted her. It was a bit daunting, but Annie was resolved to find the box in record time. Scouring the first row, she saw Marcus’s neat handwriting on the side to identify the contents of each one. To her dismay, several boxes held the same label—ESSENTIAL RANCH PAPERS. But at least they all appeared to be in the same area. She pulled down the first box and began to search through it.
Despite Marcus’s methodical organization, it took Annie a full hour to locate the manila envelope he had described. Naturally, the precious documents were in the bottom box. She cursed the box and storage units in general, put the envelope in her saddlebag purse, and carefully locked up.
When she emerged into the corridor, she saw a customer fiddling with a lock on a unit a few doors down from Marcus’s. The middle-aged woman seemed exasperated and at the end of her patience.
“Can I help?” Annie called out to her.
The woman looked up. “I can’t get this stupid lock to open.” Her voice reflected her irritation. “It’s one of the ones they sell you when you sign up. The owner assured me it was the best there is, and he was selling it to me at a cheaper price than at the hardware store, but I can’t get the damn thing to work. If I ever get it off, I’m going to replace it with one of my own.”
Annie smiled. “I got the same spiel but decided to pass on the offer. It took long enough just to get the papers signed.”
“You too? I swear, I thought we’d never finish the application. You wouldn’t think it would be so difficult, would you?”
Annie took the key from the woman’s hand and inserted it into the lock. Nothing happened. She jiggled it. The lock still wouldn’t open. She pushed the lock firmly forward and jiggled once more. There was a small click, and Annie now was able to turn the top clasp to the open position.
“Thank you!” the woman exclaimed. “I don’t know how you did it, but thank you!”
“Try pressing the key forward all the way first. That seems to be the trick.”
Annie handed the key back to the woman but not before noticing its distinctive markings. They were mirror images of those on the key found on Ashley’s body and the one she had given to Lavender for safekeeping.
Now she had two items of importance to tell the most reasonable deputy in the Sheriff’s Office. And the fittest.
* * *
Dusk had fallen but Annie’s ranch was still bathed in the radiance of a setting sun. Kim pulled up just as Annie was exiting the stables.
“Go on in,” she shouted to Kim. “The door’s open.”
Annie had picked up a bottle of chardonnay on her way back from the storage unit. She’d had a feeling that a beverage made of grapes, rather than grain, was more in keeping with Kim’s dietary program, and was correct in her assumption. Kim was delighted to open the bottle and pour both of them full glasses.
“I love Oregon whites,” Kim said. “How did you know?”
Annie merely smiled. She didn’t, until now.
“How’s Dan doing?”
Kim gave Annie a sideways grin and shook her head in mock despair. “I think he’s worn out and ready for his nap by now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him on such a tirade as he was today. I hear you got the full brunt of it earlier.”
“Did I ever! What a mean, cantankerous boss you have. Frankly, I don’t know how you stand it when he gets into one of these fits. He’s so unreasonable.”
“Actually, he pretty much steers clear of me. The first time he started ranting at me because things weren’t going his way, I read him the riot act and told him if he so much as raised his voice to me again, I’d quit. He seemed to believe me. So now I just shut my door and he never bothers me.”
“Smart move. Unfortunately, I seem to sink to his level.”
“It’s easy to get sucked in, I know. And I’m sorry, Annie. You don’t deserve to be treated that way. If you can, try to remember that Dan really is a good cop and a good guy. He’s just frustrated with not getting to the bottom of the Carr and Lawton deaths.”
“I told him Pete Corbett was a murder victim, too. He heartily denied it.”
“Only because he wants the world at large to think that this is just another suicide—although three suicides in as many weeks is a new record for Suwana County. If the public knew we really had three unsolved homicides on our desks right now, the press as well as the commissioners would be all over us.”
“True. But I just had an epiphany that I think will interest you.”
“Do tell.”
“It’s the key, the odd key that Lavender just coughed up, the twin to the one found on Ashley’s body.”
Kim leaned forward. “You’ve discovered what it goes to?”
“Yup. It opens one of the storage units down the road. The owner of the place sells some kind of special lock to new customers. Claims it’s the best and costs peanuts. I got the hard sell a couple of weeks ago when I leased two units on Marcus’s behalf, but I declined his offer. It was taking forever just to get the paperwork done. If I’d had a little more patience, I would have realized the significance of Ashley’s key back then.”
“Hey, you do now, and that’s faster than any of us. How’d you figure it out?”
“I was there earlier, getting some papers for Marcus, and the woman at a nearby unit was having trouble with the lock, using that same key. Well, not the same key, but one that looked just like it. She said she’d bought it from the proprietor. So Ashley must have leased a storage unit somewhere on the premises.”
“Hot damn! We need to get a search warrant now. This is just the break we’ve needed, Annie. And if Dan throws a hissy fit when he finds out you’re the reason we have it, well, he’s going to get one of my moods, and look out, Sheriff.”
“One more thing, Kim. It may not be significant, but it certainly caught my eye. It’s what I had intended to ta
lk to Dan about when I called.”
“What’s that, Annie? Everything you do seems to turn out golden.”
Annie felt a warm glow spread throughout her body. It took so little to make her feel appreciated. All she needed was a small bone thrown to her every now and then. Someday, Dan might be smart enough to realize it.
“Another serendipitous encounter. I nabbed an old newspaper on my way out of a diner up north last week. I was coming back from the equine clinic in Cape Disconsolate. Jessica was with me, and we’d stopped for a quick bite. Today, I glanced at it and noticed a long list of trustee sales with Ronald Carr Junior’s name on them. He and his wife are listed as the original grantors in six properties now in foreclosure. I added them up, and he owes close to five million on all of them. I never would have guessed he was in such financial trouble.”
Annie pulled out the crumpled newspaper from her bag and handed it to Kim. The deputy quickly perused the listings and nodded.
“I’d say he’s in serious trouble. And you don’t know how significant this information is. Carr’s just filed his mother’s will for probate in Suwana County Superior Court. Not surprisingly, he’s Eloise’s personal representative. Dan sent Tony to the courthouse to find out the extent of the estate. We figured she owned the house in Port Chester and maybe a few blue chip stocks her husband had invested in years ago. You know, nothing for the kids to fight over.”
“Don’t tell me,” Annie said, her eyes on Kim’s.
“I’m going to tell you. Yes, she owns the modest little home in town, but she also owns big property in Montana, Florida, and Vermont. Outright. Her stock and cash holdings alone make her a millionaire. With the properties, she died a millionaire several times over.”
“While Ron is losing his shirt in the real estate market.”
“Uh-huh. And now we’re all kicking ourselves for not taking a closer look at him. He was so sympathetic to Ashley, we assumed he was blameless himself. It’s our own damn fault, although I can see how it happened. From the beginning, every aspect of Eloise Carr’s death pointed to Ashley, and when she died, we figured Pete was the killer. After all, we knew he’d been squatting on your property. But with Pete’s death, and what you’ve just brought to the table, everything’s changed.”
